The Toughest Job You'll Ever Love

After staying up too late doing nothing in particular, I got a 7:30am phone call.  Am I available to fill in a sub spot for 8th graders?  "Yes," I said, "I can do that." Commence a mad dash around the house, in and out of the shower, making sure I'm wearing shoes with heels to augment my height, tossing food into my mouth, throwing together a lunch, and checking that my shirt comes up high enough soas to not pull a Hillary.  I realize that this adrenaline rush isn't going to last forever, and hurry some black tea into a travel mug.  It's not as much caffeine as I'd like to have for this occasion, but it's better than nothing.

fast forward seven hours

Well, nothing caught on fire.  I managed to maintain an almost dead calm the entire day.  Anything else would have been just Too Much.

Strangely, this type of temping still feels better to me than does temping in the form of filing papers inside a highrise.

So Far, So Good

So far, I'd have to say that 2008 is aok.

Cheek to Cheek

I am a dancer. I've always been a dancer. It's part of who I am, and who I'd like to continue to be. Dancing took a back seat while in grad school, but present circumstances are allowing for more opportunities to dance than I've had in a while. Ballroom, swing, morris, 80's... you name it, and I'll be lacing up the appropriate shoes.

I was a tad frustrated at the Edwardian Ball this weekend. It was my first time in attendance, and while there was definitely eye candy all 'round, there wasn't as much dancing as I'd anticipated. While the bands (all very fun) were playing, the goths just weren't dancing. They weren't even goth dancing (once very accurately described to me as "being on fire in slow motion"). There were specific points in the program meant for ballroom dancing, but isn't all music made for dancing?

Sheesh.

In related news, tailcoats are the bomb.  Doesn't really matter what kind; they can traditional, they can be goth, but they should just be, early and often.

Enjoy this example of a tailcoat in proper action (and the dress ain't half-bad, either).

"...before they made real video games."

So I was in said Local Coffeeshop, when I heard this:

"So my dad is like an expert at Pac Man...from college...you know, before they made real video games..."

The senior high school girls sitting behind me were trying to figure out how to play the tabletop Ms. Pac Man machine. It was one of those new-fangled tabletops, where you can choose among several "classic" games. After their first round, I heard them going through the list, "Donkey Kong...what's that? Centipede...I don't know any of these!"

I couldn't stop myself from turning around and saying, "Centipede is one of the best games ever - you should try it." They asked how to play and I offered to coach them through a session ("If you see a little spider coming at you, you need to get it fast") but $1 was a bit steep for a game and they turned their attention elsewhere.

Net result: I felt at once "old", and yet superior in my taste in video games.

I resisted telling them to run out and see "The King of Kong: A Fistful of Quarters", a fabulous David and Goliath style documentary, featuring a mild-mannered Bellevue, WA resident against a Floridian hot sauce magnate... you just have to see it.

I think their dad would like it.

They're Following Me

I am quite suddenly experiencing so many blasts from the past that I wouldn't be that surprised if I looked outside and saw people sporting bell bottoms.

Pumped Up and (I Hope) Staph Free

Just finished cleaning up after checking out the 24 Hour Fitness, literally across the street. I need to get myself back into the gym and have friends who are satisfied customers, so I thought I'd give it a try. It's a "circuit training" facility, meaning that you spend one minute on each of twentysomething machines. This bodes well for my college-developed mantra, "If you save everything until the last minute, it only takes a minute," but the by-the-books health and safety side me me wants more evidence (see previous sunscreen and earplug post). My previous gym experience included hand-picking a trainer (I selected the one pursuing her PhD in exercise stuff), and then getting a personalized workout plan, complete with math. The circuit scene is very much one size fits all.

It's proving difficult to find any articles that aren't sponsored by a circuit training outfit, but if they're out there, I'll find them. Oh yes, I will find them.

Joining a gym also sports an alluring air of danger due to a big ole staph epidemic making the rounds in the Bay Area right now.

The L Word

"L" is for "Lifeline". The lifeline that I keep ripping back to, or one of four or five at my disposal. I knit for about three hours today, and the jury's out on whether any actual progress has been made. The lacelike object currently vexing me is the Shetland Triangle Shawl, from Wrap Style. I am working it in Elsebeth Lavold's Silky Tweed, color Claret, size 8 KP Options Needles. Loving the points, particularly after going back to some older projects and working with with non KP needles.

I continue to be amazed at the persistence I display when it comes to this hobby, because usually, giving up is a far more attractive option.

Like Falling Back Onto a Log

Today, along with much of the rest of the country, I got up and went to work. This isn't ordinarily so interesting, but I haven't had full-time work since I went to grad school (and still don't) so I found it very refreshing and novel.

My task? Present tarantula facts to squirmy second and third-graders, along accompanied by a Real Live Tarantula.

I find this type of work immeasurably easier and more natural than, say, answering phones in a busy office.

Though this was a one-morning gig, I'm anticipating more, so this is good. Between this and serving the great county of Alameda as a substitute teacher, I *will* continue to put food on the table (said while shaking a determined fist into the air).

A Real Job(tm) continues to elude me.

Buzzing With Potential Energy

Today I had fingerprints taken for an emergency teaching credential, which will allow me to be abused for up to 30 days apiece in any number of Bay Area classrooms. It felt good to actually put these papers I've been carrying around to use (college transcripts, passport, and etc.). I also talked to a woman at a museum where I will be teaching a class tomorrow morning - this may lead to other classes. So I'm finally starting to get some potential coals into the fire and things are just starting to look semi-decent at least in terms of being able to pay rent and eat, fine, fine, good good.

So we can just leave things as they are but wait a second, who is that I see walking down the street while I'm sitting in the aforementioned Local Coffee Shop but an old acquaintance who now works for an organization that, well, let's just say that I was very happy to have run into him, and I am going to be forwarding my current information.

I am buzzing with so much potential energy that I am writing run-on sentences and I don't even care.

Fingerprints...again.

Today I get to head to Hayward to get yet another set of fingerprints taken. I have been fingerprinted in California three or four times, and in Seattle once. Or was that twice? I've definitely been background checked twice there.

I keep waiting for them to come up with something interesting.

My Local Coffee Shop Annoys Me

While in Seattle, I got into the coffee shop "scene". It's a perfect setup: lots of rain means there are lots of cozy places to settle in for the day. Here in the Bay Area, there aren't a lot of places that have it down. There's either not enough seating, or the atmosphere is all wrong. The coffee shop up the street has the right atmosphere, and there are plenty of places to sit, and the food's fine, but the staff just rubs me the wrong way. They busy themselves playing music way too loud, or way too ironically (today it was "classic soul" a la Smokey Robinson and the Supremes), and shouting to each other, jumping around in ways that are designed to garner attention, and just generally acting cooler-than-thou.

True though this may be, they don't need to rub it in.

Reconnecting With My Roots

After going to New Wave City the other evening, I've found myself listening to a bunch of my older CDs, and loving every minute of it. Last night I stumbled across a very bizarre interpretation of Duran Duran songs, apparently performed by a string quartet. You can listen to some samples on iTunes, or right here on Amazon.

The other ridiculous thing I did last night was finish up a knitting project, that just turned out silly. My favorite response to my worry, "are the bows too big?" came from Joshua, who said, "Define too big!"

They remain Too Big, which is just as they should be.

Finished Something! Well, almost.

A pair of gloves is *almost* finished. All I need is a nice piece of ribbon and that'll be that. I began them at a grad student retreat on Whidbey Island last year, when a bunch of us decided to get together on a weekend and talk shop. Someone was illustrating a point by saying something about how we're surrounded by X and Y all the time, but we don't take conscious notice of it. Then they said, "For example, we're all, oh I don't know, we're all wearing socks, but we don't even notice things like that."

I stopped the comment and said, "Er, I've actually noticed every one of your socks today."

So anyway, I have these nice gloves to remind me of that day's adventure and that's fun.

Tomorrow morning I get to hang at the social security office to get a replacement card - that oughta be an adventure!

And as for right now: I have me some Peter Murphy on the stereo, and I couldn't be more satisfied.

Girls on Film

I'm going to New Wave City tonight for the first time in, well, a few years. Should be fun - it's Duran Duran night! So I'm heading out into gale-force weather today to get a couple of things I need, most notably...earplugs. This goes well with my declaration that, if faced with the prospect of being trapped on a desert island, the first thing I would want to have is...sunscreen.

You can count on me for health and safety basics.

No, *Really*, a Finishing Frenzy!

I am doing what I can to make FOs out of UFOs, with varying degrees of success. It'd be nice if I had room to block, or at least a steady paycheck to get me some o' them interlocking foam tile things from Amazon that are manufactured for use in baby rooms.

Oh by the way, I am back in the San Francisco Bay Area, slowly getting my life back on track. I am a master (or a mistress, depending on who's asking), and the jobs are sadly not yet rolling in.