| Howard Zinn is my loverboy |
[09 Jul 2004|12:39am] |
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Tonight I went to see "You Can't Stay Neutral on a Moving Train" which is about Howard Zinn's life. Howard Zinn is amazing. My current job search has led me to applying to so many different activism jobs, but all seem to require a 80-100 hour a weel committment and only pay 19,000 a year. That would be fine, because I do, so strongly, want to get to be a field director or manager of a campaign, but I have to pay off student loans, I have to eventually get a car...I don't know what to do about any of this. I also have no fucking clue where I'm moving at the end of August. I do want to do the teaching in Japan thing but I feel like it'll thwart my getting into diffucult careers like in journalism and activism. I really want to be put into a medically induced coma until the end of July when I have to wake up for visitors.
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[29 Jun 2004|08:45pm] |
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I found this:
[ Error: Irreparable invalid markup ('<a [...] ;>') in entry. Owner must fix manually. Raw contents below.] I found this: <a href="http://teacher.scholastic.com/activities/dinosaurs/";>DINOSAURS!</a> I miss those guys. |
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| Lovers |
[27 Jun 2004|10:15pm] |
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Lasnight I had not one but two romance dreams. I don't usually have romance dreams, as those of you who routinely read my dream posts, know by now. It all started with my "bussiness partner" and I, who were trying to save our storefront from being burnt down, apparently by laying down on a bed. One thing led to another, and we were making out (I looked a lot like Nicole Kidman). After such deeds, the "bussiness partner" said to me "I wish this was a fantasy and we could be together." And I said "But its not." To which he replied "My mom married her bussniess partner." Then the building went up in flames and he started ignoring me.
Blast.
The other dream was about a boy who had a girlfriend, shopping in the Asian grocery store, and tea. Which apparently was hot and sexy but if you can tell me how I'd like to know.
Its times like this that I'm made to wonder if I willl actually ever date again, which is looking dubious. The concept of making out seems like a commodity.
Concurrently, I am at my parent's house in NY, and bored out of my mind.
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| ANGER and HATE |
[25 Jun 2004|01:54pm] |
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Well, after almost a year of total patience with my creepy-loser boss, I lost it and quit the comic book store.
No, it wasn't the fact that he would tell me all about his underage crushes (who all had steady boyfriends.) Nor was it the fact that he said he loved yoga so he could see young girls' tight bodies. It wasn't even the fact that I felt essentially lame and horrific for working in retail at 23. It was, his constant blaming of me for each and every thing that happened incorrectly in the store.
He found out today that some kids had shoplifted. They were caught at Shaws. Instead of coming back and devising plans with me to stop future shoplifters, he started yelling at me, criticizing my personality and disposition as a reason for the offense. He takes no personal blame, which in anf of itself would be fine, if he would set some sort of professional boundries and act like a boss on occasions when hes not being rash. Instead of setting up rules to be followed, he just made them up when something went wrong, and then blamed me for not following them all along. Theres NO FUCKING REASON I should have to be made to feel like a loser every friggin' day for $8.50 an hour and no benefits.
But the best part of this story is the fact that I was borrowing his Harry Potter Book 5. And of course, I left it there for him. So the second I left the store, after he told me never to come back if I was to quit...I walked accross the street to Barnes and Noble and bought the book for myself. I was not going to let that asshole ruin my Harry Potter obsession.
Clearly I have my priorities straight.
Oh and yeah, I need a job, any ideas?
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[17 Jun 2004|11:11am] |
I was published in a online literary journal:
[ Error: Irreparable invalid markup ('<a [...] ;>') in entry. Owner must fix manually. Raw contents below.] I was published in a online literary journal: <a href="http://www.canwehaveourballback.com/19abruzzo.htm";>You can read this if you want to.</a> |
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| I dreamed I was an architect, but I am just a builder. |
[14 Jun 2004|07:23pm] |
In recent news, I've decided that I shouldn't leave my house. If it weren't for my desire for a hot shower, or perhaps a little money, than I'd officially be a shut-in.
I guess its hard on me, gaining like fifteen pounds. This makes me feel grosser, than already gross, which, was pretty gross.
I need a new job, ready to start that career thing. My current attemps are to teach English in Japan so I can soak in a deep tub and sleep on a futon. However, hopes are not so high, and I'm not ever thinking about a possible plane flight.
Man, when I stop thinking about death by aircraft, you know my soul has been shattered.
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| Not A Zombie but Close. |
[09 Jun 2004|12:34am] |
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Dear Livejournal.
Today I took a cold shower in my house as well as picked up my cat's shit off of a beanbag chair because she's decided its her new litterbox. I waded in poo and then decided that, hey...this is pretty damn sad.
We have no oil in the house, thats why theres no shower.
But yeah, so my main question for you is:
Does anyone want to adopt my pet rabbit, Soo?
She's the cutest rabbit, I feel so bad, but today she was almost humped by my roomate's rabbit, and then the cat stalked her. So I'm thinking she'd have a better life with a person who would take her out and play with her. So, those in the Boston area, if I can meet you and interview you for the role of Soo's new mom, then, maybe you can be that.
I WANT MY BUNNY TO BE HAPPIER THAN ME GODDAMNIT.
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| WHERE ARE THE JOBS GEORGE! |
[07 Jun 2004|01:13am] |
I'm having quite the time finding a job. Is it so bad that I want a job affecting some sort of change, while simultaneously making enough oney to live?
No, I didn't think so.
I'm almost 23, theres no reason I should be working in retail. I have a goddamned BFA!
So I've applied to the requisite teaching English in Japan job, to MASSPIRG, to various publishing houses...fifteen jobs in the past month...and have heard back from none. Lame.
What I really want to do is find a job working for a liberal deomcrat association. Grassroots stuff. That'd be amazing.
WHERE ARE THE JOBS???
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Oh another note, I have this friend called Hallie. She she;s like a little kid in the way that she's constantly prodding me. Literally, she walks down the street and pinches my ass, grabs my boob, pokes me in the arm, pats me on the head. Its fucking harassment! She says she does this "because she knows it bothers me." And yeah it bothers me! Its fucking annoying. I don't like to be touched when its not under the appropriate circumstances. Aka, hugs for solace, or dating, then its okay. She also likes me wake me up in the morning by turning on my lights and taking away the blankets! THE PRESCIOUS BLANKETS!
So today I elbowed her really hard, and she got so mad. She was trying to grab my boob!
Man, this is ridiculous.
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| Too frumpy for the teenage population of her kind. |
[02 Jun 2004|11:07pm] |
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Grandaddy |
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I wasn't expecting a date.
So yesterday I heard from a guy I'd known awhile back. We were never good friends, he told me about his new job, and suggested drinks after work. I assumed this would be so that we could sit there while he bragged about his new life and well-paying job. He found me on myspace, I should have known better.
So I get to the bar, and its an Irish pub which I like, but it was kind of crowded and he starts complaining about the crowdedness.
I get a vodka and cranberry juice.
Then comes the awkward silences, which I didn't think would occur with someone I used to know. This is when I figured out that maybe it was a date, and he was not getting what he'd bargained for.
The guy was kinda indie-rock-ish, but more designer-brand indie than thrift store and playing the music. More, "I sbop at Fred Perry and make 80,000 a year" than that.
I was so so clearly not the kind of Kimberly he was expecting.
Maybe someone taller, someone thinner, someone more cultured and with a better job. He didn't get the sense of humor in my green purse with vintage owls playing golf. He didn't understand why I made the comment about the lottery being depressing.
But the real clincher came after we left the bar (too loud). We went to this Indian resturant, and there were three tables full, and he starts complaining about how there aren't enough people there and that the food is going to be bad.
And its so clearly just a family-run Indian place.
So the food comes and he goes on to say its only okay, and makes all of these jokes. And gosh, for $6.95 Indian food, it was great! I wish I had gotten the dinner platter which included soup and dessert. But then he says "so are you ever going to do this again?" And I think he means hangout, but then he tells me he means blind dates, and I just look at him really confused.
Which is where it gets even more dumbfounding. I was so so so clearly not his type, so why did he ask me for drinks? Do I look that much different from my pictures?
Even though we were both going on the red line, we went down different streets.
This was by far the lamest not date I've ever been on. Should I feel rejeted?
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| Help for the common folk. |
[27 May 2004|03:08pm] |
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Guided by Voices |
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So in lieu of the fact that this summer is pretty much going to be massively crappy, I've decided to post a list of things I would like to achieve, and avoid, this summer.
_____________________________________
TO ACHIEVE
*Make the doctor give me a cardiac stress test (hopefully to be completed tomorrow at approx. 11am).
*Go minigolfing at least three(3) times.
*Visit at least seven(7) different photobooths.
*Go to the waterpark.
*Go swimming in a swimming pool more than once(1nce), a lake at least once(1nce).
*Take a spontaneous trip to London.
*Get a job with good pay.
*Make friends who are girls.
*Play shows with some sort of music project (pending).
If anyone thinks they can help me with these goals, please let me know.
TO AVOID
*Heart disease.
*Resentment (myself or others).
___________________________________
In other news, lastnight's dream included an oracle, hairless parakeets, and a talent show.
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[27 May 2004|12:31am] |
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a choice is facing you, a healthy dose of pain
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| Political Posts Never Seem Well Said. |
[25 May 2004|03:40am] |
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Venus, remarkably bright and eye-catching, has been a fixture of the western sunset sky for months. But now it's about to vanish. It's sinking into the glare of the Sun as it heads for a historic solar transit on June 8th.
a.) It is so blatantly obvious that there is no argument against a gay pride parade on the grounds that there are no straight pride parades. Are straight people persecuted, and thus need to increase their visibility? No. Let them march in peace you self-serving assholes.
b.) Yes the majority of Iraqis are in favor of a democratic-style government, but even if its as high as 70/30, thats still 30% of the population you'll have to kill off before no one is going to oppose. Theres going to be opposition, theres going to be cival war. This is an Iraqi issue. Please don't pretend you know the outcome is going to be good for the people. This is very much up in the air.
c.) Should we all go into re-education camps? Yeah, probably (props to Alex's mom.)
Nap dream where I insisted on jumping over extremely slippery rocks in the middle of the night. Of course, I lost my footing and fell in. Tiny sharks bit my arms and legs, until I could get back on the rock. Sometimes I'd start to drift away from shore because of the current. Then, someone would have to come get me. All I wanted was for this person to come jump rocks too, because it was implied that if they did, I would be sucessful. They wouldn't because, of course, it was ridiculous that I wanted to jump on slippery rocks in the middle of the night at high tide. But somehow, it seems destined that I keep trying until I got to shore.
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| The Beginning of the End of Tim |
[24 May 2004|05:45pm] |
Tim is a boy who I stayed with in Washington DC. Alex also stayed with Tim. Now Tim is staying with Alex and I, in different houses. Here are the pictures that followed:
Here is a picture of our respective chests. I'm on the right.
Here is what I would look like if I were 16 and angstful.
This is what Alex would look like if he were a soulful indie-rocker.
This is what I actually look like (including eye rolls.)
This is what Tim actually looks like (hes an emo republican.)
fin
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| Failure |
[22 May 2004|11:51am] |
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Alex. |
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The man never smiled. On top of that, he had lined up seven people for the same time slot, so therefore he only spent about seven minutes on me---and this was interviewing for a job for the department of defense, in Germany (this is the part where if I had time I'd babble on about how I feel like shit even applying for a job with the goddamn "department" of "defense.") This was perhaps the worst job interview I've ever been to, save one where I tried to get a job at a video store, and thought the manager's favorite movie was shit. The look on my face told all: there was no way I could love one who loved "Independance Day." At least for its art.
I supposed when faced with the fact that out of 136 applicants, hes only picking 40---my opinion is probably a little swayed by reality, however, except for having a place to live in Europe, that job had absolutely no meaning to me. It was a job being a hotel attendant, cleaning dishes, toilets, beds...etc. The really luky ones got to sit desk. The housing was supposed to be free, but then the man said they were going to instate a 100 dollar fee. Which makes the free housing thing pointless. Yes, I'm really dissapointed that now its going to be quite a bitch trying to live in the EU someday, unless I marry someone with citizenship, or something, but man, 13 months of scraping ambassator's crap off of the toilet seat? I don't know how well that would have gone. Yes, yes, living in Europe is probably pretty high up on my list of Kimberly Dreams, under publishing books of poems and writing for renowned magazines.
I guess I could get hired. Perhaps.
My other option is with the science museum, teaching people stronomy at the planmetarium. Thats an amazing job, but again I don't know if I'd get it, it pays so poorly---but the interview was great.
There is no way, no jesting, that I will be able to afford to live. I suppose I will now begin the process of finding three jobs, or at least working the shit shift at some factory to get money.
I'm moving in September, unless somehow I get an absolutely amazing job in Boston---Portland, Oregon is almost as cool as Europe, right?
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| Afraid of Dying/Flying On an Airplane. |
[19 May 2004|04:12pm] |
I'm going to have an article published in a magazine in Glasgow! People, in another country, will be reading my article. That is so rad. www.chickmagazine.co.uk
My interview for Germany job happens in DC on Friday. I should be very excited, however, all I can think about is how if I get that job, I'll have to fly on a plane. If I get it, I can't imagine being able to be excited---not until the plane lands safely, which I doubt it'll do. So, it seems like a mixed blessing. God, but if somehow I don't die on the plane, I can't imagine getting there and being thrown into circumstances where I have to live with other Americans, at a army hotel, in Germany; when I've never even been to Europe. If I survive the plane---then I'll be madly excited.
Also, I'm thinking this post will serve as sad/ironic once the plane crashes and you all look back and go "she predicted it." Crap.
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| If I went to Iraq. |
[14 May 2004|02:45pm] |
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Waking up to Us. |
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In lieu of my possible impending flight on a plane, I thought that I'd have tons of plane crash dreams. I usually do, even when I'm not planning on maybe flying soon.
Two points:
Last night there was a show on PBS about alzheimers, chronicling the life on a woman who finds out she has the disease at 54. They show her breaking down and then slipping away, and being totally terrified. This scares the shit out of me, perhaps more than flying.
Secondly:
Last night, I had a dream that I was in Iraq, apparently defending myself from attackers on a beach. Then comes a bomb, which I catch when its undetonated, but after I try to throw it, it explodes in my hand. My finger gets totally blown off, and my parents show up, saying we need to go to the hospital and giving me a rag to soak up the blood, which if profuse. We go to the hospital and they make me sign paperwork, then we go into triage, where theres this insane long line. I try to tell the doctors that I have priority since my hand is slowly losing feeling and the bloodless is immense. They just tell me I have to wait, and that if I need surgury, which I clearly do, I'll have to go to London or the US for that. After telling my parents I want to go to London and asking them if afterwards we can hang out for a few days, I take off to the hospital, traveling by jeep and dodging bombs on the way. Once we get to the airport, which is strangely nice for Iraq, I find the flight to London, but have lost my parents! I woke up after trying to call them on their cellphone, but the future looked dim for my finger.
Aie.
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| The 1 Yard Line. |
[13 May 2004|03:11pm] |
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Ted Leo |
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I was watching "The Bachelor" last night. I know, I know, this isn't so good for a girl who's having self-esteem issues, but it was entertaining. And I thought, "You know, if I were ever to fall in love with a football player, I'd just get my heart broken." There is no way, ever, that a football player would be interested in me. Its like the difference between plants and meat. I'm the plant.
If I were to fall madly for a beefy, handsome football player, he'd look at me, with my black hair and bangs and tie and cardigan, and just laugh. I think it'd be the first time since elementary school there would be such an impossible crush. So this brings up the question: am I purposely not attracted to football players? Is it only because I know I could never actually date one of them, seriously? I'm attracted to dorky looking boys with a sense of irony. But---is that just a defense against the inevitable heartbreak that loving a football player would cause? This is a legitimate question.
And, is there a dorky ironic football player out there? Seeking refuge from the cheerleaders and barflies?
I'll never know!
I would say I'm going to make it my mission to try to obtain a football player of my very own, but that just seems futile. Instead I'm focusing my energies on not dying of a heart attack if I have to fly on a plane, and on trying to go see Belle and Sebastian in Rome.
If I get that Germany job, and then, if I don't die on the plane over. I'm so so scared.
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| I Am Staying Inside. |
[11 May 2004|06:05am] |
When I was little people called me a troll. They pulled my hair. Due to my big eyes and glasses, they called me "mosquito." One day this girl dug her nails into my hand and made my bleed because she said I was so ugly I needed to be hurt. I was of course short, had this insanely frizzy hair, zits, and annoying glasses. Oh guys, and headgear. I had friggin' headgear. Okay so clearly I was not given the best foundation...but come on really. They could have given the kid a break. I had a huge crush on Matt Pock. He was a jerk but one day I thought I'd be flirty and throw a grape at him. We were twelve or so, and he just stuffed it down my shirt and told me I was a "skank", which at that point I think meant "gross", and moved on. It was very rainy that day. My school was a bunch of portable buildings, so I went to the lunchroom alone and sat there until the bell rang. Other times, the kids would just push me as I went down the hall, always saying that it was because I was so unattractive. Then when I was fourteen or so, this kid came up to me and said "wow, look at you, you look so much better than when you were ugly back in middle school, you're kinda pretty now." Thanks dude.
Its 6am. I had one of those nights where one of my guy friends talked to me for hours about all the exceedingly sweet things he wants in a girl, and then went on to tell me how great I am and how I'll find a great dude one day. You know, "cute, rare, genuine..." All of that. Which to be honest is not at all a compliment, since even if said friend did like me a bit, its obviously not nearly as much as said imaginary girl who reads him children's books. So fuck that, why do people try to give compliments when they are so clearly, not solicited.
I'm not joking when I say the following: I think I'm fucking ugly. Although not fat, I have gained weight, and thus feel so for my 4 foot ten inch frame. I have a severe looking face. I'd love to look innocent and you know, if I wanted to blend in at a job interview, that'd be okay. I'll never do that, my height if anything will always set me apart. Crap I sound like a tool but hey---we all think such things at some point correct?
I feel like shit.
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| The Heart. |
[08 May 2004|01:32pm] |
Dream in which I have AIDS when I'm 24.
Dream in which I don't get the job in Germany because I can not afford a car, then punch the lady in the face.
The actuality that my friends don't want me to leave now that I might.
The fact that meeting people only happens when one has to go away.
The fact that Terence is probably right but there absolutely nothing I can do about that damn.
Maybe I'll keep the friends I have?
Maybe someday I'll actually get to see belle and sebastian play.
My heart has been acting up, and thats lame.
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