Assaulted from every angle....

I had a bite to appear in person for a job. Got clean, got curled, got frustrated.

This will be repeated on the Daily Klyee, but different verbage. Here.... we can just say are you fucking serious??? In no way was this propped, I 100 percent caught this bitch enjoying my toilet paper when she damn well knows my intestinal routine. I came out to leave and she was sitting there just like that, as though it was normal.

After failing another job attempt, I return to find Kylee with yet another piece of contraband, a member of the herd in her mouth. Oh-no-she-didn't! Yes, yes she certainly did. She stole and ate a hand crafted two foot herd member and chose to do so at the worst possible time. Frustrated from the job not working out, had I been caught, it would have been a crazy woman swinging a giraffe by it's neck like a weapon. She bolted cartoon style as this was the first swatting of her brown life. I screamed that the next time she so much as looked at a spot, she'd be SEEING them.

Being pretty upset over things that seem trivial, I almost cancelled my canvasing. I went. It took one day (about two hours) of my walking campaign to end with a limp and a whimper. I stepped on a nail. No, I stomped onto a nail. The moment my back decided to stop torturing me, it let the foot know to go ahead with Plan B and start trouble. Plan B apparently was to secretly construct a super power foot magnet and lead my foot towards the nail like a missle launched by Cheney to punish me for daring to not conform.

Mr. Morgan thought I was being a baby or otherwise whining about inconsequencial shit until he saw the blood and vanished with a poof of dust. Sometimes I want to toss him into an emergency room with a second timer taking bets on how quickly he'll faint or vomit. Kylee took her station beside me with a very serious expression, and determination to be of service should her name be called. Either that, or she was baffling and thinking "what the fuck did you do THIS time?" But attentive she was, and eager to lick the blood and make sure Mama's foot got a nice dose of whatever she'd just licked from her crotch. Thanks baby girl.

I got home with my clipboard and my notes, gear...... nail. My decision not to return to headquarters was based simply on the fact that I hadn't finished my route. I was told no different. Around 9pm my phone lit up by the frantic organizer of home base.

"We need that clipboard, now. Can you please come down?"
"No. I'm in my bed clothes."
"We really need it so that we can calculate our counts."
"I'm not holding it hostage, promise, I can be there in the morning."

Stepped on a nail AND managed to ruin their daily counts. I am a menace!

I returned the damn thing after doing errands - which included all the normal things people do at 9am, gasoline, ciggarettes, and a jot to the liquor store - which looks extra special when a person is limping. Yes, please sell alcohol to the lady who looks like one leg is already full of it. I mentioned my misfortune to the cashier and he said "Why did you do that?" Even I had no sort of response, smart ass or clever.

After returning the golden clipboard the organizer who ha called rolled into the parking lot. I beat him to the punch woo! He wanted to chat me up, for a bit too long and being stupid, I took little notice. I was there to work, it was a simple interraogation. This hit me after I made a series of two mistakes. He had given me his personal card to call if I came into trouble whilst walking... I got bored so hit his website later that day. This begins the first of massive stupidity that any person would readilly recognise.

He asked about the clipboard and I said it was in good hands with a nice woman inside. That way. /pointing. He asked for more work, I said I wasn't quite a walker with a nail wound and damn if he didn't have something to substitute.

I mentioned the nail and he went overly concerned. Still didn't did hit me that I was being eyeballed, I presumed him reacting so strongly was an attempt to feel out if I felt litigious. I AM totally oblivious. He then mentioned that a group of California folks were coming in tommorow, would I come? I immediately said EW! It was a knee jerk reply. Don't bus them in for fuck's sake, Nevada has enough Cali bullshit. Then I remembered his bis card stated he is from San Fran. DOH #1.

Trying to stray from insulting his home state with clear disgust, I mentioned that I'd gone to his website and asked if the photography was his. Landscapes, nothing tawdry. DOH #2 was when I said that he had more hair then, and I'd noticed. Ugh.

Again, I totally presumed this was chit-chat and for our mutual cause when time got all Matrix style and it occured to me that he was subtly trying to hit on me, while I was obviously wearing a not so subtle wedding ring. I've been married too long to notice when I'm being hit on, and quite dig who I married so it didn't occur to me at all until a flash bulb lit in my head and I thought "oh shit!" and the last few days of conversing with him was most definitely a shy way of him flirting.

The foot seems better today and my weekend isn't half bad thus far. Mr. Morgan will bring me epoxy to fix the Raffe, although quite a few pieces were consumed, or made into carpet toothpicks.

-DM

Serenity Now

I am feeling a bit uplifted today, enough to remind you of these guys. As in the first video I offered of them, I am most definitely that little bitching/backtalking dinosaur and Mr. Morgan would be the rex. He would likely even contest that I sound exactly like that wee one, and I wouldn't have much to argue with, even down to the point of having to be smacked to get moving. (hit refresh if need)



Yesterday, while I sat drawing a chart of how much I am dragging society into fucked, "pretty much by way of being a Democrat. A lazy one right, that's our agenda.... pay our way and think for us. One of those has already been handled on the current administration and it's not the paycheck. Ahem!

The phone rang, I presumed it was Mr. Morgan's best friend to further aggrevate a very bored person by saying "I'm a McCain Man!" It's really unwise to agitate the unemployed and bored with enough pent up energy to melt a building with a single flicker of eye movement.

I answered, and it wasn't him, it was a friendly! Would I like to volunteer for the campaign. Sorry, I'm really busy. Um, YES! - squared!!! At first I thought, oh my god they picked ME!" feeling my chest swell with pride and accomplishment when the bummer side of my brain whose sole purpose is to remind me that I'm not so great spoke up. It said:

"Duh.... dude, they'll take a bag of oranges if it's willing to call people or peddle flyers."
"Thanks, way to ruin my moment of something, anything happening."
"Just sayin..."

I went today and was dismissed within a half hour because the teams had been dispatched and the phones were all handled. The last campaign I volunteered at was Gore and I don't know if he had more budget or if Obama is cheap, it was rather skinny. Gore had rows of phones not unlike the seating of a college course, and Obama had one row of maybe 7 phones. When I walked in, reporting for duty, as it is, a man with a super big head and small body (still a friendly!) sat eating soup and averting eye contact. I've done that "Ignore it, it will go away" manouver many times. He waved me in and I went behind his table and sat next to him as though I were in charge of whatever that desk was there for. I had questions and wanted to sit! I did note that while people were bothering other people after a long day of work, he was sucking on that soup happilly. Evening phone calls made me uncomfortable in 2000, but I would have done it. Don't want to overkill though and piss off a voter because records are repeats and it's the fifth person to call from the headquarters. That did happen in 2000. Trepidation abounds!


He said they were full up, but could I be willing to walk flyers and knock on doors. I actually preferred this route of convincing a vote. I began my questions, more prepared this election than the faltering lamb I was in 2000. I remember being chased off with a newspaper by a man in a robe just for putting a door hanger on the handle of his screen. I flee with intense speed when a crazy republican gives chase.

"What time?"
"4:30"
"That's kinda early..." on election day we all left at 6am, so I presumed it was am. It was not and I looked an idiot without having explained WHY I thought am.

At this time a man strolled by and was stopped by soup haver. "We got a walker here."

The man beamed and took on a posture that ... (and hey, maybe I'm wrong, but I'd take a bet of setting my dog on fire if I am, I'm that certain), leaned a bit towards the enjoyment of fellows. Not friendlies, fellows. He stopped, looked at me and said "Oh.. my.. god! I will totally go with you!" I replied that I was Team Recruit DM, happy to be of service. "Door knocking is my favorite, it'll be be so so so much fun!" How could anyone help but beam back.

I asked if our route would be to McCain people and they said no, thankfully, because I'm not trying to die. I'll hopefully post photos and alike on my travels tomorrow. If anything, I feel somewhat productive today and it does mean a lot to me, and should to everyone.

I got home only a half hour later, called Mr. Morgan and he said "Jesus, you got fired from a volunteer service????" /blink.

- DM

ps - WTF about cancelling a debate because they didn't get their way??? "I'll take my toys and go home!" Good take em!

Bone please?

First off, thanks to those who commented on my last entry. And a hearty "I should kill you" to BLD for sending "Jesus is my Friend!" That damn song won't leave my brain but nevertheless you all are that is keeping me sane. No work leads a person hitting the fast lane of being a shut in quicker than NASA can launch a shuttle, and much like NASA.... it's entirely possible that the subject might just explode into tiny pieces that litter the world with pessimism of no good days to come.

I should not be this way, but am in a funk that I'm sure smells personality wise as much as it does from my pores. Shower? What is this thing you speak of? Wet... oh goodness, don't play, I couldn't possibly consider such.

I have had three bites today. Not leads, which is the mopey pacing of the house hoping to somehow impress someone, but actual bites, meaning I'm either appealing - or employers can sniff the desparation in the air. I picture a group of them in a room, the caller with feet up on his desk while everyone drools with anticipation of him fucking with me, no intention of offering employment. "Sssshhhhh it's ringing!" Hands from the gigglers clamp over their giggly mouths just waiting for me to be let down. That, or they know I'm lame enough to accept an offer that wouldn't pay for my lunch. Either way, there is some cosmic joke on me. I half want to accept one of those jobs just to hear them falter and say "really????" But that hasn't happened either.

Friends, it is a sad, sad world when people even with mad qualifications can't get a job. This is where we are now. I'd recommend smiling at your boss. Like... a bunch, even if you hate him or her. I can't get into politics much, and don't need to, I am pretty sure we know where I stand on it, but I don't appreciate being the best that I've ever been in my career - and no, being a desk jockey isn't rocket science but I am very good at it and at the high end of it. Some would say different, but ahem... can only work with what is given. Anyhow, I will say one thing on politics.... Palin GO AWAY. Not into the dirt, but shut your hypocritical craw and quit hiding under your appearance (which isn't THAT great btw) and realize, we all know you do, that you were picked to scoop the Hillary or woman voter remnance. Those who are impressed are middle aged men and the wives they influence. I'd rest my case, but the facts do it for me.

So! I have appointments set up. Meager at best. I meet at the Legislature ... in like FOREVER, and went on something today. It rather rivals tossing salad (ya you read that right) to get dressed up just to see a checklist and a person deciding how not to hire you. Deflating.

Case in point, I took a series of 5 tests today to see how my skills measured up. I doubt anyone would contest that I rock the living shit out of computers. These fuckers sent me tests in.... Vista. I saw it and I cannot explain the expression on my face except to say that I had to leave the room and come back to check if I had seen proper, head tilted sideways almost 90 degrees. I will be polite when I respond to the job-tester-sender, but I have every intention of saying that when I proclaimed proficiency in Office software I did not mean Vista, and no one should EVER mean Vista. I'm not adverse to new programs, I can figure anything out, but not on a test where you are one click from a pop up that says "WRONG STUPID!!"

I knew all the answers, but couldn't find them. I run mostly on keyboard commands, these were not an option. It was all point and click, like the entire world is two years old. I suppose that annoyed me and I lost points for using the commands that obviously were programmed to be used. Again, cosmic hatred.

At the joint I went to today, I thought was an actual job, but turned out to be an employment aency, there was only one gal there and she was extremely bothered. Everyone is bothered, so afterward I came home to beat the dogs and tell them to stop being so fucking happy.

No one else was there, so either no one was biting or no one was hiring. Hm. I was about half through the papers, even though I had a fresh crisp resume, when she stood up and announced she could no longer stand the song on the radio. Trying to make light I agreed, saying it was rather redundant, it had a lot of ah-ah-ah -ah to the beat of an Ozzy song. She went to the stereo but the channel wouldn't change. Whatever was wrong with her was transgressed on the stereo and she smacked it around until she ultimately jerked it's wiring from the wall, smoothed her hair back and smiled, returning to her station. I've never quite seen electronics slapped up that way since Office Space. I guess it had it coming.

I just kept writing on the forms, I saw nothing officer.

That's all for now, wish me well on any bites. I have shiney new paper to print on, stopped at the store since I'd pryed my ass from this chair, figured may as well. Will update the Kylee blog soon, moral of the day - never let your dog swim naked.

-DM

Three Rings! (worth it)

I’m laughing a deep belly chuckle right now at my spanish lessons and deciding to pause and drum up an update. My first laugh was a few disks ago when they were insisting on telling me how to say “I don’t speak english” and the one that has me most recently entertained to the point of almost blowing soda out my nose “I’m going to pay.” You can guess how fast I made a dismissive gesture to not learn that one. I half thought it was a joke. I don’t say that in english – (hablo engles!) let alone another tongue. Not to imply I won’t treat someone, ahem… when I can, but I just don’t flop my wallet on the table and offer dinero! Plus I don’t carry a wallet, wallets are for organized folks who have shit to put in it.

So! I went to the unemployment meeting, interview, random whatever they called it in the letter. All I saw was – and highlighted no less – if you don’t show up, no money. Punctuality is my name! I had all my papers in order, printouts of job searches…. I all but needed a briefcase for all the shit I was hauling inside. Let’s not forget that I am still hiding a back injury. Any trepidation melted when I walked in and saw the crowd I was up against.

I have never felt so normal in comparison to the circus of watching that room and it’s almost human inhabitants. Just a normal room with a lot of chairs and the background noise of phones and general work. Let's think about them in detail.

One man had on no pants. He was not naked, but I know boxer shorts when I see them regardless if they are decorated with photos of Homer Simpson. That man was one false move from flopping his junk onto the seat next to him, conveniently providing a nice place to lean onto. Did I consider getting my camera to document what was just beginning? You tell me. I did not get the camera. I sat there, the only person not chewing bubble gum loudly, with my hair combed and nicely dressed, legs crossed and the best posture I could manage.

After a long internal monologue about the man with no pants I looked around some more and a giggle hit me that I could not control. How on this planet was I there with those people, then going into laughter that confirmed to everyone else I might BE one of those people.

Behind me was a woman, looking rather homeless with all her wares in plastic bags around her feet, sleeping. Upright, but sleeping. I think she came in to get out of the heat and I was eyeballing to see if there was an empty cart outside waiting for her to return. At least she was keeping to herself, because the next man that came in had no intention of such.

He walked in, stout of stature wearing some shirt that indicated he might have worked for that construction company about 20 years ago as the shirt really just wanted to die. It was faded, stretched to it’s limits, and worn by this man who walked with a cocky swagger. Again, a giggle rose in my throat prepared to unleash. Not just because of his shirt but because before he opened his mouth both the male receptionist and I knew he felt he was there to be justified about something.

I’d gotten to understand the receptionist during my wait time, he is a simple person and doesn’t care. Easy enough. He also chews gum like the rest of the gnawing waiters. Whatever your problem is, it’s not his. Not to say he was rude, not at all, his responses were simply mechanical and it's not his peragotive to be involved in the issues of other people.

So when faded shirt walked in getting all demanding and pissy about having to sign in, the receptionist – go figure – continued his saga of not caring. He barely looked up from his monitor and asked why the man was there. The giggle rose further up and I was so close I could taste it. I was glad I’d chosen a seat up front to watch all these comings and goings.

Mister slammed his fists onto the reception bar and screamed “For shits and giggles!” One mention of the word giggle and it was all over for me. The receptionist resumed giving a fuck and asked him what he really wanted, still not even so much as a glitch of moving his eyes from his computer screen. I was all but coiled in my chair and almost needed to walk outside and scream that I’d gone to hell. We all know I adore observations, but this was overload… as faded shirt continued to be agitated. He wanted to see…. I don’t remember, probably a Jeff but would not say why. This was a required element. In all my years of guarding the door of various employers, you have to tell me why. The only other option is sending a paper airplane past me and hoping it lands in the right place. That’s just how it works. And I will bite an ankle and be drug to prove I tried to stop the insistent caller. He then declared to the gum chomping receptionist that he was offended to be asked why he was there “Do you know where you work? What the fuck do you think I want? Get Jeff… now!” Oh my. The clerk didn’t seem in a rush to ring Jeff because remember, he doesn’t care and deals with assholes like that all day.

Shirt paced the room with hands on his hips, exploring the conference area and nodding then and again as though he was deciding if it was up to code or if his crack was wearing off. Homeless lady stirred, and half naked man maintained not flashing a penis. I only highlight these few people, trust me in that it was packed solid and busier than the post office at Christmas.

I went in, it was fine, as I knew it would be since my records were impeccable and I was wearing clothes and not verbally assaulting the staff. My case worker answered calls the whole time and I sat, just….sitting. Gave me enough time to spot all her desk wares and I damn near re-arranged her station during all the interruptions. She had a blow fish. Mm-hm! Totally dead crystallized in a state of being pissed, as it was fully in the angry blowfish state. I pointed it out and she was very happy about it, telling me it’s whole story. Her son gave it to her when he was seven because it reminded him of her.

“You remind your son of a prickly fish who blows up?”
Laugh “Yes.”
“Can I hold it?”
“Sure.”

I sat holding (I named it Harold after the angry shirt guy…. We ALL knew his name quickly) on my lap throughout the entire whatever it was and begrudgingly gave it back when I was set loose. I think she was happy to have a pleasant person in her chair and kept me longer than needed. At one point she couldn't find a entry point for one skill and called in people, much to my not knowing. Harold and I were having a discourse and I looked up to find two people literally two inches from my sitting person, peering over me.

"Whoa, Hi team!" I exclaimed. It was magic, they just appeared, and close enough to pick my pockets or tell me which brand of toothpaste I use. They did laugh though. And should have, jesus... give a girl some room!

Really baffles me that anyone would walk into unemployment with an attitude. Not judging, these folks are in the same place I am (except homeless restee, to a degree) but sheesh, be nice maybe instead of wanting to get rid of you fast, they’ll find a good lead. We're all desparate, fake a smile. Just a thought. Cheers my friends.

-DM

Broken Particles

We didn't go to Mr. Morgan's Sr. retirement party. Mr. Morgan has something that has kept him on the pot for a few days and didn't want to risk another "wave" while sitting at a table. He took the dogs for a walk and a rush hit him so hard he literally thought he would mess himself. I almost laughed because we've all had that moment literally hearing our ass cheeks clamp and a pause in time to think "oh my god.... this isn't good."

For fun something is very wrong with my back and hips and I have nothing to account for it. I haven't lifted or done anything to warrant such pain. I've even been taking Motrin - the horror- so that should say alone that I'm am in serious hurt. It's like a pinched nerve and it makes my legs buckle, damn near pulling me to a fall. Also my right hip is audibly heard popping when I walk, that is the one that was the most dislocated on my fun breach birth, and the one I was told would eventually get arthritis or otherwise be a smart ass. Why now hip, why? I don't know what, if anything to do. Mr. Morgan says to rest a lot and that almost everyone throws out their back for the smallest of reasons and one just has to wait it out. He's the best, and could have just said to suck it up.

I think my step mother in law put a hex on me! Of interest, you'd be fucking amazed at the shit you find when hunched over and not able to stand upright. So far I'm up 2 hair bobs, one spider, and a nickel.

I went on an interview today, here in my town and it went very well. I know they liked me a whole lot but I turned white when they asked if I would perform the summersault I promised on my resume. Of course they were jesting but with hiding my back injury, my thoughts instantly said Oh shit! I'm doing my best to hide it, but I'm also terribly bloated so I look like a pregnant wobble-fest, or a workers' comp claim. I LOVE first impressions! Not terribly worried as I can honestly explain that this is not my normal condition, I have plenty of established ones that I can own up to, but severe back pain is not a constant.

The man, which was seated when I arrived surprised me greatly when I left by being about 4 inches shorter than myself. Oh my god, it's an Oompa Loompa! I clock in at 5'4 and 105 pounds, it gave me quite the mental snort without meaning anything unkind, it simply just wasn't what I'd anticipated when he rose to his feet. I think he knows the skills to appear longer as I know the skills to hide my hand uglies. I can appreciate that. He knows he's short and I know I am rapidly deforming, so maybe we both tried to fool each other.

Simon is stalking me in worry..... like he's Lassie and could get help if I fell? He can't even speak English and would likely turn himself in circles to try and communicate "Mama down!" Hex I tell you, HEXED!

I'm not used to back pain and it's more of a pinched something or other, I have to meet with unemployment tomorrow and am going to try and rest as much as I can so I don't look disabled. I am very hopeful for the position, and more hopeful that it meets my financial needs. I got a letter from unemplyment today with the reasons for bing fired and they more than made me raise a brow. Not appreciated after so many years of work, not a single sick day in two years, and arrving early every day for a damned long time. The truth should have been listed, because I know exactly why I am sitting here begging for quarters. Some of you do too.

Wish me luck gang!

-DM

If I had a Hammer....

Much as I dangle my line, not even a tadpole seems to have interest. Unemployment Department is making me write nothing short of essays to remind myself how unwanted I am, which is much appreciated. I so love salt on an open wound.

As promised here is the precursor to the .... laughing.....

puppy, on the day of my garage sale.

I know it looks a bit puny. How much can I fit onto 3 tables? Mr. Morgan got off his ass and began to bring things out, making note that my ware offerings were less than enough to make a car stop. I was even waving at cars who drove by to try and lure them. Click to enlarge ... everything is .. sigh still here like a sad case of herpes that can be hidden but eventually has to go.

Gratuitous Metro cameo. We know how the rest went.

Laugh now .... I'm going to laugh too, very soon my little brown button.

And here is me in my stupid glasses that don't work for fuck. Not the best photo, or hair. I need to go back and send the glasses for inspection, when on my eyes do not coordinate whatsoever and I think that if caught at the right moment, one eye is looking somewhere that the other is not.

I want to extend a thank you to Charter Communications, not for their service but for the luck I've gotten lately in having to call and getting someone who speaks my language. Mr. Morgan, recall in the past went on Defcon - Million! last time he phoned because it was routed to India. This is a normally reasonable man. My last two calls, while I shouldn't have to call so often for repair, have been great. Lees has a 10 year german shepherd, and John was just waiting to go home, he lives in West Virginia with a girlfriend he doesn't really like anymore. Both were very nice over this last week and I fear my boredom has gone to chatting up anyone who will engage me. I kinda got the impression that they felt the same.

-DM