Post-school life isn't nearly as relaxing as I imagined it to be. Doing nothing takes a lot of energy. There's naps to fit in, coffee to make, clothes to put in random yet purposeful piles, beds to unmake after an annoyingly helpful mother makes them up, dishes to dirty and leave about, among many other tiring, toiling tasks (alliteration creation, for one).
I keep finding excuses to put off sending my resume out. First I needed to take a week off from life. You know, to relax and do all of the aforementioned tiring, toiling tasks. Next, I need to help my mom move me into her new condo. Now I need to wait for her to get cable/internet so I can finish my resume and do research. And so on. The real world is scaring me a bit, and while I realize it won't be so bad once I get there, I'm continuing to put it off. I'm not good with change. Where my leg warmers at?
Work is becoming increasingly more interesting. A year into it and I finally feel like I'm beginning to develop what it takes to be a legitimate bartender. I've become pretty good at multitasking, but now I need to work on multitasking with a smile. My "concentration face" is not a happy one. Idle banter is coming more easily, and I'm really working on trying not to let casual flirtation from patrons freak me out too much, and my army of "regulars" is slowly growing. Let's just hope Drew "totally didn't kill my wives, bro" Peterson doesn't join up.
I love my parents for a variety of reasons, but among these reasons are the following:
-After picking up The Boy, looking dishevelled and rightfully like he had spent the night wandering drunkenly around the city, and taking him to my mom's place to get him cleaned up and tucked into bed, I overheard my mom talking to her bff on the phone, saying how "cute" Alex was and how he seemed to have a bit of a rough night, "poor little thing".
-After attempting to explain the O Rly? owl to our dad, Linda sat him down to a) find said owl, but also b) showed him some lol!cats. My dad then asked if she could save the lol!cats to his bookmarks.
9 days until I officially graduate!
11 days until I fly to Austin!
12 days until AFA!
24 days until I leave for Nashville!
25 days until NFA!
29 days until I'm done with my competitive forensics career!
66 days until Kate and Travis' wedding!
66 days until my friends graduate from NCC!
86 days until DC with The Boy!
103 days until Hawaii with Linda!
No, seriously. I don't normally use that language, and it takes a lot to get me really frustrated and really upset, but congratulations! You've done it!
Whoever trained the people in customer service really did a bang-up job, because they've been just as useless as rumored to be. I don't see what was so hard about sending out a simple sheet of paper to my address. Obviously you know where to send the bills. I've gotten two bills since I've tried to straighten this out. Couldn't you have just sent the form with the bill?
E-mail sounded like a great option, I even spent 4 minutes with the woman whose accent muddied up the "what letter was that?" conversation making sure my e-mail address was 100% correct. Three calls later and no one knows why the e-mail wasn't sent. Was the internet broken? Whose job is it to send that e-mail? Find them and poke them hard in the side and tell them to wake the fuck up and hit the "send" button.
So all that's left to do is show up with the roommate who hasn't BEEN my roommate for 3 months to the service center which I swear to God, doesn't exist. We went looking for it once, didn't find it. So now I have to call her, organize a time when we can both show up, even though we live in completely different towns and have completely different lives.
You're not even sorry! That's what's really getting to me! Not once did I hear an apology for the three months of frustration you've put me through! Not a single "I'm sorry this happened to you" or "We're really sorry this has been so complicated". Not one.
So thanks for nothing. Your cable quality is shitty, your internet connection is sub-par, and your service people smell funny. Here's my new plan: I cancel service, and my ex-roomies get new service, and YOU waive the installation fees because YOU fucked up for three months.
I hope some old lady storms in with a hammer and breaks shit at your offices again.
Right now my life consists of a series of countdowns, and the latest event to get checked off the list was the Illinois Intercollegiate Forensics Association's State Tournament. It was one of those events that ultimately weighed in on the emotional-experience continuum at "bittersweet". I'm going to blame it on that Suburban-Equilibrium I've discussed in the past. When something amazing happens, something else needs to balance it out to make sure life don't get too too.
The person responsible for typing these words to you today is the 2008 IIFA State Champion in Parliamentary Debate, an honor I share with my esteemed debate partner, SB. We were hardly expecting to do quite so well, and I feel like my mental process whilst standing up on the stage during the awards ceremony should be documented.
One thing you have to understand is that at forensics competitions, when announcing awards, it always sounds like this: "In Whatever Place, from Some School, So and So!". You also have to understand that the team SB and I were up against were from Northwestern University.
So there we were, standing up on stage, a little dumbfounded in the first place that we managed to get there.
This is insane, this is crazy. The presenter is talking. Listen....Listen...
"In 2nd place, from North..." Shoot. Well it figures, this was only our 4th tournament everanyway.
"....western University..." ...that's not North Central. What's happening? The boys from the other team are shaking Judy's hand. Why does the rest of my team out in the audience look so happy? Sarah's looking at me. I'm confused.
"And your 2008 IIFA State Champions in Parliamentary Debate are from North Central College..." That's me! That's us! Sarah's still looking at me. Um what do I do? Hug Sarah. Smile. Remember to smile. Don't throw up. Walk. Keep smiling. Shake Judy's hand. Oh, get hug from Judy. Take trophy. Don't cry. Keep smiling.
It was a bit intense. The moment was bittersweet because even though SB and I kicked a bunch of ass, two of our good friends who should have been standing up there, being state champions, were not. It's a little difficult to be happy when you know that you just lived the strange, alternate universe version of what really should have taken place.
The Boy and I are in a bit of a fight, but I'm not sure if he knows it. The problem with being good at talking about stuff I don't know a scrap of information about is that the ability to talk about personal issues gets sacrificed, so for now I'll just be content to be upset with him and assume he'll figure it out eventually. I'm a girl, it's allowed.
10 Days until No More School
11 Days until Lazy Week Extravaganza
33 Days until AFA-NIET
45 Days until NFA