Woe is Miko and the Orientation of Tomorrow.

Yes, you read correctly 'Woe is Miko'. I was watching Roadhouse for the one thousandth, seven-hundred and seventy first time last night and a preview for some soon to come thriller and thought, "What ever happened to that creepy kid from The Pet Semetery?" (I think that's the way it's listed) I never even knew his name, so I googled and searched and there it was Miko John Hughes, yes son of John Hughes. I'd always thought that he must have been about thirty-something by now. Nope. Miko Hughes is 23, uh huh, that creepy kid is now a creepy man. Well, I'm not entirely sure about the creepy part however his Myspace and Blog on this very site (Woeismiko) is headed by a picture of what I can only assume is a 19 to 21 year old Miko with his tongue trapped between a very large pair of sharp scissors, by his own hand no less. I didn't take the time to sift through all of his postings but those that I did indicate two things- 1) He's a Libertarian, oh how shocking! Not really, it's actually quite fitting. Young ex-hollywood-er has deep thoughts and knows best, typical. Now, for those out there who suspect that I might be insulting Hughes, this is not so. Afterall he hasn't fallen drunken out of a cab or made a (Oh God, why are they airing this at all) made for T.V. movie or given a poor performance. It's just that, from what I could discern from his eventually abandoned blogs, he seems to feel that he is quite interesting. This is all at once intriguing and repulsive. Intriguing because we all believe that we are interesting and anyone with the berries to say so as emphatically as he must be, right? Repulsive because well, no one likes a boastfulbilly, ha. 2) He's normal. Just like me and you, out here blogging because we think "Somewhere, somehow, someone loves to read about my life because theirs is so like and altogether unlike mine. The magic in this is that from what I read the blogs were written truly to be read and taken in to let sit in the mind where as these days celebrity blogs and I use the term (celebrity) loosely are just semi-personalized press releases.

Okay, that was just the result of one of my many ponderings. Perhaps next time we'll find out "What ever happened to James Avery?". No, I'm kidding. Nobody cares. Just kidding, perhaps the better question is where is Obama taking America and are we there yet?

As noted in the title, my orientation for my new yob is tomorrow. A little antsy, on the whole I'd say I'm ready to get back to work but there is a part of me that will miss all of the nothing that there is to be done. At least this way I'll probably be more apt to workout, gotta get this resting heart rate lower. The real beast to tackle is the post exercise resting heart rate. Here I go again on my own, driving down the only road I've ever known...like a twister I was born to walk ...

Terra Firma Two- The Happy Go-Lucky Interviewee

Alright, so I filled in and submitted and online application Saturday, recieved a call Sunday afternoon for an interview on Wednesday. It's a small, not-so-great paying, retail yob. (Yes, I said YOB) At this point after literally almost a hundred applications I was sycked, I just need a paycheck. I am a cynic nearly to the bone, I mean there's skin, tendons, arteries, veins, muscle, sarcasm and then you hit bone- I'm a real Eyore type. I thought, what the hell, I'm just gonna smile and say the things I know to be true and be as honest and empty headed as possible. Not going to over think it, it's just a job interview; worst case scenario: I don't get the job and I go into the red in bank accounts and overdraw on my credit card trying to keep my phone turned on to hear about possible employment oppourtunities and end up on the roof of my parents' house threatening to jump. It's about a 12 foot fall, I wouldn't die but maybe I would hit my head hard enough that I didn't remember the state of my life. Ha.

I was to go in at 10:15. I got into the area at about 9:30 and decided that I hated what I was wearing (borrowed) but that if I bought clothes and didn't get the job that I would have just spent a crucial lump of bill money.

Whatever, I couldn't go in there feeling like I looked a little rag-tag. I bought shoes, which I decided against after buying and walking around in and found a stellar pair of wide-leg trousers for about twelve bucks. In black from head to toe with 4/5 inch heels and a cool hair style, a little punk a little kitch. It felt right and above all it was comfortable.

The process was a little odd, first I had to take a personality/ math/ product test to make sure I wasn't a dim psycho and then there were the interviews. Two total, the first with a "team member" who seemed a bit bored and just sort of going through the motions who only livend up after I told her that the one time I was asked to perform a task and couldn't really "get into" it was when I had to climb a 16 foot ladder to change light bulbs, I have a slight issue with heights that are affected by gusts of wind. Lol. I got a laugh, I thought "My foot is in the door". The second was with whom I can only guess was the Store Team Leader/ Manager, she asked me about my last place of employment (a grocery store) I won't say the name but I'll say it means party and rhymes with Siesta. She said "I don't like _ _ _ _ _ _ it always has a weird smell." I grinned, "I know that smell, I don't know where it comes from but I know it well." I was given an option for either daytime Salesfloor/ Cashiering or overnight stocking. Let me say this- I love overnight stocking, it was my first job and if it hadn't been for the horrible work environment it would probably still be my current job. My last two where mainly Cashier positions and I'm not too keen on being responsible for other people's money so I said "Overnight would be really convenient."

Here is the shocker- she said "Really, I think you would do well on the sales floor, you seem like you want to talk and you're so cheery. If you went overnight I don't I'd ever see you again, I think you might work for a few days and never come back. There's a certain type of people that work overnight, kind of zombie like, don't say hi when you pass them."

I laughed and said "Oh, yes, this sort of person" and put my head down and feined stocking. "Exactly!" she said. "I don't know, I love to stock things", I said. (Yeah, I know it sounds strange but it's a mostly solitary job and eight to twelve hours of listening to my ipod while getting some much needed exercise and being paid for it not to mention that meant that I could do school during the day without worrying about clashing schedules. That would be cool.)

She really seemed to want me to choose daytime so I said "Okay". She assured me that I'd get the chance to see they type of work the stockers did and if I preferred to switch a bit later, she'd arrange it. Cool beans.

It's the lowest pay I've ever had but it's also the first job offer after my recent termination (I'll get that in the next post) so I'm game. My only concern from this point on "What will the environment be like?" I was told it was a family/ team oriented invironment but I also heard that at Wal-mart and ... it was B.S. I hope the other employees are friendly. I hope I have fun and can smile, do you hear that I have hope. Is that the sun...

I took my drug test that day and could not stop laughing, I'd had this weird dream the night before about needing to borrow urine because I'd eaten a Pot Sandwhich, yeah I've never heard of a pot sandwhich but what the hell.

My sister went with me and there was this guy there, he had these scars on the backs of his legs, my eyes became as big as saucers. What a deuschbag, he'd had calve-implants. He dinged the bell for service and we giggled like school girls, he asked "What's funny?" We continued like we hadn't heard him, where is that guy? Calve-implant guy are you reading this? Do have calve-implants?

One Small Step for...

So with the drooling economy and a genuinely ill job choice I find myself unemployed and walking back through the hell fire that is interviews and self-doubt. I dsilike the process but it definitely gives me the oppourtunity to look at things in a different light and to perhaps approach my next job in such a different way that I don't even begin to feel the malaise that sets in after the intial period of employment.

When fist begining a new job, I'm eager and so completely purposed for gaining knowledge and being an asset to the company and then I find that there is some sort of previously established heirarchy that must be suffered through and as with most other things in life, you must "play the game". There will be clique-y employees and surley co-workers and I'll have to tell myself repeatdly that I'm not here for them and they don't pay my bills and so on and so forth. The truth- I'm absolutely frightened at the idea of working on this job and not being able to make any headway. I would be delighted to find that this new postion is my niche and that I end up holding and flourishing with this job. Yes, at the ripe old age of 22 I've come to realise that the mortgage/rent is a good enough reason to be comitted to a 9 to 5.

I just want a steady paycheck and a work environment that I love, I don't believe that I'm asking alot but I do think that up until now I've been afraid to admit that to myself or anyone else. I'm tired of living at home with my parents and not being able to walk into my own place and see that things are just the way I've left them, not to mention I'd like to feel like I deserve to have someone waiting on me when I get there. I think I'm growing up, I can't be sure but this is certainly new terra firma.

Hearts on Fire- "the cause"

I've always envied atheletes, bodies that behave as well oiled machines are undeniably interesting. The brain running the whole operation is another matter all together, so many people these days are so very concerned with their appearence that it seems a wasted effort to function under anything other than a tanning lamp.
I've decided that I can't wait anylonger to start doing the things that haunt me, rock climbing, running, and pull-ups. I crave these things but have never for one reason or another attempted them. Being over weight was never an issue until I realized that most people are not like me, they really do work a person from the ouside in; I can't blame people for having preferances, afterall it's a god given right but to write people off at a glance because of anything other than finding out that he/she is inhuman is unnerving.

I'm sure I've experienced it at some point or another though I have no recollection of such an event but I have seen people turn and look and comment about a friend or co-worker's weight and health. I was working at the Zoo one summer and I was in line behind this guy and his girlfriend (both slim but not athletic) and he began to tell her what was wrong with the family in front of them, that because the mother and father and their friends were over weight the children would be over weight and that it was going to be a huge cycle of the lazy begetting the lazy and hanging out with the lazy; that they would always hang around people who were fat because then there wouldn't be reason to lose weight, no challenge, no need to be competitive. The girl was quiet and you could tell their relationship, whatever it was would not last- she realized at that moment that he was an *sshole and that if she stayed with him she would always feel like he was judging her.

Hearing that guy say all of those things about people that I wasn't so far from being would have crushed me had I not already developed a thick skin. The year before that I went out on a date with this guy, we'll call him C.C. He was pudgy and a bit shorter than I and several times during the evening he said "I've dated big women before" as though I was some sort of curiosity and we began to dicuss our hobbies and I had been a runner for almost a year and when I told him that I liked to going jogging daily, he said "Yeah, right". I don't remember much about him but I absolutely remember that I was broken by that, that this guy who was no where near my ideal anything was so ... I haven't found a word for it, even after all this time. I wanted to throw my drink in his face but he had driven and I didn't want to have to explain this to anyone. I suffered through the date feeling like I was a servant eating at the master's foot, I was so wounded I couldn't eat and was beginning to feel sick. He scraped his plate clean and waited for me to finish, when I said I was done (with most of the my food still on my plate) he said "Oh, come on. I know you eat more than that." I lost something very important that night, a little piece of dignity. I felt so- angry. I was angry with myself, with my parents, with my life, with my feet for not walking out on him, with my heart for feeling like it was going to explode and chards of intense angst would puncture everything for lightyears.

I've never been serious about any guy, I can't really say why. I've always chosen men who I really have nothing in common with and could see no sort of future. I know that if Dr. Phil were here he'd say "Now, you know why. You don't want to get attatched and furthermore you don't feel like you deserve to be loved."<-------That is where Dr. Phil is wrong, I deserve to be loved but have the feeling or fear rather that there will never be anyone who "gets" me that would find me "compatible" (read:thin) with their lifestyle. I'm just venting, rambling, expressing the things that I carry with me during the day that squeeze my heart at night. I'll never clear the mess that is my emotional psyche in one post but I must admit there seems to be a little more breathing room.