I was doing a pull in school supplies today at work, and one of my coworkers (a guy named Matt) was saying something about not wanting to work, about it not being worth it. I asked him what he meant, and he said that he was being let go, and that he would only be working for a few more weeks.
And then he mentioned that Spencer, another Target coworker of mine, had already been let go. This completely shocked me. Spencer? Spencer John? He was in a bit of my Target story! He was nice! We had orientation together! He took one of my shifts for me when I couldn't work it! I mean, I didn't know him well at all, but I certainly feel the loss! He just...disappeared! I had no idea that he was even permanently gone!
Matt continued by saying (yeah, this guy's a talker) that Spencer had probably been let go because he was slow. Slow on the zone, maybe. Slow to respond to things. Funny, because I always thought that he was rather willing to help out. Very willing, in fact.
Now, don't get me wrong. I am not criticizing the management at Target in any way, or questioning their judgment. I'm merely sharing my observations, and my general shock at the loss of team members I had worked with and gotten to know.
I realize that all of this is probably even to my benefit. Fewer people on the payroll, better pay for me, I guess. But boy I hate to look at it that way. I would personally rather have the people.
Anyway, what struck me the most was the fact that I could be next. Now, I consider myself to be a good, contributing member of the Target team. I try to respond and help out as quickly as I can, I don't purposefully dawdle on breaks, I give great guest service (mainly because I simply love chatting with people), and I make good time on the zones (although sometimes I get a little O.C.D. and spend more time arranging things than is probably necessary).
It's easy to play myself up, and I don't want to sound too self-righteous, but I'll just say that the reason I put so much effort in at work is because I constantly remind myself that I'm getting paid. It's my job. I enjoy it, I take pride in doing well, but I'm also getting $8.00 an hour, and I need to make that $8.00 worth it. Not only to me, but to the person who is shelling it out in my paycheck every fortnight.
Gosh, I hope I don't get let go. Honestly, though, it wouldn't even make much sense for them to fire me. I only have a few weeks of work left before I go off to school, and after that I'll only be an asset; I won't be on the payroll except for Christmas and the other main, busy holidays. I'll give them the extra manpower they need without taking too much pay away from everyone else. That's the way I see it, at least.
Okay that was part one of The Axe Has Fallen.
Here's part two:
My good friend Ben (one of my best friends at Morris) will not be coming back to UMM next year. I'm mentioning this not because I know he'll probably read it (Hi Ben), but because this news is really bringing me down, and if I want my blog to reflect the impactful things in my life (which I do), then I can't leave things like this out.
So here we go.
The Top 9 Things I'm Going To Miss Most About Having Ben at UMM:
1. The whistling. You can hear Ben coming from a long way off because he's constantly whistling (or singing or humming).
2. His laugh. Again, you can hear it for quite a ways. Makes him easy to find.
3. Having mysterious messages/drawings appear on my whiteboard.
4. We were going to take/suffer through German I together!
5. He's always up for going on a walk somewhere, whether it be to Pamida, the Student Center, or the Humanities Building (where he waited with me for like 30 minutes just so I could get advised).
6. Somehow Ben always knows everything about everyone. He's not particularly nosy; people just feel comfortable telling him things. He's like a well of secrets (which comes in handy a lot, take my word for it).
7. Watching Survivor! I hate to admit it, but he definitely remembers more about past seasons than I do, although we both agree that Rupert is the best Survivor of all time.
8. Just generally having such a good friend around, one who's always willing to listen, who gives great advice, and who will tell it to you straight up when you need him to.
9. I only have one eyeball, and it's for you! (sorry-inside joke)
Okay this is making me sad. It's not like he's dying or anything.
Now is the time when I have to embrace my new mantra: everything happens for a reason, and a lot of the time it happens for the best. There's a reason for this, which will hopefully become clear very soon. In the meantime, I'll be saving all of my best trips, falls, spills, etc. until we hang out again.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
Four Parts: Quote, Deep Thought, Deep Quote, and Random List
We begin with a quote:
"Most days of the year are unremarkable. They begin and they end with no lasting memory made in between. Most days have no impact on the course of a life."
We proceed with a deep thought stemming from the above quote:
Today was Monday, July 26, 2010. My cousin Kara's 10th birthday.
A lot of things happened to me today, most of which were probably unremarkable.
A mosquito bit me as I rode in the backseat of my mom's minivan. I slapped at at and it disappeared.
I went to the dentist.
I went to the Dairy Queen with my mother, sister, and my cousins Kara and Rachel to celebrate Kara's birthday.
Back at home, I ate dinner with my family, and then settled down to watch 500 Days of Summer.
Mundane stuff, I thought at the time. I still think now. But you know, every second of today I was alive and doing something. Every second was a second I'll never ever have again. That mosquito slap could have blown my chance at true love. That trip to the dentist could have saved me from being hit by a car and killed. If I had watched a different movie, I probably would be posting about something very different right now.
We continue with an original deep quote stemming from the above deep thought:
Life is a culmination of all the seconds we have; how we spend them, how we don't spend them, and how we plan on spending them differently tomorrow.
We end with a list that has nothing to do with the above quotes or thoughts:
My 10 Favorite Songs of All Time:
1. We're Going to Be Friends (The White Stripes)
2. I'm Gonna Be (The Proclaimers)
3. Vagabond (Wolfmother)
4. Classical Gas (Mason Williams)
5. All My Days (Alexi Murdoch)
6. Change Your Mind (The Killers)
7. Brother Love's Traveling Salvation Show (Neil Diamond)
8. In My Life (The Beatles)
9. Breakfast At Tiffany's (Deep Blue Something)
10.If I Ever Leave This World Alive (Flogging Molly)
"Most days of the year are unremarkable. They begin and they end with no lasting memory made in between. Most days have no impact on the course of a life."
We proceed with a deep thought stemming from the above quote:
Today was Monday, July 26, 2010. My cousin Kara's 10th birthday.
A lot of things happened to me today, most of which were probably unremarkable.
A mosquito bit me as I rode in the backseat of my mom's minivan. I slapped at at and it disappeared.
I went to the dentist.
I went to the Dairy Queen with my mother, sister, and my cousins Kara and Rachel to celebrate Kara's birthday.
Back at home, I ate dinner with my family, and then settled down to watch 500 Days of Summer.
Mundane stuff, I thought at the time. I still think now. But you know, every second of today I was alive and doing something. Every second was a second I'll never ever have again. That mosquito slap could have blown my chance at true love. That trip to the dentist could have saved me from being hit by a car and killed. If I had watched a different movie, I probably would be posting about something very different right now.
We continue with an original deep quote stemming from the above deep thought:
Life is a culmination of all the seconds we have; how we spend them, how we don't spend them, and how we plan on spending them differently tomorrow.
We end with a list that has nothing to do with the above quotes or thoughts:
My 10 Favorite Songs of All Time:
1. We're Going to Be Friends (The White Stripes)
2. I'm Gonna Be (The Proclaimers)
3. Vagabond (Wolfmother)
4. Classical Gas (Mason Williams)
5. All My Days (Alexi Murdoch)
6. Change Your Mind (The Killers)
7. Brother Love's Traveling Salvation Show (Neil Diamond)
8. In My Life (The Beatles)
9. Breakfast At Tiffany's (Deep Blue Something)
10.If I Ever Leave This World Alive (Flogging Molly)
Saturday, July 24, 2010
In a Nutshell
Only two days left in July's firstlinefiction contest. I've had my entry written for about three weeks, and turned in for about one week, but I'm still second guessing myself a little bit. I don't know why this is exactly; I'm hoping it's because I've been thinking about it for so long that I'm simply getting paranoid. No matter, though. There is not much of a chance that I'll find time to change anything in the next two days: I'm absolutely busy between dentist trauma on Monday and work on Tuesday.
Today I was randomly remembering an incident that happened at a long ago Christmas party, and I thought I'd share it with you.
Like I said, I was at a Christmas party, and I was eating nuts out of a dish sitting on the festively-decorated table. Only, I wasn't eating all the nuts. There was quite a variety in the dish; macadamias and almonds and some unidentifiable ones as well, and, being eight years old or so, I was skillfully avoiding all of the gross nuts and picking out the cashews. I wasn't doing this ridiculously, I didn't think; there were still plenty of cashews left for the other finicky children (and adults). I was surprised, then, when all of the sudden my grandpa came over and scolded me harshly for only taking cashews. I remember I started crying because I was embarassed and because grandpa had never yelled at me like that before.
Later he pulled me aside and said that he was sorry, but that Carolyn (married to my aunt's brother) had been glaring at me and was clearly upset at my nut dish pickings. I forgave grandpa, of course; he was really just trying to warn me to stop before Carolyn (who I didn't know very well) felt compelled to come over and tell me off.
And you know what? To this day, I don't like Carolyn very much at all. I haven't seen her in a few years, but I've always thought that someone stingy enough to get upset about a little kid sorting through a nut dish isn't someone I want to associate with.
It's funny how impressionable you are as a kid, and how some grudges, no matter how trivial, never really leave you.
Today I was randomly remembering an incident that happened at a long ago Christmas party, and I thought I'd share it with you.
Like I said, I was at a Christmas party, and I was eating nuts out of a dish sitting on the festively-decorated table. Only, I wasn't eating all the nuts. There was quite a variety in the dish; macadamias and almonds and some unidentifiable ones as well, and, being eight years old or so, I was skillfully avoiding all of the gross nuts and picking out the cashews. I wasn't doing this ridiculously, I didn't think; there were still plenty of cashews left for the other finicky children (and adults). I was surprised, then, when all of the sudden my grandpa came over and scolded me harshly for only taking cashews. I remember I started crying because I was embarassed and because grandpa had never yelled at me like that before.
Later he pulled me aside and said that he was sorry, but that Carolyn (married to my aunt's brother) had been glaring at me and was clearly upset at my nut dish pickings. I forgave grandpa, of course; he was really just trying to warn me to stop before Carolyn (who I didn't know very well) felt compelled to come over and tell me off.
And you know what? To this day, I don't like Carolyn very much at all. I haven't seen her in a few years, but I've always thought that someone stingy enough to get upset about a little kid sorting through a nut dish isn't someone I want to associate with.
It's funny how impressionable you are as a kid, and how some grudges, no matter how trivial, never really leave you.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Just a Phase
I am very good at not finishing stories. Exceptionally good, in fact. Sometimes my lack of follow-through bothers me, but most of the time I see it as a natural part of writing; you lose interest in the things that aren't special, and you move on to other things that have the potential to mean a lot to you. I go through writing phases the same way I go through music phases and movie phases and "I'm going to match my toenail polish to my fingernail polish" phases.
So when (after a week or so) I stopped being excited about my Target story, I wasn't too upset. Don't get me wrong-I think parts of it are really good, and there's always a chance that I'll go back and finish it someday, but for now I have all my creative juices funneling towards another project.
The project? Write a love story. A happy, sappy love story that is original and fulfilling at the same time.
Why this particular mission? Well, the story I wrote for the firstlinefiction contest is quite sad. One of my friends read it over for me, and he said that to balance the gloom, I should try for a romance.
Okay. Easy. No problem.
Not so much.
I'm beginning to think that writing a love story is harder than writing any other type of story, because you have to dodge the cliches that have been thrown at you practically since birth, while at the same time maintaining enough cliche to make the story believeable. Tough stuff.
I've been thinking about it for a few weeks now, and I still haven't come up with a really good idea. Hopefully one hits before I go back to school, because at that point all short story writing (and most pleasure reading) will cease unavoidably. Depressing, isn't it?
Anyway, I thought that I'd give you a bit more of that Target story. Totally, it's about 3 pages long, and is written in the form of a bunch of different scenes that I was hoping to tie together somehow sometime.
I walkied as I left the break room: “This is Holly. I’m back from my fifteen and swinging through electronics.” Electronics was an important guest service area for Target. Whenever a team member began work for the day or returned from a break, they were supposed to walk through the department and ask any guest they saw if they needed help finding something. It kept our guest service ratings in the green, our GPS’s and TV’s selling, and our bodies circulating. Our red shirts radiated availability like monkeys in estrous.
As I hoofed it around the accessories displays towards the wall of flashing flat screens at the back of the store, I spotted Sarah Berg down a shoe aisle, madly grabbing at the piles of sandals strewn across the floor, and tossing them into their respective boxes.
The phone rang from the operator’s desk. Sarah jumped up and sprinted towards it, muttering as she flew past me, “I’m really fucking things up, Holly.” I clucked my tongue in pity, deciding not to lie and say that she was doing fine.
I had heard the conversation earlier over the walkie. Sarah, who was fitting room operator for the day, was going too slowly on her zone. She had been taking her time with the shoes, arranging them meticulously and forgetting that she still had yet to go through baby and men’s. Kristin had chewed her out as politely as one could be chewed out, but the fact that all team members could hear it over their walkies made Sarah’s face burn red as she ran.
Sarah and I had gone to high school together. We had spent an entire year sitting next to each other in two different English classes. Whenever a paper was handed back to us, Sarah would first check her own, and then not-so-subtly bob her head over to check my paper. If my grade was lower than hers, she would cluck her tongue softly, grin a self-satisfied smile, and promptly talk about something else as if she were Wilbur and ‘humble’ was strung into the web above her sty. If my grade was higher, however, her mouth would gape and her desk would be empty in a flash as she danced up to complain to Mr. Manske or Mrs. Nelson about her unfairly low grade. Hiding my graded paper didn’t help, either. Sarah would simply ask me straight out, her ostentatiously blue eyes innocently daring me not to share.
It had been a large shock, then, to walk into my first day of work to find Sarah waiting by the food court wearing red and khaki.
I continued on towards electronics, spotting out of the corner of my eye a pair of stray white flats peeking out from under an endcap. That’s a B+, Sarah.
Kyle was manning the boat, surrounded by cameras and guests looking at cameras and trying to get his attention as they clutched cameras. He didn’t look up as I passed. I had hoped that he would be one of the team members to train me in when I first started work, but no such luck. He had trained Sarah in hardlines; his lean form easily striding ahead of her petite blondeness as they toured the store.
He was quiet, I surmised. Once I had entered the break room to find him staring at the TV, which had frozen into multicolored squares. “This is some riveting television,” I had joked. Silence. Then I thought I heard him say, very softly and very sarcastically, “I can’t tear my eyes away.” Later I decided I had imagined it.
A guest flagged me down by the ipods. “Ma’am!” I always hated being called ma’am. A nineteen-year-old was nowhere near being a ma’am. Ma’ams were middle aged and wore ankle-length capris and short hair with highlights. I got a glimpse of myself in the reflective ipod case while the woman debated over which color nano she should get. My face was as childishly round as ever. My hair had frizzled into annoying ringlets on my forehead, which I tried to smooth down and tuck behind my ears, to no avail.
“The green is rather pretty.”
Kyle was reflected over my shoulder. He was talking to an older gentleman by the phones.
“But black won’t get dirty so easily.”
Kyle’s face didn’t hold the earnest look I caught so often on my own visage; he looked nonchalant as he listened to the man’s wheezy questions, although his eyes were bright.
“What do you think, ma’am?”
I started and looked back at the woman, aware that Kyle was watching us from the suddenly empty boat. “Red. Definitely red,” I flashed a toothy smile, “But I might be a bit biased.”
The woman laughed and decided on the green ipod. Kyle came over to unlock the case without speaking.
So when (after a week or so) I stopped being excited about my Target story, I wasn't too upset. Don't get me wrong-I think parts of it are really good, and there's always a chance that I'll go back and finish it someday, but for now I have all my creative juices funneling towards another project.
The project? Write a love story. A happy, sappy love story that is original and fulfilling at the same time.
Why this particular mission? Well, the story I wrote for the firstlinefiction contest is quite sad. One of my friends read it over for me, and he said that to balance the gloom, I should try for a romance.
Okay. Easy. No problem.
Not so much.
I'm beginning to think that writing a love story is harder than writing any other type of story, because you have to dodge the cliches that have been thrown at you practically since birth, while at the same time maintaining enough cliche to make the story believeable. Tough stuff.
I've been thinking about it for a few weeks now, and I still haven't come up with a really good idea. Hopefully one hits before I go back to school, because at that point all short story writing (and most pleasure reading) will cease unavoidably. Depressing, isn't it?
Anyway, I thought that I'd give you a bit more of that Target story. Totally, it's about 3 pages long, and is written in the form of a bunch of different scenes that I was hoping to tie together somehow sometime.
I walkied as I left the break room: “This is Holly. I’m back from my fifteen and swinging through electronics.” Electronics was an important guest service area for Target. Whenever a team member began work for the day or returned from a break, they were supposed to walk through the department and ask any guest they saw if they needed help finding something. It kept our guest service ratings in the green, our GPS’s and TV’s selling, and our bodies circulating. Our red shirts radiated availability like monkeys in estrous.
As I hoofed it around the accessories displays towards the wall of flashing flat screens at the back of the store, I spotted Sarah Berg down a shoe aisle, madly grabbing at the piles of sandals strewn across the floor, and tossing them into their respective boxes.
The phone rang from the operator’s desk. Sarah jumped up and sprinted towards it, muttering as she flew past me, “I’m really fucking things up, Holly.” I clucked my tongue in pity, deciding not to lie and say that she was doing fine.
I had heard the conversation earlier over the walkie. Sarah, who was fitting room operator for the day, was going too slowly on her zone. She had been taking her time with the shoes, arranging them meticulously and forgetting that she still had yet to go through baby and men’s. Kristin had chewed her out as politely as one could be chewed out, but the fact that all team members could hear it over their walkies made Sarah’s face burn red as she ran.
Sarah and I had gone to high school together. We had spent an entire year sitting next to each other in two different English classes. Whenever a paper was handed back to us, Sarah would first check her own, and then not-so-subtly bob her head over to check my paper. If my grade was lower than hers, she would cluck her tongue softly, grin a self-satisfied smile, and promptly talk about something else as if she were Wilbur and ‘humble’ was strung into the web above her sty. If my grade was higher, however, her mouth would gape and her desk would be empty in a flash as she danced up to complain to Mr. Manske or Mrs. Nelson about her unfairly low grade. Hiding my graded paper didn’t help, either. Sarah would simply ask me straight out, her ostentatiously blue eyes innocently daring me not to share.
It had been a large shock, then, to walk into my first day of work to find Sarah waiting by the food court wearing red and khaki.
I continued on towards electronics, spotting out of the corner of my eye a pair of stray white flats peeking out from under an endcap. That’s a B+, Sarah.
Kyle was manning the boat, surrounded by cameras and guests looking at cameras and trying to get his attention as they clutched cameras. He didn’t look up as I passed. I had hoped that he would be one of the team members to train me in when I first started work, but no such luck. He had trained Sarah in hardlines; his lean form easily striding ahead of her petite blondeness as they toured the store.
He was quiet, I surmised. Once I had entered the break room to find him staring at the TV, which had frozen into multicolored squares. “This is some riveting television,” I had joked. Silence. Then I thought I heard him say, very softly and very sarcastically, “I can’t tear my eyes away.” Later I decided I had imagined it.
A guest flagged me down by the ipods. “Ma’am!” I always hated being called ma’am. A nineteen-year-old was nowhere near being a ma’am. Ma’ams were middle aged and wore ankle-length capris and short hair with highlights. I got a glimpse of myself in the reflective ipod case while the woman debated over which color nano she should get. My face was as childishly round as ever. My hair had frizzled into annoying ringlets on my forehead, which I tried to smooth down and tuck behind my ears, to no avail.
“The green is rather pretty.”
Kyle was reflected over my shoulder. He was talking to an older gentleman by the phones.
“But black won’t get dirty so easily.”
Kyle’s face didn’t hold the earnest look I caught so often on my own visage; he looked nonchalant as he listened to the man’s wheezy questions, although his eyes were bright.
“What do you think, ma’am?”
I started and looked back at the woman, aware that Kyle was watching us from the suddenly empty boat. “Red. Definitely red,” I flashed a toothy smile, “But I might be a bit biased.”
The woman laughed and decided on the green ipod. Kyle came over to unlock the case without speaking.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Post Work Injury Log
I got a bit beaten down by work today (quite literally). All of the beatings did not, contrary to popular opinion, stem from me provoking certain abusive members of the Target team. No, they stemmed purely from a lack of sleep and the resulting clumsiness.
I figure it this way: when I'm tired, I get cranky. When I'm absolutely exhausted, not only is my already existing awkwardness amped up by about one million points, but my clumsiness is as well. I need to start counting sheep or something, because I do not need to get bumped around again like I did today.
Here are the injuries:
1. While putting up signs in the infant aisles, I was having trouble jamming a particularly stubborn metal bar into its slot. I was up on a step stool, I was sweating a bit because the store wasn't open yet so the air conditioning wasn't on, and I was really having trouble with this bar. I think I was actually talking to it. Don't laugh, but it was something like, "you and I both know that you need to just work with me here. If you don't snap into this slot right now I'm going to throw you in the trash. How would you like that? Huh?" Needless to say, the bar responded quickly to my threat and locked into place.
Unfortunately, it took its revenge on me in the process. The skin on my thumb somehow got pinched in between the fixture and the peg board, and a blood blister the size of a tick rapidly formed.
This was the point in the day when all of the tiredness almost crashed down around my head, and I almost sank down onto the floor of the infant aisle and sobbed. The blood blister was gross, it hurt a lot as well, I wanted to go to bed, I was hot, and break wasn't for a whole thirty minutes. It would have been a good aisle to cry in, I'll admit, but nevertheless I managed to man up (so to speak) and keep plugging away.
2. Injury number two was a little bit less dramatic. I was stepping down off the step stool and I bumped my knee on the way down. It actually wasn't a hard bump or anything; it was just a bump in a painful spot. It swelled up, and I'm fairly sure that I'll have a nice bruise to show off for tomorrow.
You know, this has been a whiney post, hasn't it? I really do love my job, so here are some positives:
Good Things That Happened to Me at Work Today:
1. Someone gave me a high five.
2. A customer in electronics needed some help that I wasn't able to give (I know about some technology, but I don't know much about TVs, unfortunately), so while we waited for the real electronics guru to come, we had a really great chat. I'm not one of those people who will just strike up conversations with random strangers (although many members of my family do indeed have that gift), but I do like talking to people.
3. I had a definite bonding moment with a team member that I've judged rather harshly in the past.
4. I got to check out the new market area that's finally been unveiled. It looks great, and it's wonderful to be able to see the product of the remodel team's hard work.
5. I overheard some adults swear rather graphically. I think maybe I looked startled, because they apologized profusely, but afterwards I went into the back room and laughed.
6. I remembered to turn off my car headlights! Yes!
That's all for now. I bought the movie Creation (newer film about Charles Darwin and his wife, starring Paul Bettany (one of my very favorite people) and Jennifer Connelly (his actual real-life wife, which I think is awesome)) after work today. I felt sort of bad spending my school money on something like a movie, but I knew that I would have to buy it eventually anyway. I'm a sucker for period dramas.
Anyway, I think I'm going to put away Jane Eyre for a bit (on page 350!) and get my natural selection on (wow not literally).
I figure it this way: when I'm tired, I get cranky. When I'm absolutely exhausted, not only is my already existing awkwardness amped up by about one million points, but my clumsiness is as well. I need to start counting sheep or something, because I do not need to get bumped around again like I did today.
Here are the injuries:
1. While putting up signs in the infant aisles, I was having trouble jamming a particularly stubborn metal bar into its slot. I was up on a step stool, I was sweating a bit because the store wasn't open yet so the air conditioning wasn't on, and I was really having trouble with this bar. I think I was actually talking to it. Don't laugh, but it was something like, "you and I both know that you need to just work with me here. If you don't snap into this slot right now I'm going to throw you in the trash. How would you like that? Huh?" Needless to say, the bar responded quickly to my threat and locked into place.
Unfortunately, it took its revenge on me in the process. The skin on my thumb somehow got pinched in between the fixture and the peg board, and a blood blister the size of a tick rapidly formed.
This was the point in the day when all of the tiredness almost crashed down around my head, and I almost sank down onto the floor of the infant aisle and sobbed. The blood blister was gross, it hurt a lot as well, I wanted to go to bed, I was hot, and break wasn't for a whole thirty minutes. It would have been a good aisle to cry in, I'll admit, but nevertheless I managed to man up (so to speak) and keep plugging away.
2. Injury number two was a little bit less dramatic. I was stepping down off the step stool and I bumped my knee on the way down. It actually wasn't a hard bump or anything; it was just a bump in a painful spot. It swelled up, and I'm fairly sure that I'll have a nice bruise to show off for tomorrow.
You know, this has been a whiney post, hasn't it? I really do love my job, so here are some positives:
Good Things That Happened to Me at Work Today:
1. Someone gave me a high five.
2. A customer in electronics needed some help that I wasn't able to give (I know about some technology, but I don't know much about TVs, unfortunately), so while we waited for the real electronics guru to come, we had a really great chat. I'm not one of those people who will just strike up conversations with random strangers (although many members of my family do indeed have that gift), but I do like talking to people.
3. I had a definite bonding moment with a team member that I've judged rather harshly in the past.
4. I got to check out the new market area that's finally been unveiled. It looks great, and it's wonderful to be able to see the product of the remodel team's hard work.
5. I overheard some adults swear rather graphically. I think maybe I looked startled, because they apologized profusely, but afterwards I went into the back room and laughed.
6. I remembered to turn off my car headlights! Yes!
That's all for now. I bought the movie Creation (newer film about Charles Darwin and his wife, starring Paul Bettany (one of my very favorite people) and Jennifer Connelly (his actual real-life wife, which I think is awesome)) after work today. I felt sort of bad spending my school money on something like a movie, but I knew that I would have to buy it eventually anyway. I'm a sucker for period dramas.
Anyway, I think I'm going to put away Jane Eyre for a bit (on page 350!) and get my natural selection on (wow not literally).
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Book Buying Money Spending Adventures
As of today I officially have less than a month left of summer left before school starts. Incredible, isn't it? My reactions to this realization have been varied, and range from "Yes!!! School!!!!" to "Holy cow I have so many books I want to get through before going back!" to "I'm going to miss working at Target" to "Wow I have some serious back-to-school shopping to do."
The aforementioned back-to-school shopping begins now, actually. I'm about to hit Amazon.com to buy my books.
Now, for anyone who is heading off to college for the first time this fall, or even for anyone who has been in college for a while and hasn't yet tried ordering books online, I would highly recommend it.
Not only because you save A TON of money (last semester I saved upwards of $200 buying my books off Amazon) by using an alternative to the famously expensive College Bookstore, but you avoid the long lines, the sometimes sold-out shelves, and the general stress of attempting to buy books the day before classes start. In my opinion (although I am, admittedly, a bit of a nerd), it's also fun to be able to page through your books ahead of time. And getting mail is always great, right?
Despite my obvious excitement over this whole book-buying undertaking, I have to say that it is difficult for me to spend so much of my hard earned working-early-Target-shifts money in just one evening. I do have three jobs waiting for me at Morris, however, so it's certainly good to know that there is more money yet to be earned this year.
Here are said jobs (because I don't think I've told you about two of them yet)
1. Information Desk in Student Center
2. Administrative Intern in the Social Sciences Office
3. Tutor in the Writing Room of Briggs Library
Okay, I'm venturing out into Amazon now. Wish me luck!
P.S. On page 256 of Jane Eyre. Seems like it's finally getting its act together and turning into a the classic romance I've heard so much about.
The aforementioned back-to-school shopping begins now, actually. I'm about to hit Amazon.com to buy my books.
Now, for anyone who is heading off to college for the first time this fall, or even for anyone who has been in college for a while and hasn't yet tried ordering books online, I would highly recommend it.
Not only because you save A TON of money (last semester I saved upwards of $200 buying my books off Amazon) by using an alternative to the famously expensive College Bookstore, but you avoid the long lines, the sometimes sold-out shelves, and the general stress of attempting to buy books the day before classes start. In my opinion (although I am, admittedly, a bit of a nerd), it's also fun to be able to page through your books ahead of time. And getting mail is always great, right?
Despite my obvious excitement over this whole book-buying undertaking, I have to say that it is difficult for me to spend so much of my hard earned working-early-Target-shifts money in just one evening. I do have three jobs waiting for me at Morris, however, so it's certainly good to know that there is more money yet to be earned this year.
Here are said jobs (because I don't think I've told you about two of them yet)
1. Information Desk in Student Center
2. Administrative Intern in the Social Sciences Office
3. Tutor in the Writing Room of Briggs Library
Okay, I'm venturing out into Amazon now. Wish me luck!
P.S. On page 256 of Jane Eyre. Seems like it's finally getting its act together and turning into a the classic romance I've heard so much about.
An Explicit Story in Poem Form
Because how else do you tell a story like this?
Como Zoo Afternoon
Lions and Tigers, no bears
Rain fell
Eventually
Eventually also, we left.
On our street,
Dewy with rain
Shone the cars in the neighbors' drive.
On their mailbox fluttered
Gaudily, shockingly,
A cluster of balloons.
One long tan one in the middle
Two round blue ones on either side.
My sister, seventeen and innocent,
looked at the balloons,
then at Mom in the rearview.
"Are they having a baby shower?"
Como Zoo Afternoon
Lions and Tigers, no bears
Rain fell
Eventually
Eventually also, we left.
On our street,
Dewy with rain
Shone the cars in the neighbors' drive.
On their mailbox fluttered
Gaudily, shockingly,
A cluster of balloons.
One long tan one in the middle
Two round blue ones on either side.
My sister, seventeen and innocent,
looked at the balloons,
then at Mom in the rearview.
"Are they having a baby shower?"
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