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.