Timing

I have to agree with the old saying "Timing is everything." Its true. Things can be radically affected by what you happen to be doing at any given time. And I am learning that timing is a cruel bitch. I had finally decided to stop hermitting myself and allowing the hilight of my weeks to be a House marathon on TV. I was going to do two really awesome internships one at a theatre in Decatur and one in the GSU English dept. But Ms. Timing had other plans for me. After one measly little week of working at these internships when I had finally begun to convince myself that finding a full time job in Atlanta might just not be in cards for me, mother time decided to deal me a new hand. I got a call for a job interview at a law office in Midtown. The interview went fabulously, best interview I have ever had. And 4 days later I was the newest employee at the firm. Great news, but bittersweet news. I had to tell the lovely people at these internships that although I had only worked with them for one week (hardly long enough to even learn all the names) that I got a full time job and could no longer work with them. See mother time thinks this is funny. She lives for those kind of awkward conversations that people try to avoid at all costs. Bitch. But I am happy at my new job, in fact I am writing to you folks from my new office on my lunch break, which is almost over so I better go. I'm just interested to see what's next. Stay tuned I'll be sharing. 

Mob Rule

I was finally able to escape my suburban prison for a few days and make a little trip back out to Atlanta. I miss it so much!  I hate that I'm a visitor there now. Whenever I go out there I end up nomading around with all my stuff until I can get into a friend's place. I usually end up at the GSU library stealing their internet. This past trip was particularly distressing because school has started back at Georgia State. So this past Monday I find myself wandering the GSU campus (being a bit sentimental I'll admit) with a giant backpack full of all my clothes and stuff until I can meet up with my dear friend Matthew who never fails to let me be a moocher and stay at his place. As I'm wandering around I'm hoping that I don’t run into anyone I know because it occurs to me that that I look like a recent graduate who wanders the halls  of her alma mater with a book bag in tow trying to recreate the sense of belonging she had in her former college days. And while I do miss school I haven't yet reached that level of desperation. But of course despite my wishing/hoping/thinking/praying that I wouldn't run into anyone, I run into several people. Each conversation begins pretty much the same way, "Didn't you graduate?" My embarrassed response: "Yeah, I'm just visiting, waiting to meet up with my friend". But despite my awkward run-ins and looking like a crazy person lovesick for academia, I was very happy to be able to spend some time downtown and with friends I don't get to see that often anymore. And I did run into some acquaintances downtown that are even stranger than I am: the pigeons.  I forgot how entertaining those weird little birds are. Atlanta has some raggedy ass pigeons and then there are also some really fat bastard looking pigeons. This always made me suspect that being an Atlanta pigeon would be something like being in the Italian mob. I'm always seeing these pigeons that look like they've been seriously roughed up: feathers askew, and missing toes or legs. And I just want to say to them, "Did you piss off the boss?" The fat pigeon is never far away either, and I can't but think, "That fat bastard ate that other pigeon’s toes". I don't mess with the fat pigeons; they might try and tack a chunk out of a finger, you just don’t mess with the boss. But anyway: trip to Atlanta= Success.    

Dirty Words

This isn't one of those things where I'm going to implore you to use clean, family friendly language and tell you how un-classy it is to use "dirty words". Not at all. When it comes to profanity I'm actually a fan. However it really aggravates me when people overuse curse words. Part of what makes curse words so fun is that they are generally used in special circumstances. If every miniscule annoyance in your life warrants a an f-bomb or any of the other choice words that are considered profane, then I'm inclined to think that they happen to be the only interesting words you know, well either that or you may have anger issues. I would think that using profanity every other minute takes the satisfaction out of using it when it really is necessary. And trust me there are times when it is both necessary and extremely satisfying (like whenever I stub my toe). It would bother me less if the people I know who over-swear did it well. You see I kinda see swearing as an art form. Some people can string together a line of curse words so eloquently that any time they choose to do so, it seems perfectly appropriate. I love it when people bellow out these amazingly awful but awesome lines. There should be classes on how to accurately and eloquently swear. I would take that class. Think about it, your insults would give whiplash! I guess the point of this post is to implore everyone to please conserve the sanctity of profanity and to explore a broader more interesting vocabulary.     

Blogging

I'm going to begin my blog by stating the obvious: I've decided to start a blog. Why? you might ask. But really you probably don't care why, I'm gonna tell you anyway. Well for several reasons. For one because it seems that no one can do, say, or even think anything without immediatly publishing it on the internet and I was begining to feel left out. Two, because social networking seems to have developed into something important. I've applied for more than one job where experience blogging and tweeting were essential skills. I'm afraid that soon the ability to compose a tweet will be a more vital life skill than knowing how to spell your own name (someone needs to show me how to use twitter before it happens). Three, because I am so unbelievably bored in my post graduate, pre-professional life that I have stooped to level of documenting my thoughts, because just thinking them isn't enough. Maybe if I give special attention to each and every solitary thought and share them online then the days will go by faster or be more interesting. Probably not, but maybe. I feel like I'm 12 years old again writing in a diary because my adolescent feelings are to explosive to be contained, and writing in a silly diary may save me from having an outburst. Except I never wrote in the diary unless I was fuming mad and so it was really more of a "slam book" or something like that. That phase was short lived anyway, I probably wrote in that thing a total of 5 times.  I guess this is different, I have no intention of repeatedly expressing my rage on this blog. In fact, when people post about their problems online I'm usually perplexed by it. Especially the FB posts that are not explicitly directed at someone but have a 'you know who you are' tone to them. Those posts generally just make the person who wrote them look like a jackass; come on folks we are too old for the outbursts and by putting it online you aren't shaming the guilty party, just unwittingly making a fool of yourself. Anyway, I think I've said enough about what I don't intend to write in this blog, and if you want to know about what I do intent to write  then you should probably just read it. I'm sure I'll be posting again soon.