Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Monday, June 28, 2010
Late nights with Garden Shears
Who in their right mind would want to break into my apartment? It’s almost not a question but a statement. Within the last hour someone yanked on my storm door and tried to get it open. This is the third time this has happened in ten days. There’s nothing in here to steal. And as much as whoever this is terrorizing me doesn’t know that – it freaks me out to think maybe they aren’t looking to steal stuff but to hurt me. I live in a shit neighborhood. I’ve got to move.
I used to take drives at night. I’d drive with the windows down and let the wind blow through my hair. I’d breathe deeply and smell the night air. I’d smell honeysuckle and rain and near the lake, salt water. In the winter I’d ride with the window’s down and the heat on high blowing on my feet. Now I feel as though I am a prisoner in my own home. I can’t leave even to do late night laundry (and no I don’t mean that as a euphemism). I even will watch my watch when I’m out at night because I don’t want to come home too late.
I don’t sleep during the night. And I have garden shears in my bed with me. My cousin says I should get a gun. Thanks, 19 year old cousin. But I sleepwalk – I don’t think that’s safe. I mean, sleepwalking is more than walking while asleep. I’ve woken up fully dressed in a suit standing by the door waiting to go to work. I’ve woken myself up talking. I’ve taken baths. One night I took everything off of the walls and put it in neat little piles on the floor. Thank the good god, thank her I said, that I don’t sleep-eat! So…yeah, not a great idea to buy a gun. Dog’s out as an idea as well. I can’t afford to feed myself.
Well, off to not falling asleep. I think I’ll watch a Cary Grant movie cuddled up with my garden shears.
I used to take drives at night. I’d drive with the windows down and let the wind blow through my hair. I’d breathe deeply and smell the night air. I’d smell honeysuckle and rain and near the lake, salt water. In the winter I’d ride with the window’s down and the heat on high blowing on my feet. Now I feel as though I am a prisoner in my own home. I can’t leave even to do late night laundry (and no I don’t mean that as a euphemism). I even will watch my watch when I’m out at night because I don’t want to come home too late.
I don’t sleep during the night. And I have garden shears in my bed with me. My cousin says I should get a gun. Thanks, 19 year old cousin. But I sleepwalk – I don’t think that’s safe. I mean, sleepwalking is more than walking while asleep. I’ve woken up fully dressed in a suit standing by the door waiting to go to work. I’ve woken myself up talking. I’ve taken baths. One night I took everything off of the walls and put it in neat little piles on the floor. Thank the good god, thank her I said, that I don’t sleep-eat! So…yeah, not a great idea to buy a gun. Dog’s out as an idea as well. I can’t afford to feed myself.
Well, off to not falling asleep. I think I’ll watch a Cary Grant movie cuddled up with my garden shears.
Airports and networking
Airports and networking
I’m waiting for my connection flight in my second airport today. I’ve got my cell phone and laptop plugged into a Samsung Mobile charge site. I’m watching CNN’s Larry King LIVE’s Disaster in the Gulf and How You Can Help telethon. CNN is reporting how they are live on TV, the web and can be contacted through phone, Twitter or Facebook. There’s probably 35 people sitting in the waiting area and no one but me is watching the show. But lots of people are on their phones and computers. There’s a kid who looks about 11 years old and he’s on his netbook and a cell phone. He’s probably letting his wife know how tough his workday was and he’ll be home late for dinner. There are still people using the standby way of networking – talking face to face. There’s a guy talking to a girl one row over. I can hear him chatting her up and she laughs. He isn’t funny but I guess she likes the romantic notion of being hit on by a stranger in an airport. Hey, that’s still networking. Airports have caught on to the idea of social networking. You can ‘like’ Continental Airlines on Facebook. I’m sure there’ll soon be a program that encourages future airline wannabes to ‘follow’ pilots on Twitter to learn what it is really like to fly for a living. “Don’t tweet and fly,” they’ll write. I joined Twitter two years ago. I tried to explain to my boss the significance of being connected continually to the world. She was aware of course of the Internet and news sites but did not understand why she would want to know what someone was doing all the time. I remember her saying, “Why do I want to know what someone ate for breakfast?” I tried to explain that while the site was about that it was about so much more. Networking skills are keenly important to the growth of a business or relationship and networking through the Internet was a new wave she needed to encourage the hotel to ride. Social networking is not a fad and I think within today’s world cannot be ignored. Small businesses, corporations and individuals alike need to get on board or they will be left behind. To my boss I gave the example of the plane crash in Hudson Bay in January of 2009. A Twitter user was the first to report the incident and CNN picked it up from his account. For a long time the media only had this gentleman’s pictures as photographic evidence. So not only would my boss get up to the second news and information, she also would be able to find out what I had for breakfast. I sold her on the idea but she didn’t sign up for an account.
If my flight gets me home on time maybe I will hit the Facebook ‘like’ button!
I had toast for breakfast.
-Short Legs Magee
I’m waiting for my connection flight in my second airport today. I’ve got my cell phone and laptop plugged into a Samsung Mobile charge site. I’m watching CNN’s Larry King LIVE’s Disaster in the Gulf and How You Can Help telethon. CNN is reporting how they are live on TV, the web and can be contacted through phone, Twitter or Facebook. There’s probably 35 people sitting in the waiting area and no one but me is watching the show. But lots of people are on their phones and computers. There’s a kid who looks about 11 years old and he’s on his netbook and a cell phone. He’s probably letting his wife know how tough his workday was and he’ll be home late for dinner. There are still people using the standby way of networking – talking face to face. There’s a guy talking to a girl one row over. I can hear him chatting her up and she laughs. He isn’t funny but I guess she likes the romantic notion of being hit on by a stranger in an airport. Hey, that’s still networking. Airports have caught on to the idea of social networking. You can ‘like’ Continental Airlines on Facebook. I’m sure there’ll soon be a program that encourages future airline wannabes to ‘follow’ pilots on Twitter to learn what it is really like to fly for a living. “Don’t tweet and fly,” they’ll write. I joined Twitter two years ago. I tried to explain to my boss the significance of being connected continually to the world. She was aware of course of the Internet and news sites but did not understand why she would want to know what someone was doing all the time. I remember her saying, “Why do I want to know what someone ate for breakfast?” I tried to explain that while the site was about that it was about so much more. Networking skills are keenly important to the growth of a business or relationship and networking through the Internet was a new wave she needed to encourage the hotel to ride. Social networking is not a fad and I think within today’s world cannot be ignored. Small businesses, corporations and individuals alike need to get on board or they will be left behind. To my boss I gave the example of the plane crash in Hudson Bay in January of 2009. A Twitter user was the first to report the incident and CNN picked it up from his account. For a long time the media only had this gentleman’s pictures as photographic evidence. So not only would my boss get up to the second news and information, she also would be able to find out what I had for breakfast. I sold her on the idea but she didn’t sign up for an account.
If my flight gets me home on time maybe I will hit the Facebook ‘like’ button!
I had toast for breakfast.
-Short Legs Magee
Evacuation Day
Evacuation Day
Hurricanes are a part of year round daily life in New Orleans. If it’s not hurricane season we New Orleanians are talking about last year’s hurricane season and why we think this one will be different, better or worse. But when June 1 hits, our thought patterns heat up with the weather and spin faster and faster counter clockwise. Are we prepared? How are the levees doing? Do I have enough money to evacuate? Where will I go? There is a feeling in the air that no one can quite put his or her finger on but everyone feels it as much as they feel the humidity. If a hurricane is close enough, people start becoming instant friends with strangers at gas station and hardware stores. They ask, “When are you leaving?” or give helpful tips, “Make sure to bring toilet paper for the car trip!” We are a band of brothers and no longer strangers. People flood to the grocery stores for water, batteries and Spaghetti O’s. There is a certain amount of excitement and fear flashing in everyone’s eyes. Is this it? Is this what we’ve been hearing about for our whole lives or will we be back in three days hearing I Told You Sos? There are the realists who remind everyone – no one knows anything, be smart and do what you have to do. There are the alarmists, also known as TV weather people, who thrive on a good storm. The may as well join the sandwich boarded “The End Is Near” group. They wait all year to use the scary graphics and repetitive doom music. Between the Internet, voodoo rain dances and years of knowledge of vanishing wetlands everyone becomes a meteorologist and everyone has their opinion. Everyone believes it’s his or her opinion that is fact. People go round and round on whether they’ll leave or not. “I’ll leave if it’s a 3 or higher,” is commonly heard. Older people will often refuse to leave. They’ll say they made it though Camille, Betsy, or even Katrina. It’s been a few years since we’ve had a scare here in the city. Gustav was tough on us emotionally. We were scarred, scared and then, other than the contraflow, didn’t get much action. This promotes people to want to stay in the city if a storm is coming. Evacuation is taxing on a person’s wallet but also on the heart. The people of New Orleans are resilient but we live with broken hearts. Sometimes people forget it’s not usually during a hurricane that is the worst part; it is the aftermath that begins a second after the storm passes. As awful as an evacuation can be, it is also a bit thrilling. Sometimes the not knowing can be exciting. Everyone jumps to pack and leave as soon as they’ve done their preparations. Pack, fill the bathtub with water, call family and friends, turn off the gas, grab memories and paperwork and take insurance photos. Everyone wants to try to beat the traffic. There is a surge of emotion in the air. Driving, you meet other refugee’s eyes and there is no need to speak – everyone’s on the same wavelength inside with their blood pressure rising while remembering the waters rising. Hours and hours of driving take us slowly out of the city in our souls. Then there’s the waiting. Fate has a way to show who is boss and She’s in charge on evacuation day.
-Short Legs Magee
Hurricanes are a part of year round daily life in New Orleans. If it’s not hurricane season we New Orleanians are talking about last year’s hurricane season and why we think this one will be different, better or worse. But when June 1 hits, our thought patterns heat up with the weather and spin faster and faster counter clockwise. Are we prepared? How are the levees doing? Do I have enough money to evacuate? Where will I go? There is a feeling in the air that no one can quite put his or her finger on but everyone feels it as much as they feel the humidity. If a hurricane is close enough, people start becoming instant friends with strangers at gas station and hardware stores. They ask, “When are you leaving?” or give helpful tips, “Make sure to bring toilet paper for the car trip!” We are a band of brothers and no longer strangers. People flood to the grocery stores for water, batteries and Spaghetti O’s. There is a certain amount of excitement and fear flashing in everyone’s eyes. Is this it? Is this what we’ve been hearing about for our whole lives or will we be back in three days hearing I Told You Sos? There are the realists who remind everyone – no one knows anything, be smart and do what you have to do. There are the alarmists, also known as TV weather people, who thrive on a good storm. The may as well join the sandwich boarded “The End Is Near” group. They wait all year to use the scary graphics and repetitive doom music. Between the Internet, voodoo rain dances and years of knowledge of vanishing wetlands everyone becomes a meteorologist and everyone has their opinion. Everyone believes it’s his or her opinion that is fact. People go round and round on whether they’ll leave or not. “I’ll leave if it’s a 3 or higher,” is commonly heard. Older people will often refuse to leave. They’ll say they made it though Camille, Betsy, or even Katrina. It’s been a few years since we’ve had a scare here in the city. Gustav was tough on us emotionally. We were scarred, scared and then, other than the contraflow, didn’t get much action. This promotes people to want to stay in the city if a storm is coming. Evacuation is taxing on a person’s wallet but also on the heart. The people of New Orleans are resilient but we live with broken hearts. Sometimes people forget it’s not usually during a hurricane that is the worst part; it is the aftermath that begins a second after the storm passes. As awful as an evacuation can be, it is also a bit thrilling. Sometimes the not knowing can be exciting. Everyone jumps to pack and leave as soon as they’ve done their preparations. Pack, fill the bathtub with water, call family and friends, turn off the gas, grab memories and paperwork and take insurance photos. Everyone wants to try to beat the traffic. There is a surge of emotion in the air. Driving, you meet other refugee’s eyes and there is no need to speak – everyone’s on the same wavelength inside with their blood pressure rising while remembering the waters rising. Hours and hours of driving take us slowly out of the city in our souls. Then there’s the waiting. Fate has a way to show who is boss and She’s in charge on evacuation day.
-Short Legs Magee
Unemploymentality
Unemploymentality
So it happened. I was laid off and I didn’t see it coming. The unemploymentality bleeds into every aspect of my life.
I’ve come to realize everyone feels the need to comment on my situation. You should do this and you should try this, they tell me. This may come from a place of a good-natured need to fix situations but unless it’s substantial advice that will head to a lead – it’s only an annoying reminder that you’re not in a good place and everyone knows it. I don’t need any more reminders of that fact. I’m told one day I’ll look back on this time and think it wasn’t so bad. And yes, I’m not so selfish as to assume no one has it worse than I, but I’m not usually a stressed person. Friends say they wish they had the time I have. That when I get back in the rat race I will wish I had the time I have now. But what they don’t realize is that looking for a job is actually a full time job. I constantly have to be on the look out for a potential person to contact or for a lead. It is days of networking, taking names and kicking butt. It’s a world of vast amounts of time and zero freedom. It’s endless nights of Holly Golightly Mean Reds (and the occasional cry in the hot shower). It’s endless days of pretending, stress hives and a few panic attacks for good measure. It’s about looking forward and not allowing your self to look left or right. Staying the course and believing in your self. It’s about marketing yourself in such a particular way that people remember you and can’t imagine their next project without your fingerprint. It’s thinking of creative ways to get your name attention.
When I get a job it’ll be like Christmas Morning. I know myself.
I’m a positive person and when I allow myself to freefall into believing something good will come out of all I’ve learned while out of work I can shelve the negative – for a few minutes. I been able to spend a lot more time with my family. I’ve been able to read more books and catch up on popular culture. I’ve been cooking. I’ve been being a tad more selfish with my time than I have been in the past.
The unemploymentality will affect everyone differently. I hope to get a novel out of mine.
-Short Legs Magee
So it happened. I was laid off and I didn’t see it coming. The unemploymentality bleeds into every aspect of my life.
I’ve come to realize everyone feels the need to comment on my situation. You should do this and you should try this, they tell me. This may come from a place of a good-natured need to fix situations but unless it’s substantial advice that will head to a lead – it’s only an annoying reminder that you’re not in a good place and everyone knows it. I don’t need any more reminders of that fact. I’m told one day I’ll look back on this time and think it wasn’t so bad. And yes, I’m not so selfish as to assume no one has it worse than I, but I’m not usually a stressed person. Friends say they wish they had the time I have. That when I get back in the rat race I will wish I had the time I have now. But what they don’t realize is that looking for a job is actually a full time job. I constantly have to be on the look out for a potential person to contact or for a lead. It is days of networking, taking names and kicking butt. It’s a world of vast amounts of time and zero freedom. It’s endless nights of Holly Golightly Mean Reds (and the occasional cry in the hot shower). It’s endless days of pretending, stress hives and a few panic attacks for good measure. It’s about looking forward and not allowing your self to look left or right. Staying the course and believing in your self. It’s about marketing yourself in such a particular way that people remember you and can’t imagine their next project without your fingerprint. It’s thinking of creative ways to get your name attention.
When I get a job it’ll be like Christmas Morning. I know myself.
I’m a positive person and when I allow myself to freefall into believing something good will come out of all I’ve learned while out of work I can shelve the negative – for a few minutes. I been able to spend a lot more time with my family. I’ve been able to read more books and catch up on popular culture. I’ve been cooking. I’ve been being a tad more selfish with my time than I have been in the past.
The unemploymentality will affect everyone differently. I hope to get a novel out of mine.
-Short Legs Magee
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Today was a BLT day and enough grey veggies on my own plate
Today was a better day than some. It seems the days where I leave my apartment and see humans - and the experiences are positive - NOT interviews for jobs - when I see humans and it's positive, things are a bit better inside.
I no longer have money to grocery shop. Today mom took me out to lunch. Well, I actually ended up paying but whatever. And I had the greatest BLT.
Had a nightmare that a hurricane came and went while I was asleep in my apartment. I opened the front door and everything was covered in oil. I listen to Cowboy Mouth - The Avenue - who would want to live here if slapped in the face a second, and for that matter, a third time. Fate has a way of showing who's boss? Yeah - OIL.
I've begun taking my hurt and shelving it. Dad keeps texting me and I don't read them anymore. 11 months have really hardened me. The old me would have chastised anyone who did a thing lke that. Old me would say, "but what if it was an emergency?! - what if something happened?" But the new me hopes something did happen and doesn't want to deal with it. I'm done with picking up everyone's pieces. I'm also done with the threats that something BAD will happen. Let it happen. I'm out.
I have enough grey veggies on my own plate.
-Short Legs Magee
I no longer have money to grocery shop. Today mom took me out to lunch. Well, I actually ended up paying but whatever. And I had the greatest BLT.
Had a nightmare that a hurricane came and went while I was asleep in my apartment. I opened the front door and everything was covered in oil. I listen to Cowboy Mouth - The Avenue - who would want to live here if slapped in the face a second, and for that matter, a third time. Fate has a way of showing who's boss? Yeah - OIL.
I've begun taking my hurt and shelving it. Dad keeps texting me and I don't read them anymore. 11 months have really hardened me. The old me would have chastised anyone who did a thing lke that. Old me would say, "but what if it was an emergency?! - what if something happened?" But the new me hopes something did happen and doesn't want to deal with it. I'm done with picking up everyone's pieces. I'm also done with the threats that something BAD will happen. Let it happen. I'm out.
I have enough grey veggies on my own plate.
-Short Legs Magee
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