Someday, I'll have a new Buddy

When I finally get a new job (still no word, by the way) and we get our finances in order and Matt gets his new computer, I'm going to buy a Buddy.

What the hell is a Buddy? It's a scooter, of course.

The one I want runs about $2,600 plus taxes and fees. I'd also have to get my motorcycle license, since the Buddy runs at 125cc. In the state of Minnesota, you don't need a motorcycle license if the bike is at 50cc or lower, which is classified as a moped. Who wants a dinky moped? They don't break 30 MPH.

Matt is of course making fun of me for wanting a scooter. But what else can get 80MPG? And since we live in St. Louis Park, the farthest commute we'd have is St. Paul, which is less than 20 miles away. I'm not sure I'd take the scooter all the way to St. Paul, but who knows. On top of cheap commutes, the insurance for the Buddy runs anywhere from $50 to $100 a year for full coverage and under insured motorists, depending on your driving record (last time I got any sort of violation was in 2001, thankyouverymuch).

This guy would be perfect for running errands and yes, even going to work. You can fit two to three bags of groceries under the seat. This Buddy even seats two people.

I told Matt he'd have to get his motorcycle license also, because no matter how much he makes fun of me for it, he'll eventually want to take it out for a spin.

I need to pay off my current car, first. And of course keep it because I wouldn't ride this in the winter.

There even was some guy who rode his Buddy across America. That sounds like fun ... and also insane.

Someday, I'll have a new Buddy.

Photoshop fun

I'm teaching myself some VERY basic photoshop techniques, techniques that today's kids probably know how do as soon as they're born. Anyway, here they are:

This beauty is the original. (It's an osteopermum, in case you're wondering. Or for the common knuckledragger, a daisy.)

Here's what I did to it:

You will never find this color. At least not yet. I love it.

Now, this color DOES exist in nature. Why I felt to make a yellow daisy, I'm not sure. But I was experimenting, so shut up.

I also screwed around with Gerbera Daisies (these ones aren't so good):

This is the original red gerbera daisy.

This is the daisy after I messed with it ... looks like it went on an acid trip. FREAKOUT!

This model is in an orange color. You can see twinges of pink on the edges of the bottom petals. Contrary to what you're thinking, this is a common trait in Gerberas. This was my best alteration.

I think an ink pen threw up on this one. Poor thing - ink is virtually IMPOSSIBLE to remove.

And that concludes another edition of "Things I Do When I'm Bored." Join me next time as I attempt to make three houses, one each of sticks, bricks and straw.

Only four posts? Pathetic.

Why, oh why, can't I commit to anything? I say I'll write everyday, and then I don't. But I'm here now.

I've been feeling off lately, and with that comes me being more aloof than usual. Ugh. I've been pondering while falling asleep exactly what my problem is. I finally figured it out.

Work.

It's been super slow lately. I am hearing rumors that I'm going to be hired soon. But that's all they are - rumors. And for some reason that really bums me out. I hate to say it, and I mean REALLY hate to say it, but I'm afraid that if I don't get hired, I'll be forced to look for a new job. First of all, money is really tight lately. It usually is after the holidays, but we are feeling the pinch more than usual. (That's easy - we're trying to get out of debt AND I'm not working two jobs. But I told Matt forget it, I'm not working two fucking jobs anymore!) Anyway, money isn't the only issue. I'm bored. Really bored. I don't have to think too much when I do the technical aspect of my job. Bored, bored, bored. I can do some aspects of my job in my sleep.

Lately, I haven't felt needed. I often wonder if anyone would notice if I just didn't show up one day. Now I know that's not true. It's just the way I feel. Right now, we're in what's called a freeze. Nothing new is allowed to be posted ... I believe this ends next week. That's a big part of why I have nothing to do. I also forget that at this time last year, I was only working four hours a day (I currently work seven). Three hours makes a big difference, believe it or not.

However, not all parts are boring, and I'm heading into a really heated time. The freeze will end next week. I'm going to two conferences - one in person and the other over the phone. I'm excited about both. I love learning, and I especially love learning about my field. Both conferences involve business communications (of course). My boss asked me to help with a local business comm conference at the end of January. Even though I'm a volunteer, I believe I'll still be able to attend some of the breakout sessions.

What really annoys me lately, though, is how I try to throw myself out there to help with a project, only to be discreetly shot down. I try to offer my help when people go on vacation, and I'm given hardly anything. I'm not doing it to make myself LOOK better (although it does help); I'm doing it because I want to learn more about the company. And, yeah, to advance my career. Who doesn't do that? I understand that I haven't been there long enough to REALLY know anything, but how the hell am I supposed to learn anything if no one gives me a chance?

I keep hearing the same rhetoric. "You're awesome! We don't know what we'd do without you! You are a rock star! How do you do it all? Thank you for all you do!" And I know it's whole-heartedly said. For me, actions speak louder than words. So, let me do something! Let me prove to you why you should hire me.

That said, there are two sides to every story. Here's the other side.

At a team event, the big boss (a shade under the Big big boss and higher than my boss) said to me (not quoted verbatim), "You're valuable here. We appreciate everything you do. I hear good things from everyone on the team ... I also hear that you're going to client meetings and are working on some comm plans. That's a big deal. It shows that team members are confident in introducing you to their business partners. They wouldn't bring you to those meetings if they didn't think you were capable of handling it. You need to let us know what YOU want to do. Make the best use of your time here. Make sure that you are learning what you want to learn, so you can advance your career. Shape this experience for you (or something like that). And ... we're working really hard to keep you. If we get the headcount, we will hire you for a full-time position! I can't make promises, of course, because I don't want to [get your hopes up] but we definitely want you a part of the team. We'd love to have you."

Then I hear from another boss of mine (I have three I can report to, depending on what project I'm working on) that there's a hint I'll get hired. "Did big boss tell you that you might get hired?"

"Well ... big boss said that they're working on it. Big boss never actually said I was getting hired."

Casually this boss said, "I hear from my sources that there's a really good chance that you'll get hired. Really good. But big boss probably doesn't want to say anything to you, just in case ... well, you know."

It took me a moment to process this, "What?! Huh? Are you SURE?" as I sat there, trying not to grin like an idiot.

"Yup. I have my sources, I know my people."

Nonchalantly (as possible) I said, "Oh. Huh ..."

This was RIGHT before Christmas. I refuse to believe it. I WON'T believe it. I wish I hadn't heard it AT ALL. I'm very impatient. Time will tell, right?

But, I also have other people helping me. These individuals constantly give me advice and tips to help me get noticed (and it's working). They let my boss know what I've done well. And, at meetings where my name has come up, people sing my praises (I've been told this by my bosses themselves). I went to a meeting, where I met three people from a different team. Later, I heard that "The meeting went well and they were impressed by you. So-and-so was impressed by you and said good things about you."

Anyway, this has been tormenting me every day I walk in there. Everyday. I worry about how I'm appearing to everyone, as budget talks are starting soon (if they haven't already, which I'm sure they have). I worry about not having enough to do (but I know everyone knows there isn't much for me to do - believe me, they've been going home early every day lately).

But most of all, I worry about the possibility of giving this up. Anyone who has EVER looked for a job knows how much of a pain-in-the-ass it is. I don't want to do that right now. However, if I have to, I have to. I'm in the place where I want to be, with the chance to eventually move into what I'd like to be: a communications manager. I'm lucky. Will my luck run out soon?

Have I done enough? What position (if any) would they have for me? Will this really happen, or am I going to be severely disappointed? No one has remotely breathed a WORD to me since December. (Calm the hell down, we're 11 days into January.) That's what I hate. I wish someone, anyone, would give me an update. Will it happen one day - I walk into work and SURPRISE! We need to talk to you. What does your day look like? Come with us to this room.

Who will be in that meeting? And if I were to get hired (by the way, is it a 50/50 chance? I think the odds of what direction this will go differs, but the answer itself is a 50/50 chance ... yeah, that's it) will I be able to negotiate? What am I worth? What do they think I am worth?

Or will it be a repeat of last year: "We're sorry, but it doesn't look like it'll happen. You know why." (Yes I did. Well ... the real reason didn't show its ugly head for two months. Only then did I understand. And I was OK with that.)

As it stands, I have no paid vacation. No benefits, no paid time off, no sick days. No perks and certainly no discount. What I do have, however, is a great working environment. A team that doesn't treat me like a worthless contractor. Respect from (and for) all my bosses and co-workers. Opportunities to shadow people when I ask, opportunities to learn more about the company, and most importantly, opportunities to write and edit outside my usual parameter. I've been given more respect than any contractor I've met. I've certainly been given more opportunities than any contractor I've met.

Overall, I feel blessed. What started out as a rant evolved into what usually happens: understanding. Now that I've hashed it out on electronic paper, I can say that I feel better about what's happening (and, to a lesser extent, what ISN'T happening).

Here's what I can offer. I'm a quick learner (they already know this). I'm a sponge ... I absorb everything I can! I've been editing for almost two years now (REALLY?). I can adapt my writing style any way needed (it's a skill I picked up in college - writing for a newspaper and then turning around and writing a 15-page paper requires you to write entirely different for both!). I'm an insider - I know more about the company than an outsider (duh). I am a good writer, once I figure out the audience and the way I should craft the message. And for Christ's sake, I have a passion for the industry and what I do and what I will do within it. Make sense? I also like to think that my age and "freshness" (by being a recent college grad), if you will, will offer a new point-of-view and voice to the department.

I am terrified of February and what it may NOT bring.

Patience is a virtue, which is what makes it so hard to possess.

Home, Sweet Home

Ah, home. A place to live. A place to go to when work is done. Enough with the crap. Shut up.

Home right now sucks. Why? Simple. From the time we began moving in here until now, we've:

• Dripped bleach on the CARPET
• Marked up the walls BIG TIME (and not just in our own apartment - up and down the hallway, too)
• Broke one of those emergency lights, the ones that turn on when the building power goes on
• Gouged our closet door. How? Well ... it was sitting up in our dining room. We took it off the track as a way to help get our GINORMOUS couch into the apartment. Anyway, we planned to leave it off its track until we got the couch back OUT of the apartment (it doesn't fit). Well, one night (in the middle of the damn night, scaring the hell out of everyone probably including our downstairs neighbors), it fell over and hit Yoshi's (one of our cockatiels) cage. Practically gave the poor thing birdie cardiac arrest. So, the cage is now all bent to hell, the closet door has a gouge in it, and one of the metal dowels is bent from the fall. And Yoshi might be permanently brain damaged - who knows.
  
• The couch. It doesn't fit. So it's wedged in our hallway, waiting for someone to buy it. It has little tears in it from rubbing against the walls and ceiling.
  
• Matt practically burned down our old apartment. He lit a match, and it cracked in half. The half that was falling to the floor ignited halfway down. When it hit the carpet, of course, it started on fire. When the manager came in to do our moving out walk though, she exclaimed, "What's that smell?!" "Oh, nothing ... just a match."
  
• Broken not one, but two lamps. They still work - they just need to be fixed.
• Our silverware drawer is ready to rip off. Not our fault, but still ...

As I said to Matt tonight, "I've NEVER had so many problems with an apartment before. And I've lived in A LOT of places!" And then I walked off, probably mumbling something about how things were better when Ike was in office and womens' places were best in the kitchen (IT'S A JOKE PEOPLE - you tell me to stay in the kitchen and I'll kick your ass first. And then hit you with a frying pan.).

Lately, our life is like a goddamn Laurel and Hardy sketch. Good thing we don't keep pie in the house.

*Cue slapstick music*

Three times, THREE SEPARATE TIMES, I've walked into the wrong apartment. And then Matt confessed that he did the same thing. You'd think we'd walk into different apartments, just to mix things up. Oh, no. We've walked into the same goddamn apartment every time. (This is the part where Charlie Chapman looks impishly into the camera.)

Why doesn't this guy lock his damn door? Honestly.

Snowfall

It finally snowed. Significantly. I love how snow can suddenly renew a landscape. What was once brown and dead has been renewed with different shades of white and crystal. The sun reflecting off the snow gives the covered landscape life. Wind comes and shapes the landscape, making it look different, yet the same. There’s still snow, but now it’s moved and changed shape. Like a life-sized Etch-A-Sketch.

Coincidentally, this snowfall came at the eve of the New Year. A perfect time for one to reflect on his or her changing landscape and search for an inner peace. The snow gives the city a soft, peaceful silence. It is out in the snow that one can truly reflect on his or her life, dreams, fears, hopes. The snow doesn’t judge, but rather it listens quietly and absorbs spoken, conscious thought.

For me, snow is romantic. The way it beautifies even the ugliest stubs of grass, how it sits on trees, bending them ever so slightly, giving them a weepy, quiet look. Snow is soft, gentle, and is still. I love nothing more than to walk in the falling snow, allowing the flakes to grace my face and hair, reminding me that self-renewal is always a possibility. Chivalry is not dead, but alive and well. Couples go for a walk – one falls, and the other helps her up. A boyfriend brushes snow off his girlfriend’s face. A wife steadies her husband, who is on ice skates for the first time.

I love snow for its all-encompassing personality. For as gentle as snow can be, it can also serve as a harsh mistress. Blizzards can kill, as well as ice storms and bitter cold temperatures. Thin ice invites tragedy. The very snow many fall in love can turn deadly in moments. For no reason. As quickly as the snow unleashes its vengeance, it settles into a slow dusting, before disappearing all together.

I cherish every snowfall, for it’s renewal, romance, and unpredictability. Very much like my own life. There’s always hope for renewal and romance, but I face unpredictability along every step. Two-thousand and seven will be the year of renewal and romance for me. And there will be plenty of storms along the way.

All I have to do is dream

Matt and I were watching Donny Deutsch's "Big Idea" show last night. Bill Gates was the show's guest, so Matt and I curiously watched.

The thing with Bill Gates is, you really wouldn't know he's insanely rich by watching him. The man has a $12 Cost Cutters hair cut, non-designer glasses (as far as I can tell - they're probably still very expensive) and doesn't wear shirts that are eleventy-billion thread count (yes I know that applies to sheets, but I'm just sayin').

But, wow, he's incredibly smart. Even answers to simple questions lit a fire under his ass and he spoke with the eloquence of a well-adjusted public speaker. At least the money he's spending on image is money well spent!

Of course, Donny asked what Bill Gates has on his iPod. Eh heh heh, he made a funny! Donny the Douche, ladies and gentlemen!

Ultimately, the viewing of the show lead Matt to say, "What would we do with all that money?" Before I could even ellicit an intelligent response (pay off debt, buy a solid house, cars, etc.), he said, "We wouldn't live here."

That answer surprised me. In my lifetime, I always dreamed of living anywhere but boring ol' Minnesota - Las Vegas, Colorado, Texas to name a few. So I asked, "Where would we live?!"

"I'd live on a lake. Do lots of fishin' ..."

Again, I was surprised. I expected him to say he'd live somewhere warm and sunny. Or even in Colorado. Summoning my courage, I said, "Well ... see, I have this dream." I stopped.

"What?"

"Well, ... I want to write. If I ever became a famous author, I'd have a cabin in the North Woods, maybe on a lake, maybe not. Anyway, I'd go up there for a summer and just write. It'd be my solace." Suddenly, I realized how romantic the idea sounded. Being away from here without really leaving ... taking walks in the woods, spotting the first Lady's Slipper, bird watching, and cranking out about five hours of solid (or sometimes not) writing a day. Meanwhile, Matt goes fishing or hiking ... and nights would be spent sitting on the dock with a glass of wine or two (which is funny, because I really don't care for wine).

Maybe someday a novel will spill out of me. I think I'd have a pen name. I bet my maiden name would sell way more books.

It could happen. But I have to figure out what to write, first. And how to write. I don't much care for writing groups, but I suppose it would behoove me to join one.

This all went through my head far quicker than it took to write. I ended my thoughts with a simple, "It's stupid to dream."

Ah, the good ol' cynicism.

Matt admonished, "It's not stupid to dream!"

I know he's right, but I'm the logical one, the realist, the grounded one. I have trouble dreaming because of economics. Instead of freely dreaming, I think of how much this dream will cost. What sacrafices will have to be made. How to do it. Kids, mortgages, even furniture for a new place. And then I lose sight of the dream.

I just remind myself: All I have to do is dream and desire. Then my heart is in the right place and I can do anything.

Go Johnny, Go

I've decided to make the move from Live Journal to Blogspot. Maybe it's because I want my writings to take on a more pensive feel. Whatever the case, I'm taking the advice of a college professor (not mine - I only interviewed him for an article I wrote).

"Jackie," he said excitedly, "You should write every day! It's important to write every day."

This advice, coming from a published author (in several countries), is now well-received. His other advice, for me to continue studying the Spanish language thus becoming fluent, wasn't as well-received. Perhaps if I would have studied abroad, I would have taken this advice as well. But studying abroad is costly, and I didn't want to pay for it for several years the way my best college friend will. That said, money isn't everything. In my short 23 years on this Earth, I've realized that health and happiness far exceed the balance in your checkbook, or the amount of debt you find yourself carrying.

I plan on writing about observations - the way things touch me, irk me, inspire me. How I would do things differently, or why I wouldn't change things for the world. I wish I had more important things to write and think about, but I'll leave that for my horribly-PC Uptown/U of M crowd. I'll let them hash over why Bush is the devil, or how Barack Obama would be the greatest president ever. Sorry kids, I just don't see it. But maybe the time has come where America is looking for a Joe Schmoe, the way they did when they elected Jimmy Carter (let's not get started about that administration - sigh).

What I've found amusing today is John Edwards. Oh, Johnny, you are a source of comic relief. You are far from your counterpart Howard Dean (yeaaaarrgghh!), but I'll take you in a pinch. Again, Johnny is running for president (I guess being a semi-ambulance-chasing trial lawyer isn't doing it for him these days). Again we hear about how horrible the poor have it (OK, I don't disagree) and how much Wal*Mart sucks. We get it. He even made a point of signing his new book at a Barnes and Noble across the parking lot from a Wal*Mart because they pay their employees more money per hour. The kicker? Barnes and Noble pays their employees $7.00 an hour. Wal*Mart pays their employees $7.50 an hour, John Edwards' acceptable wage.

But Jackie, you say, he protests more than the wages Wal*Mart pays their employees. He protests the working conditions, the horrible ways employees are treated, and so on. Fine. But I am using this as an example ... he was speaking specifically about the paying wage, not about the corporation in general.

And why does John Edwards think that $7.50 is a livable wage? Maybe for Appalachia, but certainly not in Minneapolis. And furthermore, why does he think people are poor because they are too lazy to work? Perhaps that's the case for some, but for others it's because they've fallen on hard times, the sucky job economy, not being able to afford a car to get to work and their current public transportation is scarce or doesn't even exist, or maybe government-sponsored programs such as welfare or Social Security keep people poor. Some people work two or three jobs and still can't afford to pay the rent. Some strive to get an education only to find that they still aren't qualified for a higher-paying job, and then in six months the government is calling their house asking for the first loan payment. Never mind that Congress has received seven, yes seven, pay increases since 1997.

So yeah, any jerk can go and get a job at McDonald's. That's not the problem. There are many more underlying factors, which I mentioned above. Why can't we have a safety net system? Why do we keep wasting government money on these programs that keep the classes divided? Do your homework, Johnny.

And get off my lawn.