21 January 2004

The" Addicted to the 'Cause' " Entry
Date: 1.21.04
Climate: the calm before the storm
Eating: an apple
Drinking: water
Feeling: meh.
Listening to: yet another commercial using the optioned work of The Flaming Lips
Watching: I missed the OC damnit.
Reading: Just got You Shall Know our Velocity back;)

I am fairly certain Mat Devine of KH is a racist. Normally I would refrain from bad mouthing people like this on such a silly little community that this blog is, but at this point, its too obvious to ignore any more. And plus...he's an asshole, so why not spread more legitimate reasons why.
a) While we emailed/corresponded last year, it got down to the point where we were discussing why "Racial Profiling" is, well, bad. He didn't really agree. And I've noticed he tends to write things like "stirring Martin Luther King jr. PROPOGANDA"...I don't really know if he feels it appropriate to write such things, as though it isn't important to try to avoid an Eminem like reaction considering that they've sold jack for albums.
But thats all I will say on the matter. I wonder if his lawyer will watch him, since we all know he has a history of putting his foot in his egotistical mouth. Alright, enough of that.
Today was the third day of Union work fun. They moved me from the South to the far West side...And I don't want this to come across racist or sexist, like said "musician" but when a large black man comes tumbling down three flights of stairs, demanding to know what I want, and then telling me to follow him upstairs where the person who I am looking for (they rarely answer the door) is, its scary. Inside, I feel helpless. I am up three flights of stairs, and I can't be guaranteed they're even there. I have to go in though, since most of the people I am looking for are either disabled or are too scared to answer the door themselves, due to the nature of the environment/neighborhoods. We are actually discouraged from standing in the door...so its like, I am not doing my job, according to them, if I don't go in.
Its scary though. I really don't want to be stereotypical but I don't want to get raped. And the hours are so long, from noon to nine with no breaks...I guess they assume driving from neighborhood to neighborhood is a break or something, who knows.
Anyway, I'll be fine. I really do care about their cause, its just hard when they don't. People just don't care...and its hard to make them. Its just not that reassuring when even THEY tell me I should "be careful, cause its dark and late...and why are you out anyway?"
I am not trying to play the damsel in distress card but this is risky. I trust the union though. And I suppose I trust that the stereotypes are more damaging than me actually going into these places and doing my jobs. Its just the police cameras every two blocks that worry me, too. But its safer than the South Side, I guess.
In other news, I picked up two new library books, well, books I wanted to finish before they were due and never got around to it since my wallet had been stolen, again, and with it my library card. Oh well, they're back to me now...it gives me something to do when I get off work at nine and am wide awake while most people are getting ready to go to bed. Yech.

20 January 2004

The" Welcome to Hell, may I offer you a drink? " Entry
Date: 1.20.04
Climate: COLD like none other
Eating: ramen noodles cold
Drinking: water
Feeling: discouraged
Listening to: --
Watching: --
Reading: emails

Today I got an email back from Greg Kot saying he'd be a reference for me. I sure hope that helps, because I spent the day at my new job with SEIU 880, knocking on door after door after door in the cold, trying to get people to register to vote on the South side. The best was the 17 year old who couldn't register to vote due to said age, but did join the union, cause he is a government identified home care provider, seeing as he takes care of his twin brother, who is suffering from a gunshot wound in the chest from gang violence.
Eye opening to say the least. They had to keep pulling the couch back and forth in front of the front door as protection of some sort, and his little 12 year old sister kept imitating the gestures I made with my hair, first up then down then to the side then half up...I didn't notice right away. It was sorta sad.
Another house that Sergio and I knocked on (this is the last day I get to go out with a partner; but he was a good one, all things considered we had some fun) we heard a child screaming "mom don't hit me" loudly and crying.
Jesuschrist.

So the domestic squabbles, the rather intimidating groups of men on the street corners...the gunshot victims...and then I had to work the phone bank from 7-9. My day was union spent from noon to nine with a half hour break. Great! I missed the state of the union and was pissed; i wanted to concoct some sort of a drinking game in correlation with how many times Bush said one of his assinine phrases or made a cowboy gesture or face. Too bad.
So this is it.
Welcome to my life as a union worker. But I get healthcare after ninety days.
The plus is that with Kot as a reference, I may have a bit more weight in these job interviews...especially the editorial/writer positions I am tackling tonight. Wish me luck.
In other news, had a spectacular weekend with Eddie. I am really beginning to wonder how long we'll be this happy. Its spoiling me, really.

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