23 October 2003

And they hired a lawyer.
but she's keeping my stuff "on file"
in case of something awful, like if the entire world of lawyers is depleted so they are forced to call me, a lawyer-in-training.

So I keep faxing the resumes...faxing, faxing, faxing.

its two am and I am awake, still
I need more late night friends to go out with, ones that don't have jobs like me so they spend time on frivolous ventures such as this one.

However, good news on the job front: an interview as a political writer for a local political change organization...anything is better at this point than more espresso work...anything.

22 October 2003

"A five week adult education course consists of exactly five lectures with a different lecture given each week. No lecture is given more than onece. Each lecture is delivered by a different speaker. The following conditions are true about the speakers and their lectures:
Each speaker lectures on a philosopher in whom he or she specializes.
No two speakers lecture on the same philosopher.
The first week's speaker specializes in Kant, Locke, and Mill, and no other philosophers.
The second week's speaker specializes in Kant, Locke, Mill, and Nietzsche, and no other philosophers.
The third week's and fourth week's spekaers each specialize in Mill and Nietzsche, and no other philosophers.
The fifth week's speakers specializes in Nietzsche, Ockham, and Plato and no other philosophers."

That was the information for the following questions:

Which one of the folloing statements could be true?
a) The first speaker lectures on MIll
b) The second speaker lectures on Mill.
c) The second speaker lectures on Nietzsche
d) The fifth speaker lectures on Nietzsche
e)The fifth speaker lectures on Ockham

What is the maximum possible number of different schedules for the five lectures in which those philosophers who are discussed are discussed in alphabetical order?
a) 2
b) 3
c) 4
d) 5
e) 6

Which one of the following, if known, would allow one to determine the entire lecture schedule and identifiy for each week the philosopher who is lectured on that week?
a) the weeks that Kant, Locke, and Mill are lectured on.
b) the weeks that Kant, Mill, and Nietzsche are lectured on.
c) the weeks that Kant, Mill, and Ockham are lectured on.
d) the weeks that mIll, Nietzsche, and Ockham are lectured on.
e) the weeks that Mill, Nietzsche, and Plato are lectured on.

Assume that, of the six philosophers, Katn and Nietzsche are the only German philosophers, and Locke, Mill and Ockham are the only British philosophers. Each of the following statements could be true EXCEPT:
a) the first and fourth speakers lecture on British philosophers
b)the first and fourth speakers lecture on German philosophers
c) the second and third speakers lecture on British philosophers
d) the third and fourth speakers lecture on German philosophers
e) the fourth and fifth speakers lecture on British philosophers

Suppose that the third speaker were a specialation not only in Mill and Nietzsche but also in Sartre. If all of the other conditions remained the same, then each of the following could be true EXCEPT"
a) Mill is lectured on in the first lecture and Nietzsche in the fourth
b) Mill is lectured on in the second lecture and Nietzsche in the third
c) Mill is lectured on in the second lecture and Nietzsche in the fourth
d) Mill is lectured on in the fourth lecture and Nietzsche in the fifth
e) Nietzsche is lectured on in the second lecture and Mill in the fourth."

GO ON TO THE NEXT PAGE

---> yeah, logic...the section that makes you think that you have none.
Everything else I feel I did fine on, but this last section was a doozy. I tried to just ignore the blatant tricks they were implementing (the each speaker lectures on a philosopher in whom he or she specializes seemed irrelevant to the questions) but I mean, I got done early with every other section, and this one, I didn't even finish the final stanza of questions. It was like drawing pictures frantically in the dots.
This Kaplan thing better work...
so friends, try your hand.
I know people like, ahem, Brian will probably get this (math majors...) but the rest of us poli sci./english/comm people may have some trouble.
If not, i'm just slow...i mean, "special"

http://onewaytrain.blogspot.com

we're all connected, in one way or another....

Pump #11 at the suburban road ranger station can kiss my ass.
It leaked all over my right hand, and then wasn't pumping correctly. It took me 10 minutes to pump 3 dollars worth of gas.
And then the attendant just gave me a bunch wet naps to clean up the gas smell.
In case wet naps are foreign to you, they're these tiny little disenfectant bathroom smelling squares packaged in little aluminum things, decorated horribly.
This one had American flags, of course.
Anyway, the point is my right hand smells like gas and boy have I scrubbed.

I got back to the apartment I am staying at, and my friend, Will, seems to have an adversity to how much like "a woman" it smells.
the gas smell is helping fight that, so I guess all things do happen for a reason...

I told my friend Erick about it, and, well, this is what he said--->

Me:Wow, my hand smells like gas.
Erick: "What gas smell?"
Me: (and then I told him precisely what is written above)
Erick: "Oh, ok, I thought your car had exploded or something"
Me: I wish, then maybe I would get a new one
Erick: "Thats what happens if yours blows up, it's like winning a contest"
Me: Erick, I laugh often when we talk of winning contests and blowing up cars*
Erick: "Just like Jay-Z."

This kid is hysterical, we're going to be great roomates.

Tomorrow begins my day of an official WBEZ pledge drive volunteer .... They say they're taking any level of donation but my piddly amount seems shameless.
So to compensate, i'm going to volunteer, and most likely, after seeing the hard work of this oh so important part of my life, i'll donate whatever I can...
because I don't want to let Ira Glass down.
And, I mean...thats what its really about.

I bet they'd love to hear me say THAT on the phone to those who call in....i have got to work on my sales pitch.

I set up a message board. Its linked under Forum.
Its strange but you know, this is the all comprehensive site, wink wink.

I actually got the chance to go to one of the world series play off games between the Marlins and the Cubs...a friend of mine who works for NPR in DC is a native chicagoan, so this was how I described the mania which ensued Wrigleyville, where I live currently...
:::
12 CAPS vans
12 CAPS horse trailers
all on Irving Park road...leaving Wrigleyville. Like a line of militia ready to attack.

Chicago worries far too much. From where I sit, on Clark street, the lack of riots is a downright embarrasment.
Whatever happened to the father/son US Cellular duo? Where are they when you need to stir up trouble?
Just kidding, I know peaceful fans are, you know, the classy Cubs fans...right.
:::

Its funny how no one seems to care about baseball anymore--is there a series going on?
Its oh so quiet, shh. shhh.

Earlier this summer, I lost my boyfriend...haha, lost, and then I put up posters on telephone polls with his face and in crayon wrote "LOST, responds to the name ____, if found, please call_____, VERY IMPORTANT, IS LIKE A PART OF MY FAMILY" I felt very pathetic and sad for a bit, so the wallowing was at nauseous volumes..
So I wrote a long and dwindling email to someone, and the dialogue is below:

"sorry to read about your heartbreak///
strangly it's no sign of stagnation that you feel similar to how you once did at 13. it's one of those timeless threats, if you're willing to gamble.i do minimal vocal warm ups.. mostly problem solving before shows.. relieved when it's pulled off.
havent heard the band PGMG yet but will look into it
hang on\\"

Oh yeah. Have read a bunch of great articles on hydrogen economies.
The concept that this critic and futurist (eh, don’t know how much of
that I buy into though) wrote recently that, as a modern
civilization, how much trouble we’re getting in when we reach the
point of having to spend more and more of not just our energy sources
but our energy reserves in the simple preservation of our complex
social arrangements, whilst the returns are on a continual decline.
It’s the “downslide of the Oil Age.” Shocking.

So pretty much in just a terrible mood if you couldn’t tell.
Fatalistic articles, fatalistic outlook on getting out of my early
20’s alive, yeah, doing just fine today. (except, and here’s what
always follows this type of thing: remorse. I feel awful for being so
self -involved. I should resign myself to a higher calling and lose
the self- importance that whole diatribe lent itself to. I guess
that, in some ways, negates that 13 year old feeling I had
yesterday...13 year olds by in large are only capable I think of
self- importance, they only know so little and that so little usually
only involves themselves...Einstein actually had a theory about
adolscence and how you scientifically do “know it all” to an extent
in comparison to the mind and knowledge expanding with age or
something, its all relative. Anyway. It’s a strange oxymoron as of
late I suppose with me).

So when we got back together, I needed some advice...

"advice?
sounds like you've got it made. if he was infatuated before, just
wait til
you approach him with your apology and invitation to walk and smoke
downtown
some school night when you both should be sleeping"


Lately I have been thinking about the female to male
brain//conscious//growth-->competitiveness. How women are still
somewhat stifiled in their ability to act out their aggression and
competitive nature not due to something Innately in them, but due to
the fact that they aren't allowed to manifest their physical
competitive nature in the same ways as boys (think athletes I
suppose), and so they often generate this "group think" of
catty competitveness, something males don't ever full get--even the
most "gay" of my male friends--because their growth and
development, as dictated by modern society, hasn't infringed on
that...but if you ask any female, they'll completley know what you
are talking about...i don't know. I guess I am way out there.
I think alot of it has to do with that I am so bored and idle from
graduating academia that I am clinging to theory or conceptual
aspects of society and running with it, regardless of whether it
sticks or not.

I am so bored.--this is what happens when you're used to going 110mph no stopping and then halt-graduation-time to "find yourself" or some bullshit like that, when really, you're just forced to recollect whatever critical and theoretical thinking tactics you have remaining, and adapt them to things like, well, the aforementioned thought process.
goodness.

:::Bureaucrats strike again:::
Part two of the wallet debacle.

---->
I love my parents. Sometimes, even when it seems like they want me to
do this living on my own, out of their state even, grow up and use
the skills we harnessed into you and take over the world type of
thing--like they're throwing me to the wolves...
but I told them about the bandits who took my goods and so my mother,
the ever caring woman and perpetual mother as though I am 9, sent me
some money and some ID crap I had at home, to verify my name and age
and what not. She sent it "express mail" and so after two
days, i assumed that it was coming. Who really relies on the postal
service anymore, anyway?
Of course I don't really know when my mail is delivered and its not
like I would really sit and wait anyway, but when I got home the
other evening, sure enough, there was a little notice saying that
they'd "missed me"
Along with the check marks and scribbled handwriting, there was at
least three different times of day written. They were all fairly
indiscriminate.
One, I assumed, was the time I could pick it up, one maybe when the
express mail placed closed, and one where the carrier may stop by
again.
I decided to take the initiative after taking some time off to use my
last day off and walk my tail down to one of the more illustrious of
our governmental offices.

My mother had told me that the package was marked "express"
and "fragile" and it was in a large white parcel, as though
the mail in Chicago was all stored in one massive space so otherwise
useless description would be absolutely essential, to weed through
all the parcels in this neverland of postage.

That wasn't the case. When I went into the building, situated right
by Gramaphone and that McDonalds, and apparently going to be across
from a new Best Buy (heavens), I didn't know what to expect.
I can, however, tell you who I didn't expect:
This woman named Laisha.

Large doesn't even begin to describe not just her physical state but
her emotional demeanor as well.
I handed her the slip, content on knowing that if I just kept
smiling, well, maybe i'd get the softer side of an open from
8:30am-12:30pm operation.
The first thing she says is (grunting/sighting)="this ain't
here."

I just stood there, opened mouthed, and asked her, where it
was...if.not.at.the.locale.stamped.like20timesontheminisculepieceofpaper!

She just stared at me, pushed the slip back, and hollerer at her
counterpart, a skinnier version of Laisha.

She went on to say with oh so much sass that she doesn't know why it
says that this place is open until 12:30, "cause we done close
at 12noon."
Skinny nodded in agreement.

WEll, seeing as it was 10am, I didn't know why that was relevant but
I knew at this point that i had to pick my battles carefully.

She points to one of the many times scribbled on this tiny slip of
brown paper and says "you were supposed to come at 930. The
carrier has it now, and I don't know when they be's gettin' to
it."

Dismissed.

Just then, a young urban professional, aka UrbanAlphaMale, walks in
with his coach key chain or something and demands to know where his
mail is. A mother walks in with the same inquiry and Laisha just ain'
t havin' any of it.

"Well, it TAKES up to 14 days and I bet you didn't even fill out
that change ofa ddress form now did you?"
The woman says no, the man, yes, and actually, he did that two weeks
prior to even moving.

Stumped, she comes back to me, standing off to the side, as I am
trying to figure out how to stake out my building and yet still
function within the day, to get this package in my little mitts.

She says, "hm. WEll. I SUPPOSE I could go check to see if the
carrier is still here..."

She trails off and commands Skinny to go back and check...there was
no way she was moving from that swivel chair which also doubled as a
thrown.
She then prepares to get into a verbal frenzy with UrbanAlphaMale.

I wanted to put some wagers on who was going to throw the first punch
when I hear Skinny, or whom I assume is Skinny, holler and begin to
laugh from the mysterious back room (where all packages really are,
we all know this) and...she walks out and says
"Look what has happened to this..."
Shes like kicking it out the door.

And apparently it's mine.

Its all wrinkled and somehow four times as small as it is supposed to
be, as it was apparently shrink wrapped for time travel, even though
it was only shipped across states.

I just stared. All I and Urbanalphamale one could see was the big red
letters reading "FRAGILE" across it. Just laughing at us in
the irony of it all.

I just stared. Laisha begins to laugh as well, a laugh that is twice
the size of Skinny, and the Urbanalphamale says, and this is
not a lie: (exaggerates sigh, looks Laisha in the eye, and takes off
his sunglasses, finally):

"You know, I bet you could file suit for that."


And the world continues to make sense again.

from earlier this summer...but its not like much has changed, save the amount of time the sun is out.
--
Today I read an article, which was actually printed on a Wednesday,
about, well, I think the precise title was “Fighting the unemployment
blues.” It was in that nice front page they do to disguise the ugly
reality, which is seeped into all of the classifieds. Anyway, I took
about three minutes to read it, to determine if, in fact, this person
knew what they were talking about.
They did not. Clearly.
Who does this person think they are? Obviously they themselves have
a job, even if it is writing fluff articles, really giving those who
are on the edge of suicidal hopelessness and despair, a cute little
cover letter to the bleak ads on the inside…and I mean, they have no
right telling me or anyone else who’s facing the, what did they call
it? “Unemployment blues” what to feel or fight when I am sitting,
reading an otherwise horrible article, an article that even contains
lines such as “But each rejection bring you one step closer to a job
offer.” You have got to be kidding me.

The classifieds, like WomanNews and Cars, were usually parts of the
paper that I immediately threw away when I opened it, and now, its
like I’m a crazed dog when I get the paper, I can’t open it fast
enough…

Like many of the conspiracies that so many Americans prescribe to,
this one rang true today: media one dimension… all of the major media
outlets reported the same old crap with the same old spin that day,
all circling around unemployment in one way or another… Marketplace
declared that the unemployment rate had dropped to the lowest it had
been in almost a year from 6.4 to 6.2…but that many workers “gave up
looking for a job so they just aren’t counted.”

I wondered if that was a joke. It sure sounded like a joke.

This was another quote: “Since WWII, the democrats believe
that the US is headed down its worse jobless rate since Hoover.”

Hoover!

And then they cut to President Bush, the second, talking
about how “this administration is one that cares about lives.” That
odd transition wasn’t NPR’s fault (it never is, remember, I’m a
public radio groupie), but Bush’s mistake, or the underwriters who
write all of Bush’s stuff, probably Yale graduates, but it’s like, he
seems to have a way of fucking up even the most basic of things: i.e.
reading a speech and memorizing key line and then seeing if they
actually make sense. Just the other day, he was trying to speak, with
an emphasis on “trying,” in fact, trying probably to be candid and
extemporaneous, about the state of the US and how it “misconstrued”
things with Iraq and the war we just HAD to wage, and he is even
quoted, and I kid you not, even quoted as saying “Muhummoud
whatever.”
Whatever! He actually said “whatever” as a way to tell the public
that he had no idea how to pronounce this terrorist’s, who really
allowed for the dovetail into the war, how to pronounce his last
name.

And it just gets you to think, you know, I mean, who is
running this country?

At least the lackluster employment, however, hasn’t stopped
consumers, which Marketplace attributed to the fact that the people
just haven’t stopped buying, no matter what the status of the
economy.
Who are these people? Wait, why do I ask such, such lackadaisical
questions: they’re my neighbors, recall the Lincoln Park status and I
swear to God I have seen a new mini, at least one a week, appear
outside my brownstone. Because, I mean, the companies that make the
Hummer and the Mini are currently the only automotive companies that
have been turning a profit. In my mind, this just feeds what I have
been saying all along: who are you really without a novelty car? I
have almost stopped buying toilet paper to just scrimp and save to
get my fare for the el, let alone buying for buying’s sake.
And then I looked closer at the actual statistic of the statement and
began to wonder, really, what part of that made sense? I mean, where
is this money that they are using to buy stuff to stop the economy
from going to hell, completely, coming from? The logic moves in
circles.

Its almost too much at times.

I began to question what exactly this meant for me, the exact
demographic which is out of a job right now, or a “real” job as I
like to call it.
As of two months, two months precisely, since I graduated, I have
been offered several coffee shop jobs, and the manager, when offering
me the job, said that he was looking for someone “just like me, with
tons of experience.”
I began to wonder if he knew that my “experience” wasn’t so much in
espresso…as arsty and innovative and indie as that may sound, but
really, that kind of experience is just plain embarrassing: a slap in
the face. I also am hosting on the weekends at a local restaurant.
Hosting pays pretty much nothing but it’s the first step to getting a
serving job, which is where they say the money is at.
I just wrote that, “where the money is at.” I mean really here. After
four years of college and accelerated attempts at boosting my resume,
networking, and studying, I am writing phrases like “where the money
is at.” And, I mean, really meaning that. It, I mean, its scary
stuff.

In response, someone wrote me back saying in part,
"thats funny as hell.
i remember george carlin once saying 'baby's are just like adults.
95% of
them are complete idiots' "

My wallet was stolen this past summer. Here's a sampling of the fun that ensued when I was enroute to getting my goods back to mine...

When trying to recover articles from a stolen wallet, there are a
couple of things to always keep in mind:

1. Stay calm in front of the bureaucrats.
Okay, just one thing I guess.

Today I was standing in a line that literally looked like it was
going to wrap around the building, to replace my license, and then,
as I get up to the front, finally, after playing mental games with
myself, usually threats of some kind(like "I would kill for this
right now, or ... "this is going to kill me..."etc.)I
reached an actual person, but of course, it couldn't go smoothly.
There was a distraction.

Someone who works there brought in a baby.

Now, I like babies as much as the next person, but I mean, this is
ridiculous. Its like we've all never seen one.
And then they had to talk to the mother, and talk about how they felt
that "mothering agreed with her."

At this point my pulse quickens and I find myself a little annoyed
but am trying to guise it as pleasant but hurried anticipation to,
indeed, file the paperwork, get the license, and so on and so forth.
Its been nearly 30 minutes for crying out loud.

Because you can't just stop and groan about a baby being in the room,
you have to, you know, be gracious...and talk in that voice, you
know, the baby voice.

And its really kinda maddening because I just wanted to get another
license since everything that says "I am Me" was
taken...along with my phone. This actually happened a few days ago
but you know, over the weekend, when everything is closed. How lucky
I was to snag such timing.

So I said, very nicely (or i'd like to think), "um, i'm sorry to
have to be the person to say this, but I am kinda in a
hurry...?"
And the woman just looks at me, raises her eyebrows, and says
"next in line."

Next in line?

I was shocked!
She told me she didn't want to deal with my "attitude"..and
you can only imagine her attitude as she said that.

I just stood there, shocked. The next person gladly came and took my
spot, and I guess I can't say I blame them, because when you enter
that building its like you become a wolf out for blood, but
seriously!

Luckily the woman next to her, yet another bureaucrat, but one that
maybe had gotten some the night prior, or was just feeling Christmas
in her heart, told her that she "couldn't just do that" and
helped me out.

After that long, I would hope so.

Jesuschrist. If its not the heat making people crazy its government
jobs. Makes me hate that pack of thieves that stole my shit even
more.

Seeing things right now, kinda as:
***
the dream”

000
“you

---That was a post card I saw once, and it was something I included in one of many emails that I have sent to someone who will remain identity-less. But I figured it was a good start to what will most likely become a steady stream of consciousness a la the internet, as of today.
Welcome--

Now commence : the ever-so-enlightening blog which will include the trials and journey's of one individual, who braves the world with only a feeble undergraduate degree of Political Science/English writing degree under her belt. Along with a two page resume, tag along as she feels the encouraging breeze of door after door after door slam in her face, and witness as she, along with seventeen other hopefuls, begins the incredibly essential, albeit staggeringly overpriced, Kaplan course, which will prepare her for the December sixth LSAT...and of course, there will be plenty of melodrama and cynical wisdom that is of course a completely inappropriate characteristic for someone of her stature to profess, which she hopes will keep you all coming back and back and back...to see what happens to our hero next* Stay tuned.

Archives