I have an interview at 10:30 tomorrow morning. I want this job so bad it hurts. It might make up for me failing my classes right now and that unwritten short story sitting open on my desktop that was due 17 hours ago... Or at least it will be something fun to do this summer.
Collecting writing samples and figuring out what to wear. I'm way too emotional to sleep.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Adventures in Gardening: Episode 1
I’ve always wanted a garden. There are tons of baby and kiddo photos of me in the garden with my mom or grandma, pulling weeds or helping plant new annuals. My mother has always had beautifully landscaped flowerbeds as well as happy potted plants scattered around the house and porch. In college, I attempted to keep a sad little plant alive, but alas, houseplants apparently don’t enjoy living atop a radiator. Needless to say, I’m afraid a green thumb is not a hereditary genetic trait.
Living in the house in north Seattle last summer, there was plenty of sunlight and a backyard. I never really gardened outside there, but I had an aloe plant and a lava rock plant with beautiful crimson flowers. They looked so nice on the window seat next to my red beta fish, Henry, who was NOT happy on the bench. Henry used to be happy, but I think he became a sufferer of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder after moving from Park City to Seattle in a plastic cup in the cup holder of a Jeep with me. The natural light and quiet, open surroundings probably just added to the shock; his previous home had been on a shelf in my subterranean basement room. The lights were always low and he loved to dance to either gangster rap or old punk albums that thudded from my sound system. We lived the hard, secret life of crazy recluses. Normalcy must have just sent him over edge. I always knew he had an eating disorder… but he just stopped eating altogether and ended up killing himself. We went through a lot together, Henry. I hope you’ve found a better place.
So I had these two plants, along with three little cacti that I couldn’t kill if I tried. Well, maybe. But anyways, I moved the gang to a studio apartment. I love it, especially because it’s cheap. Unfortunately, part of the reason it’s so cheap is because it gets almost no sunlight. My windows are on the south side of building, which looks out at the building next door. At least there’s ivy on the opposing wall. And on the ground below, there are some more ivy and a bunch of ferns. So it’s not as bad as it could be, I guess. The dumpsters could be there instead.
The indoor jungle arranged by the only source of natural light. You’d have no idea from looking out my window that it’s actually a bright and sunny afternoon today.
So with little to no sunlight, my lava plant, though still alive, has stopped blooming. It just looks like a bizarre space ship the floated down and landed on my table. You can see it in the photo above, the second plant from the left, along with the three tiny cacti on the windowsill above it.
The aloe… oh aloe. I have aloe because I have an extraordinary knack for burning myself (coming soon: Adventures in Baking!). Aloe comes in handy for that, so I had it on my kitchen counter. Well… it never got any sunlight and I watered it too much, so it just started getting really sad and limp. I moved it to the exterior windowsill and it just got burned by the morning sun.
Now inside and on a diet of no water. It actually looks a lot better here than it did before… hopefully the improvement continues.
So those are the veterans. Recently, craving more usefulness in my garden, I purchased a rosemary plant and a lavender plant from Whole Foods. They were both small herbs, so I put them in the same blue pot I had. Just like a couple of old ladies, Lavender’s overbearing character soon overtook Rosemary’s mild temperament. Rosemary died back while Lavender flourished. Today, I replanted Rosemary in her own can and rearranged Lavender in her blue pot.
Look at that… so smug that she got her way.
Hopefully Rosemary will take to her new solo arrangement. Also pictured: ficus clippings. Every tree starts small!
About a month ago I took clippings, with the help of my coworker, from a couple of houseplants at Cloud City Coffee, where I work. The two ficus clippings sat in a jelly jar of water since then and sprouted roots! Today I moved them each to their own can. It will be interesting to see how this goes, as I’ve no experience with clippings.
The other plant I took clippings from is still in its jelly jar. It’s sort of getting roots- or at least it has little nubbies forming at the joints of the stems. Bella (my coworker) told me it is called a pathos plant and is a great houseplant as it doesn’t need much light and is easy to take clippings of.
pathos: n. a quality that evokes pity or sadness. Yeah, that seems about right….
There’s one more little friend, by far the standout survivor of the bunch. After the accident, my friend, Amzeah, gave me an orange Gerbera daisy. It came in one of those little supermarket plastic pots with foil around it and looked like it was just ITCHING it get out, so I planted it in a much larger can and have been keeping it out in the sun. Look how happy it is. It also has plenty of new buds forming, so it should keep blooming, if only the weather would warm up a little bit.
I should note that I didn’t have more than the yellow and blue pots, and I don’t have a lot of money, so I just started collecting metal cans from my kitchen and at work. The big one the Gerbera daisy now lives in used to be filled with either corn or salsa. And the ficus cans were sweetened condensed milk. I just use a knife and a hammer (I didn’t have a nail big enough) to poke 5-10 holes in the bottom, depending on the size. Then I fill it with about an inch of washed gravel from Ace Hardware. This allows water to drain from the can without losing soil. The plants are much happier, and it’s a good way to recycle cans. I was thinking of decorating them, but I think I like the look as it is for now.
Whew! That was quite the post, but for the first post of what should be an ongoing project, I think it all came out very well. Thanks for sticking with me! I’ll continue to write about my little urban plant collection as it grows and develops.
Living in the house in north Seattle last summer, there was plenty of sunlight and a backyard. I never really gardened outside there, but I had an aloe plant and a lava rock plant with beautiful crimson flowers. They looked so nice on the window seat next to my red beta fish, Henry, who was NOT happy on the bench. Henry used to be happy, but I think he became a sufferer of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder after moving from Park City to Seattle in a plastic cup in the cup holder of a Jeep with me. The natural light and quiet, open surroundings probably just added to the shock; his previous home had been on a shelf in my subterranean basement room. The lights were always low and he loved to dance to either gangster rap or old punk albums that thudded from my sound system. We lived the hard, secret life of crazy recluses. Normalcy must have just sent him over edge. I always knew he had an eating disorder… but he just stopped eating altogether and ended up killing himself. We went through a lot together, Henry. I hope you’ve found a better place.
So I had these two plants, along with three little cacti that I couldn’t kill if I tried. Well, maybe. But anyways, I moved the gang to a studio apartment. I love it, especially because it’s cheap. Unfortunately, part of the reason it’s so cheap is because it gets almost no sunlight. My windows are on the south side of building, which looks out at the building next door. At least there’s ivy on the opposing wall. And on the ground below, there are some more ivy and a bunch of ferns. So it’s not as bad as it could be, I guess. The dumpsters could be there instead.
The indoor jungle arranged by the only source of natural light. You’d have no idea from looking out my window that it’s actually a bright and sunny afternoon today.
So with little to no sunlight, my lava plant, though still alive, has stopped blooming. It just looks like a bizarre space ship the floated down and landed on my table. You can see it in the photo above, the second plant from the left, along with the three tiny cacti on the windowsill above it.
The aloe… oh aloe. I have aloe because I have an extraordinary knack for burning myself (coming soon: Adventures in Baking!). Aloe comes in handy for that, so I had it on my kitchen counter. Well… it never got any sunlight and I watered it too much, so it just started getting really sad and limp. I moved it to the exterior windowsill and it just got burned by the morning sun.
Now inside and on a diet of no water. It actually looks a lot better here than it did before… hopefully the improvement continues.
So those are the veterans. Recently, craving more usefulness in my garden, I purchased a rosemary plant and a lavender plant from Whole Foods. They were both small herbs, so I put them in the same blue pot I had. Just like a couple of old ladies, Lavender’s overbearing character soon overtook Rosemary’s mild temperament. Rosemary died back while Lavender flourished. Today, I replanted Rosemary in her own can and rearranged Lavender in her blue pot.
Look at that… so smug that she got her way.
Hopefully Rosemary will take to her new solo arrangement. Also pictured: ficus clippings. Every tree starts small!
About a month ago I took clippings, with the help of my coworker, from a couple of houseplants at Cloud City Coffee, where I work. The two ficus clippings sat in a jelly jar of water since then and sprouted roots! Today I moved them each to their own can. It will be interesting to see how this goes, as I’ve no experience with clippings.
The other plant I took clippings from is still in its jelly jar. It’s sort of getting roots- or at least it has little nubbies forming at the joints of the stems. Bella (my coworker) told me it is called a pathos plant and is a great houseplant as it doesn’t need much light and is easy to take clippings of.
pathos: n. a quality that evokes pity or sadness. Yeah, that seems about right….
There’s one more little friend, by far the standout survivor of the bunch. After the accident, my friend, Amzeah, gave me an orange Gerbera daisy. It came in one of those little supermarket plastic pots with foil around it and looked like it was just ITCHING it get out, so I planted it in a much larger can and have been keeping it out in the sun. Look how happy it is. It also has plenty of new buds forming, so it should keep blooming, if only the weather would warm up a little bit.
I should note that I didn’t have more than the yellow and blue pots, and I don’t have a lot of money, so I just started collecting metal cans from my kitchen and at work. The big one the Gerbera daisy now lives in used to be filled with either corn or salsa. And the ficus cans were sweetened condensed milk. I just use a knife and a hammer (I didn’t have a nail big enough) to poke 5-10 holes in the bottom, depending on the size. Then I fill it with about an inch of washed gravel from Ace Hardware. This allows water to drain from the can without losing soil. The plants are much happier, and it’s a good way to recycle cans. I was thinking of decorating them, but I think I like the look as it is for now.
Whew! That was quite the post, but for the first post of what should be an ongoing project, I think it all came out very well. Thanks for sticking with me! I’ll continue to write about my little urban plant collection as it grows and develops.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Vacation?
Somewhere under that fire is Joey's bike, and somewhere to the right of it is me and my beau.
In the early hours of July 3rd, my boyfriend, Joey, and I were riding home from my parents' apartment building to my apartment building. It's about a mile and a half through downtown Seattle, and not even the part of downtown that would be busy on a Friday night. We didn't make it home... about a block from the Police headquarters, right next to the court house, we were hit from the left by a giant, speeding white SUV. White SUVs will now forever haunt my nightmares, hiding in dark corners, waiting to pounce at any given moment.
So, we're hit by this crazy driver (and the four other people in their car). I blacked out from the impact, and due to Joey's concussion, he doesn't remember a thing. But honestly, by looking at the press photos (taken by a guy from his apartment above) and from waking up in planter near the sidewalk with FIRE immediately to my left, this crash was definitely directed by none other than action movie pseudo-legend Michael Bay. I guess I should be flattered that I was chosen for this part as a stuntwoman, but I really would have love to have been told beforehand, as the massive damage to my body, including a broken femur, would have been easier to take.
On a more serious note, Joey and I owe our lives to the men and women of the police station who responded and put their own lives in danger by pulling us out of the fire to safety. There were some at least one explosion-sound as Joey's motorcycle took immediate revenge on the car by igniting its gas tank and placing itself directly under the hood of the SUV. Rest in peace, little buddy; you were an amazing bike. The only other casualty was the fern that I ended up laying underneath... I drove by the site of the accident a few days ago and it looks like that plant didn't make it through the fire. Thank you again to the police that I DID make it out of the fire.
None of the 5 people in the SUV were hurt. Which I suppose is good? I have conflicting feelings, as OF COURSE I don't want to see another human being injured, but I'm also $#%*ing pissed about being hit by them. Joey and I have broken bones, and one of the police officers had to be taken into the hospital, but all three of us are okay.
WHEW. Since I got out of the hospital last week, I've literally just been sitting on my parents' couch. Luckily, I still have a job at Reckless Video. My boss and the owner love me enough to let me take a sweet four week long vacation. The worst vacation ever. In like, the best part of the summer. At least I don't have a cast like Joey does, but I'm also bitter about that. Worse is that our lack of transportation prevents us from seeing one another.
Enough bitching though. Some positive things about this vacation:
It's given me plenty of time to think. Most of the time I feel like I'm rushing around and not accomplishing much, so this has been a good chance for my brain to catch up with my life.
An inability to go out also means I'm not spending money! Which is especially good because I'm also not making an income at the moment. So it's kind of balancing out.
I'm getting a chance to catch up on my reading. I ready The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo by Steig Larsson. It was compulsively annoying and yet I could not put it down. I started to read the next book in the series, The Girl Who Played With Fire, but after nothing happened in the first 100 pages, I decided to put it down. (That's a total lie- a hurricane and a breast enhancement surgery happened in the first 100 pages. It just didn't seem like anything happened... which is worse.) Now I've moved on to a book I started last year, but had to return to the library, Empire of Illusion: The End of Literacy and the Triumph of Spectacle by Chris Hedges. This book is utterly amazing. It is a bit slower of a read, as there is so much that makes me think (and a little that makes me angry), so I find myself having to take breaks to think on what he's said. These are the best kinds of books in my opinion. I would recommend this book to everyone.
The only bummer is I can't catch up on Nostalgia Chick video reviews, as there's something wrong with my flash player. But that doesn't mean you all can't enjoy one of my favourites:
Bye bye for now. If you have any awesome things I could be doing with all this free time, please let me know!
Monday, November 16, 2009
Here's to the past 3 months of my life being over...
2009 must be the year of life lessons.
Of course, moving into a house that isn't my parents' is a big step. On top of learning how to live with four other people, I've learned a few other things:
1) Never sign a lease when you're the only one on it and you're relying on four other people to pay rent. And if you do, make sure to make them sign subleases. Never offer to pay rent for a "friend," even if it means that it's saving your own ass. They will take advantage of you, and they probably will not pay you back.
2) Don't assume that people have respect for you or your property. If your shit gets ruined, I find it best to leave notes. Be cautioned though; if the note is too bitchy, it will at best be ignored and at worst, great time and care will be taken to do the exact opposite. A sense of humor works best (as with my "Stop Metal-On-Metal Brutality" pamphlet after I found someone had ruined my nonstick fry pans by using a knife on them).
And lastly, thanks to two of the people I lived with (who also caused the above problems):
3) Don't live with a drunk. They pee on your couches, break dishes (sometimes by falling onto them), steal your cigarettes and food, victimize themselves and make you feel guilty in order to help themselves, and all around make it a living hell to generally be around them. Drunk people are fun at bars. They often appear silly and jovial, or if they are angry, you have the comfort of not having to deal with it. When you live with a drunk, you HAVE to deal with it. Even if you leave them at the bar so you don't have to carry them home after they've passed out all bloody from falling on their own drink (true story), they will eventually come home and they will eventually be drunk IN your home because it's their home, too. They lose their jobs because they are drunk/hungover, and they spend all of the little money they do have on booze. They come home from their jobs and complain how they don't make enough money, they are poor and hungry, and then knock down half a dozen beers in under 15 minutes.
I speak from experience as that exact thing JUST HAPPENED IN MY KITCHEN. Not only does this person have a higher paying job than I do and is able to work more hours, but he manages to bitches about it all the time, not have money for rent or bills, and use all my food with the excuse that he'd starve otherwise. I watched him piss away his money on booze (literally, as with the couch incidents), and then try to apply for food stamps. When he was turned down by the program, he started going to the food bank. As glad as I am that he doesn't eat my food anymore, and as much as I support food bank programs, it's still disheartening to see this guy come home with fresh fruit and vegetables and enough bread to last him a month- every week. Somehow, he can still manage to complain about it- there are too many carbs, not enough protein and produce. Bald lies- I threw away the oranges and spinach he had brought home after they molded from sitting around so long.
I guess the problem is not so much that he's a drunk, but that he sees himself as a victim and has no self-respect or confidence. He manipulates others and blames the world for his ills, when really he has so much control over every situation.
One good lesson comes from having had to live for 3 months with this person- I see him and am reaffirmed that I will never become like him. I will take the 12 years of life that separates us in age and grow to be a better person- not a deadbeat who saves other's cigarette butts instead of quitting when I can't afford to smoke.
Good Riddance.
Of course, moving into a house that isn't my parents' is a big step. On top of learning how to live with four other people, I've learned a few other things:
1) Never sign a lease when you're the only one on it and you're relying on four other people to pay rent. And if you do, make sure to make them sign subleases. Never offer to pay rent for a "friend," even if it means that it's saving your own ass. They will take advantage of you, and they probably will not pay you back.
2) Don't assume that people have respect for you or your property. If your shit gets ruined, I find it best to leave notes. Be cautioned though; if the note is too bitchy, it will at best be ignored and at worst, great time and care will be taken to do the exact opposite. A sense of humor works best (as with my "Stop Metal-On-Metal Brutality" pamphlet after I found someone had ruined my nonstick fry pans by using a knife on them).
And lastly, thanks to two of the people I lived with (who also caused the above problems):
3) Don't live with a drunk. They pee on your couches, break dishes (sometimes by falling onto them), steal your cigarettes and food, victimize themselves and make you feel guilty in order to help themselves, and all around make it a living hell to generally be around them. Drunk people are fun at bars. They often appear silly and jovial, or if they are angry, you have the comfort of not having to deal with it. When you live with a drunk, you HAVE to deal with it. Even if you leave them at the bar so you don't have to carry them home after they've passed out all bloody from falling on their own drink (true story), they will eventually come home and they will eventually be drunk IN your home because it's their home, too. They lose their jobs because they are drunk/hungover, and they spend all of the little money they do have on booze. They come home from their jobs and complain how they don't make enough money, they are poor and hungry, and then knock down half a dozen beers in under 15 minutes.
I speak from experience as that exact thing JUST HAPPENED IN MY KITCHEN. Not only does this person have a higher paying job than I do and is able to work more hours, but he manages to bitches about it all the time, not have money for rent or bills, and use all my food with the excuse that he'd starve otherwise. I watched him piss away his money on booze (literally, as with the couch incidents), and then try to apply for food stamps. When he was turned down by the program, he started going to the food bank. As glad as I am that he doesn't eat my food anymore, and as much as I support food bank programs, it's still disheartening to see this guy come home with fresh fruit and vegetables and enough bread to last him a month- every week. Somehow, he can still manage to complain about it- there are too many carbs, not enough protein and produce. Bald lies- I threw away the oranges and spinach he had brought home after they molded from sitting around so long.
I guess the problem is not so much that he's a drunk, but that he sees himself as a victim and has no self-respect or confidence. He manipulates others and blames the world for his ills, when really he has so much control over every situation.
One good lesson comes from having had to live for 3 months with this person- I see him and am reaffirmed that I will never become like him. I will take the 12 years of life that separates us in age and grow to be a better person- not a deadbeat who saves other's cigarette butts instead of quitting when I can't afford to smoke.
Good Riddance.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Case of the blahhhhs.
I have, well... had, every intention on writing about my trip to Truckee that ended up being a trip to the top of a mountain, the Castro, the beach, and some weird places within my head. If I'm honest with myself, I haven't taken the time to sit and think about it. And I'm really not sure if I want to afford that time that was so wonderfully an escape.
I finally found a job. At Reckless Video, up the street from my house. It's wonderful. It's small, the people who own and work in it are great. Watching movies for a living is the greatest thing, but I'm getting pretty glued to my couch. I realize now how many movies I HAVEN'T seen. I'm also realizing that the average person rents really terrible movies.
The pursuit for another job is still on, though I'm not as worried about it. I'm still holding out for a bartending job. My bitterness towards Seattle Bartending College is subsiding, though.
My latest goal is to stop waking up at 3pm. Everything good to do during the day is already over by then, unless there's some amazing project I'm trying to work on. I'm pretty sure that watching shitty t.v. shows on hulu.com doesn't qualify in that category...
Until next time...
I finally found a job. At Reckless Video, up the street from my house. It's wonderful. It's small, the people who own and work in it are great. Watching movies for a living is the greatest thing, but I'm getting pretty glued to my couch. I realize now how many movies I HAVEN'T seen. I'm also realizing that the average person rents really terrible movies.
The pursuit for another job is still on, though I'm not as worried about it. I'm still holding out for a bartending job. My bitterness towards Seattle Bartending College is subsiding, though.
My latest goal is to stop waking up at 3pm. Everything good to do during the day is already over by then, unless there's some amazing project I'm trying to work on. I'm pretty sure that watching shitty t.v. shows on hulu.com doesn't qualify in that category...
Until next time...
Thursday, July 30, 2009
On the road.
Just got home from a night out, bar-hopping with friends and NOT DRINKING. So very proud of myself for sticking to tonic with lime. It also makes me a cheap date. Unfortunately, I also got to see how ridiculous my friends can look while drunk from the view of sobriety...
And now, to pack for the trip to Truckee. I have an entire bag of gummy worms and it's WAY too hot to sleep anyways, so this should be a snap. What I really haven't mentally prepared myself for is the 23-hour long bus ride ahead of me. At least I'll get some sleep, I suppose.
And now, to pack for the trip to Truckee. I have an entire bag of gummy worms and it's WAY too hot to sleep anyways, so this should be a snap. What I really haven't mentally prepared myself for is the 23-hour long bus ride ahead of me. At least I'll get some sleep, I suppose.
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