Day 80, or something...

I want this to be over. I want to be writing about something else now. I want to have a life. I had yet another interview on Wednesday, this job I actually want. One can only hope that nothing stupid came out of my mouth. I don't believe anything did, but it was a group interview and alot of dumb things came out of alot of people's mouths in that room. It's good to know I'm not the only screw-up in job interviews, though. You think you said something stupid, the guy next to you is right on that train to stupidville next to you, probably in first class. Group interviews are weird, but a good learning experience. Hopefully I win out over Mr. 22-year-old pyschologist/mercenary packed full of Jesus who changed schools because he prefers people with English as their first language (University of Alberta was too multi-cultural for him, maybe too many "eastern" Canadian accents confused him), but jackass's like that are probably what they're looking for. I can always hope that he didn't mean most of what he said, but that still doesn't take away the fact he goes around knocking on people's doors and tries to convert them to Christianity. Yeah, a little too much information, don't you think???!!!

Well, off to Ontario on Monday for a visit. I've been missing the writing alot lately and probably won't be writing much in Ontario, either. I just want to be able to tell everyone I got the job, nothing else seems to matter right now. Although traveling with a one-way ticket is always exciting, I hate having to read calendars and clocks, but I really want to be able to say that I'm going to be back in Edmonton in a couple of weeks to start my dream job. Cross your fingers for me. I'll write again tommorrow. Oh, the word on the street is that my nephews have a pretty large-scale scam waiting for me in Ontario. Poor little dudes, they haven't a clue what "unemployed" actually means. Well, it means cheap go-karting, a bag of pennies, and gorge hiking. Hopefully I don't lose my awesome aunt status over lack of Nintendo DSI funds.

Day 79: Why Is George Foreman Selling Cleaning Products Now?

Really, why IS George Foreman selling cleaning products.

Sooooo, my mom is so right, always right. I bought a plane ticket to go visit her next week (seat sales always get me, some girls like their shoes, I like my seat sales), she said that that would guarantee me a job offer in the short, foreseeable future. She was absolutely right. I received two phone interviews this morning, and a second job interview on Wednesday. Hopefully I don't screw it up, but things are looking pretty good. Both jobs are in community services so I'll be happy this time. Not so rich, but that really doesn't matter anymore. Money can only buy happiness in a shopping mall. I just won't go into any shopping malls for a while. Still going to Ontario to visit, though.

Even the volunteer job came through this morning. Looks like I can choose my training start date, either in May or September. Nothing like working a crisis hotline to make me realize how normal my life actually is. I'll go for the September start and probably work the summer at one of the shelters. Going to be an amazing summer here in Edmonton, and I'm so thankful that I can actually say that again. I was getting kind of worried. Kind of. HA. Like melting-into-my-couch-crying-and tossing-my-cookies kind of worried. Edmonton can be a downright s***hole if your unemployed, but I guess I'm only saying that because my mom isn't here. Never underestimate the power of the mom. She made Hamilton almost bareable for me all those years. And that's an impossible thing to do.

We were just talking about our childhoods the other day. I try not to brag, but Hamilton is seemingly the worst city on earth. I say that with love. Honestly. But also because I don't want to be yelled at by my three best friends still living there when I go home to visit. Way back when my parents immigrated to Canada, Ontario was the boom province. Hamilton had the majority of the industry, tradesmen being recruited from all over Europe and the UK to work for what was pretty good money at the time. My dad loved it there (I don't think he ever got to see the three-eyed carp in the lake like I did) because industry had died in the UK. I guess that's why I love Edmonton so much, Ontario industry died and Edmonton opened the door for me. You can walk in anywhere and get a job here. It's getting out that's the problem. 40 hours turns into 80 hours pretty quickly and most people out here just think work is a place to go to get away from your wife/husband. Some Albertans have both. You do learn to get choosey about your jobs eventually, and the guys/girls you date out here. I've had some pret-ty uncomfortable moments in the past year. But nobody died or went to jail, so, all good.

Foreigner in a foreign land. Yup. I think that's the only thing that gets me down. People around here think that if your from out-of-province, you're a foreigner. I don't think Albertans realize that a passport is NOT required to go to Newfoundland. And I say that with love. Most of the time. Anyone from east of Manitoba is a "damn easterner" to some, though, and that kind of pisses me off. I'm not damned. And hell, I think I have it bad, one of my best friends here is of Indian decent, born in Kenya, and Kenyan citizenship. They don't even know what to do with him. So we sing songs. You can't beat up someone singing, at least nobody has tried yet.

So, I am almost finished with this unemployment roller coaster ride. Three months, everyone, three months. Three months of crying, screaming, drinking, and random other acts of weirdness I cannot repeat here. But also three months of an unwaivering will to get my life right this time. To start being an adult and making real decisions, and accept who I am. About freaking time, what, did I just put my brain on a shelf somewhere when I finished high school and decided that I did't need it anymore? Well, knowing me, probably. And then I probably tried to replace it with the brain of a monkey. The five years after high school are kind of fuzzy to me. But that's another story.

Day 76 to 78: Tax Time to Boob Quake, Busy Busy Busy

Yeah. It's been a few days. Didn't want to bore anyone with the details of my tax return experience. By the way, it's free to calculate on www.taxchopper.ca and only $9.95 to efile through them. Got that from a pretty reliable source. Turns out taxes are pretty simple to do, just wish I figured that out before I stared blankly at WTIB and WTF and LMAO forms that only pertain to maybe five people in this country for three days. And mom, don't taunt me, I know my brother can do it and has been doing it for years and so should I be able to. But NOT helping.

Ah, well, the pay-off is good. Sat on Whyte Ave tonight, drank some wine. Unfortunately, I've been reduced to sitting on my friend's balcony drinking their wine and saving the straws and spitballs for the roof later on. Despite how unresponsive certain individuals staggering along Whyte Ave. appear to be, they always can figure out what balcony the spitballs are coming from.

So, tax time over, what do I do now? I could yell and scream and then go cry on my couch again, but those days are wearing thin. Time for a little bit of action, man. I've set my sights on some volunteer work to prepare myself for the horrors of re-entering the working world. Besides, I figure I'll be the prettiest one at the soup kitchen and that will make me feel better about myself - disturbingly so. Applied to Grant MacEwan as a failsafe, don't want to be floundering in September and be like, woulda coulda shoulda. I'll just implode if that happens. I'm also at peace with my decision to go into social work, it's been almost two weeks and I haven't changed my mind. That is earth-shattering news coming from me. I can't decide on a Mac and Cheese in the grocery store - spirals? shells? original? and then I change my mind the minute I get to my car. It eats me up inside. What if I don't want original when I get home? Now I'm stuck with it. Life sucks. So this is good news, I've reached a more stable stage of my unemployment.

My inability to eat for the last two weeks has lost me a reasonable 10lbs. I'm good with that. I was hoping for more, but I can't afford new clothes, anyway. Even if I do get a few extra dollars to spend, I go right to the lingerie shop. Oh, hey, that reminds me, don't forget 4/26 (tommorrow) is Boob Quake!!! Some bloggers did really well in setting this one up (so jealous) and it kind of gives me my faith back in social change. I guess in hindsight that was probably pretty easy, it seems like everyone loves boobs. Social change via boobies. Nice. So, everyone, male and females (I don't discriminate), dress slutty tommorrow, take a picture, and post it as your profile pic on FB. And just hope a disaster doesn't coincidentally occur, or the point will be lost on those few individuals in society we are trying to prove to that boobs are actually not weapons. Hell, I've tried to take over small countries myself with mine, but it never worked.

Ah, don't hate on Islam, just hate on the individuals that misrepresent spirituality in general and ignore the deeper purpose of it. We are all entitled to our cultural upbringing. Some people just forget what century we're in. Maybe next time the BBC will harp on something stupid a catholic priest said. Then we could run around with our pants off with good reason. What I would do to be a fly on the wall in the Vatican...

Day 75: Social Prison

I don't subscribe to social norms. I believe they only exist because we allow them to exist. I don't think I even have the ability to adhere to them. If I don't have any clean socks, I don't wear socks. If I don't have any clean underwear, I don't wear them either. There is nothing more liberating than not wearing any underwear, by the way. I mean, I recommend wearing them, it's sanitary, but if you don't have any clean ones left, it's alot less sanitary to wear dirty ones. When you're having a bad day at work and your boss is reaming you out, it's almost soothing - Yes, I understand your concerned about Mr. F's dog, and yes, I should have told the pilots to turn the heat on in the luggage compartment, but I didn't, and I'm not wearing any underwear. Smile stupidly now.

When I know what I want, I don't faulter. Knowing what you want and being honest about it, it's as liberating as walking around commando. But I have no concept of time. I become overly focused. I've already established the fact that I have no concept of what is "normal" or what I should be saying or doing at any particular time. Strange things come out of my mouth, words and paper and foam, whatever.

Why do I do it? Well, I believe I could be insane. There's no other reasoning except that maybe I was actually brought up by wild animals and my parents just felt sorry for me and told me they misplaced me for a few years. I'd understand, they don't have to lie to me. That would explain sooo much...

Day 74: Just Say No

Busy week, I guess three months of jobhunting is starting to pay off. However, many of the jobs that I applied for were by mistake or by desperation. So I've been practising my "no's" this morning, "No, I am not able to fly to Hong Kong tomorrow for a nanny position." (that's just a prostitution ring waiting to be discovered, no?!) "No, I am not a medical doctor and I cannot do heart surgery but I did go to the hospital once. To visit." "Unfortunately, I do not have military experience and despite what my resume says, I cannot shoot a gun.".

I guess I'm a little intense. Or alot intense. It's just when there's something that needs to get done, I have to do it. If there's something I want, I do anything I can to get it. I'm like that wind-up toy wound up too tight. I eventually wear down, but it takes a while. A wound-up too tight jack russell terrier wind-up toy. Annoying for many, I'm sure. However, I said yesterday that I won't apologize for the way I am anymore. And if you've got something I want, well, good luck with that, there will be alot of running involved, and possibly small animals being tread on.

The only confusing times for me and many around me is when I don't know what I want. That's what it's been like for the last few months. Someone as intense as me without direction is like letting loose a bull in a china shop. Things get shattered. But then something always snaps in my head, sometimes due to an abundance of alcohol and whatever else that can destroy any life-sustaining organ in my body. I put the bleach bottle away last week (permanently this time, I'm getting too old and tired for this self-loathing, downward spiral), and I'm running this new direction like a high speed train. I'm just deathly afraid the tracks aren't finished where I'm heading. I don't usually plan things out so well, and, well, crashing and burning seem to have been my trademarks in the past. I am looking forward to the change, however, so I'm going to at least enjoy the trip even if it ends through a wall of fire.

Besides, the anxiety of it all is good for the weight loss. I highly recommend life-changing events; they destroy your will to eat. On top of that, I'm feeling kind of bulimic these days, can barely put a toothbrush in my mouth without trying to hold down my cookies. It's about freaking time, man, all those years working in the office, thought I would never see my cute butt again. And really, life is all about the perfect butt. Soon, soon I am so wearing a bikini down Whyte Ave...

Day 73: I Am Me

What's worse than going to a job interview is having to say no to the job in the end. I think I've already mentioned this before. This morning I had to say no to one job and get interviewed for another. I throw up alot when I'm stressed out, too, and today is going to be a stressful day. Oh well. Saves on groceries in the end. It's hard to tell if last weekend was alcohol poisoning (chocolate stout, bleh, really) or stress or both because my week pretty much started out the same, throwing up. I guess I knew this was coming, the interviews and all the decisions. It's just, I feel like I'm going to have a heart attack some days. I want to live!!! After all this is done and over with, I'm never going to move or change jobs or do anything different again.

I'm done, I tell you, done with stress. Although working at a job that isn't right would be more stressful, because you know in the end you have to eventually leave that job. I think my last job was alot like that, I knew I could never please the big guys (that group of people who think money can buy anything, but it really can't, and if you think it can, then your body will eventually be fished out of the bottom of the ocean along with two unfortunate pilots or scraped off the side of a tree on a ski hill). I only stayed for the schedule and the free flights. That eventually disintegrated, too.

No, your job has to be somewhat fun to go to everyday. If I wanted to be the perfect robot, I wouldn't have quit the army reserves after only four months (I got to keep the black face polish and boxers, that was fun until the polish expired and my skin broke out in giant goiters). Some people can do it, I just can't. I need the freedom to check my laces at the most inopportune time. I need the freedom to run backwards or stop and smell the flowers or talk to rabbits. I'm tired of apologizing to people for my retardedness. I say "I'm sorry" within the first 60 seconds of every conversation because I assume I'm doing something wrong. But I am me. I'll always be me. I don't want to spend the rest of my life trying to change that, either.

I am open-minded, however. When things do work, compromise is not so hard. I'll eat the chunky peanut butter this week. But next week, it's got to be the creamy.

Day 72: Rocks in My Head

Seriously. I shook my head this morning, and it rattled. It kind of hurt. I was so not out on the town last night, either. Staying true to my word this week, focusing and settling down a little. It feels kind of warm and fuzzy. Quite the change from my usual ADD OCD jack russell terrier self. I still get my moments randomly throughout the day, however. I mean, I have gravel in my hair. I parked my car, and for some reason (must have been a good reason at the time) I dropped to the ground. I can't remember anything after that. But hey, it happens.

Why go out on the town, anyway, when the best bar in town is on my front step. Beer is a dollar and I can watch the drug deals in the park, see the drunk people walking to their cars and trying to drive away, and talk to bunnies while they dig for roots that aren't there (Note to self - buy carrots, because it's never going to rain again in Edmonton). And my neighbors are the best entertainment of all. You learn ALOT about your neighbors at midnight. Outside. In the dark. And I can watch cable TV through their windows. My roommate and I don't need sound either, because it's more fun making up your own dialogue. An added bonus to that is when you actually do finally watch the TV program with audio later on, it's like watching an entire new episode. However, it is embarrassing sometimes when you tell the ending (like taking candy away from babies, it is my evil desire to tell you the ending every movie that I watched before you) and it's entirely inaccurate. Like in the Titanic, I thought he was just sleeping.

7PM and it's still broad daylight. I forget sometimes why I love Edmonton. Not-winter is one of the things I love. Now that I've decided to stay, all the good things about the city are coming back to me. Decisions are much easier, too, there are alot of opportunities here if I just focus. Not once this week did I check the job postings in Amsterdam. Or Nunavut. Or the Antarctic. Although one day I'm going to see a penguin outside of West Edmonton Mall. And hopefully not because some drunk guy let them all run free in the parking lot. But it is amazing what you can do when you know what you want. I know what I want now, and it almost feels like this roller coaster unemployment trip is about to end. And honestly, I've learned alot, but I deserve a bit of happiness and stability now. I'm at the point in my life, to everyone's great surprise, that I'm really really really ready for that. Going down the road I've always gone down is getting boring. Time for a new road, new scenery, which is this road I'm on, and this scenery. I'm excited. I'm not worried about money anymore (why bother? Life is too short). I know that I'll eventually have the funds and ability to do whatever I want to do later on because I'm kind of good at pulling $$$ out of my arse. I just need the right people and the RIGHT job at this point in my life to get me to that next step.

So, maybe soon I'll have to come up with another blog for you guys. Like how to drive your family and friends crazy in ten days. I'm good at that. Or how to rip the tap out of the counter when the drip turns into a running tap and the landlord has done absolutely F-all about it. That's a best seller right there. Or why gay cyclist cleat boys in the upstairs apartment won't take their cleats off while walking around their apartment. And I hope they're wearing more than their cleats when they're walking around up there, too...