postgraduationhaze

The" Word Of The Year " Entry
Date: 1.17.04
Climate: Ice/sleet
Eating: poached eggs
Drinking: black coffee
Feeling:
hung
over
Listening to: The Next Big Thing
Watching: --
Reading: --

Its official.
The Word of the Year:
METROSEXUAL.
...sars was apparently a close second.

Last night I drank a bottle of pinot grigio alone.
I woke up hung over. My nails were painted red. I don't recall painting them.
We didn't make it to Smartbar due to the fact that I got way too intoxicated and didn't want to budge in the cold, the shoes, and the outfit i had put on. But like I remember, I have a nasty habit of not remembering much of what I do while enjoying spirits. But instead of going out and trying to feel affinity to our young counterparts, we did other youthful things to make up for it.
I feel like crap today, much due to the fact that at six am, there was drilling above me and wiring outside my window.
Like the angry Bronx women I have seen in the movies, I opened up the window in my PJ's, yelling at them...
They were installing cable TV to the apt. above me.
I was still pissed.

He turned off the nextel phone which was BLARING some lewd story about what said cable installer and friends had done with a certain group of ladies. It was much too early for locker room talk, never mind the fact that I have never liked that "heckling did you get some" crap that stereotypes men...

I wasn't able to fall back asleep, so we drove to the Golden Apple and ate breakfast. Now I am back, in my PJ's and happy.

Its really just a day distraction from the crap I have to deal with once the "work week" (haha) resumes.

Posted by * at 2:52 PM | Permalink | Comments

The " Don't Know Until You Try " Entry
Date: 1.14.04
Climate: We missed the blizzard:)
Eating: Carrots and hummus
Drinking: Water
Feeling: Prospective
Listening to: TAL==amnesia
Watching: the OC--god I love it.
Reading: Newcity: top ten Chicagoans we love to hate...Ira made the list:( --Why cruel world, why?

So today I trained with Cindy, my new best friend at Dappers. All I can say is working here is going to be like nothing I have ever done. All of the women have at least ten years on me age wise, most chain smoke, and you should see the outfits you have to wear: stockings (or pantyhose as some call it), white socks, white shoes. White collared shirt. And this black apron like dress thing.
Hair has to be in either a ponytail or a bun at all times.
I just am laughing at this really. I don't think it will be that hard, and I don't mean to get ahead of myself but its just multi tasking, remembering things, and being attentive and nice. Since the nicer you are = the better tip, I am laying on the charm.
So the plan is this...
Once I get fully trained at Dappers, work there from six am to eleven am. Drive to the Union. Work from noon to eight at night. Repeat, M-F.
I don't really want to do either job but I can't afford to be picky any more. Sure, I may end up dead in a crack house on the South side (Sergio said a cop stopped him after he got done talking to a member in a particular house, and tried to arrest him for buying crack. Sergio said "I work for the union." The Cop: "Prove it. All the traffic I ever see is people buying drugs: this house is notorious for it.")
Great.
I may die of exhaustion before I get raped or killed: I'll have to be awake from about five until ten every day, but i need to make money and the jobs I thought I was qualified for, aka mindless office work, I apparently as we have all seen, am not.
I did get another email today for an interview on the twenty eighth. I am going but my hopes aren't high at all. I just can't take this rejection anymore, really.
And so it goes.
Tomorrow I start studying for the lsat some more. And friday is the designated "Cherie has reckless fun day"-- Eddie and I are going to Smartbar that evening, where I will proceed to drink lots of Absolut vodka on the rocks (currant or vanilla, I love them equally), dance, dress in little skirts, high heels, with lots of earrings and bracelets...pretend its 1984.
I love it.
I figure, its a last hurrah before I start this job(s).
I watched the OC tonight: I do like that show. I suppose its just another glorified depiction of the ideal American life: but you have money and lots of it. Why not? Who wants meager humble beginnings like that Dawson's Creek crap if you can have foreign cars, beautiful scenary, large houses, pools, hot tubs, gorgeous offspring and attractive married and happy couples?
Its like a part soap opera, part teen drama.
I think thats what I will from now on shoot for: riches and true family values.
...haha.

Meanwhile, I have finished a CD for my friend Rob and even did this little package for it. I will have to mail it unless I happen to see him again in the near future, but seeing as he goes to school at Marquette...yeah.
I must credit him here, as he told me the other day while we discussed politics that he believes that the "majority of things Bush does is to excite the common man. Like the war. Life on Mars."
I was pleasantly surprised. It is very true to a large extent. Now, I heard Bush wants to send more people to the Moon....between suddenly falling in love with mexican immigrants, to his obvious affair with an alien life force, this resembles even more of the whacked out shennanigans we have to deal with as Americans under our first dictator (with Congress all Republican, and a Supreme Court who ultimately put Bush the II in office, we are pretty damned close)...and if the Democrats continue with their "Good Doctor Dean" run, we will, for another four years, have to entertain his random array of bullshit further.

I want him to get working on that time machine. He'd definitely have my vote then.

Posted by * at 11:04 PM | Permalink | Comments

The" Race to the Finish " Entry
Date: 1.13.04
Climate: Deceptively sunny
Eating: Trail Mix
Drinking: Water
Feeling: See all archived entries
Listening to: these mix CDs are great
Watching: Line of Fire--I love this show.
Reading: Tomorrow I pick up more library books:)

Today I drove to Naperville and spent the afternoon with who I affectionately call U of I Brian. It was nice to catch up with him, he always makes me laugh, even though we have different senses of humor. He pointed out (after I asked) why it is that I just don't have that many friends. He looked at the fact that in my attempt to locate these so called people, that I tend to gravitate to those who have similar interests, who may not even necessarily make me feel like I feel good, am having a good time, etc. He also pointed out (again, not just because he wanted to tell me what was wrong, but because I asked. He was quite dutiful in that respect, actually, very honest) that I tend to put a cap on things that I enjoy out of "convention's" sense, or in the way I want to make sure I always have control so that things never get out of control...something to that effect.
Its true, I admit it.
He asked where the humor was in my day, week, life...I don't know. David Sedaris was in town and I missed that--I couldn't find anyone to go with really. Its like, all my friends have the desire, sorta, but no initiative. So for me to go have fun, with someone, i'd have to double my trouble to a) con someone into it and b) logistically set it up.
So I guess thats where I stand. Attempting to find sweetness and light in my life tends to get tiring to me. I just want friends who a) will be there for me b) be nice to me and c) not have any underhanded motives/feelings/intentions that I don't necessarily know about, but may clearly come out through their actions with me.

I may set up a personal ad. It'd be interesting to see what happened. Because ever since I signed up to friendster, i have been quite disappointed with the outcome. I only have three friends even though I am apparently connected to thousands, and I have but one testimonial. I just don't know what I am doing wrong.
Perhaps its because I sort of have a lot going on right now, as does everyone, but mine tends to bring more of that dark cloud with it, and it tends to stray from the garden variety of problems...and truth be told, no one wants to deal with that, or hear about it. I sometimes feel bad talking to my "real" friends.
Or maybe they're just bad at communicating...? I dont know. I'll just revert back to the "its my" conclusion.
In other news, I was supposed to go to the Double Door tonight with my friend Mat to see a couple bands. It never happened but I did get an awful lot of laundry done...once again, we see the "responsible and boring" side coming out. However, I ran out of quarters to do my laundry with, and about ten minutes ago, had to run out to my car, drive to the gas station on the corner of Western and Roosevelt (not the best area, I tell you) to get change. I was wearing shorts and one of my many boyfriend's sweatshirts that he has been so kind to let me borrow during our duration together...much more easy going than the last one with this sort of thing. I was freezing my ass off and scared. Its nearly midnight and they lock the store so you have to yell into this glass thing with a tray. And the people milling about, just loitering, kept spitting and looking at me, simultaneously. I doubt if it meant anything but it was scary. I got my change and ran. The laundry is still drying.

I start to train at Dappers tomorrow as a waitress. I can't believe its come to this.
I am trying to have a positive outlook but its hard. Waiting tables at a family restaurant wasn't what I had in mind after investing so much time in just job searching, let alone my actual education.

Also tonight, I noticed that Diane Sawyer has been doing a rash of these "inside celebritie's minds" interviews. Since when did she want to work for Entertainment Tonight? I just hate it. I don't care to see Diane Sawyer "prying" into the minds of Britney Spears, Ben and Jen, and Jennifer Aniston. And then you've got Barbara Walters interviewing that Jayson character, the NBA star who evidently killed his chauffer?
Although the war and especially its broadcast coverage tended to get a little too play by play, movie effect, ratings frenzy-esque, at least it had journalists pretending to do their job, and put our incredibly puzzling preoccupation with pop culture and the people who make it happen on hold. Now, we're just innundated with not just second rate journalism, but typically more respectable journalists paying heed to the Hollywood Hills. But maybe its a welcomed break from their war checkered journalism resume...and you know, if it makes you happy. But the day I hear Anne Garrells interviewing Chingy is the day I take my thoughts of suicide to the next level...eh, a tad overdramatic, but you catch my drift.

Posted by * at 11:43 PM | Permalink | Comments

The" Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Employment " Entry
Date: 1.12.04
Climate: Nice but only for about thirty minute intervals
Eating: nothing
Drinking: Water
Feeling: Marx
Listening to: That Beach Boys Song, God Only Knows What I'd Be Without You, changed up with the Pharcyde's Passing Me By. I don't know what it is about these two tunes and me lately...
Watching: Enemy of the State
Reading: I finished Chinese Takeout in one night, if that says anything

Today I walked for five hours around literally, literally, one of the worst neighborhoods I have ever been in.
Men yelled profane, sexually explicit comments and gestured wildly. Ew.
The houses were boarded up, wood, fence, gate, bars, and yet, people lived there. These were homes wher the lights are always off, and you had to knock twice, three times, to get a head out of a window even acknowleding you were there.
I felt scared and yet upset that this world was so foreign to me; poverty, I guess.
I was trying to get Union 880 members to register to vote. It costs nothing. But its amazing what people just won't do.
It was so cold. And it felt so desolate. Life doesn't move there, and when it does its slow, sharky, and uncertain.

I have no idea where else this job search will lead me. I did meet a nice guy named Sergio who was half Spanish/half Russian. He discussed Philosophy with me; he went to school for Film at Columbia. He was incredibly intelligent; its been awhile since I had discussed dialectic materialism on a real level. I really truly enjoyed it. I asked questions and learned so much, but what the whole day really proved was just how many of "us" there are out there, doing jobs like these, trying to find jobs where maybe a fourth of our actual intellect will be used or applied.
And the members of the union were what I had thought them to be, which saddened me more. Just people, trying to make a living, trying to make a better wage, with kids, bills, and fear; it was clear with how they secured their residence that they had seen maybe too much. But it wasn't pity that I felt, just frustration of their inability to motivate themselves to register to vote: to actually follow through with where their union member dollars go. They just, they wouldn't. Its the typical American voter or non voter in some ways. They dont' see immediate results and trust levels in politics for non politicos are low.
It was aggrivating, and I was even more aggrivated with my attitudes and in some ways, realizations of what life on the less known for its stellar coffee shops and art museum and restaurant side is all about.
I hate that some things are so predictable.
I hate that so many things are so unchangable.

The end of the day brought more discussion about philosophy, and Sergio said "you're a reformist. To this socialist party that I was a part of for a while, (and its really interesting the insults they come up with), I was a reformist. To that socialist party, it was revolutionaries that mattered."

The petit bourgeous that is now really middle management has been the largest gatekeeper that I have encountered in getting that toe hold in the workers party. And aren't I supposed to be the proletariate which over throws the bourgeous and so on and so forth?
Yet I am not a revolutionary nor an anarchist. I am that luke warm reformist and I hate it.

The people I saw today don't even necessarily know they want a revolutionary, its just the only thing that will make the changes they need.
I hate how preachy I sound, but it was quite a heady day.

Posted by * at 12:16 AM | Permalink | Comments

The" Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow " Entry
Date: 1.11.04
Climate: Spring like
Eating: --
Drinking: Water
Feeling: running out of adjectives
Listening to: mix cd's
Watching: Green Bay
Reading: Starting 100 Years of Solitude.

Well it was a better weekend in the end.
Hung out with boyfriend.
Drove my car to Skokie and back, the scenic route, to recharge my battery.
Saw a bad John Woo film but it was entertaining in that mainstream American blockbuster way.
Ate large slices of pizza. A couple times.
Talked alot. Made fun "Monkey" music mixes...
Laid around and talked about my rash of nightmares.
Lots of kissing.
Took a long walk in the spring like temperature today...indulged our vices just once (for him, its cigarettes, me, too much coffee...it could be intravenous drugs though so i'm not complaining)
Talked about marriage and goals and growing up and really, how great everything would be when we grew up.... Its funny how all those things I wanted just came about when we were together.

He's a great comfort when he's up and willing.

Again, the car did get started, thank heavens. I fear its inevitable demise, however.

I sent out ten more cover letter and resumes tonight. I really hope this week is better job wise.

I have literally two boxes of pasta, some candy canes, and a brita container filled with water left in my apartment. Thats it. I need to get my stuff to me so I can go buy food. This craving for bananna chips is unreal.
Like my friend Erick said "I haven't had those since I was five."
If I get some, maybe i'll go to his house and give him a little baggie full of them, just like when we were five. Just for old times sake...not like we even knew each other yet, but its the thought, right?

Packers lost. :(
Only six more episodes of Sex left. Today was a TV day.

Posted by * at 11:28 PM | Permalink | Comments