Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Everyone should interview with a governmental agency just once.
First off, I had to take a typing test and score at least 60 wpm. 60. 6 – 0. That’s a word a second! Riiiiight. But I figured I’d give it a shot and I was curious to know what my typing speed was anyway.
I tested and it turns out… I’m a moderate typer.
62 words per minute.
Thank you BLOGGER. Without you and my addiction to over-sharing, I’d be nothing.
Before going to sleep last night, I picked out my perfect ‘interview outfit’ – in my head. But you know how that goes… it only looks cute in your head. So I scrambled to find something else… anything else. I ended up finding an outfit in my dirty clothes hamper. Sure I smell and I’m wrinkled, but I look decent.
I'm just lucky I beat Chris home tonight. Our room looks like the closet barfed and I’ve got to clean it up.
I was worried about turning into a tomato for the interview so I literally spackled my face with foundation this morning. If I’m going to turn into a tomato, I might as well hide it behind ½” of cover-up. My greatest fear was that it was going to slide off halfway through the interview and pool in a pasty white puddle on the table – fortunately it didn’t.
Unfortunately it didn’t slide to my neck or chest either… you know, the other parts of my body that like to turn a special shade of ‘oh crap, is that a sunburn? Or do you suffer from severe Rosacea on your chest?’ My dirty clothes hamper shirt didn’t cover it that well.
Despite my tomato like appearance, I’d like to think I came off calm, cool, and collected… if you plugged your ears. When I get nervous, I develop a stutter.
The first part of the test was a written exam. I was required to correct a sample letter and create a letter to a prospective donor. The sample letter was so filled with errors, I almost begged to re-write it to save time (and no, I obviously don't use those editing skills on this BLOG. Sorry.). The letter to the prospective donor didn’t have a page limit.
Perhaps it should have.
Four pages later….
Then came the interview. One person right? Ha ha ha ha ha ha.
‘Alright Rebekah, please come this way. The committee is ready for you.’
I walk into the conference room to meet my death *cough* I mean, to interview and the first thing they did was offer me water. Why are all interviewers fascinated with hydration? The last interviewer kept asking if I wanted water too.
Or wait… was that a test?
So that’s why I didn’t get the last job. I didn’t look hydrated.
Look people. I have frizzy hair. I NEVER look hydrated.
The interview went fine. I think I even assembled a logical sentence or two. Then the guy says, ‘if you pass this interview, we’ll call you for a second interview where you will meet with additional committee members.’
More people to interview me?
Maybe it was the look of sheer fear that flashed in my eyes or the Rosacea like redness across my chest but…
I’m not crossing my fingers for a call back.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Friday night Zach, Beth, Casey, Mike, Chris, and I hung out at our house. Zach decided to throw a ‘quick dinner’ together for us.
Let’s clarify - my idea of a ‘quick dinner’ is Mac and Cheese.
Zach’s idea of a ‘quick dinner’ is a Morton’s steak, a Caesar salad, and Rosemary red potatoes with peppers perfectly crisped in the oven.
Needless to say, I won’t be offering to make Zach food, quick or otherwise, for a long, long, long time. Also needless to say, we begged him to move in when Ryan moves out next month.
Saturday I was still feeling under the weather with the stupid stomach flu. I was so sick, I turned down an opportunity to go to SeaWorld! Maybe the world is coming to an end. But, I wanted to save up my energy for the party we were throwing for Mike Saturday night. He is no longer a probationary firefighter!!
I decided to make chocolate soufflé’s for the party. Nothing matches Jack Daniels BBQ hamburgers, Louisiana hot links, or chili cheese nachos better than a hoity toity dessert. Why settle for cake mix when you can stress over a dessert that deflates if you so much as sneeze?
I was going to make a fresh raspberry lemon sauce but quickly decided that my energy level was barely at ‘functional’ and definitely not at ‘over the top ridiculous’. I ran down to the corner store to pick up some sort of stand in berry topping and settled for strawberry goo.
Nothing says ‘fancy’ like Nestlé. Particularly the bunny ears on the bottle.
I also grabbed two boxes of Ding Dongs. If all failed with the soufflé’s, I could cut up the ding dongs, sprinkle on some powdered sugar, dab them with ice cream, and call it homemade.
The night went really well. The food was fabulous and *gasp* the soufflé’s were textbook perfect.
Geez! Somethings just work out.
Friday, April 25, 2008
I knew things were severe when I drove to Taco Bell for dinner last night and nothing looked good.
My home planet?
Didn’t look good??!??!!
To make matters worse (and bring out the total hypochondriac in me), San Diego is having an outbreak of Hepatitis A apparently stemming from a Chipotle Restaurant in La Mesa.
Hepatitis A symptoms are:
Fatigue, Fever, Abdominal pain, Nausea, Diarrhea, Appetite loss, Depression, Jaundice, Sharp abdominal pains, and Weight loss
I don’t have all the symptoms but I have my fingers crossed about the last one.
OK, so technically I didn’t go to that Chipotle in the timeframe everyone contracted the disease but hubby darling did and we all know he’s a carrier monkey.
And yes, technically there is a stomach flu going around.
And yes, technically I personally know and was in contact with someone who has the stomach flu but…
What good is my hypochondria if not used?!?
I talked to Colegate last night and she thinks I have the stomach flu. When I said I haven’t been able to eat for the last few days, she asked if I wouldn’t mind coming over and sharing the flu bug with her.
She’s hoping to lose 5 pounds.
Which brings me to today’s Flashback Friday…
Our sister Paul-The lived in Australia for a couple years and was a member of a band that traveled the world. On one of their tours, she traveled to India. By the time she returned to Australia, she had lost weight. She ate all she wanted but for the life of her, couldn’t keep any weight on.
It turned out, she had contracted an intestinal worm. Sure she was ‘sick’ and the worm was labeled as ‘dangerous’ or whatever, but easy weight loss??!! Colegate and I practically tripped over each other running for the phone to book a flight to New Delhi.
After a month or so, Paula was finally able to get rid of the worm with some sort of weird intense diet but Cole and I were mad.
She was lucky enough to get an intestinal worm and she killed it?!?!?
What was she thinking?!!???!?!
So Cole. I hear flights to India are cheap now. Wanna go?
Thursday, April 24, 2008
1. Step out your front door and take a picture.
2. Step out your back door and take a picture.
3. Put them on your blog, along with the rules.
4. If there are things in the photos that you particularly like or dislike, you can point them out, or just explain what we are seeing. Maybe changes over the seasons or some junk in your neighbor's yard that drives you nuts.
5. Tag as many or few people as you like - preferably at least one though.
6. Do it again next month if you like.
We are still in the process of building our retaining wall (hence all the dirt) and when I apologized to our neighbor for being the 'ugliest house on the street' he snickered and pointed to the house directly outside my front door. 'At least it isn't pink!' he laughed.
Yeah. My house is DEFINITELY NOT PINK.
Our yard isn't great but I love our view of the city.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Job interviewing feels like dating and like I’m running around behind my current boyfriend’s back.
‘Sorry job, you have leukemia and rather than wait until you die, I’d like to start seeing other people. It’s not you, it’s me. Oh, and I continually leave my number at dive bars like Monster.com. Hope you don’t mind.’
And, just like in relationships, I get all gussied up for the new job. Current job gets the t-shirt, jeans, un-showered me while the new job gets version 2.0 including freshly shaved legs and perfume.
The sad part is, I really like my ‘boyfriend’…he just has to get over his bout with a terminal disease.
Only time will tell. ‘Boyfriend’/Job has been given a 4 – 8 week timeline.
Meanwhile, Chris has been dealing with ‘Bad Mood Bekah’.
Example: Last night I came home from class and slammed the front door shut. I threw my fists up in the air and said, ‘OK hon, I’m going in the kitchen to make myself garlic bread for dinner. I’m going to wash it down with a frozen ding dong and a Pepsi. You got a problem with that?!?!’
A few seconds later I storm back in the living room and say, ‘AND, I’m going to watch Judge Judy. Take your tiny little butt and go watch your stupid ESPN crap on the little TV.’
Statements like that could have resulted in a fight but Chris has a difficult time taking me seriously, especially when I just returned from school and am wearing a chef’s hat with checkered pants and plastic shoes.
He just says, ‘OOOoooook’ and literally ladles it with sarcasm then starts laughing while turning up ESPN.
Good thing I have an industrial supply of Ding Dongs. I could pretty much take on the world with a chilled Ding Dong or two.
Well... Ding Dongs and that theme song from Robin Hood.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Saturday we went to the only free place in San Diego… Seaworld. Shocker huh? Same old same old except this time I fell off the manatee. Turns out, six girls on a manatee are too many. You’ll see the picture of all of us on the manate… then the next picture only has a few girls. Everyone was trying to help me up! Now I have a lovely bruise on my bum. Oh well. It was a good weekend. ; )
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
After dinner we had a hankering to play Taboo and asked mom if she owned it. She disappeared upstairs and a few minutes later we heard a loud thump in the room directly above us.
All conversation stopped.
Casey asked what the thump was and Mike, ever so caringly responded, ‘Mom probably fell.’
‘Aren’t you going to check on her?!?!’ Casey asked.
‘Eh. If she doesn’t come downstairs in 5 minutes or so, I’ll go check’ he said with a sideways smile.
It reminds me of the time when mom reached into the fridge to grab a bite of cantaloupe and it lodged sideways in her throat. Not wanting to see ‘Cause of Death: Cantaloupe’ on her death certificate, she signaled to Paula, who had just entered the kitchen. She made the ‘I’m choking’ gesture with her hands to her throat and assumed Paula would save her. Instead, Paula overlooked her, walked around her, reached in the open refrigerator, grabbed some food, and walked out. Mom had to eventually perform the Heimlich maneuver on herself.
Paula swears she didn’t notice – we still aren’t sure if mom ever forgave her.
I pretty sure my mother doesn’t fear dying and going unnoticed for weeks, I think she fears dying in the presence of her ‘thoughtful’ and ‘attentive’ children and who don’t detect she has expired until the timer runs out during her turn for Taboo.
Officer: ‘When was the last time you noticed your mother alive?’
Us Kids: ‘Three turns ago while we were playing hand and foot… or er uh… I think she was alive then. Did we skip her turn guys?’
OK, so we aren’t THAT unaware. We did notice when she eventually came back downstairs…
We were trying to light a piece of wood on fire on the dining room table and we heard her say...
‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY CHAIR?!?!?!?’
She was totally OK by the way… but her chair… uh…
Not so much.
Love you mom.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Friday, April 11, 2008
Rather than give the impression that I am a mature, confident young woman, I came off more like a challenged 5 year old.
When he asked me to tell him a little about myself I SHOULD have said, ‘I’m hard working, I love a challenge, I am a team player, and I believe that everyone should be treated with kindness.’
Instead, I think I said……..
‘I love the color purple and red, I love bright shiny objects, I love butterflies in the summer, I love birthday cake, and I want world peace.’
I might as well have brought in some Barbie dolls and asked him to play.
No fear, it gets worse.
In Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, Violet turns into a blueberry. Her lips turn blue, her body turns blue, her fingers turn blue… you get it.
When I get nervous, I flush red. If I actually had a tan, you wouldn’t notice but remember one thing…
The Clinique makeup counter turned me away because they didn’t have a shade white enough for my skin.
Flushing red is PAINFULLY obvious on my pale skin.
Violet turns into a blueberry and I turn into a tomato. Maybe I’ll join a circus.
‘Laaaaadies and Gentleman, please welcome to the stage – THE HUMAN TOMATOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!’
Think it can’t get worse? Just wait…
I’m talking about the town I grew up in and he tells me he knows a guy from there.
‘Mr. So and So? I know him! He’s a really nice guy!’ I say, thinking we’d found some common ground.
‘Mr. So and So sued me.’ He said.
‘Oh.’ I say quietly. ‘Uhhh….’
Thursday, April 10, 2008
In the middle walkway of our mall, kiosks sell everything from cell phones to t-shirts. As I’m walking from store to store, inhaling the new clothing smell, a guy starts yelling at me, ‘Mam! Come try this lotion!’
‘No thanks’ I say with a smile and keep walking – yeah right, like I’m going to stop for a guy who calls me ‘Mam’.
‘Can I just ask you a question?’ He yelled – and the yelling wasn’t necessary since I was 8 feet away.
‘No thanks’ I say while continuing my stride.
‘It’s just ONE question!’ He yelled louder as people started to look – though I’m sure they were just thankful he wasn’t yelling at them.
Wanting so badly to yell back, ‘Look buddy, I’m not interested in you frickin’ lotiony crap. I don’t care about the anti-aging/anti-cellulite/anti-wrinkle/firming/magic garbage you’re selling! I have skinny arms and I can hide my fat butt under a skirt so I don’t need you! Would you just let a girl shop!?!?!’ but instead said a polite but simple, ‘No thanks.’
Come on, I should get a medal for my restraint.
‘JESUS!’ he screamed as he slammed down the lotion – and he wasn’t calling out the name to honor the Lord if you know what I mean.
I stopped dead in my tracks and started to turn toward him but decided against it.
I have an interview today and I’ve heard black eyes followed by stories that start with ‘look, it wasn’t my fault…’ aren’t exactly ‘job magnets’.
Lucky little lotion man.
Monday, April 7, 2008
My sister-in-law, who is… uh…I don’t exactly know how old she is…I guess I should know that huh? I’m pretty sure she’s in elementary school…or middle school… or maybe she’s a very little high schooler?
ANYWAY, she texted me and said, ‘Sister, I have a huge problem and I need your help!’
Thinking her problem was going to be something simple like, the theory of relativity or the fundamentals of rocket science, I texted back, ‘Hit me with it. I’ll help you out.’
Let’s overlook the fact that took me 15 minutes to type that out on my tiny ant sized cell phone buttons.
She replied, ‘I’m in love with a boy and I think he likes me but he has a girlfriend. Should I tell him that she’s weird and he should go out with me instead?’
I LOVE texting. She can’t here the fish noises my mouth is making from going ‘Uhhhhh. Umm. Well. How in heaven’s name should I know?!?!’
So I did what any normal inexperienced big sister would do…
I posted her question on an iVillage.com message board.
You think I should have come up with my own answer?
I don’t think the statement that first popped into my head, “Girlfriends are just speed bumps darling. Slow down but definitely don’t stop” would have been totally appropriate 'big sister' mentoring.
So I took the top 15 responses (Geez, don’t these people have anything better to do than answer message boards? Get a life! You’re almost as bad as those people who BLOG about their personal lives!! Wait a minute…) and came up with…
‘Well sweetie, I think you should wait it out. If he really likes you, he’ll come to you. And if he doesn’t, don’t worry! I know that one day, you’ll find a guy who loves you as much as I do – and I love you a lot.’
That sounds almost like the beginnings of a Lifetime movie.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
My Top 5 Reasons Why Working for Peanuts is Totally and Completely Awesome
#1) For once in my life, I’m not all that concerned about a purse snatching. The days of cold hard cash in my wallet are long gone. If a thief can profit off my wallet containing only a Costco card, a snotty tissue, and a pair of tweezers… more power to him.
#2) Chris and I get to try ‘experimental’ cuisine!
The old me used to take grocery lists to the store with items like: Chicken, fresh herbs, fruit, green salad…
Now my list reads: Anything on sale.
If anyone knows a good recipe for pigs intestine, Safeway brand peanut butter, and Ragu pasta sauce, please pass it my way.
Oh, and we have Ramen Noodles. Lots and lots of Ramen Noodles.
#3) When solicitors come to my door peddling everything from magazine subscriptions to pest control, I can say, ‘We can’t afford it at this time’ and for the first time, it isn’t a bold faced lie.
I would say, ‘When solicitors call our phone…’ but I’m not exactly sure how long we’ll have a phone so…
#4) I finally have a sense of value. I value everything I have worked for….
And I think about how much I could get for it on EBay.
If Chris comes home tonight and all the furniture is gone…
I didn’t auction it off, we were robbed. Or at least, that’s my story.
#5) Chris and I are forming a tighter bond in our marriage. No, we aren’t ‘holding on to each other during these trying times’ or whatever romantic notion you have, we simply have to cancel our 749 channels of HD cable and drop it to the 2 channels receivable by bunny ears. Since neither of us are fans of the Public Broadcasting Telethon nor the 50,000th re-run of Everybody Loves Raymond, we are forced to…
After 15 seconds of that garbage, we warm up the Nintendo and shoot the crud out of each other in Contra.
Bonding I tell you, Bonding.
Hmm. Maybe this optimism thing isn’t so bad.