Moms and Day's Without Mishaps

It's 41 degrees outside in Arlington. There was snow today, but I missed it. Was working my first day at Chunk E. Cheeses.
Truthfully, it's a nice place to work. There isn't much I miss, except the snow. Being Texas it turned into water as soon as it hit the ground. Chunk E. Cheeses always has this glow about it. There's all these kids that come in there and eat, and then they get prizes and then they leave. It's a kind of stationary carnival.
I'm sure you remember going there when you were a kid. Couldn't leave the rides alone, dropping tokens in this game or that. The prizes for tickets were the best part, there being so many to choose from.
Well, I was there to learn about the salad bar, and got an education in pizza dough making in the process. Salad bar is easy. They do have a particular order in which the vegetables go, but I didn't learn all that, too much. We have to make an effort, so that every guest leaves happy. And calling them guests and all, sort of makes them feel like they are entering your home. "Come in, take a seat, get off your feet."
My mom forgot to ask me how my first day at work went. She probably is tired, this being a grey day. My mom and I have lots of things in common: one of them being a penchant for Grey's Anatomy and Ugly Betty. Which is nice of course. But some things we don't have in common, like asking annoying questions about who I'm talking to on the phone. I'm sure she cares, and it's all for my interest. But sometimes I just get frustrated with her asking personal questions. And then sometimes there's the question she forgets. Like how my first day at work went.
Mom, it went well.

Life in HTML

I'm learning to make HTML documents. It's been pretty easy so far. Tag this and use an argument in that.
That's what they're called, arguments. Kind of like math where everywhere you see problems. Probably why I'm an English major.
Either way, now I'm learning to make something called cascading style sheets. These sheets are a basic style that you can apply to all your webpages. They can specify font, font color, background color, size of the font, and have lots of other uses. I could have a style sheet for life. To have just one style: Me. And to apply that to my life. The organization of my life is probably better than the organization of my scattered room in that I'm starting to know what I like. I like to write. I like to knitt. I'm getting rid of my debt, and working at Chunk E. Cheeses.
I did spend some money today on my a couple of balls of yarn and a strap for this brown purse I made. My mom dragged me to the craft stores and I couldn't help myself. That's 6.69$ away from paying my first debt. However, yesterday I finished 15 articles bringing me to 37.50$, minus whatever paypal takes away in the transaction. The woman I've been working for wants an invoice. Why does she need an invoice? What is an invoice?
Invoices are, in reality, bills. Talia, who I'm working for, said the buyer of my work has started getting iffy about the payment. I suppose she wants me to send the bill to the buyer. Well, I'll see what I can do about the invoice. Better learn about these invoices if I'm going to be a freelance writer, now rather than later.

Brevity...

Well, I went to training and it was as I expected. It was very basic. Here's the kitchen, there's where you clock in. Come in and we'll explain things to you. I did learn that one of the employee's of the K-Mart which Chunk E. Cheeses used to be killed himself in the back-back-back break room. So that's pretty creepy, and I swear I don't want to be alone there. But otherwise, things are pretty good, I'm working making sure we have all the ingredients of the salad bar. I'm working where I want to be, in the kitchens, and I'm pretty happy. And that's it for today's post.

The Dentist and Clairvoyance

There's a dentist appointment right around the corner. I generally don't like going to the dentist. They poke you and prod you with their shiny-tipped metal impliments. Then they tell you there's a cavity and to get rid of it there will be needles involved. Shudder. My dentist is one of the better ones, Dr. Franklyn Alexander. What it must take to be a dentist. To want to go into people's sacred places by day and dream that one is the tooth fairy at night. I bet it's the easy money. So many people have cavities nowadays with all the Krispy Kreme donuts (I know, I had two this morning). But this dentist, Mr. Alexander really cares for his patients. He talks to them, while scraping away, when they are in the chair and kindly reads them their dental rights. "You shall try to talk to me while my tools are in your mouth. These will come out as garbled messages which I will disregard. Your right to remain silent is overlooked."
What do I lose out on this? I have to pay the copay for the dentist. That means less money for me, baby. Oh, and those Krispy Kreme donuts... I paid for those, too. Almost 7$ a box, with little heart-shaped doughnuts and football-shaped donuts, but I digress. Just couldn't resist a warm box of doughnuts.
On the other hand, there was some incoming revenue this week, as well. Ten silly little articles all about spiritualist stuff, mediums and clairvoyance. 2$ every 500 words, coming to 20$. And there's that training session tomorrow. The place I'm going to work is "kid grimmy," probably having boogers and snot strewn over every inch of those pipes they climb through. But from now on I can probably quote "experience with children" on my resume. If I'm just working in the kitchens, which I kind of hope I am, then I'll have more food-handling experience. Either way, it's more revenue coming in that I desperately need to pay that old 14,777.99 dollars worth of debt. I haven't even gotten enough to pay the smallest one, 186.59$. So this training session has to go right and I will have a chance to get out of the house and meet people. I can't wait to wear one of those dinky little name tags. Thank god we don't have to wear bling. Or whatever Joanna from Office Space had to wear. Fling. Or...bling. Flair, it was flair.

I Live With My Mom

Well, here's the short of it. I live with my mom. And lately I've been concerned. What if I live out my whole life with my mom. Not going out. Not making friends. Not having any lovers. Not getting married or having kids. I mean, I live with my mom. How degrading do you have to get. A perfectly capable 22-year-old. What am I to do?
Getting stressed out about this cannot be a good step to take. I've already gotten a job, albiet it's at a place where a kid can be a kid. Not exactly grown-up, mature material. It's a job. And maybe there will be people there who don't have kids of their own unlike at my previous place of employment. Everyone asked "Do you have kids?" I felt like laughing at them...at my young age, of course not. But young is in the eye of the beholder. Maybe I should have some kids. What's wrong with me!?
I think that's a question everyone asks at some point in their life. Whether it's wondering why we aren't as athletic as the other third-graders or not as brainy as that Valadictorian, it's something we just can't help expressing to the world. Why am I different, why am I "special."
Often we see ourselves stuck between extremes. Well, I'm not like my dad... but I'm not like my mom, either. So what do we do in situations like this.
Well, I'd like to take time to tell a story about when my family took a family vacation out to Padre Island. We had just started driving on the strip that leads to the island when it starts pouring buckets of rain, buckets. And we just turned on the windshield wipers and kept driving. Then came the hail. And we just kept on driving. It turned out to be a beautiful night on the beach, with threads of lightening coming down from the sky in the distance. We never would have made it if we didn't keep driving. And that's how life is. You just gotta keep driving.

The Tapestry of Life

Our lives are many strings all working in harmony with each other to make the tapestry of human existence. Each individual thread is needed to compliment and make harmony with the rest of the threads of human existence. My thread, I like to imagine, is a silvery multi-colored braided soft cotton thread, marking it's way brightly through the tapestry. Other threads fit snugly next to it, my mom's dark purple strong, yet soft, leather piece, my sister's bright yellow and orange. These individual pieces all have to work together to make one beautiful tapestry, and even if they get a little tangled at times, or sometimes one or another gets cut, there is always a way that the tapestry of humankind makes it through.
I feel that my particular life weaving has been a little small lately. Mostly my mom and I have been spending time with each other and our two doves and the cat. I wake up in the morning and each morning moves like molasses. Comfortable and smooth, I eat my breakfast either of oatmeal or pancakes, then I take a little time to work on a knitting project left lying on the couch. Grey small purse, almost finished. Later I warm my computer up and the old machine starts buzzing and humming like a beehive full of happy bees. A large glass of water placed on my desk to drink during cracks in the writing process along with some crumpled tissues and books from the latest project I'm working on. I apply myself to the projects and check up on my www.43things.com account. Then there's a pause for casual lunch with my mom as she has a break from work. Then writing till evening, with TV shows strewn between.
Thursday is my favorite night: Ugly Betty and Grey's Anatomy. There's also the new Armed and Famous on CBS, on Tuesday evening. They get in the most unimaginable escapades and almost make me want to be a cop. I appreciate how Trish Stratus really is there for the people and shows the people how to make-up and that little things, which are material, aren't as important as the people themselves. That is impressive to me, because there aren't many cops out there who are just there for the people. They have macho ideas of what it is to be a cop, and it is a tough job. I believe that along with gun training and self-defense, cops should also go through sensitivity training where they learn how too be sensitive to the people around them and be considerate of the people they are aiming to serve. Tiny little thing which can be of no value to the people in authority to give out may mean the world to those under them. Being a police officer should not just be to serve and protect, but also to care.
Their strings shouldn't be wrapped around other strings, strangling them, but set to guide other strings into their proper places. There should be psycological counseling in jails for those who need it, programs put in place to rehabilitate those who are lost in the dregs of society, those who can't make it on their own. That's obviously why they are there. They don't have a social consciousness that the middle and upper class have had installed in them, they don't have the opportunities. We should make a point to give them the opportunities that we have been so graciously given. Take our power and use it for good. I want to fight to expand my small life and work to give other these opportunities. Make the tapestry of life that much brighter.

Highway or Byway?

Every road has a smaller road leading from it. I like to call these roads "paths." And in life you can either take the highway, or you can take the paths. It may not get you where you want to go, but the scenery sure is nice. You discover lots of interesting objects, meet lots of interesting people, and go lots of interesting places you would never have found taking the highway.
Chunk E. Cheese isn't really a highway. It's not really going anywhere. But on my road out of debt a full-time job is really the way to go. My paths are my writing sessions. They aren't exactly a money maker, but more of a trip down different routes. Right now, I just finished a little path about antiques. The next trip I'm going to take requires me to take a walk on the wild side. The clairvoyant side, to be exact. They range from these topics: "horoscope compatibility," "what is clairvoyant," "what is tarot," "what are tarot," "card readings," "what are love spells," "history of psychics," "What is a medium," "What is a Spiritual Healer," "What is clairsentience, and "What is trance mediumship." Fascinating.
Now I don't believe in clarivoyance or spiritual readings of the future, my future depends on whether I can write articles on this topic. I just contracted 20$ for an afternoon's worth of work and want to keep writing with the same contact.
These contacts are helpful as references and to quote your writing experiences. To keep contacts always be as honest as possible and keep your notes polite. Tell them exactly how much you can write and how much you expect to be paid up front to keep you from messy battles further along the line.
As the highway of life goes, I like to take the little paths. They may lead me from my main goal, but would the trip really be worth it without taking the time to smell the roses? Let's taste, touch, see, hear, and smell all that is around us and appreciate it's worth.

I'm Here and That's All That Matters

I'm here and that's all that matters. Today I accomplished at least 20$ worth of words. After requesting pay I discovered that I'm getting paid 2$ an article which is 0.01-0.005 cents a word. I feel a little gyped. But my writing style is improving, I believe. Becoming ever more clear and concise.
Another project I'm working on; I'm now learning HTML and XHTML, the computer languages of the internet. It's pretty basic (pun intended). They use tags to tell you what a certain object does. I've learned about the body and heading tags already.
You may have heard of HTML, but not XHTML. They are almost the same programming language. XHTML uses Extensible Markup Language, or XML which makes it possible for users to create their own tags. There's a standard for HTML, sort of. The World Wide Web Consortium (W3C) is supposedly responsible for creating this standard. There are several versions of this standard we use today. More on what I've learned later in the week.
I'm also reading the MLA (Modern Language Association) Handbook for Writer's of Reseach Papers. So far all I've learned is that research papers suck. Not really, it's amazing what people can compile from primary and secondary sources, what ideas they can create. So far, not any new information, however.
So I'll leave you with a quote from Bob Edwards, "A little learning is a dangerous thing, but a lot of ignorance is just as bad."

War and Writing Desks

Antiques what happens when you forget something in a closet and you pull it out years later. That's what I'm supposed to write about. My writing get snappy and sentences short like the finish on an old writing desk as creativity waxes thin.
The Isreali president today was brought under charges of rape and abusing his powers for sexual favors. Makes me glad to our troops are over there spreading thier ideas and basic cultural thoughts.
What happens...I write a beautiful, I-could-cry-for post and it gets deleted. All about the Iraqi war and American culture being influenced by Iraqi culture and vice versa. There was even something about the war really being about oil. Basically what it came down to was the fact that I believe in this war, whatever the reason. Really, it's a terrible loss and if we could just bow our heads for a moment of silence. ... ... Thank you for your cooperation.

Search Engine Optimization Articles

There isn't much to tell. The articles are sold! Now I just have to wait til they put money in my paypal account. Now this is copywriting, so I don't have my name on the byline and there isn't recognition shown on the paper. However, I can now boast copywriting and Search Engine Optimization experience, both of which are fabulous in the freelance market. Tons of people all over the internet are looking for people to enhance their pages with keyword rich articles.
They (it is a blah sort of "they," an organization which I don't even know the name of) would like me to build some more SEO articles for them. One for a site, antique-trader.co.uk and another site antique-warehouse.co.uk. Now these probably won't be knock-your-socks-off articles, seeing as they're about antiques. Rather fun trying to creatively sculpt certian words into makeshift articles, however taxing on the brain they might be.
Mostly what it takes to write SEO articles is an intuitive mind as well as a willingness to give up creative word choice. These people just want the word, and nothing but the word. This helps search engines to locate their site and put it higher up the search engine's hit list. There usually has to be a willingness to research the subject at hand, seeing as most people don't know about Dragon Naturally Speaking 7, for instance. With writing SEO's there also has to be a willingness to repeat yourself. Over and over. They want the word in there. So combining the research plus the word(s), you use creativity to make an article which has content enough to satisfy your editors, which reaches the readership, and which above all, makes sense.
And what doesn't make much sense to me is why my trainers postponed my Chunk E. Cheese training until next week. How does that look on them? Not very good, my friends, not very good. Until tomorrow, yours truly.

Green-Tipped Guilt and the Tao

My fear whistles to me from the dark. "Why didn't you work today?" the mother in my head asks me. Of course, this isn't my real mother. It's the guilt that rises up in me, when I've set out towards a goal but don't busy myself with keeping onward towards accomplishing it, even for one day. I feel the day was spent enjoying the bright light, soaking up vitamin D from the sun who appeared to grace us with it's cheery countenance. So onward we struggle through the "sea of arrows" even though green-tipped guilt has had a bout with my soul.
Speaking of my mother, she has decided that I need to pay a sort of rent of about 50$ a month, just to help with electricity. I've been mulling that over in my head and it seems an appropriate payment. I've lived with my mom 20 odd years and the favor isn't too much to ask. However, it's one more obstacle in the way of my debts being paid.
One acrument of the day has been reading "The Notebook of All Things English." This will help me with my writing skills, by tying together loose ends in my writing, helping with structuring articles, and having more strong and bold thesis statements. By just reading through the notebook, I feel myself become more critical of my writing style, which today is loose and free as a bluebird on the wing. If I'm to become a better writer, I can't be afraid of making points and knitting together paragraphs to come to one concluding purpose statement.
By working on this one skill of mine, I become more valuable to companies seeking my services, and guilt is erased from my mind. While there were some losses to compound today, tomorrow an training session is scheduled and I will be starting on a new venture. To let myself move through the natural flow of the universe is my plan. To be the "uncarved block," mentioned in The Tao of Pooh. To not let stumbling blocks such as guilt frustrate me. Tomorrow will be as full as I let the day be.

Time Waits for No Man

Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton. Two of the persons seeking an exploratory committee for presidential election. Both are democrats, both minorities which have never been president before. Why don't we have Condolezza Rice run, we could take down two birds with one stone and she would be a Republican. No-one forming exploritory committees to be my president, and with stores setting out roses and candy and stuffed animals galore for impending Valentine's Day my worst fears are confirmed. I will probably be single for the holiday. What does my budget say about this...all my valentines will be home-made.
What we do have is more bills. Just recently, I received a notice from Central Texas Medical Center saying I owe them 411.29$. This is a new one to me. The letter could be from when I lost it in San Marcos, or when I lost it here, in Arlington. Either way, I'm losing it...money, that is.
I also invested in a pair of black pants for Chunky's costing 14.00$ and pitched in 1$ for the Heart Association of America. I'm a softie, I know. Then there was that purchase of 13.00$; buying a white fluffy yarn, some serious brown thick-ply yarn and two rolls of light grey soft acrylic, which I've already started into a purse. So that's 28$ I'm out. But seriously, I've been dying to knitt something ever since I ran out of enough yarn to really follow a pattern.
Monday changes all this. With starting work, I'll have plenty not only to keep me occupied, but something with which to make money, not just spend it.
What of those articles I wrote? My fears as a beginning writer may be confirmed. Am I not as good a writer as I thought I was? They haven't written me back, and like a child who almost drowns when they try to swim the first time, I've been a little pool-shy lately. Well, time waits for no man and debts call and mock me sitting there in a manila folder on my desk. Perhaps I shall go and dip my toes in again, tomorrow.

A Little Blatant Self-Promotion

This week is Australian Week, so as a tribute, I have prepared some little-known facts about Australia. Ready? Ok, here goes. In Australia you will be fined for not voting. Think about what that would do here in America...little lost old ladies at the polling booths. I can just hear them screeching "I can't figure out how to work this damn machine!"
Ok, another little known fact about Australia...there are only two mammals that lay eggs, both of them originate in Australia. That'd be the enchida and the platypus, I believe. And they must keep their eggs warm by laying on them. Most birds do this to their eggs.
Third little known fact about Australia: This contenient is responsible for 70% of the world's wool supply. So if you're allergic, you know who to blame. It's those sheepherding Aussies. These little-known facts are thanks to Emma S.
I've been sheepherding myself, well wordsmithing, I like to call it. Writing keyword articles. Took me about an hour and a half to complete one article and there were about three of them. I finished them and hope...sweet hope...that they reach the ears of the company and they will publish them. Even though they're just keyword articles.
The first was on cancer blood tests, and I learned that there is a blood test to cancer. What I want to know is why we all aren't using this test? There must be some sort of unconclusive works in the scientific community against this type of testing. Personally, I would be glad if they included in my routine medical exam.
The second was on Dragon Naturally Speaking 7, a program that writes what you say. Didn't even know that such a program existed. How amazing that you don't have to be able to type to write an essay or a novel, even.
The third was on wedding dress alterations. There's so much that goes into it. Hemming, sleeves, bustle, pressing and steaming. And all that costs money. I promised myself I'd buy a simple but elegant one. Hey, every girl wants that pretty white gown.
Does this get me where I want to go... possibly. It's up to the editor to decide if my articles are good enough for his copywriting company. Next time I think I'll try harder, as my articles weren't chock-full of yummy adjectives, mostly they were nouns and verbs, trying to get the job done. So lovely Friday's come and passed, it's the weekend, and I know ya'll will be partying, but don't forget to read my blog, updated daily.

Look for me in the Salad Bar

What an interesting two hours I've just spent watching Ugly Betty, followed by Grey's Anatomy. On Betty, the sister's seemed to get in quite a spat. And Daniel's brother Alex is revealed as the mystery character who went through (who knows how many) operations to turn him into a member of the opposite sex. Grey's Anatomy showed signs of turning tragic when George's father is revealed to not going to survive his extensive cancer surgery. Remember kids, it's only drama.
And how much drama has happened to me in the past week. None, kiddos. Sides the usual bickering with my mom, no romantic cuddling, no babies popping out, pretty zero on the drama scale. On the financial scale, however, I start work Monday afternoon. Don't even know how much the life-sucker pays. It's the Cheese's, Chunk E. Cheese's, to be exact. Place where joy and merriment is bestowed on children.
Besides that, my icy writing sites also have some produce in store. There's a e-mail waiting for me tomorrow with the keywords "cancer blood test," "dragon naturally speaking," and "7 wedding dress alterations." The first and third I get, but the second is beyond me. Tomorrow holds promise, as I go for my third visit with Dr. Merrill Littleberry. Therapist, extrordinare.

Our Locus of Focus

Stuck, that's where I was today. Stuck like three fingers in a two-year-old's nostril. Even more than that, stuck like the booger those fingers were trying to reach. It's frustrating, that booger. Something was being produced today, but I couldn't see it, because my focus was on "stuck." Curt Rosengren, of The Occupational Adventure says "What you focus on grows. Redirect your focus to where you want to go as if you already are there." It's true. Have you ever just woken up and start looking at the hairs that grow on your arms? They become a forest. And any teenager knows that one pimple can ruin an evening of fun, simply because the offending mark is in focus. So if we "zoom out," or re-focus ourselves to see the big picture, everything seems a teensy bit brighter.
Zooming out, what I did accomplish today was to get an interview. Mr. Cheeses. I'll be an employee before you know it, checks will be zipping out from my mailbox, and I'll have that thousand dollars sitting in my account. Another accomplishment is discovering another site that offers freelance work, www.getafreelancer.com . This site not only offers work for writers, but also graphic designers, and computer programmers. I've already had one response from one mala007, who needs some articles written, lickity-split. This may function better for me than www.online-writing-jobs.com, because the turn-around rate there is pretty slow. On getafreelancer, you have a certian amount of time to bid before the project is taken off the board. The site shows how many people have bid on a project, so boosting confidence if you are a beginning freelancer. Mala007 sent me the details of the project.
By refocusing on my big picture, that of paying my bills, and not focusing on the stuckness, I stood up to my inability to move and read a speech to unhappiness. As Yolanda Nava shares about her mother in It's All in the Frijoles, "Mama believed perfection was not out of our reach if only we would aim for it, taking one small step each day towards our inherent goodness. 'Remember mijita, God is in the details. God is in the pots and pans. In every small thing that we do or say.'"

Grey Blonde to Brunette

There's not a lot to be said for the day. It was quiet, filled with tea and left-over pizza. Cold was rattling at the doorstep begging to be let in, along with that cat. Our "outdoor cat" my mom calls it, because we don't let it in. Kili, our amalgamation of black and white "indoor cat" is jealous, batting at the window and hissing, and then, nonplussed, looks at us as if she'll take us on as well if we dare to let that other cat saunter into her territory.
As for me, on the other hand, seem to have my low after the wonderous happenings of yesterday. Interview tomorrow at 2 at Chunk E. Cheese's, that's what the lady on the other end of the line said. On the internet front, only non-paying writing jobs have written me back. (I decided to apply simply for the experience.) So the sound of silence, the lull before the rush.
Some sort of excitement has to take place. And so it does. I decide to dye my hair. A brown color, of all things. Now it's really nothing like they do it in commercials with the hair all curled up in a bun and smooth music, thirty seconds and then we're all "luscious-looking hair color!" This is a little more messy than that. I think my mom almost had a heart attack helping me, not to mention the fumes. And me giving directions... "I think this side doesn't have enough stuff on it." Well, you get the picture. Now I can officially call myself a brunette.

A Dream Deferred

Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. The day to celebrate freedom and having a dream. I hold, as scawny and soft as a newborn kitten, a dream of being without money lenders sending me letters every so often, like "I'm just sending you this letter for the heck of it." Yep, a new letter, old debt, same story, next verse. Nevertheless, when I get a phone call back from the manager at Chunk E. Cheese and am encouraged. Do I want to work there? A place exuding children's boogers and grime from every corner? Red, flashy, probably going the way of McDonald's fast food chain. It's proximity and the job's experience of working with children seem it's only redemable qualities. I'm going to apply at the YMCA. Same deal, but no food involved.
In internet land, more encouragement comes in the way of a letter adressed to me, asking me to send a sample book review for Latino University, a magazine aimed at Latino college students. I'm excited about that more than anything. My first writing job, something to put into a portfolio. And I'll be writing about books, which means I can go all "literary critic" on paper. I hope they accept my review, which was a pasting together of an old essay I wrote on One Hundred Years of Solitude, by Gabriel Garcia Marquez.
All in all, I have a dream. It could be a dream of nations coming together, like Condolezza Rice on her visit with Palestinian and Isreali leaders, or it could be a dream of races coming together like Martin Luther King, Jr. Let's help one another with our dreams and then they won't be deferred like Lanston Hughes famous poem, "A Dream Deferred."

Gaza Strip and Life Tips

Now I've e-mailed about a dozen companies saying I'll write for them. Well, about 6 or 7. They aren't about to go sending me e-mails back until Monday, this being a Sunday and freezing temperatures outside and all. The first one is for a Latino Magazine, writing articles, maybe on Literature and other lifestyle pieces. Another is for writing general articles and maybe an e-book? Now I'm not sure exactly. The third, writing "life tips," something I've found myself enjoying and relishing. I really hope they write me back.
In other news, Condolezza Rice has visited Palestine to fight off tensions in the middle east and, I'm sure, to show America that politians are dedicated to their diplomacy efforts as well as their war tactics. Abbas, however, said as much as just having her here to listen isn't going to do them any good. We hear all these news bytes about problems in the "Gaza Strip." Well, what's this Gaza Strip and what's so important about it? It's a little strip of land, bordered on the south by Egypt, on the West, by the Mediterranian Sea. Other angles are covered by Isreal. Isreal occupied the Gaza Strip until 2005, and finally the almost 99% Muslim Palestinian population was free. Sort of. There's still economic, cultural, and religious tension, and Isreal still controls the airways and sea ports. It's like the petri dish of all things strifeful in the middle east. That said, Conolezza Rice may have had her hands full, listening to the culture clashes between Fatah and Hamas. Which is another topic for another time.
Thankful today that, regardless of the bad weather, I have a book of poetry and a way to make some moola. Send away! Emails of learning...I'll write all your articles for you...and more than.

Sherry

Sherry talked to me on the phone.
"It's the time of year when we start cutting back," she says. That means they probably won't call me. Well, nobody said it was going to be easy. It's cold and people want to stay indoors wrapped up with their blankets and sweaters before a nice crackling fire, not have interviews with some starving ex-student who's desperate for work.
I know that proximity is important because of transportation. So that leaves Kroger, Chunk E. Cheese, The Dollar Store, Walmart, H&R Block (if they are still hiring), Subway, and any other little store that will give me an application. Oh yeah, and I could probably walk to the YMCA, weather forgiving. It's too late now today for things to be done. Now it's time to cozy down against the freezing rain and wait for warmer weather.
I've also applied to several online writing jobs today. Mostly article writing. Fast, easy stuff that I could knock down in an afternoon. I've gotten one e-mail back so far, and who knows how many have gotten lost in the junk mail and thrown out. So losing those probably isn't a sad thing at all, considering they aren't the type of work I want to do anyway. I'm more into poetry and short stories...the finer, more delicate side of writing. This promotes loyalties within people and higher ideals. So, base work aside, the day was spent well, poring over volumes of work that could be done.

The Rain

The rain pours down. Can't run or hide today. When my mom comes home she goes straight outside, realizing that the waters are rising steadily. When I go outside, the brownish lake that has pooled on our front porch consists of water inches deep. My shoes are saturated with water and makes the sound of squishing grapes as I flop from the front yard to the back. My mom decidedes to hit out a couple boards from the fence, so aiding the flow of water. I hold a blue and white umbrella. The rain still comes into our house, an invading force, nature that still reckons with man. The night becomes cold.
The rain on our house almost brings me to what I could be doing instead of piddling around on the computer. Digging a ditch in back of our house. Something for the water to flow down into. Something so that every time it rains we don't have to pull out old beach towels to lay down to soak up the earth pee. I can just imagine myself digging lustily into the soil, steam rising from the depths of the ground and then catching malaria like so many diggers of that famous ditch, the Panama Canal.
So that's the news on the homefront. The Shakespeare I read keeps me on my toes and the frigid boxes of the internet writing site where I look for work still beg for more experience or education than I am qualified. There's one site that's not going to give me money for my pains but promises exposure at least, and that is www.PoetsInk.com. This is like www.PoetryCorner.com, a site which hosts a couple of my poems, the beginning poet's hope-bringer, like Paul Revere riding against time and the hordes of English critics. Nothing lost, something gained, perhaps.

What the Day Brings

We have a new reveal today. More burden is heaped upon my shoulders as my mom says to me, as usual, "You've got something in the mail today," and gestures over to the dresser where lying waiting for me is a paper tiger that threatens to consume my every hope. There are consequences to our actions. The Outpost Apartments has finally sent me a bill 843.34$ which I am expected to pay. This brings my total of expenditures to a total of 14,365.70$ about 600 more dollars than I had taken account of.
Truthfully, I've been doing more than I feel is expected of me, walking over in the almost breezy autumn wind of a Texas winter to Chunk E. Cheese, the place where a kid can be a kid, to apply for a position. The way in was barred by several theater ropes and the glaring red seats and flashing games nearly blinded me as I came in. The application I filled out was to go to a too-busy-talking-on-his-cell-phone manager, so I handed it to the lady at the counter instead. I forgot to put what position I wanted. I could use Neville's rememberal in Harry Potter, to help me not lose track of where I'm going and where I've been.
Coming home, the final test of the day, was to e-mail several companies hiring writers; one for writing short articles at 5-7$ a pop, while the other was translating a video game from French to English. I don't know any French, except for the few French/English words that we've adopted into our language. Champagne, lingerie, and armoir. I might have even made that last word up. I do hold in my cup the ability to learn, no matter how the brain of human beings is said to start to shrink after 20. i.e. I'm trainable. Which means what? Dance when the organ grinder plays? There's worse things I guess, like not getting any coins in my cup.
I'll end with a quote from Fr. Alfred D'Souza, "For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin -- real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way. Something to be got through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life." And that is how I view my debt today. Not as a hump in the road to get over, but the road itself, as it twists and curves to create the pathway of my life.

Minimum Wage to Stupidity

The new minimum wage law was passed in the House of Representatives today. Feeling that it's a "poor man's law" may be correct. Perhaps it's just something to bolster the "poor man's" morale. Former presidents made laws like the "bank holiday," to bolster morale during the Depression. The law promises to raise the minimum wage to $7.25 throughout the next few years. Not too much promise on how that will effect small businesses, but the law hasn't even rounded the bend with the Senate yet, and provisions may be made. That makes me happy, though I hope the democratic congress considers the small business world as a factor. And my dad seemed to increase my allowance today, by sending me about 150$. Sweet. Except that a lot of it goes to the meds, those pills...50$ worth of it.
Talking about boosting morale... that's what the president was doing just today, discussing the move of 20,000 more troops to Iraq. He also mentioned cutting off support for Al Quiada from Syria and Iran. Iran seems to be considering nuclear arsenal and I'm sure that's something we'd like to keep out of their hands. He also discussed letting Iraq take responsibility for thier own policing by November, which seems like a good time line to me. The problem with Iraq right now is the different warring factions, the Sunnis and the Shiites. They have minor religious differences, such as God (shiite ideology) having already have come and will return, or (Sunni ideology) whether he will come in the future. Ossama Bin Ladin is a Sunni muslim, according to an HNN article. Personally, I'm glad they're over there destoying each other and I don't have to worry about death from car-bombings. I do, however, have debt to worry about. And there was salvaged from junk mail today one rsolutions e-mail that describes that they'd like an interview with me. Sam Hamdan left his number for me to call.
And I broke down earlier today. I called Subway. Then when my mom and I went out to Walmart, I stopped by. The smell of baked bread hit me at the door. Boldly I went foward to the counter and asked for my job back. I reflect and wonder what the hell was I doing... asking like that. But he took down my number even though they weren't hiring. So we'll see if Cliff, the owner, calls me back. Perhaps persistence gets a job. I think it's a mix of stupidity and the grace of a higher power. It might also have something to do with procreation and the ability of the human species to live on long after they should have been eclipsed by creatures like roaches. Don't let God hear me say that though, I want to stay on his good side.

Bipartison Politics?

I turn my computer on. There's the added ritual of banging the phone outlet to make the old 56K modem connect to the wires and twines of the web. I live in fear that my anatomically correct (I wish) mouse will not go out on me, causing me to rely soly on my keyboarding technique. So things aren't perfect. So what. I've got tea and shampoo and 52 ish dollars in my bank account. I like to think it came from heaven.
That's about half of my smallest bill. I am greatly encouraged. Life goes on. So I was talking to my therapist and she suggested some options for me. Going to the mall and just hanging out, (God, please I don't want to buy anything, save me from the sales people I soon will become) gathering applications like fish in a great fold of netting. That and Six Flags is having a mass hiring. Still I hold out on calling Subway. The youth center, YMCA is hiring. Fun, fun, hanging out with delinquent childen all day. But you never know what opportunities await you till you knock.
7.49 of those dollars came from a generous benefactor, my friend, Bryan Healy. Someone had to buy that silly scarf on Ebay. And since he joined 43things.com, the hat comes free. He shall be a knitter's delight, frought about with knitted bounty. Along with that there may not be a bounty for extra troops in Iraq if our democratic congress has anything to say about it. Bush proposal's this Wednesday will surely indicate that he plans to release about 20,000 more Americans onto the Iraqis. My democratic friends and I may not agree about troops in Iraq, but surely, like unlike Bush and Congress who enjoy speculating about bipartisan politics, we can put our differences aside to enjoy a nice cold glass of milk and cookies, the Santa way. While it's just a topic for politians to disagree on, we know who does the real work. So mall and YMCA tomorrow, God willing, I get a job.

On Internet Dating

On internet dating sites I wonder if anybody really finds anyone. The One. That maybe not perfect person, but someone interesting enough, brave enough, smart enough to take on the world with.
I have recently foraged into just such society, that of the internet dater. While most people have their lives together and can find love on their own there are a few people that need all the help they can get and what was I was doing there this fine winter day? Wondering what all these people do here. Some just wanted an easy way to "get some," while others were more serious about thier game. They wanted a partner. A Tonto to thier John Wayne, a buddy, someone to go through life with. But can I really take people who don't take the time to meet someone through normal means seriously? My name was sweetmayexplorer, and mostly I was there to do research for a writing project, but what I found was more than meets the eye.
Several candidates e-mailed me on singlesnet.com or said that my profile "caught their eye." Most of them weren't exactly serious relationship material for me. On match.com there was more luck. Several cute or interesting profiles of people who were just busy, so put that part of their life up to the internet to connect with people. And yes, I have put in for a job offer to write profiles for people like this. They said it paid 18-30$ a profile so I was encouraged to send in some profile's that I had honed down to perfection. Or so I'd like to think.
So my destiny in my own hand and several dating sites later, I may have a job, not to mention a date. *wink*

Ethics Versus Practicality and a Sense of Self

"All things are lawful to me, but not all things are profitable; all things are lawful to me, but i will not be brought under the power of anything." 1 cor 6:12 That's a verse from the Bible, folks. How about that for freedom? Congresswoman Nancy says to us that the Congress will fight putting more troops in Iraq. What big troops you have says the people of Iraq...the better to eat you with, says Bush. The ethics. The ethics behind a paper writing service for high school and college students. www.junglepage.com. Say writing papers for said service is profitable? If all things are lawful to me, why then should I not do it? Ethics says no. Our parents say cheating is wrong and if we cheat the whole fabric of society collapses. Is it ethical to send more troops than we already have to Iraq? Just to shoot paintballs and tear gas into crowds of angry citizens? "But I will not be brought under the power of anything." Say we need more oil...is it ethical invade other countries that will provide us with more oil? In a battle of practicality versus ethics, practicality wins. Practicality says "yes." "Yes," I would write papers for a service that I know will aid other students in cheating. Why? I could use the money.
There is another reason why I wouldn't work for this service and that is a matter of professional honor to myself. Not ethics as taught by Sunday school or church that tells me not to stretch the truth, but a sense of self. A hope that my writing would not grace some professor's table as another's work. The idea that I could never claim my work as my own. Perhaps the same feeling that an ex-porn star would feel trying to reclaim pictures of her from the press. That her ideas, her very self was sold and could not be reclaimed. In magazines and print, usually the writer has their name, their label, in the margin of the page. They can claim this work as their own and put the work in their portfolio.
In other news, something I may have to put in my resume; I've applied at Micheal's and Hancock Fabrics. May they call me with all Godspeed, for I've just spent money I don't have on a cell phone usb cable and that .94 cents might just send me over the edge into the red zone. No-one wants to get caught in the red zone. Least of all extra troops.

Running

My throat hurt and my lungs burned; I had just come back in from a run in the neighborhood. Everything was quiet as singing angels and the sky was a dark grey from the city lights. Some of my neighbors still have their Christmas lights up and they glowed eerily in the gloom. Passed the pond and was startled by some stick that could have been an alligator or swamp monster to my over-active imagination. My body out of shape, each foot thudding rythmically on the sidewalk, my lungs took in the cold air. There's something about running, whether it's physical: the endorphins, or mental: the fact of letting go of your body, that we are hard-wired to enjoy.
So this was a day of running, or haitus from said debt, and debting schemes. There are times when we need to go at a problem guns blazing, and other times when we should just take it a day at a time. Other times we should run. Bush seems to be doing this by putting it to a forefront that he'll solve the national debt by 2012 and considering the opening of congress, taking attention away from the idea that we may send more US troops to Iraq. World leaders and coal miners use the same tactic. Though we run from our destination, really home becomes our destination. What have we gained for all the exercise? Strength. A healthy body and a beating heart. An experience that will help us in the long run to live a happy, fulfilled life.

Busy Hub-bub

Tremendous amount of work done today, I filled out two applications. Distressing what life has brought me to. Begging by day it seems and dreaming sweet dreams of confusion and fashion (probably brought on by tvland's Ugly Betty) at night. Tomorrow, perhaps said applications go to the businesses, and shall be inspected, picked over and generally plied for information on the newest member of their team.
That and I'm getting desperate enough to call Subway again. Now working there wasn't bad. I got 6.25 an hour. Pretty good pay, considering. I worked at the Pantego store and the Pioneer store, two businesses under the same ownership. Maybe they could use someone to fill in the working time or just take shifts. The thing is I have to wear these awful pants which display my socks, yes, the cruel highwaters. Drama to the extreme. And then there's the fact that I end up smelling like bread when I come home. I suppose there's worse things I could smell like... pig manure for example. So Subway's alright with me.
I can't forget my goal...that -13,682.86 that looms on my desk. Talked to my daddy today and he says that he might send me some monies. Hurrah for mooching. I seem to have worn that path dry with my moms. But with my dad, parental control leaves far sooner than parental grace.
However, besides getting a job, a solid, unenchrochable source of income, there's another route we might try. Freelance writing jobs. Which is actually the close to the name of a site...online-writing-jobs.com. Writing for a living is like living in a tent that you have brought out of your pocket. Difficult to say the least. However, participating might build the writing resume and have supplimental income value. A money-making scheme to relax with, a mental massage, if you will.
One I could use, scheming and applying aside. Today holds as much promise as tomorrow, but today just becomes yesterday faster. So many people put store in what tomorrow brings. I say look out for today and tomorrow will look out for itself.

Debt or Death?

Today went well. There was nominated the first woman speaker of the house of representatives, Nancy, and I picked up several applications from some stores. Micheals seems to be the most intriging job, but there are Hancock Fabrics, Toys R' Us and Babies R' Us. It seems like in life we start down one road that is made up of several cross-roads, and then life seems to sharpen itself down to a point. This career to spend the rest of your life pursuing, or this person to spend the rest of your life with. Well, there's the choice we decide on first and there's the choice that we're stuck with.
A freind of the family died this week and it seems death is one of the choices we are unusually stuck with. However, in so many religions and philosophies, death is not the end of life, but the beginning of a new life. Reincarnation, heaven, Nirvana. Whatever you'd like to call it, we know that in our children, life goes on. So while a person we loved is not there, they still have a part of that spirit which lives. Maybe there's someone out there for all of us...that one person that we choose to create a life with. Just like there's one perfect job for each person. That job I'm looking to find.
Comparing my life and looming debt to our previous companion, I find many things to be thankful for. Thankful for the food I eat and the people I'm around everyday that I barely even aknowledge. Thankful I'm alive to solve this debt. That I have some time on this earth to pick up the burden of mankind and stand awhile on this ball of rock and water.
So tommorrow I offer my meager work history to the angry gods of the application, and supplicate to my kinder one that all will be well.

The Hunt Begins

And so the hunt begins. Prime minister Maliki in Iraq seems to have gone ahead with the execution of Hussin, regardless of US military attempts urging him to wait. And so I go foward in my job-hunt, though no military stands to hinder me, only the sands of time and my own physical constraints.
Four applications filled out. All for seeming dead-end, crummy jobs that I'm pretty sure I couldn't enjoy. One to rSolutions, a radioshack subsidiary, a sales position, selling wireless devices. I suppose selling jobs wouldn't altogether be a bad job, simply talking to people and learning about the devices would be interesting enough. Perhaps I would get a store discount.
The second application I filled out was to Hobby Lobby, one store which I revere as god to craftspeople, and knitters such as myself. The application I filled out was for a receiving stock associate and that work must intail putting up displays and unpacking trucks, I suppose. Boring job, maybe, but I bet the pay's good.
The third job I applied for was as a Night Owl shift dispatcher, with Express Personel Services. Not sure this job interests me, since I believe it is in Fort Worth, way to far for someone without a car to ask their mom to drive.
The last, and least, of the jobs, was for Inside Internet Ad Sales, with Dominion Enterprises. Surprisingly enough, none of them are jobs that really interest me.
The genesis of my search was at Google.com, looking for places to begin the job search. The number one search engine seems to corner the market, almost putting Mapquest out of business with it's maps, and sites like ebay out of business with it's Froogle, methinks it goes to put job search sites out of business with a beta version of a job search. That, careerbuilder.com, snagajob.com, and hotjobs.yahoo.com are all sites that I used in my search. Operation MeganFreedom underway.
An update on the ebay site. May be the biggest waste of 1.25$ that I've ever spent in my life. No one is bidding. Thought that I cornered the market in scarves, but one would really have to be looking to find my scarf. It's piled in with a hundred other scarf ads and no photo graces it's small rectangular ad.
My search today consists of mining the internet of it's numerous job searches and foraging around the neighborhood for places that are hiring. I'm getting desperate, though and those Silverleaf Resorts telemarketing campaign is starting to look pretty good. Last year my resolution was to bake more cookies. This year, my resolution is to get out of 13,000 dollars of debt. Well, I may not be making cookies, but this year I'm going to keep my resolution.

One Step

So the journey of a thousand miles begins with one step. Today that step was almost backwards. There's this thing called a "doctor's appointment" and "mental health." Mentioning this because my insurance doesn't cover said doctor's appointment and there's this copay. However, me forgetting my wallet at home my mom graciously stepped in to cover for me. 30.00$. And that'll be every month, thank you very much. The doctor talked and talked to my mom about my mental health and I "Yes sir-ed, no sir-ed" like mad, hoping against hope that my hate for the whole mental health system didn't show too much. Then he wrote out that white slip the reason I was really there, the medicine. Divine manna from heaven. A little white pill, taken every evening by me, to keep my inner sactum from collapsing on itself. Well, the 30.oo$ is a pill to take too!
What have I done lately to get myself out of debt? That is the question. Ebay. No, no, I don't lie. My 13,682.86 dollars of negativity has brought me to the conclusion that I must sell my soul on Ebay. Well, really just a test run. Ebay is one of the most lucrative sites on the web, and most of the money is made from the sellers of a certain product, not unlike a classified ad in the newspaper. Everyone knows it's a site that auctions off stuff for people but not many know how it works. Basically they charge you minimal fees for selling an item. Insertion fees for the ad and final value fees for how much the final item sells. About a quarter of the initial item fee and one/twenthieth of the final sold price is used to equal total fees.
I've started an ebay account and having just finished a beautiful two-foot-long soft green-and-purple scarf have posted it on "the bay," I irreverently christen the site. I've probably lost 1.25$ posting the item and there are seven days for people to bid on it. No one has so far. Very unencouraging for an avid knitter who enjoys seeing people happy with the items she creates. It's quite easy to start an account and easy for one like me to lose my money by posting items to sell. Mostly thinking this may not be a solid investment, this auctioning off items that when there's no one to appreciate my work. The top seller on Ebay right now is Wii. The latest video gaming system that allows your motions to be read by the screen. Now that's just spiffy. But it won't help me get out of debt.
The day was unprofitable. Out a dollar-twenty-five. We'll see what tommorrow brings.

Number Crunching

So here I am on the verge of asset extinction. The monies are not rolling in and in fact the hole is what I'm in, to be exact. Let me just say this isn't a dream, it's a nightmare and with an enchroaching mental illness-no one physician really gives me a correct diagnosis-the coffers of financial aid are turned out and the parents runneth dry. Might this be what Alice was talking about when she found herself in a hole and while passing the jar marked "Marmalade" turned out empty? Yet all hope is not lost... the Poet challenges us to take up arms against the sea of debters and this may be a new beginning as well as a closing of some more personal files.
We begin with an examination of some of these files...entitled "Bills to Pay," from the least to the greatest. Central Texas Pathology Associates claim I owe them for some medications which were used at a hospital. 186.59$. The Outpost Apartments: owing them 200.00$ for tripping out during the semester and causing them to re-rent. To Seton Shoal Creek Hospital I owe 330.98$, UT Southwestern calls me to pay 350.00$, and Nix Health Care System is collaborating with Medical Management Concepts to purge me of 400.00$. So far, not so good. Now the big ones. The 700.00$ owed to Hays County EMS, 1,300.50$ to Texas State University...the misers, 1,000$ due to Cathleen D.Harrioson, M.D., and for the grand finalie...10,254.79$ to the government, money supposedly well-spent in making me a productive member of society. However, I seem to have taken a turn onto the psychopath of life, of all the roads to have taken. Leading to a total of 13,721.86$. I have about 39.00$ in my lovely bank account right now. So this means I am worth a negative 13,682.86$. That's alot of negativity weighing in my life right now! That's 10,000 more dollars than troops that have died in Iraq to date.
While they're waging a war for freedom, I also am waging a similar war against tyranny of the dollar. Until I have a thousand dollars in my saving account and no black mark against my name we will not recall the metephorical troops consisting of my own two hands. We shall not fail whether it takes us a month or a year or a decade. Plans will be revealed as they come, hopefully spontaniously and without judgement. Jobs will be searched, applications filled, interviews taken seriously. With utmost care and sensibility we shall consider the alternative route to the "psychopath." Smoldering in the land of American opportunities and living in a nest of strip malls and other places of work there must be a perfect fit for someone like me, not to mention the numerous options afforded by the internet. Every hour will be taken under consideration as one that could be driving me out from under this cloud. Ok, maybe I'm fibbing a bit about every hour... but it is my resolution to make every minute count.
What enemies to fight... the ticking clock and consumerism for two... the desire to cut my hair and buy that shirt and that book and that and that until...one day I am consumed with the fires of desire. Must I live like a monk to pursue my goal? What pitfalls will there be along the way? We will find out. This is a story about the ending of debt, but well, this could be the beginning of something new... out of the ashes of debt rises the phoenix of riches.