Tuesday, October 20, 2009

51: Missiles

I've started a new goal- to read a poem a day. No real reason to it, just a sudden desire to bring poetry back into my life. Last night was Philip Larkin's "This was your place of birth, this daytime palace" from the North Ship.


I'm attempting to go vegan. I went back and forth on it all summer, but it's going better now that I'm back in school, for whatever reason. I feel more motivated to cook, that's for sure. And I've baked! I've make cookies! And the second time, I fiddled with the recipe and it still came out pretty awesome! This is big news for I, who's always burned Betty Crocker

Friday, August 7, 2009

50: A Weekend without the Basics

I'm sitting in the bamboo garden at the Pittsburgh Public Library, and the mere fact they have a bamboo garden is the number one reason they're the best library I've ever been to, even beating (gasp!) the NY Public Library, and the Boston Public Library. There are plenty of comfy chairs, nooks and crannies, and brightly painted walls. There are areas for teens and children that look (appropriately) like they've been designed with real teens and children in mind, not just the kind that can sit quietly and read Newbury winning books.

Plus, it doesn't feel as sacred as the NYPL, and it allows you to consume food and beverages (within reason), unlike the BPL.

Safe to say, I will be spending long portions of my weekend here, as the research study I was supposed to take part in was at capacity, so instead of spending the weekend by earning $250, and having various cremes applied to my arms, I will be instead searching out places to supplement my apartment's lack of electricity, furniture, cable, and food.

Not to mention, this whole cutting drastically down on my medication so that I have enough to get through the summer is taking its toll. I'm starting to remember what it was like before I went on medication, and I'm not enjoying it. At all.

Monday, August 3, 2009

49: End of Panera Position

I gave my two weeks notice a few days ago at Panera. It was surprisingly less painful that I thought it would be- I walked in, asked to speak to the GM, and informed him I was giving my two weeks. And that was it.

I was more than ready to list the reasons why- not the least of which is the lack of hours I’ve been given, and of course, that I’m moving back to VA. But even if those issues weren’t there, I don’t think I’d be sticking around. The people I work with are nice enough, but here, more than any other place, have I just been continually faced with downright nasty customers, and I can only imagine it getting worse when the students come back in full force.

I don’t know if this is indicative of Panera in general, or merely this shop, but I can’t stand watching the number of people who come in, take samples and leave, or fill their water bottles and McDonalds’ cups with coffee or soda and just peace. The breaking point has been this week, where I have not only been called dumb, but had someone curse at me.

I’ve been consoling myself with yogic breathing, or attempts to be zen, or reminding myself that some people weren’t raised right.

I’m starting to think that maybe it’s not other people who were raised differently, but that I was.

And that worries me.

That leads me to believe this wave of self-entitlement isn’t some bad cold that’ll fade with age and exposure to common courtesy but instead a change in acceptable behavior, one in which people no longer are only entitled to breathe but to also have what they want fall into their laps.

It worries me because there’s only so much of people I can take, and more and more life is about working with people.

Monday, June 29, 2009

48: Eye Contact

I think I'm going to go back to uploading scans and bits of my journal again. Cause what the world needs are handwriting samples and ramblings, spelling mistakes and all.

No promises that they'll ever be in order.

Or anything. Really.

Friday, June 19, 2009

47: Familial

So I just realized that Jamie Lee Curtis (especially circa Halloween) reminds me way too much of my mom, or at least the teenager I thought my mom was, plus the looks. Odd. very odd.

46: Wokring for the Weekend

So Panera is going well enough. Sure, I wear the same pair of mom khakis (HUGE crotch) and rotate one of three polos that I don't actually wash so much as spray down with toner (that's like cleaning. it has tea tree in it!), but the people seem good enough. We're a motley band of underachievers but then again, how inspired would you if worked at Panera?

I suppose the thing that bothers me the most there is not the free drinks people take, because let's face it, I do not care enough to properly charge people half the time --though I was rewarded the other by a cute man's joke:

What's a vampires favorite holiday? (cue lip biting where he thought he fucked it up)

that's right. The surest way to my heart is a nervous twitch and a corny dad joke-- or the giners digging through those too-sugary pastries we sample, but the muzak versions of songs they play. Van Morrison's "Crazy Love" does not need to become sweeter or softer. Nor "SOmwhere over the Rainbow". I'd be fine with classical. Hell, I'm fine with silence. But the shy cello and violin renditions of "Have I Told You Lately" and "Home on the MOTHERFUCKING Range" is unnecessary and annoying. I can't decided what's worse- this, or the top 40 pop I'd listen to at Dunkin Donuts.

No, that's not true. Dunkin music was much worse, if only because I can tune this music out.

But as I search for a coffee shop job, I'm realizing that music really does make the work environment for me. I mean, when I think about jobs I've loved, it's because I could play what music I wanted, within reason (Lush, Mary's Pence). When I think about jobs that I've tolerated, it's because I could listen to podcasts or something on headphones (Board of Ed filing). When I think about jobs I've hated, it's usually because of the music and not because of the people I've dealt with- thus, compare my work at the Green Leafe to Dunkin Donuts or that law firm with its softjazzyrockmiddleagepop. Ulgh. Vomit.

However, I have been on a music binge lately- satisfying cravings not only for Super Black Market Clash and the Moon is a Broken Lightbulb (Elliot Smith B Sides), but also letting in bands I don't quite know (but now love) like Starfucker. I guess that might even things out.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

45: Zdravo

I'm actually enjoying learning B/C/S. Not that I don't frequently have moments where I question what the hell I'm doing (fleeting a's? seriously? VOWELS SHOULD STAY PUT), and how useful could it ever be(genitive plural? really? REALLY?), and whether it was totally worth the 2 grand I shelled out for it (cue MASSIVE gulp and a summer of rice and beans). But every now and then, I think it's all worth it because I really enjoy writing in Cyrillic and it makes me happy to understand .5 minutes of a youtube clip in BCS.