Delor.es.Defacto

When I first started this blog, years ago in an after party of my own, late one night at my parents’ house, setting up my LiveJournal account, I entitled my new world of internet wonder: “The Beginning is the End is the Beginning” (or was it the other way around? I forget.) Anyway, in all dramatic Billy Corgan fashion, I had started on a little endeavor that was without a real direction or purpose. Here, today, with the rain and sleepy gray feeling out town, I have past across an actual finish line.

I finished the work for my degree (insert fanfare here) and officially applied for graduation at my school. Seems the degree part won’t be awarded until October 19th or something, but nonetheless, the workload is completed. After finishing those three, final, English literature classes back to back, one month at a time, I set my mind to finishing my thesis work (I had some piddly things that I had put off for months and I wrote each day in some sort of list or notebook; finish this, would ya?) I’m such a dumdum for not doing that stuff sooner but, alas, procrastination gets the better of me every time. It’s the way I’ve always been and I honestly don’t see any recourse from it only that it makes me feel guilty. Since guilt isn’t something good and feeling condemned by something that you create in your head (or, as in my case, as people have told me to feel condemned about since I was old enough to sit in a school desk - something I tried to wiggle out of as much as possible) I don’t see much need for concern. If it’s not something that really matters when it gets done, then, sheesh, who cares?

Anyway, so now that all of it has been turned in and I’m awaiting my final grades to be put in, I’ve already been on some interviews for teaching jobs. Now, I’ve not worked for over a year now and I’m still awaiting financial aid to send me a scrap of cash (something they can’t discuss until all the bills are paid - bills that include a $100 graduation fee. Oh no, I didn’t make that up.) If this job I applied for yesterday works out, then I’ll be able to start working next month, now that I have my degree. If I can’t work then, more than likely after Christmas I’ll have something.

However, now that my deadlines of school has finished, I feel out of sorts. Nothing to stress about that is in the means of productivity. Nothing to mark in my little day planner as an important date. Just me and the cat and the sound of the air conditioner running. (That broke during the last hurricane, by the way, and it took three attempts before the maintenance guys finally got the “small” leak repaired. Nice.) But while this stagnant feeling has taken over me, I see that it is an end to my last hurdle. When I started my work in the writing program it was because I was sitting at a desk in a public school, hating my job and stressing about it so badly that my body was eating at itself to create illness. I realized then, that teaching was something that tore me from my real love of writing and I wanted something for myself to work towards. Otherwise, each day was devoted to trying to stay in cohorts with the evil administrators and Lord knows that’s just not part of the plan for anyone. So…online and upwards in education I went.

The funny thing is, now that I have the degree to get away from the horrible teaching days, I’m getting lulled back into it. Granted it makes sense that someone with an English degree and a Creative Writing degree would only be able to sit at her own desk and type away at a little machine, or go into a classroom and teach her wide range of knowledge just to keep herself in a home. But as I realized yesterday, being shown the new hopeful classroom (it has windows!) and given books (free books) and materials, and being introduced to people at the school, I got the distinct feeling that I was going to be able to head out for another change in my life. And yes, it freaks me out, but no, I’m not going to shy away from it. For starters, I need the money; that’s obvious. For seconds, I need some new deadlines, goals, objectives and, hell, people to talk to in the physical form who are not close relatives. I couldn’t stand most of the teachers I worked with and at the interviews I went to these past few months, I saw that negative, ready to strike, overly critical look in some of their eyes. But I also met some very nice ladies, like the one yesterday, who would be lovely to work for. Nice, friendly, chatty, helpful and polite. You can tell when things are right for you or when they are not. Some interviews I went to, I thought, “Oh hell, no, I’m not going through the kind of pain they’re looking to dunk me into.” But others I felt at ease sitting with them.

I have also realized that teaching is a bit too much of a social task for me. Granted, I don’t know if I’ll feel like this once I get into the college arena. I may love that. I know I loved college after I left the horrible high school years. I know I loved the university after I went through all the bull in my early years at the community college too. Without the regime of the state standards and the women who preserve it, I may have a much better time at the private school or at the community colleges. I’m not dismissing that possibility at all. However, I don’t think I’m going to stay with that career move for long. For one thing, when I was at an interview last month, I was told that more than half of a college’s staff is part-time and it’s “extremely hard” to get full-time work over being an adjunct. My interviewer’s advice, “Go back to teaching high school.” Um…okay, no. Not unless I had a certificate and experience and full metal armor, would I go back into that arena. No, I wouldn’t even go back even if they couldn’t find some way to gossip about my faults; it’s not worth it. You waste your whole life and never get to fulfill yourself. Not that helping people is bad and not that I didn’t love working with the kids. I’ll love working with the “kids”, fresh outta high school hipsters who join my classes. But public school in Florida. Nope. Never again.

So my option for moving out of the education realm came across my mind earlier this year; to be a librarian. Now I don’t recall exactly how I came up with this idea. I think I was looking around at education websites or career websites or something and I saw jobs for librarians. I started musing about the idea but never really mentioned it to anyone because, well, I’m tired of mentioning it to people who make some negative comment about what I say, just to give “advice”, so I kept this and a lot of other things to myself. But anyway, so I started investigating what it takes to become a librarian saw that you only need a Master’s Degree in Librarian and Information Science, so I started looking up potential online programs. Some of them were asking for high GRE scores which I never could get after attempting that test three times. (Even though, at the time, I still had that chip on my shoulder that has since dissolved) and some were just way too expensive. So I found a handful of schools that were reasonably priced and that had admission requirements that I could manage. I applied to some, got some professors to write me some letters of recommendation (I’m still waiting on three and the deadline is in two weeks - yay!), a letter stating why I’d be such a good librarian, and the money to pay for the application and transcript request fees. It’s that money bit that gets me every time.

And that’s all I can say right now about the outline of my life’s events. These are the things that I chalk up to “professional” or “work” sense even though I’m really thinking about posting an actual website for my “real” me stuff (you know, use my real name, talk about my personal life, talk about my writing, lift the veil of half anonymity) and I will soon enough. There’s more I need to write in a real sense instead of in an escapism sense. Still, escapism is the purpose for writing anyway so this here little bloggy will have to stick too.

Photo credit: florian.b

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I wrote this in my notebook as I was on my porch, smoking these old Camel lights that have been in one of my kitchen drawers for, oh a year now. I am like those stupid Become and EX commercials that talks about re-learning how to do certain things without cigarettes. For me, unfortunately, it’s writing. I’ve tried to write an entry for a while about the internal stuff that’s going on with me. There are some past actions and reaction, aside from writing without smoking, that I’m trying to unlearn.

Some months ago, I was lying in bed, wondering if I was going to be the girl who was always alone. Every past action indicated to that assumption. But I realized, that night, that it was me that was causing the empty bed and the lack of a friend-based relationship. I was alone because I had trained myself to believe that I was “supposed” to be alone. (What does that Interpol song say? “I’m sick of spending these lonely night, training myself not to care”?)
Now Lord knows that after having one guy say and do the worst, manipulative and dishonest things to me at a young age, when I thought that was all I could get, even thought I knew it was wrong, I was still hurt and discouraged. The idea of what “love” was to a man because a separate definition to what I defined the word to mean. Love meant calling me up, after tons of unanswered messages, telling me of his past conquests and hatred for my crying, even though “you know I still love you.” So once I figured out that everything I believed in his words were empty, I went on to try the same routine with two other guys directly after my divorce. Each one turned around one day to say, “I don’t understand what the big deal is” when they did something just as cruel. Hence, I became cemented in jealousy, anxiety, depression, guilt and disillusion.

And since those years long ago, I’ve sought after crushes who had the same kind of attitude towards me. They reeled me in, tossed me out, reeled me in, then berated me for having an emotional reactions to their inactions of care. Never once did I think I was choosing the wrong guys. Never once did it occur to me that I was setting myself up for failure on purpose because I didn’t think I deserved anything else.

By being a single woman in my modern world, I have had plenty of firsthand experience on the long, arduous process of relationship discussions. We have books and movies and television shows and music and friends who all talk about men. We have to be “smart” girls. We can’t put up with any man’s crap. We have to (as Dr. Phil says) “teach people how to treat us.” Men will do anything it takes to screw a woman over and we have to be on guard at all times. Basically, I have been fashioned into a bitch.
And since I have always been the one to be hurt, I never thought anything was my fault past not being beautiful, not being thin enough, not being like other girl who had husbands. I wasn’t bitchy enough I supposed and Lord knows I got plenty of resentment in myself when I was called “bitter.”
In the past month or so, something changed in me drastically. It was as if I finally saw myself on the inside and I found out that my past had been an excuse to carry a chip on my shoulder. I assumed all men were liars, cheaters, manipulators, skirt chasers and all-around jerks who delighted in nothing more than to push every button I had to make me crazy with anxiety and insecurity.
I started seeing that all this time, I was expecting people to say, “Oh, she’s had it bad before, so she has a right to be distrusting.” I had it said to me by women for years. I was set apart because I had this crappy past that I kept on call to use as a tool to week out any possible errors in a man’s character that would potentially make him “just like the others.”

But now I realize it’s been me this whole time that’s choosing to be bent out of shape over things that should be boxed up and buried. I am the one who accuses and assumes that every man is never going to be genuine or trustworthy or kind. So I set up fights and wait for an opportunity to pounce and say, “Ah ha! I knew it!” I lash out and keep myself “protected” instead of tearing down my wall that I took years to put up. I use to think, “I’ll try with this (wrong) guy, but if it doesn’t work (when I knew it wouldn’t because he wasn’t right for me), I’m putting another brick up and sealing myself off for good!” I wasn’t going to be anyone’s fool.

Nope, I’ve been my own fool all along. I saw mean and hurtful, unjust things. I get angry and jealous and worked up over nothing that is the actual truth — I make up reasons to not try and let anyone in.

So unlearning all of this is what I’ve been trying to do recently. I realized that all of the things I have gone through is my reason for writing. I always figured that I’d be able to tell my future audience the things I learned along the way. What I wanted to write about is how I figured out, at age 32, that shutting the door in any man’s face before they even try to know is anything but smart. I learned that it isn’t that someone is going to have to save me from being hurt; I have to save myself from being someone to does the hurting. I’ve learned not to repeat my patterns, but to grow out of them and evolve.
I apologize for any rocks I may have kicked up as I tried to set myself on my path.

Photo credit: remotd

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I have to step up on my platform, and call all of my Orlando pals to hear my speech regarding our “City Beautiful”.

I found a random slide show on Youtube entitled Downtown Orlando that depicts the daytime colors and buildings that we’re all accustomed to, have grown familiar with and connect with as our place of “home.” That’s why when this wanker made the comment of, “don’t go downtown at night . It’s a very dangerous place” I had to take a stance.

While we have all discussed time and time again about how we miss our days at Cairo and our trips through Church Street, we still are trying to keep our night life and our culture alive. And I’m not just talking as far as music culture, I mean the “real” substance and history of Orlando.
But this guy, who lives in Windermere mind you, made comments about how only idiots go downtown and the only “culture” we have is tattoo parlors (incidentally, didn’t they close that one down on Orange Avenue by the old Laser Tag place?)
So with this scare tactic mindset put in place, I had to retort by giving examples of what downtown is really about and how tourists are not going to be randomly shot while on Spring Break, trying to check out a club or a show on a Saturday night. I think what he’s perceiving as downtown Orlando is the now defunct Church Street that we’ve all been moaning about for years now. That’s something that hopefully will be renovated soon. Not that I have any interest in going down to any college pubs and watching naked women hand me a Jell-O shot, but, yes, we use to have a lot going on down there. But if you’ll all recall, we also had the law passed that said the homeless were only allowed to stand on certain, marked areas of the sidewalk. The younger generation (as I was part of back then) was harassed by being pegged as a “gutter punk” who wanted nothing more than to loiter. After that happened we lost anything substantial on Wall Street Plaza and now we have the Cantina that targets, woo hoo, tourists.
By this man not living and being a real part of downtown Orlando for the past ten to fifteen years as I have, as everyone in town as been, the real essence of pride and home and culture and pride that we’ve been trying to support and promote time and time again, is being refuted by now putting fear into tourists minds that downtown is totally unsafe. Well, there’s crime but there’s crime in every city. That’s common knowledge. Actually, the only time I had a problem with a break in of my car (and a handful of other people I knew who were targeted at the same time) was ten years ago when this nesnman guy is saying was safer. So much for what he knows.
I just wanted to send my opinions out to anyone in town who may read this and see what had gotten me so worked up about. All of us are trying to build up our town and to have someone say that only the theme park areas are “safe” just makes me irate. Unfortunately this is probably the opinion of many cash heavy snow birds who put money into big corporations and leave the smaller businesses to crumble. This is why we have lost so many clubs, restaurants, pubs and decent shows to the overly expensive Disney/Universal/MGM machine.
I’ve made a list of links and historical and cultural items that make up the real Orlando that we’re proud to have thriving to this day. As I stated in my YouTube comment, “Walt would be appalled at what Disney has become these days.”

Orlando is also home to the University of Central Florida, which is the second largest university in Florida in student enrollment and has the 6th largest enrollment in the nation.
Orlando is home to the Orlando Magic, an NBA pro basketball franchise that plays at Amway Arena in downtown Orlando. Led by Shaquille O’Neal, the Magic made it to the NBA Finals in 1995. Orlando’s Amway Arena, opened in 1989 is already one of the oldest arenas in the NBA. It will be replaced around 2010 by the $480-million Orlando Events Center.
Orlando Public Library, the main downtown library of the Orange County Library System, which features 15 locations system wide. Situated on an entire city block in the heart of downtown Orlando, the library is an epicenter for arts and cultural events, educational and entertainment resources, and solitude.
The Kerouac House, in the College Park neighborhood of Orlando, is where writer Jack Kerouac lived during the time his novel On the Road was published and released, making him a national sensation and Beat Generation icon. He lived in the house with his mother Gabrielle from July 1957 to the spring of 1958, and wrote his three-act play, The Beat Generation, a 51-chorus poem called Orlando Blues, and the novel The Dharma Bums during his time there. In 1997, the Kerouac Project of Orlando formed, and restored the Kerouac house. It is now a haven for aspiring writers who can live in the house as they create their own work.
Eatonville is a town in Orange County, Florida, six miles north of Orlando. It was one of the first all-black towns to be formed after the Emancipation Proclamation in 1863 and, on August 15, 1887, was the first such town to be incorporated. Zora Neale Hurston grew up there. Every winter, Eatonville stages its annual Zora Neale Hurston Festival of the Arts and Humanities and the Zora Neal Hurston Library.
Harry P. Leu Gardens, which is an inner city oasis covering 50 acres (20,000 m²) and features colorful annuals, palms, an orchid house, a floral clock and a butterfly garden.
The Orlando Museum of Art is Orlando’s largest modern art museum. Located in Loch Haven Park, the museum has ongoing exhibitions of American portraits and landscapes, American impressionist works, and art of the ancient Americas. In 2003, the museum hosted the world-renowned full exhibition of the famous glass sculptor, Dale Chihuly.
The Orlando Metropolitan Area is also home to a substantial theatre population. Several professional and semi-professional houses and many community theaters dot the area including Orlando-UCF Shakespeare Festival, Orlando Repertory Theatre (Central Florida’s only Professional Theatre for Young Audiences), Orlando Theatre Project, Starlight Dinner Theatre, Mad Cow Theatre, Theatre Downtown, The Osceola Center for the Arts, Winter Park Playhouse, Theatre Winter Haven, IceHouse Theatre, and Seaside Music Theatre. Orlando also hosts the Orlando International Fringe Theater Festival every summer.

Church Street Station, a multi-level shopping mall and entertainment center that once featured an abundance of specialty shops, restaurants, nightclubs, and bars. Purchased in the late 1990s by TransContinental Talent owner Lou Pearlman, it is now virtually defunct, as the area suffered in post-9/11 tourist-industry slump. The area is being redeveloped with residential condominiums. Now closed due to bankruptcy and is due to be bought over.
Based on the Morgan Quitno Press “Safest and Most Dangerous Cities of 2007″ rankings, Orlando ranks #11 nationaly. It’s to be noted that the American Society of Criminology (ASC) and the FBI object to such rankings and use of data stating “These rankings represent an irresponsible misuse of the data and do groundless harm to many communities” and don’t take into account “factors that influence crime in a particular study area such as population density and the degree of urbanization”.

Orlando for Adults - The New York Times
Orlando Sentinel - Downtown Blog
Wikipedia - Downtown Orlando
Review Orlando

And, ironically or not in the news today:
Tourist Robbed At Hotel Near Disney

Photo credit: NY Times

http://www.deloresdefacto.com/?p=87

Okay. Since it’s been long since I decided that I should update my blog with, yet another, random list of things, I will do so today. Again, there’s not a whole lot going on and this is the easiest way to make an entry. Here goes:

– I’m still pondering going out tonight for the Barbs Reunion.
– It sucks that it costs, at last visit to the gas station, $37 to fill up my tank.
– I have a couple of writing contests that I want to enter but, alas, that costs money as well. Didn’t someone say at one time, to not bother paying for such thing anyway?
– I’m still working my way through the wonderful world of Coetzee by keeping Diary of a Bad Year instead of returning it the the library. I’ve had it since March I think.
– I finished Out Stealing Horses this week though. It was one of those that, after reading the last line, I shut the book and muttered, “F&*$, that’s good.” My professor was adamant on this one and I didn’t want to be so easily swayed by opinion but, alas, he was right.
– I got caught up with Fran on The Tudors. Good Lord, those guys were some evil bastards. I had nightmares about the last episode we saw that showed the torture and beheading spree.
– I am prepared to tape all three hours of Lost this Thursday. We have extra footage, plus the two hour season finale to discuss later on. Right now I’m betting that the last episode will be about Claire. We also discussed that maybe the island brought Christian Shephard back to life and that the freighter will blow up because Sun and Aaron are the only ones of the Oceanic Six who aren’t in the room with the explosives. Now, as to who the other two people are supposedly survived the crash but later died, had better be freaking explaining because that’s driving me up a wall (as is everything else on this show.)
– I am not getting my tax refund bonus money until this month because apparently since I had the processing fees with TurboTax taken out before my refund was deposited. I don’t get why this extra cash can’t be sent electronically as well but, eh, at least they’re sending me something (although, I think I count as the poorest of the poor and will only get the minimum amount.)
– I need, and do not currently have money for: Frontline for the cat, my allergy pills, money for my insurance and going out cash. Seems though the insurance money will obviously have to come first and everything else will just have to wait.
– I found my Ophelia painting from my old office and I tacked it up in my bedroom, since my walls are so bare. But then I got all antsy about staring at the damn thing at night and worrying about if it was even (since I have no frame to put it in right now) so I got on a chair and tacked it up in the hallway instead. That poster has been through a hundred attempts at staying up on a wall. It has rips and folds and holes punched in it on all corners. I remember when one of my seniors first saw that hanging in my office he said, “Wow, Miss. That painting is…uh…pretty intense.” After I explained who she was, I think he was a little more at ease with my artistic tastes in office decor.
– I took this picture of my desk after I got done with my cleaning spree. I have a lamp that actually puts out some light (for only $5) and a small stack of papers and items listed to be dealt with in the near future. By the way, the little notepaper reads, “To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.” Ralph Waldo Emerson. I found that when I was cleaning the desk up. Now I’m using it for my current work theme. I love Emerson.
– I was ready to throw said lamp out the window last week when IE 7 kept crashing. Sure, crash recovery is fine, but crashing all the time for no apparent reason is not. I did some Windows updates, ran a couple of free virus and spyware detectors, plus removed the Share This button on my toolbar. I didn’t have this problem before I added the button and my spyware mentioned a problem with my toolbar so…

And that’s about it. Nothing else going on really. I have my little routine around here that keeps my mind occupied as I keep trying to find work, write my stories, get some cash, get some new books, get back to getting back I guess you could say.

Photo credit: deloresdefacto

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Good Lord, this has been forever since I’ve written an update.  Oh well, as I said last time, there’s nothing that poignant or relatively memorable to mention lately.<br>
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I finished up my submissions and editing and judging on submissions duties for my school’s lit magazine.  I have a handful of stories I sent in (yes, I voted for myself) and a couple of book reviews.  Even if one story gets added to this Spring/Summer edition, that will be one small step for my writing kind.  At least I got everything done for the magazine that I said I would.  There’s, of course, the matter of my actual classes though and I haven’t quite put everything together <i>yet</i>.  But at least financial aid finally came through with my tuition money so I’m not longer getting late payment notices in the mail.<br>
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Still no work but I keep sending out the silly resumes.  I read on <a href=”http://orlandojobs.blogspot.com/2008/04/finding-job-in-recession-if-you-believe.html” title=”Orlando Jobs” target=”_blank”>Orlando Jobs</a> that a lot of people are doing the same thing I’m doing and posting their resumes to every online job site they come across and it’s not working.  While it’s not good news to know that all this pointless effort has been exerted for months now, it is nice to know that I’m not the only one out here who is getting sick and tired of getting scam replies, or no replies at all.<br>
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But with this time on my hands I’ve been reading and working and trying my hardest to just get caught up on all the things I want to do with my time.  Cleaning has been one of my main objectives as well.  It’s sad that, honestly, not having to have your life wasted day by day, working for someone else, worrying about someone else’s meaningless rules and guidelines, and having your life for yourself <i>isn’t</i> as easy as it really should be.  Hopefully once I have my degree in, I can work for some online colleges as well as adjunct for the local community colleges and then I’ll at least be working in my desired field.  While the idea of having a job that lacks a lot of responsibility, like a secretary, does sound awfully nice, I probably would, as most people say they do, get bored with it really quick.  But, again, all of this time of running around, having complete freedom to do what I want;  I can see why people opt for being poor and true to themselves, or, hell, marrying for money, just so they can stay home and only worry about themselves from 9-5.  Too bad we have to rely on someone else to hand us over some cash every two weeks, otherwise we’d all be a hell of a lot happier.<br>
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Anyway, the <a href=”http://www.local6.com/news/16234725/detail.html” title=”brush fires” target=”_blank”>brush fires</a>, and the wind, and the high pollen count and the fact that it’s now sping time, are all making my allergies kick into high gear.  I’ve had that gross, sicky head and stomach feeling all day because of all of this stuff in the air.<br>
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My parents are on their way back from Ohio so I’m sure coming through the state will be oodles of fun since the traffic was, last time I watched the news, at a parking lot stand-still in some places.  Very nice.  I can’t wait for my parents to get back.  I am totally ready for an excuse to buy a belated Mother’s Day cake.  Those two mini cupcakes I had earlier just didn’t cut it (but I’m sure they helped my stomach, huh?)<br>
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And while I’m at it, I’ll mention that <a href=”http://www.lostpedia.com/wiki/Main_Page” title=”Lost” target=”_blank”>Lost</a> has been really good and I’m liking the two theories that either Jacob is related to everyone on the island, or is just the manifestation of whoever goes into the cabin (meaning “Jacob” tells them what they already know or want to hear.)  I’m going to cry this week, I’ve already decided.  After seeing the trailer where the plane door opens to see people waiting for them at home;  you know they’re going to have all that dramatic music and will make it as emotional as possible.  I love that show!  Now that <a href=”http://www.lostpedia.com/wiki/Charlie” title=”Charlie” target=”_blank”>Charlie</a> is dead or whatever (I’m still waiting for him to come swimming to shore one of these days), I’ve thrown all of my love and devotion to <a href=”http://www.lostpedia.com/wiki/Locke” title=”Locke” target=”_blank”>Locke</a> as my favorite character (for many different reasons, of course.)  But, nonetheless, I still can’t get that image of <a href=”http://www.lostpedia.com/wiki/Image:Jack-no-scar.jpg” title=”Jack without a scar” target=”_blank”>Jack without a scar</a>, running around in a towel with his matador physic.  Television just doesn’t get any better than that.<br>
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Speaking of which, I have to mention the two new discoveries for the Brit Guy collection:  <a href=”http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1765073/” title=”Jonas Armstrong” target=”_blank”>Jonas Armstrong</a>, (good name, by the way), who is the new <a href=”http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0787985/” title=”Robin Hood” target=”_blank”>Robin Hood</a> (where has he been these past two years;  I’ve just now seen the ads, and the show, on <a href=”www.bbcamerica.com” title=”BBC America” target=”_blank”>BBC America</a>) and <a href=”http://www.imdb.com/media/rm1123063552/nm1602660” title=”Ben Barnes” target=”_blank”>Ben Barnes</a> (another good name), who is <a href=”http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0499448/” title=”Prince Caspian” target=”_blank”>Prince Caspian</a> (I didn’t think he was that great looking at first and was actually kinda disappointed that they chose him, but after seeing him on an interview, I totally changed my mind.) 
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Photo credit:  <a href=”http://flickr.com/photos/shexbeer/” title=”roman” target=”_blank”>roman</a>
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<a href=”http://www.deloresdefacto.com/?p=83” title=”http://www.deloresdefacto.com/?p=83” target=”_blank”>http://www.deloresdefacto.com/?p=83</a>

Here I am again. Unmotivated, unsuccessful, unpublished, undesirable, uneducated, unmarketable, unemployed me.
I applied for at least 50 jobs online today. The only phone calls I got back were from the phone company who had to change my service for me because I can’t afford frivolous things like Caller ID, some credit card collection agencies and my mother.
Sometimes the creditors even like to call my mother to in hopes of either finding me or driving my whole family (even more?) insane.
I even went as far as to send some applications in the mail (because I’m not snotty enough to dismiss potential employment from someone who doesn’t even have an email address). One place had me fill out the paper application for each job again even though I’ve done this, and sent my resume / cover letter / transcript / references file to them in bulk this year. So there I was, printing out a paper application that I got online, mind you, from a higher educational system at that, and had to hand write all my information out, then write the job codes in pencil, scan and fax each page (a long distance call by the way…the phone company pointed that out when I swore to them that I just needed local phone service.) Then I had to erase the job code, write the new one, scan and fax again. I did this for about 5 jobs. Then there were the online applications that only by the grace of God and modern technology allowed me to “quick apply” for each one that said anything about “receptionist” and “Orlando”.
In some ways it was a productive day. Don’t they say that the hardest job is finding a job? And they probably said that before the wonders of online resume building.

And how do I stay so positive, you may ask? Well, I have finally figured out that all this time, as cliche as it sounds, chocolate and soap operas does make a girl feel good. Granted I had reduced fat Oreo cookies (4 a day) and watch The Tudors but all in all, it’s something that just helps make the emotional wishy-washy stuff melt away.
And actually it’s helped my weight too. I don’t eat much as far as nutrition goes, but I stay very satisfied with milk and cookies and an occasional peanut butter sandwich (reduced fat on low calorie bread, of course) makes the cravings for “bad things” not so apparently at midnight when I’m trying to get myself to sleep. I’ve also noticed that the old fun of chronic heartburn decides to come back early in the morning when I haven’t eaten anything for twelve hours. I swear, that alone made me have nightmares about being at my old job. Last night I pictures myself at a desk, having to fill out an application saying I’d willingly give it another year as a teacher with my administration all looking down on me in glee to have me as a torture victim again. The English Renaissance could have included that mental abuse in their attempts at punishment and confession. {shudder}

Anyway, it’s freaking freezing outside as my fellow Floridians know. It’s 61 out and I have the heater running, soup in my belly and flannel penguin pajamas on. Weren’t we getting excited for Spring last week?
And, I still have work to do, what’s new? If any kind of effort produced a mild hint of progress, I think I’d be way more into writing again. For now, everything just sits here, untyped, unsubmitted, unedited or unfinished. I recall a time, some months ago, when I worked a lot. I’m trying to get back into the full swing of working constantly but a million voided hours does not equal a million reasons to keep trying. (Unfortunately.)

I did, however, take thirty minutes to write an ode to all the crazy guys I’ve ever had in my life. I didn’t realize it before, but most of the guys I’m into are 5′11″ to 6′3″. And I always said that size didn’t matter. Hhmm… I sent my “Crazy Guy Timeline” in an email to Laura per our “men who are losing their hair should just go ahead and shave it” conversation. Yup, I enjoy being a girl.

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So for the next episode in the sitcom that is my life…

I went to my parents’ for dinner because they promised to greet me with pizza. I had a small one to myself and I ate the whole thing. That, some fat free chips and a cup of apple sauce was all I had today so I’m not guilty for eating so much. It was good and it was worth every single calorie and fat gram I ingested from each slice.
I sat around and helped Dad set up his new scanner and then decided to take a trip to a couple of stores just to walk off some of my dinner. After walking through Staples for a while and getting irritated that the only wide rule, hard cover notebook they had was $5 (Why does everyone want college ruled anymore? It’s so…Limiting.) I then decided to go to Target.
I look through the clothes for a while and hear a girl yelling at her boyfriend. “Oh you want me to lower my voice? You don’t want me to make an f-ing scene? Well I’ll make an f-ing scene if you’re going to f-ing talk to me like that…” Blah, blah, blah. And I didn’t look up to see what the couple looked like but from the girl’s words and actions, I guessed she was some 20 something twit who had no idea how to act in public or how to keep a guy’s pride in tact. (When they act like an ass, either let it go or wait until you’re in private, then let him have it.) Now, mind you this was 8:30 at night, so there were plenty of people in the store to hear this crap and Lord knows that girl wanted all of the negative attention that she could get.
After getting an earful of that, I listen to a dad, whose son has asked him “Why can’t I have this toy?”, reply to his kid with, “Because I’m the ruler of your life and I always will be and don’t you forget it.” I hear some guy mocking his girlfriend’s choice in clothes and I think to myself, “Dear Lord, this is why I don’t want to get married…”
However, I wander through the shoes, then the media section and find Jack White on the cover of Rolling Stone and all hope is restored. (Jack White equals a gold star day.) So I’m looking at the magazine, minding my own affair, and the stupid girl who was fighting with her boyfriend ten minutes earlier is on her cell phone, talking at the top of her lungs to one of her friends, while she stands in the aisle, breaking my concentration. She says in the phone the following:
“I was going to break up with him two weeks ago and I should have and now he’s going to f-ing dump me after my f-ing husband just died!” (I was guessing a prison brawl or an over-dose.) “How can he f-ing treat someone like that in public? I’ve done some bad things but I at least f-ing care about people. It’s karma. He’ll get exactly what he f-ing deserves. I’m going to wear my party dress and paint the town red and he’ll f-ing see what he missed out on…”
And here comes the best part. For those of you who don’t know, one of the stadiums where they do Spring Training for Major League Baseball is around here.
“I can’t believe I gave up a night hanging out with the pitcher for The Nationals to hang out with a guy who dumped me…I know he’s not good looking but I should give him a shot. I always date rock star, loser guys. Like, oh you have a job and a car, sorry can’t help you. But the pitcher will be in town for another few weeks because he lives in Washington…”"

When I called Fran to recount this story to her, we laughed about this part hysterically. I looked at the girl a few times and she wasn’t anything more than some white trash girl who would some day end up auditioning for a part on Rock of Love. Whatever delusions that girl was under, I seriously hope she seeks help and soon.
Oh yeah, she also mentioned to her friend that she was going to “go home to my kid, read my book and remember who I am.” Uh huh. Good luck with that one. I can’t even imagine being that crazy. At least that guy dumped her when he did. As Fran said, “I would have left her at Target too!”

But at least this made my evening a bit interesting. I’ve still had the stiff neck and the lack of motivation to get my work done. At least today, making myself ditch the nap for a shower and venture around town proved worthy. Now I have an amusing story, a full belly, a visit with my parents (that didn’t drive me insane), a good conversation with my friend, a magazine to entertain me (too bad I’m too much of a fuddy duddy now to cut the pics out and put on my fridge next to Jonathan Rhys Meyers and myself; we look good together) and some super cute bathroom decor. I ditched the black and white motif for the time being because they had a stack of the ever enticing clearance items. I bought a shower curtain that is white cotton with green sketches of bath items on it; duckies, toothbrushes, soaps, tubs, razors, etc. Then one each of the pastel hand towels that match, as well as the package of washcloths to complete the collection. All in all; approximately $5 and totally springtime appropriate.

I’ve been noticing lately, with the weather change, that I’m recalling the times of early spring when I was a kid. Isn’t it funny how you can walk out into a warm, sunny morning and remember have the same feeling you did when stepping out onto the playground after lunch?

Speaking of which, yes, the title of the post is from a Jem and the Holograms song.

Photo credit: rborja

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WP 2.5 and I have begun our new relationship. I wasn’t going to bother upgrading for a while since I’d heard some really negative comments about the new version, but thanks to Shane, I went ahead and took on the modern way of blogging.

So far, so good. I’m with everyone else on the whole layout having an oddly large font scheme and the tabs not really being set up the way they should be (the way we’re use to them being in the older versions). But it’s okay. It’s just different and I’m not use to how everything is set up.

I’m not too keen on all of the “write” post options being underneath the text box, nor do I like that I have to customize my editor toolbar.

Now, can anyone explain to me why my “Name” text jumps down a line for the comments, once the page loads? So annoying…

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I’ve been sick for a week and I have tons of work to do. I keep trying to sit here and type up all of my stories and the rest of the “novella” (if that’s what we’re calling it these days) but I have done nothing more than lie in bed, lie on the couch, take ibuprofen, Pamprin, asprin and apply various sports creams to my neck. (Asprin and Tiger Balm seem to be the only thing that’s done some sort of miraculous ease.) My neck is stiff, I haven’t felt “normal” or myself at all and every day I get up in the morning thinking I’m going to finally make some headway. Sadly, I’ve only scratched the surface on the list of stuff that needs to be pounded out on the computer. So I’ve emailed my professor, given him some of the work I’ve gotten done and am heading back to bed.
I’m guessing the stress of not working and the pain of not be able to work has become some vicious cycle. Does anyone else sit there and think they can logical reason with their mind that their body hasn’t slumped into a pitiful slump for days on end? Too bad that I can’t talk myself out of feeling bad so I can get all the words out and be done with the project for the time being. All of it is late and it makes the pain and the stress even worse; yet another vicious cycle.

I also wonder too, if I’m the only one who thinks there are only so many words that I am capable of conjuring and, thus, making my stories stagger in limitations. I feels as though I have a box of words that I can use and reuse so any difference in plot of theme is told the same. But I suppose that’s the beauty of having a specific voice or a particular style or whatever it is that keeps us locked in our own personal limitations. Somehow having a “unique” voice isn’t so dazzling when it can’t extend beyond the corners and go to the places you want it to go.

Photo credit: deadeyebart

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All right, I know this post is way later than usual but since Lost is on hold for a month, I didn’t see much point in going into much more musing detail. The sixth episode explained plenty and confirmed a couple of theories. Micheal is the man on the boat, fine. We all pretty much were handed that spoiler on a paper plate. Then a man named Widmore staged the whole wreckage footage, paid all the money to unearth bodies and buy an airplane just to sink it in a trench too far and too expensive to ever recover. Two points for me for.
What I don’t understand is how Desmond got to the island years ago, with a boat given to him by Libby way before this whole Oceanic crash happened. How the hell long has Widmore been keeping tabs on this island?
For the next few episodes, when the “war” starts and they show how everyone gets off the island, I’m still saying that Claire’s getting the axe from the show too. In the new promo for the rest of season four, it shows Hurley holding Aaron and saying something about Claire. (”Did you check Claire’s house?” Is that what he says?) Anyway, it indicates that she’s going to die, hence why Aaron is taken off the island by Kate.
I am sort of confused why they killed Rousseau off. I mean, can’t they use her in a lot of the past and present explanations? Someone said maybe they’ll just use her story in a flashback through Alex’s perspective or something. I didn’t love her character or anything, I’m just surprised that they took away someone who has been on the island for eons and could really help them out with explanations. Whatever.
I watched the first episode again too and I still want to know why it wasn’t only Hurley who could see Charlie. The patient, Lewis, comes up and says, “I’d be careful if I were you, there’s a guy over there staring at you.” What’s that about anyway? You have to be crazy to be able to see dead people? Hhmm…
I wanted to mention that I’m annoyed with the whole time change on the episodes now. Didn’t they figure out last time that everyone wants it on at 9 instead of 10. Why can’t they ever learn? Now we’ll just have to tape it and watch it over the weekend or something. So freaking annoying. Good job, ABC, way to piss a million viewers off. Again!

Now, for not Lost stuff…
I finished up three stories this week that I wanted to use for my final manuscript. However, I haven’t sat here and typed everything up yet. I had the longer piece I haven’t gone back to yet and, as usual, I keep putting it off for as long as I can. The thing is, with these online classes we’re all working on our own and occasionally talking to the professor or one another. So far I’ve talked to one girl in my class who said that she’s taking an incomplete for the course because she hasn’t been able to work on her manuscript right now. I emailed the professor earlier this week and made sure he knew that I planned on getting some more “editable” stuff to him as soon as possible. He just said “okay” and that was that. I don’t even know if we have an extra week in here for Spring Break or when the class is officially over and when I’ll have to talk to my professor again on the phone. {Shrug} But I plan on sending him what new things I type up this weekend and send it to him. I’m just not sure that all in all, everything will be at the right page length. Sigh…

Plus, tonight I’m going out to see my long lost friends who chose a family over all night clubbing. Go figure. But the thing is, Fran is with her husband in Tampa and won’t be back until later tonight (I’m on dog sitting duty, by the way, and have already been over there last night and this morning) so she won’t be going with me. So later on I’m going to have to call my friends up and see when they’re getting downtown and where they plan on parking because I really don’t feel like taking on the scary parking garage on my own.

What else did I have to mention? Oh yes. The Raconteurs put out a new video featuring the cutest guy on the planet. (I swear, I’d love to take that boy home and make him a sandwich.) I’d like to buy the new album but I have to be thrifty and keep my petty cash for silly things like bills and food. I just can’t do it right now. I wonder when they’ll finally schedule an Orlando show date. Last time it was sometime around my birthday so by early fall they should come around.
The Tudors: Season Two has started but I have to wait until Fran can sit and watch it with me. Maybe we’ll exchange this as our regular Thursday night ritual. Hhmm…
Billy Corgan sued Virgin.
And She Wants Revenge plays in Orlando on May 22nd.

Other than that, I think I’m out of things to really talk about right now. Nothing really interesting has happened except for writing, watching TV and listening to music. Same ‘ol same ‘ol. At least now I can end the weekend with a blog update and a night out. Gold star!

Photo credit: lostpedia

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