Nature's Aria

Breathing is Important, I Hear

2008-06-28T20:53:00.003-05:00

So, I have a job interview. Well, two actually, but one is Monday and one is a week and a half away, so I'm going to hyperventilate over one of these at a time. Pace myself. Give my adrenal glands a break.

It's only a part-time position, thirty hours, but I am so tired of having nothing to do. Having unlimited free time is really boring - and stressful. Which is weird, because really what do I have to stress about? Which is what I think annoys me the most. I get all panicky because I'm not doing anything... and there's no reason to be stressed. I need logic for my emotions. This, of course, stresses me out even more. It's been a viciously circular month in my head.

Anyway, Job #1 is in a library at a community college. The job itself doesn't have me worried, I can libraratize like no one's buisness, but the interview is not going to be pretty. I don't do well in conversations. Then again, the woman already had to put up with my abysmal phone skills and still wants to interview me, so maybe there's hope here. I am very much not exaggerating here. I wish I was. But the rudiments of conversation are so darn hard. Like, when you're setting up a time, how do you wrangle around to a time within two minutes? I'm sure it's possible. Yet, I always wind up spending an eternity trying to strike a balance between convincing the interviewer that my schedule is open for her convenience and making random guesses at a good time after I've already basically told her I have no life, so pick a time she can fit me in and I'll show up. Also, how do you hang up? I say 'thank you,' then he says 'thank you,' and then there's dead air. Should I say 'goodbye?' That seems abrupt coming from a prospective employee, shouldn't he end it since he's the one who called? All this runs through my head during a phone call. At the end, I'm left with sweaty palms and the vague feeling that I said something idiotic, but I'm not sure what exactly.

It gets worse in person. Because then I'm trying to figure out what they want in an employee and how I can look like that. Also, how not to say anything dumb. The job I can do, the interview for the job might kill me. I tell myself that I cannot be the only person who feels this way. The only way I can do this is by assuming everyone else is making all the same mistakes and puffing into paper bags in their cars as well. Hopefully they're also consuming fudge by the quarter-pound. I hate to gain weight alone.

Death to Quality

2008-05-14T17:01:00.003-05:00

So, at what point can I legitimately panic about not having a job yet? I graduated Friday - is now too soon? Too late? Was my panic in April spot-on? Should I concentrate on job-panic and not on the appropriateness on said job-panic?

So I graduated.

It's all official: the President of the University, the Dean of the College of Arts & Sciences, and the Dean of the English Department are all very certain that I am indeed fully qualified and very ready to be out facing the Real World of which I've heard so many tales. I am not fully convinced, but that doesn't seem to matter much in the great scheme of things.

Thus, here I am - updating after a long, long break - frantically applying to jobs and hoping that somewhere along the line quantity really does matter and eventually people will get tired of seeing my name and hire me somewhere just to get me out of the job hunting sphere. I can see that glorious moment in my mind:

"Sir, sir. I've another application. It's that Sunny person again."
"Good God, not another one. Look, is there something, anything we can stick her in? I'm going to have a seizure if I have to read her resume one more time."
"Well... there's this. It's a position where...."
"Great, whatever. Give it to her. And shred that resume when you're done. Then burn it. Then douse the ashes in Holy Water and bury them in another country. I swear they resurrect themselves and multiply when no one is looking."
"Um... yes, sir."

That, my friends, is how I will get a job. Is it noble? No. Is it dignified? No. Is it any reflection upon my abilities or qualifications? No. Until someone tells me how to find a job any other way, however, I am going to be out in the Real World - annoying for my livelihood.

Wish me luck!

Oh Dear

2008-03-24T19:22:00.004-05:00

Well, I've now done something I'm not entirely proud of - but it's not my fault! I swear!

See, I felt somewhere close to 'just shovel the dirt over me, boys' today so, naturally, I sat in my butterfly chair, propped my feet on a kitchen chair and cleaned out my harddrive. Naturally. While doing so I ran across an essay that I wrote last spring for a creative non-fiction class. The original essay was about the written language, which was returned with the comment, 'Too esoteric. And wordy.' (Or something to that effect.) After cursing a bit - it's about 'the written language,' what other vibe can you strike with that subject? - I wrote a new, mildly sarcastic draft.

A representative excerpt is as follows (for those of you who don't want to read this - interesting - bit of literature, skip down to the bottom for the dramatic reveal of my dastardly deed):

"What synapse connected deep within the first primordial brain that suggested, “Hey man, what do you think of the letter T? It could be the beginning of that tree-thing over there. Eh, eh?” Who was the first caveperson to think of connecting vague squiggles together to represent a reality? Was this idea a passing fancy, born out of young Oglet’s mind as he pondered the sunset one balmy summer’s night? “Oh my,” did he proclaim, “Surely there must be some way for me to convey my soul’s rapture at this brilliant display of light and shadow! Quick, I must hasten to create a written language to record every ode that yearns within my breast!” Was this the beginning of writing, yet another means for teenage angst and melodrama to inflict itself upon the world? If Ug had not complained that Oglet was giving her a headache, would the written language have never risen? Perhaps, however, writing came more from necessity, a practical measure. Maybe Og took Ugo aside one fire-lit night, saying, “Ug is onto us. I think she somehow figured out the arrows that I’ve been etching onto cave walls. We gotta come up with something else.” Of course, Ugo, growing mildly weary of hiding, might have tartly suggested that Og finally do what he had said he would for ages and move out of Ug’s cave and begin chipping a new one. No fan of menial labor, Og could have responded, “Now’s not a good time, my sweet. Ug has been having a terrible time growing the non-poisonous green bush and Oglet has begun to moan about the futility of life and I can’t add to their burdens anymore right now… how about we make up a secret language?” Was it from one of these points that the idea of a series of peculiar shapes meaning a spoken sentence emerged?"

Ahem. Yes, well, I was young. And foolish. And somehow got an A, which was quite a shock in the sober light of day.

In any case, feeling poorly and amused retroactively by my disgruntlement, I felt Oglet needed an outlet to express more of his pre-livejournal woes. So, to my shame, here is Oglet's blog: Oglet's World. Updates will be - fascinating, I'm sure. Frequent is a bit of a stretch, but we'll see. Maybe Oglet has more to say than I do.

Any Port

2008-03-22T13:24:00.003-05:00

Sadly my Spring Break is almost over. Especially sad because now I have to do all the research for the long papers that I've been putting off. If I research for them, it means I then have to actually write them. My desire is not that strong to begin research.

Still, I did get to go shopping over Spring Break! This amazing thrift store is close by, so I stopped in on my day off to browse. I don't use the word 'amazing' lightly here. Not only is the store seperated by type of garment and then size of garment, but also by color. Are you looking for a medium green blouse? Why, then, you should go to the blouse-medium-green section and take your pick! It's an OCD dream, I swear. I picked up several pieces for interviewing outfits to calm some of my panic at the idea of venturing into the Real World. I now own suit jackets. I feel so grownup.

I have made one monumentous decision aobut my future. I'm moving to Portland. The one in Oregon, if you're not like me and actually know that there's one in Maine as well. Apartment hunting has been so much easier since I realised that fact.

What am I going to do in Portland, you ask? Good question! I'm asking it too. I have no idea. Hence the panic. Which led to the suit jackets. More of a lateral move than a forward one, I suspect.

Despite almost having a degree in English, I have the nagging suspicion that there just aren't that many jobs that need me. I don't want to teach and I can't be a librarian without a master's degree, so I'm out of ideas.

Anyone need someone in Portland? Bookstore, coffee shop, ditch digger?

(Seriously, I've got skills with a shovel.)
(Well, maybe not seriously seriously, alright?)
(Unless you need a shovel-wielder, then totally seriously.)
(Seriously.)

Death and Swimming

2008-03-11T13:33:00.004-05:00

I've moved on to the biography of Dorothy Parker, What Fresh Hell is This?, which you think would be an upper after Sylvia Plath. It was at the beginning, but now I'm wading into the end of her life and it just isn't happy getting old, especially for Parker it seems. Then, eerily, I hit on the section of Margaret Atwood's thoughts about writing where she considers that all writing is an impulse to avoid a confrontation with death. Nigh simultaneously I'm drowning in death here.

Why, avoidance, do you suggest? And heartily I agree.

Which means that the book I'm touting now is Swimming to Antarctica. What's it about? Swimming to Antarctica - and across the English Channel, the Cape of Good Hope, the Nile, the Bering Strait, and various other really cold, large bodies of water. If it all sounds a bit water-logged to you, take heart! It's actually a very engaging story that doesn't obsess over swimming terminology, water conditions, or minute descriptions of boats. Plus, there's very little death involved! It also makes one very, very glad to curl up with a sweater and several blankets with a cup of hot tea, while reading about someone else plunging into thirty-two degree water.

It's almost a pity I finished it, for my tax forms showed up. Why, avoidance, you suggest? And heartily I agree...

Books... and More Books

2008-03-07T11:28:00.002-06:00

I think my period of deadness is almost over, which is good because, for all of the many benefits, zombies don't write blogposts very well.

I suppose this means I fail at Blog365, but I actually made it further than I expected, so I'll go with the feeling of triumph at making it through over a month. Hey, it's better than I did last November!

I've been reading the biography of Sylvia Plath, Bitter Fame, lately and that is not a book to read when you're feeling low down and blue, I've determined. Or when you're feeling exceptionally happy. So, you have to be sort of fair to middling to read it. Which is seriously limiting my times when I can read this book. In any case, she certainly had a life! It wasn't even a bad life, all things considered, if she had been less depressive and competitive.

I find myself incredibly mad at Ted Hughes now, however. Not because of himself or his relationship with Sylvia or anything, but because he burned the journals she wrote during the last years of her life. Burned them! The first two-thirds of the book is alive with her prose and turn of phrase and then you reach within two years of her death and everything's guesswork from there on out. Argh.

Her poetry is much clearer now, the book explains a lot of the symbols that cloud her verse because they mostly relate to events that happened in her life; her work is very autobiographical.

Anyway, if you've hung on this long, you should definitely read the book. Oh, and also you should read The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov. I've been enjoying it for my Russian lit class and it is a riot! The devil comes to Moscow for a visit and, well naturally, all hell breaks loose. Apparently, it's very popular in Russia even today. With good reason! It almost makes up for the fact that the next book on the reading list looks as though it could substitute in for a brick in a pinch. Seriously, I'm afraid of it. I might slip a disc trying to heft it up to read it.

I Was Dead

2008-03-04T18:24:00.001-06:00

... but I got better. Well, am getting better. I'm only mostly dead right now.

King Proust the Eighth (WOL)

2008-02-12T12:13:00.001-06:00

Oh, I'm working on a new idea for posting that might be really fun! Or really lame. It's a fine line. But be excited! And prepared. So you're good either way.

Question #8: What do you consider the most overrated virtue?

Really, what? Um. Chastity, I guess. Charity and moderation seem like they are more important. Not that purity of mind and goal and such is bad, just not as influential. I think. This is one strange question.

What about you?

Proust VII (WOL)

2008-02-11T12:13:00.001-06:00

Oh Mondays, how I hate thee. Not to be cliche or anything, but there is a distinct lack of breathing space on Mondays. And sleep. Oh sleep, how I miss you.

Question #7: What is your greatest extravagence?

Finally, an easy one! Books. No contest. Textbooks, fiction books, library books - my bookcase overfloweth. Literally, I'm afraid.

What about you?

And on the Sixth Day There was Proust (WOL)

2008-02-10T12:13:00.001-06:00

My favorite day of the week! Now why doesn't the questionnaire ask questions about that? I have an answer for that. Maybe that's why.

Question #6: What is the trait you most deplore in others?

What is with all the hate? Why couldn't we be asking about the traits we enjoy in others? I don't like insincerity, I have to waste time trying to figure out whether I should believe someone or not which is not the most enjoyable way to spend a conversation. Or crudeness. I don't think humor that markets to the lowest common denominator is funny on TV and I still don't think it's funny when someone tries it in person. Especially when someone in person says something from TV that they thought was hilarious. Shudder.

What about you?

5 x 1 = Proust (WOL)

2008-02-09T12:13:00.001-06:00

Did you know that some banks are not open on Saturday? Today was a learning experience.

Question #5: What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?

Well, that's a downer. I would guess that I dislike how much I procrastinate and actively avoid doing things I dislike. I would get so much more done if I would do it now, but there is so much that I would rather be doing!

What about you?

Proust 4.0 (WOL)

2008-02-08T12:13:00.002-06:00

Finally, finally Friday. Sweet, sweet Friday. Wait, I'm pretty sure I was supposed to go to class today. Um, oops?

Question #4: What living person do you most admire?

Argh, what is it with people questions?! Sigh. Well, I guess I would have to say that I admire those people who people who see injustice and try to help. The people who head out to third-world countries to do whatever they can to make people's lives a little better. Those who stay in their own country to help those who are so often ignored. I suppose that isn't really one living person - but I think I'm glad that there is more that one of this sort of person. It gives me hope.

What about you?

Proust the Third (WOL)

2008-02-07T12:13:00.000-06:00

Opened library. Brain. So tired.

Question #3: What historical figure do you most identify with?

Um, what? Well, I've always liked the poetry of the early American naturalists. Granted, I can't identify with being a wealthy male who likes to camp out in the woods for months on end - but the beauty of nature is an especial province of mine. Right, so Emerson it is. I'm going to bed now.

What about you?

Proust Part Two (WOL)

2008-02-06T12:13:00.003-06:00

Yay, I like having this questionnaire! It's cuts out all the time I spend staring at the blank page (or screen, if my internet ever worked) thinking, "Um, what did I do today? I'm pretty sure I woke up - right?"

Question #2: What is your greatest fear?

So this one is hard to answer, simply because I'm afraid of so much! People, dogs, failure, slipping on stairs and careening to an untimely death. The dogs-one is probably going to be a problem if I decide to become a mailman. Which I'm considering. Except for the whole 5-part test, it sounds like a pretty great job! I think this question got derailed, but it's still answered: Dogs! Because they might lead to failure - or my slipping on stairs.

What about you?

Proust: the Beginning (WOL)

2008-02-05T12:13:00.001-06:00

I am so thankful that next week, I only have to open the library on Thursday. 7:30am opening time is insane - as are, I believe, the people who are always waiting for it to open. 7:30? What do you possibly need from a library at 7:30 in the morning?

On a non-complainy note, I found an old Proust Questionnaire that my poetry professor gave out a few years back. I thought answering that here would be entertaining - and would prevent me from having to rack my brains for ideas for awhile!

Question 1: What is your idea of perfect happiness?

I'm always fairly happy curled up at home with a book and a hot drink. I'd probably be happier had I a certain future, so let's say curling up as aforesaid after a productive day doing something that, if not happiness-inducing, is at least not ripping my soul to shreds. Ooo, with a cat on my lap. And a blanket. Yes, very satisfying.

What about you?

Dude

2008-02-04T19:38:00.000-06:00

Conversation overheard on my lunch break:

Busboy (after distributing several sandwiches and collecting the numbers for them from the tables): Dude! (Holds up two of the laminated cards, which read '13' and '42.') The two best numbers at one time - this is so my day!

Sandwich-making-person: Yeah, dude, it's the little things, right?

I couldn't decide whether I should take heart that they were enjoying life or laugh at the copious use of the word 'dude' while doing so. I just ate my sandwich and smiled. After all, I was number '13,' maybe it is my day, too. Dude.

My Favorite Day (WOL)

2008-02-03T19:33:00.000-06:00

I think Sundays are my new official Favorite Day. I don't have to go to class or work or meetings, I can just curl up with my books, take naps, and run silly errands simply to enjoy the weather. My kettle is bubbling, the dishes are sparking, and I wish I could find a job that let me curl up at home and forget the world outside my window even exists for hours on end.

Imbolc

2008-02-02T21:07:00.000-06:00

As it is Imbolc, a holiday which I believe celebrates creativity and poetry as well, I would like to celebrate as well and share a poem - but I am far too nervous! Ah well, maybe next year I will lose my fear. In the meantime, I am going to go light my candles and write out my celebrations. Hopefully you all enjoyed this day of creativity and rebirth in whatever you turned your thoughts towards.

Snow and Stuff (WOL)

2008-02-01T21:07:00.000-06:00

Career Planning is becoming my least favorite class of all time. It's not hard or anything, it's just that I sit there for an hour three times a week and try not to visibly panic about my future. Everyday job hunting seems to grow into a bigger and bigger monster - pretty soon he's going to invade my nightmares!

But I will try to Not Panic. Try, being the operative word here.

The rain yesterday turned into sleet and then snow. The world looks like some silly fairy tripped along and threw a layer of soft whiteness over everything by accident. I'm willing to be so generous with my description now that I'm safely back in the warmth of my house. Yesterday, after I deiced my car to get groceries there were several other descriptors used that revolved more about demonic forces than fairies. It's already melting, though, and I think by this afternoon it will all be vanished and leave us wondering if we made up the wintry morning out of our under-caffeinated heads.

My parents, lovable as they always are, mailed me a package that contained a jor of my Uncle JD's popcorn and a contraption called a 'whirly-pop.' No, I am not making that up. You put the pan on the stove, add oil and corn, then attach this strange-looking torture device to the top. Once it starts popping, you turn this handle until the popping stops and - like magic! - delicious popcorn. Yum, popcorn. With salt, lots and lots of salt. It made for a very good dinner.

Yay February! Let's hope it's a good month - we even get an extra day of it!

Go Look Up Babel... Now

2008-01-31T09:43:00.001-06:00

So cold! The weather has morphed from the loving calm that sailed through the beginning of the week to this she-demon force that rails wind and rain upon us. I'm watching the weather from my desk through the side doors and I do not want to leave here to go to class. The rain is falling in a sheet at a 45 degree angle. A 45 degree sheet, I stress! I have no umbrella. Is class all that essential in the long run, I ask you? I think not. But, we're discussing Babel today in Russian. He is quite the trip - funny and morbidly depressing all at the same time. Isaac Babel, go look him up. Right now. (I can see you not moving. Shoo!) For him, I will head out into this - it's not as though I don't like rain. It's nice to wander in when it's warm and lovely to listen to at all seasons indoors - but it's cold. I don't want to walk in it, just listen to it - especially since I'm going to get dripping wet and then have to squelch through class. Sorry, this is becoming perilously close to a whine. I will close before I descend into a sulk or - horrors! - a whinge.

Chocolate... Yum (WOL)

2008-01-30T09:33:00.000-06:00

So-late. Must-keep-eyes-open... (snoozing sounds) Work and school have taken a dislike to me lately - I might need to sacrifice a chocolate cake to them this weekend to get back in their good graces. Yum, with lemon icing. No, strawberry! Well, maybe lemon... I'll get back to you on that decision. I just struggled home after my late class on Japanese literature. It went pretty well, I loved the book for this week. It's called The Broken Commandment and it's absolutely beautiful prose. He was heavily influenced by the French naturalists while he was writing it, so not only is the story captivating, you get an incredibly detailed and lovely image of the world that Segawa is moving through. For those of us without the luck to have ever been to Hokkaido, it makes you feel almost as though you have seen those mountains and valleys - and that you desperately want to return. I also learned quite a bit about the class system in Japan during the Meiji, which was fascinating all on it's own. There's my recommendation for your week: chocolate cake and The Broken Commandment - go forth and indulge!

Catsday (WOL)

2008-01-29T09:25:00.000-06:00

Today was a great day - despite even having to get up at six in the morning. After work and classes, I went out to lunch with the Best Roommate Ever (BRE) at this new Asian restaurant in town and then we went out to the Second Chance Animal Shelter and played with the kitties for a couple of hours! They're so cute and nearly all of them were lovable. There were a couple who were very, "Right, well you can talk to me, but there will be no petting - I'm not sure you're worthy." Very dignified cats, they were. Then there were several kittens who went mad when they discovered that there were new playmates and the cats who really just wanted to take over our laps and be snuggled to death. Very relaxing. I was all over fur when we left, but I definitely want to make time to go back. There are kits in need of cuddling - how can I resist?

Doors and Doors

2008-01-28T21:59:00.000-06:00

Yipes! Sorry about so many Written Off-Line posts at once, but it was quite the busy week. Well except Sunday - but I wasn't driving to campus to post blogs on my day off! I love you, but not that much.

On a completely unrealted note, I decided today that I like side doors. Front doors make you feel majestic, of course, expecially if they're ornate in some fashion. Side doors, however, seem as though they are letting you in on a secret, giving part of themseves to you as a gift. You 'enter' a front door, but you can 'slip in' through the side. Much friendlier, don't you think?

Dozy Days (WOL)

2008-01-27T21:56:00.000-06:00

Today has been a very homebody day. I didn't have to work (Hallelujah!), so I just curled up in bed with all the books I needed to read - and maybe a few I didn't, heehee - and luxuriated the day away. I still didn't get all the reading I needed to done, it piles up so fast, but I feel so much happier and relaxed. Truly books are mana for my soul. Yay Sundays!

At Dusk (WOL)

2008-01-26T21:54:00.000-06:00

The sky was perfect tonight at the very first touch of dusk. The clear blue sky with smokes of white almost-clouds gleaming proudly, as the darker fingertips of dusky-gray began to steal around the curling edges of the sky. I love the word 'dusk.' It's a very different thing than 'twilight' or 'sunset.'