Career Dreams

I just posted a post-it note on my wall that looks as follows:

career dreams
coro fellow app
sept
this american life
internship

Where we stand with the Bang Saga:

I just got new bangs. Ocean said, "Amanda do you know your bangs are crooked? You could use a comb to straighten them out." And I said, "I don't think I have a comb." And Ocean said, "We have three combs and Ray is always wanting to get rid of one." And Jude said, "Why don't you two fight? I want to be entertained." And Ray said, "Look at that little bird." And Oshy said, "Nice subject change Ray." And O'Ryan said, "I want there to be a post-rock band that plays all of my favorite rock duet ballads." And I said, "Just you wait. Maybe it will happen." And O'Ryan said, "Maybe I could be the front man for that band." And I said, "Maybe I could be the back man. Whatever that means." And O'Ryan said, "Amanda. With bangs like that, you could do anything."

The laughing shoulders

On my way to math tutoring, I was resting at a stop light next to a small bus. A group of youngish, male ish people were crowding and laughing towards the back of the bus. One boy said something to me out the window that sounded like, "You dropped your *******?" I looked down and around at the word "dropped" before realizing that the boy had told me I had dropped my "pocket." When I looked back up, the talker was not meeting my face, but the other boys were. I started to smile and laugh, and then I began laughing real dramatically with my shoulders so they would know that we were sharing it and that we were on the same side.

I'm remembering my other out the bus window experiences. One time I was walking Klemmons the Dog and a kid yelled out, "What kind of dog is that!?" And I said, "Hmmmdaknow?" And he said, "Whose dog is that?!" And I said, "Bret's!"

I think the people on the inside know that they are mostly untouchable because the light is gonna turn green and they will never see me again. Same for people in cars. There was one bad day in Lawrenceville where I got two negative hits right after the other, one being a smallish angryish 8 year old giving me the finger with a very straight face.

I smiled and waved.

The worst bus story I know is when my mom was puke sick on the delivery route and she had to puke out the van door, and the bus kids were all pointing and laughing at her. It didn't seem fair. She had no strength to retaliate. She was sick like 1 time every 5 years, and it just had to be a day she was next to the bus.

Where I'm At

Recovering from a doubters fall into "this can never be possible." I always believed we were going to win. And then this happened, and this happened, and I am clawing myself back up conversation by conversation.

O'Fries is in the kitchen talking about wheatpasting, and I'm telling him the story of Ben going to the DMV where the kid found out who his Dad was from his birth certificate reprint. Yeah. He was in the office, and he called his mom and said, "Mom. This is (insert his full name). Who the hell is (insert newly discovered dad's name here)?" And it was funny because some guy in the line overheard him and said, "Oh yeah. I know that guy. He's my neighbor." And, "you look just like him."

Excuse me for a moment Bret is calling. He's choking out words cause Saundra's nephew just got shot and that makes two loves within the past few months. He asks, "How does she keep going?"

I have a suspicion and I write it to Emily in a letter. No one laughs at god in a war.

O'Fries is out, and I'm looking for an excuse to smoke a cigarette, which I fear is suicidal because they are fixing the gas line up the street. I start thinking about Sherman Alexie and The Absolutely True Diary of a part time Indian and how the 14 year old character who lives on the Spokane Indian Reservation has attended 42 funerals. Can you feel the difference?

I can only win when everyone is valuable and right now the numbers are not adding up. Queens please rise. I need to hear you laugh and say you are well.

The Singing Bridge

Yesterday I was walking to work with a bag containing 1 small cake and one 50' roll of 5/8" backer rod and I thought, "ah yes, this is my life."

How do you Like me NOW?

Today I was thinking of many things. One thing, was the relationship between drivers and cyclists. Things like, how that relationship is informed and how it grows or deteriorates.

Today I took this little one way street and came out on this bigger street, and when I came out on that street, there was a line of cars waiting for the red light. So I kind of maneuvered around the butt of this car and pulled up behind it, and I noticed that the person's sunglasses were sitting on the roof of his car. So I sidled his window and made a knocking motion, trying not to startle or threaten, and I said, "Are these your glassses sir?" And he responded, "Oh Thank You."

I think he knew I had found them on the roof. But I am wondering if his relationship as a driver to a cyclist has now changed.

Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Today I worked at the library as a substitute, meaning I only go there for one day. I was shelving some books on CD and was having a hard time moving things around because there were these little metal shelves sticking up every 1 foot. What it looks like, is, instead of one long shelf it was a long shelf divided into 8 or so little cubby shelves. It was not good for moving things or sorting things easily.

I asked Anna how she felt about it and she said,"awful." Tony chimed in with, "Me and Chris took them off as soon as we opened up, and then we were told we had to put them back up."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Someone got paid to put them into the shelves so we have to leave them up."

And I said, "But that doesn't make any sense."

And he said, "I talked to Mary and she said we can't move them."

And I said, "So you can't move them because someone was paid money to put them in?."

And he said, "Yep. I hate them. And you have to go through four people in order to make a decision."

"BUT THAT DOESN"T MAKE ANY SENSE!" I said.

So what this translates to me is: There are people working at a place. And when they are working there, they interact with the things. They start to come to realizations about functioning ways to interact with the things. They find that when they interact with the things, some things are easy to do, and align with body and environmental needs, and some things are just confusing. And then there is this outside thing, usually a group of people who ally themselves with the identity of DoGooder that is saying, "well we made this decision, so we will go with it. Despite all the real life evidence that it is no good, and that it does not serve a purpose that is a real purpose, we will stick with it." And then the people working at the place exist in crises mode for days and weeks and even years, because they aren't meant to function in the environments they are forced to function, in but they can find no alternative that meets their needs.

Once again, the day was ruined by beauracracy, capitalism, and its fantastically heavy hand.

It's the end of the world as we know it.