Name: Delores Defacto
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I'm writing this month long awaited blog post here at almost 3AM. I care not to really get into any linkage or media savvy discussion because, as my picture indicates, I'm more apt to writing about, well, writing. So let's get to it, shall we?
I am almost done with my M.F.A. program. I'm happy and, at the same time, sort of meh...unfulfilled. I know that I took on this program for my own personal desire to work towards my heart's desire. I wanted to have deadlines and discussion and work done on my writing. When I took this program on last April, I was in the midst of my crappy workplace. So having something to glue me back to my sanity was necessary. And the program was taken on. Yay for me.
However, now I am wondering where I want to go from here. I'm at the much awaited cross roads in my life. (Huh, I wasn't intending on getting to this in my post this evening. But I guess it all is related.) The way I see it; I can write anywhere, by any means about anything. I can carry my legal pad or my spiral bound notebook out to the porch with my tea and write away. I could be anywhere and I could write a story or a journal entry or a poem (my new found, lovely thing to do right now -- even if I am drastically untalented in the art since I am no Dickinson or Whitman or W.C. Williams) and my life's purpose would be complete. I am still fervently convinced that my life has to be lead first and foremost and then my writing can echo it in a way to describe the pathways. It may be silly to say this but, yes, I want to "teach" the future readership of my little section of shelf at Borders one day that this is how things were for me and this is what I learned from it all.
But teaching, even after an interview at the community college, I'm not sure I can or will or want to still do it. (Although nothing tickles me the same way seeing a book about grammar sitting in my lap as someone leans over and discusses "curriculum" with me does. Aahh...) I still am thinking of going a different route in my educational realm since this English bit isn't really panning out. I even had a lady at another, separate interview, query to me, "Not to be disrespectful, but exactly why did you chose an English degree anyway?" I had to admit, "Because I love it." I mean, what other explanation can I give? I love books and I love writing. I never expected to be a millionaire, I always expected to sit at a desk and pour over facets of print media and write things in a little notebook, just as I did since as long as I can remember.
Anyway, so tonight I got some of what I was supposed to do tonight but I still have to work tomorrow. It is now 3:04AM and I was going to make an early morning tomorrow and head to the pool. Apparently not. I still have reading to do before I go to bed and I still have things to write; just for me. I can work anywhere, live anywhere and this is what will always be readily available. But as always I'm still behind in real progress. I will, however, it just takes me a while to get there. I am not so much envious anymore of all that people do because I know I have the potential and the ability in me to do all the things I want to do. Now I sort of just appreciate seeing what kinds of things are possible.
My other thing I wanted to mention was that my poor fishy has died. I noticed him looking a little sluggish and I kept trying to feed him and chat to him and encourage him to be okay but I guess two years for a fish is pretty good. He was the one that my friend at school last year gave me when her mother bought one each for our classrooms. The kids loved them but they did try to overfeed them or shake them to "see if they were dead." Very nice. I still remember when we had the hurricane that school year and I had to bring his big plant filled beta bowl in the car with me, to the apartment complex and up the stairs; very carefully. By the time we got back to school, once the hurricane passed, I figured there was no reason to subject him to further torture at the hands of middle school children, so I kept him in a little one gallon tank on the kitchen counter. And there he stayed until his toilet bowl funeral yesterday afternoon. Poor fishy.
So even though I'm working through all sorts of my past habits and lying them aside (ignoring the impulses and killing off all the bad thoughts, etc.) I still justified my impulse to get another fish. It was a nice, hot Sunday afternoon and I hadn't even left the house yesterday since my books kept me on the couch, at the computer, and on the porch for some fresh air -- still not out of the apartment. I reasoned that I needed some sunshine and fresh air, a ride, some music, a visit to my parents (Mom made chili; like I'm going to pass that up. Plus I got my letter from school about my financial aid; I have an email saying that my classes are paid for, yet a letter that says I still have an outstanding bill. Um...okay?) I then took a ride to get $10 worth of gas. Then went to Dollar General for $15 of: Cascade with Bleach, Purex laundry softener (cheap but it works), a stationary set ($2 and purple!), bottles of water and sugar free Bubble Yum (that is no where to be found anywhere except the Dollar Store it seems; that is my driving gum brand of choice because it is the only one that hold the capability of bubble blowing.)
Then I went to Petco. Now what I intended on getting was, say a couple of goldfish or angelfish or something that wouldn't have to be all by itself in my little tank. I know that Bruce dying was sad and it definitely ended a part of my past life for me and made me think about my classroom once again (also made me really think that I need to get on the ball and email my friend again and see how she is doing at school, however that may entail a social situation and I'll have to get to that later too.) I looked and looked at the store in the freshwater fish department. The lady working there assisted a middle aged lady and her daughter, then a mother with five or six (well behaved, mind you) children who were all getting fish for their aquarium. It was cute to hear them discuss with one another what their fish's names would be. However, it was not cute that I was never asked to be helped. I mean I mingled, I looked, I browsed, I even had a couple of aquarium supplies in my hand but nope, even as I looked around for the lady working there to come back, she never did. No one wanted to help the girl in the Halloween t-shirt. (It rules; it's orange with a big, black splashy painted raven on it.) Anyway, so since it was evident that no one was going to help me get a fish, I started realizing how much easier it would be to get a beta fish. I mean I had all the stuff for one and they are very, very easy to take care of. Plus, if I even did go anywhere (I still hold out hope!) putting a little feeder in there would be easy as pie, or even taking the little one gallon tank to have someone else feed him a couple times of day works fine. So I looked at the beta fish, already sad in their little plastic homes and I thought, "I should just rescue one of these guys and let them live in a nice, happy, aquarium in my kitchen." I love hearing the sound of the aquarium and I didn't want to put the silly tank away and not let it keep life in it as it should so, I found a fish! I was looking at a big, pretty medium blue fish but both Scott (my first beta who died quite a while ago) and Bruce were blue. I couldn't help but notice the little red guy who was sitting on the shelf staring straight at me. I kept thinking about the Velveteen Rabbit and how the toys on the shelf were sad when no one wanted to take them home. (They really shouldn't traumatize children with such ideas, especially those with overactive imaginations and a sensitive nature. I always think of things like that and feel bad for all of them. I always understood why Charlie Brown chose that little Christmas tree that needed a home the most. That's why I always choose the ones that are short and fat that no one else would really want. Sigh...) Anyway, so I picked up my new red fish and have named him Borges after the writer that I'm writing about for my class right now. (If my professor ever comes across this blog, I hope he feels quite proud that I chose this name.) I figured that Borges was Spanish speaking, the idea of red and bull-fighting came to mind and seemed like a suitable name; although I did research and discover that this is not a practice, apparently, in his homeland of Argentina. Sigh...oh well. The same is there so it shall stay. How else can I be expected to be a writer if I don't name my pets after literary figures or characters. (I still say the cat is named after Jacob Marley.)
I'm also very, very tired of my current situation. I never talk to anyone and I never want to go and do the same old things I use to do a while back. The club is just dead to me and I have no desire to go anymore. And when I did go out a while back I felt depressed for days afterwards. I've been getting like that lately when I'm out with people and feel like I just don't have any connection to any of it anymore. This has slowly been taking effect on my for a while and now I really see how I'm just over it where I am now. I am so ready for a change in this solitary little life.
And that's about it for this evening. It's now 4AM and I really should go grab my books and head to bed so I can get up at a hopeful decent hour and get back to work. Before I go for now (I'm sure my writing/education/unemployment topics will surface again soon; supposedly I'm getting that extension on unemployment like everyone else in the country!) I will leave you with one revelation that I made while working this evening. Sometimes typos are a good thing.
Love and Live are only one letter apart. You have to remove the "I", as in the selfish side of yourself, perhaps, to allow that center, that empty place in yourself to be filled. "I" can live, but "O" is the center, the core of love.
Photo credit: deloresdefacto
http://www.deloresdefacto.com/?p=89
I wrote this in my notebook as I was on my porch, smoking these old Camel lights that have been in one of my kitchen drawers for, oh a year now. I am like those stupid Become and EX commercials that talks about re-learning how to do certain things without cigarettes. For me, unfortunately, it's writing. I've tried to write an entry for a while about the internal stuff that's going on with me. There are some past actions and reaction, aside from writing without smoking, that I'm trying to unlearn.
Some months ago, I was lying in bed, wondering if I was going to be the girl who was always alone. Every past action indicated to that assumption. But I realized, that night, that it was me that was causing the empty bed and the lack of a friend-based relationship. I was alone because I had trained myself to believe that I was "supposed" to be alone. (What does that Interpol song say? "I'm sick of spending these lonely night, training myself not to care"?)
Now Lord knows that after having one guy say and do the worst, manipulative and dishonest things to me at a young age, when I thought that was all I could get, even thought I knew it was wrong, I was still hurt and discouraged. The idea of what "love" was to a man because a separate definition to what I defined the word to mean. Love meant calling me up, after tons of unanswered messages, telling me of his past conquests and hatred for my crying, even though "you know I still love you." So once I figured out that everything I believed in his words were empty, I went on to try the same routine with two other guys directly after my divorce. Each one turned around one day to say, "I don't understand what the big deal is" when they did something just as cruel. Hence, I became cemented in jealousy, anxiety, depression, guilt and disillusion.
And since those years long ago, I've sought after crushes who had the same kind of attitude towards me. They reeled me in, tossed me out, reeled me in, then berated me for having an emotional reactions to their inactions of care. Never once did I think I was choosing the wrong guys. Never once did it occur to me that I was setting myself up for failure on purpose because I didn't think I deserved anything else.
By being a single woman in my modern world, I have had plenty of firsthand experience on the long, arduous process of relationship discussions. We have books and movies and television shows and music and friends who all talk about men. We have to be "smart" girls. We can't put up with any man's crap. We have to (as Dr. Phil says) "teach people how to treat us." Men will do anything it takes to screw a woman over and we have to be on guard at all times. Basically, I have been fashioned into a bitch.
And since I have always been the one to be hurt, I never thought anything was my fault past not being beautiful, not being thin enough, not being like other girl who had husbands. I wasn't bitchy enough I supposed and Lord knows I got plenty of resentment in myself when I was called "bitter."
In the past month or so, something changed in me drastically. It was as if I finally saw myself on the inside and I found out that my past had been an excuse to carry a chip on my shoulder. I assumed all men were liars, cheaters, manipulators, skirt chasers and all-around jerks who delighted in nothing more than to push every button I had to make me crazy with anxiety and insecurity.
I started seeing that all this time, I was expecting people to say, "Oh, she's had it bad before, so she has a right to be distrusting." I had it said to me by women for years. I was set apart because I had this crappy past that I kept on call to use as a tool to week out any possible errors in a man's character that would potentially make him "just like the others."
But now I realize it's been me this whole time that's choosing to be bent out of shape over things that should be boxed up and buried. I am the one who accuses and assumes that every man is never going to be genuine or trustworthy or kind. So I set up fights and wait for an opportunity to pounce and say, "Ah ha! I knew it!" I lash out and keep myself "protected" instead of tearing down my wall that I took years to put up. I use to think, "I'll try with this (wrong) guy, but if it doesn't work (when I knew it wouldn't because he wasn't right for me), I'm putting another brick up and sealing myself off for good!" I wasn't going to be anyone's fool.
Nope, I've been my own fool all along. I saw mean and hurtful, unjust things. I get angry and jealous and worked up over nothing that is the actual truth -- I make up reasons to not try and let anyone in.
So unlearning all of this is what I've been trying to do recently. I realized that all of the things I have gone through is my reason for writing. I always figured that I'd be able to tell my future audience the things I learned along the way. What I wanted to write about is how I figured out, at age 32, that shutting the door in any man's face before they even try to know is anything but smart. I learned that it isn't that someone is going to have to save me from being hurt; I have to save myself from being someone to does the hurting. I've learned not to repeat my patterns, but to grow out of them and evolve.
I apologize for any rocks I may have kicked up as I tried to set myself on my path.
Photo credit: remotd
http://www.deloresdefacto.com/?p=88
I have to step up on my platform, and call all of my Orlando pals to hear my speech regarding our "City Beautiful".
I found a random slide show on Youtube entitled Downtown Orlando that depicts the daytime colors and buildings that we're all accustomed to, have grown familiar with and connect with as our place of "home." That's why when this wanker made the comment of, "don't go downtown at night . It's a very dangerous place" I had to take a stance.
While we have all discussed time and time again about how we miss our days at Cairo and our trips through Church Street, we still are trying to keep our night life and our culture alive. And I'm not just talking as far as music culture, I mean the "real" substance and history of Orlando.
But this guy, who lives in Windermere mind you, made comments about how only idiots go downtown and the only "culture" we have is tattoo parlors (incidentally, didn't they close that one down on Orange Avenue by the old Laser Tag place?)
So with this scare tactic mindset put in place, I had to retort by giving examples of what downtown is really about and how tourists are not going to be randomly shot while on Spring Break, trying to check out a club or a show on a Saturday night. I think what he's perceiving as downtown Orlando is the now defunct Church Street that we've all been moaning about for years now. That's something that hopefully will be renovated soon. Not that I have any interest in going down to any college pubs and watching naked women hand me a Jell-O shot, but, yes, we use to have a lot going on down there. But if you'll all recall, we also had the law passed that said the homeless were only allowed to stand on certain, marked areas of the sidewalk. The younger generation (as I was part of back then) was harassed by being pegged as a "gutter punk" who wanted nothing more than to loiter. After that happened we lost anything substantial on Wall Street Plaza and now we have the Cantina that targets, woo hoo, tourists.
By this man not living and being a real part of downtown Orlando for the past ten to fifteen years as I have, as everyone in town as been, the real essence of pride and home and culture and pride that we've been trying to support and promote time and time again, is being refuted by now putting fear into tourists minds that downtown is totally unsafe. Well, there's crime but there's crime in every city. That's common knowledge. Actually, the only time I had a problem with a break in of my car (and a handful of other people I knew who were targeted at the same time) was ten years ago when this nesnman guy is saying was safer. So much for what he knows.
I just wanted to send my opinions out to anyone in town who may read this and see what had gotten me so worked up about. All of us are trying to build up our town and to have someone say that only the theme park areas are "safe" just makes me irate. Unfortunately this is probably the opinion of many cash heavy snow birds who put money into big corporations and leave the smaller businesses to crumble. This is why we have lost so many clubs, restaurants, pubs and decent shows to the overly expensive Disney/Universal/MGM machine.
I've made a list of links and historical and cultural items that make up the real Orlando that we're proud to have thriving to this day. As I stated in my YouTube comment, "Walt would be appalled at what Disney has become these days."
Orlando is also home to the University of Central Florida, which is the second largest university in Florida in student enrollment and has the 6th largest enrollment in the nation.
Orlando is home to the Orlando Magic, an NBA pro basketball franchise that plays at Amway Arena in downtown Orlando. Led by Shaquille O'Neal, the Magic made it to the NBA Finals in 1995. Orlando's Amway Arena, opened in 1989 is already one of the oldest arenas in the NBA. It will be replaced around 2010 by the $480-million Orlando Events Center.
Orlando Public Library, the main downtown library of the Orange County Library System, which features 15 locations system wide. Situated on an entire city block in the heart of downtown Orlando, the library is an epicenter for arts and cultural events, educational and entertainment resources, and solitude.
The Kerouac House, in the College Park neighborhood of Orlando, is where writer Jack Kerouac lived during the time his novel On the Road was published and released, making him a national sensation and Beat Generation icon. He lived in the house with his mother Gabrielle from July 1957 to the spring of 1958, and wrote his three-act play, The Beat Generation, a 51-chorus poem called Orlando Blues, and the novel The Dharma Bums during his time there. In 1997, the Kerouac Project of Orlando formed, and restored the Kerouac house. It is now a haven for aspiring writers who can live in the house as they create their own work.
Eatonville is a town in Orange County, Florida, six miles north of Orlando. It was one of the first all-black towns to be formed after the Emancipation Proclamation in 1863 and, on August 15, 1887, was the first such town to be incorporated. Zora Neale Hurston grew up there. Every winter, Eatonville stages its annual Zora Neale Hurston Festival of the Arts and Humanities and the Zora Neal Hurston Library.
Harry P. Leu Gardens, which is an inner city oasis covering 50 acres (20,000 m²) and features colorful annuals, palms, an orchid house, a floral clock and a butterfly garden.
The Orlando Museum of Art is Orlando's largest modern art museum. Located in Loch Haven Park, the museum has ongoing exhibitions of American portraits and landscapes, American impressionist works, and art of the ancient Americas. In 2003, the museum hosted the world-renowned full exhibition of the famous glass sculptor, Dale Chihuly.
The Orlando Metropolitan Area is also home to a substantial theatre population. Several professional and semi-professional houses and many community theaters dot the area including Orlando-UCF Shakespeare Festival, Orlando Repertory Theatre (Central Florida's only Professional Theatre for Young Audiences), Orlando Theatre Project, Starlight Dinner Theatre, Mad Cow Theatre, Theatre Downtown, The Osceola Center for the Arts, Winter Park Playhouse, Theatre Winter Haven, IceHouse Theatre, and Seaside Music Theatre. Orlando also hosts the Orlando International Fringe Theater Festival every summer.
Church Street Station, a multi-level shopping mall and entertainment center that once featured an abundance of specialty shops, restaurants, nightclubs, and bars. Purchased in the late 1990s by TransContinental Talent owner Lou Pearlman, it is now virtually defunct, as the area suffered in post-9/11 tourist-industry slump. The area is being redeveloped with residential condominiums. Now closed due to bankruptcy and is due to be bought over.
Based on the Morgan Quitno Press "Safest and Most Dangerous Cities of 2007" rankings, Orlando ranks #11 nationaly. It's to be noted that the American Society of Criminology (ASC) and the FBI object to such rankings and use of data stating "These rankings represent an irresponsible misuse of the data and do groundless harm to many communities" and don't take into account "factors that influence crime in a particular study area such as population density and the degree of urbanization".
Orlando for Adults - The New York Times
Orlando Sentinel - Downtown Blog
Wikipedia - Downtown Orlando
Review Orlando
And, ironically or not in the news today:
Tourist Robbed At Hotel Near Disney
Photo credit: NY Times
http://www.deloresdefacto.com/?p=87
Okay W.Bloggar, let's update, shall we?
I was going to write a whole opinion based Lost entry but I soon grew too distracted for such things. It's an on going theorem based cult following that can't be summarized in the mere limitations of a blog post. Besides, I watched the silly thing twice now and I just want to know how the next season (which starts in flipping 2009) will be constructed. Everyone off the island then going back and showing what "bad things" happened after Jack left? And Claire, hello? What the hell happened to her? Does no one care about Claire? Will she be sending us secret messages through extra clips on the extended version Season 4 DVD or what? She looked like she'd been snatched by aliens last time they showed her though.
Then I have the school situation to mention. My "manuscript" if that's what we're still calling it, has been reviewed by my professor. Neither of us had contacted one another for a while because he was on vacation or something and I was just over it (I still have a story or two to type up and I just don't feel compelled to do so. I even have a very crappy story that I wrote a month or so ago that sounds like something out of Gossip Girl so I'm going to pretend that 30 minutes of my life never happened. I was told that all in all my stories with scenes rather than dialogue win out and then I was referred to Hemingway (ah ha!) and was asked what I wanted to do with my work at this point. Well, I have to finish the little statement paper that I never bothered to finish plus the other couple of fake letters to the editor that I also didn't even bother writing. I'll have to get back with him on Monday with a "will finish other paperwork, what other options do I have?" type of response.
But the story that he said was most compelling was that one that will be in the literary journal that I am getting three copies of. I seriously hope the Editor in Chief fixed that baby up because after a second opinion, I was pointed to some clerical errors. My professor just asked me, "What's up with that?" Grr... But aren't writers and their teachers suppose to fight about this stuff? Maybe I'm just going through the motions of being something of a point of interest to the world in the future.
As long as I don't end up on Oprah, I'll be fine...
To go along with my writing work that has been sorely neglected lately (just as this blog has been), I now have a new class to take: my first of three literature classes. I am taking an online literary criticism class that consists of Power Point presentations, one hour long online examinations of the presentations (no book or notes to print out or anything) plus discussion that we have to post about one of our reading assignments and then respond to three, not two like every other class has asked, but three every week. There are also papers involved as usual and the workload is obnoxious for someone who is A.) almost finished with this program and B.) already taken this class at the undergrad and grad level and has since stored it away as knowledge that I only need to use at certain times, like watching a movie that obviously needs a good feminist critic thrown at it. Sigh...
But I will do it, I will get it done and I'll be a better person for it, or something. If the reading assignments weren't boring and/or things I'd already read before, I wouldn't be so irritated with the whole thing. I mean, this would be like requiring someone with in a computer science program to take an Advanced Windows Applications class.
Other than that, I've not really talked to anyone except for random visits, email or phone calls to any of my gals about town. I did watch Control finally (ironically the premise for a welcomed catch up call that I received early last night) and I'm telling you, if Debbie would have just kicked Annik's ass (I love that that girl doesn't have a Wikipedia page, by the way) then 85% of Ian Curtis' problems could have possibly been solved. But that's just the Southern gal in me I guess. Hhmmm. The movie was shot very nice though and all the actors were brilliant. Sam Riley is a good crier, he drew me in a few times with that, and Samantha Morton was the only person who could have played that role.
In job and finance news, nothing. Still nothing. The government told me that I would be getting that extra money last week, yet, it is no where to be found. It took one day for them to send the letter from Atlanta, telling me how much I was getting and when the check would be sent. Why is it taking two weeks to get the actual check?
So I keep up with my job applications (although I haven't had the deranged motivation to over submit resumes like I was before because obviously that's not helping; luck or fate or divine intervention is going to be the only way my future will be saved.), plus my loans (am I even getting any more of these things for this term) and the possibility of unemployment at the end of Summer which may or may not even be attainable again. My parents keep saying that I should "look back into teaching", making my blood pressure and anxiety rise at the subject. If they asked me if I would rather teach public school or work at Target at the unemployment office, I would go with stock girl in a heart beat. I don't want to lose anymore vital organs or grapples of sanity by handing myself over to the DOE again. I get nauseous just thinking about it.
And on that cheery, closing note, I will also mention that while I've written this blog post, there has been a car alarm going off down the street for a full two hours. If someone doesn't take care of that thing soon, I'm going down there with a bat myself...(I'll borrow one from the neighbor kids in the parking lot.)
I didn't sleep well last night because I was all upset about not being able to take my poor ass to the movies, then using the cash I did have to eat pepperoni and sausage pizza from Domino's. I swear, having heavy food like that on my stomach at night just gives me nightmares. I woke up at five in the morning and couldn't go back to sleep. Then at six, the cartoon were playing on Nick at Nite so I couldn't even watch cheesy 80s sitcoms. And now that I've slept and showered and have coffee in my hand, that car alarm is enough to make me take out all my aggression out on a random, unsuspecting vehicle.
However, as I was closing this entry up, my fire alarm started that now and again low battery beep (just like at Jack Shephard's hospital! After all, He is the de facto male lead and the primary protagonist of the series. Weird.) and upon trying to change the nine-volt battery, I successfully broke the whole damn thing. Very nice. Maybe I need to disconnect that cars' battery with a stolen bat to make me feel better. Nah, I'll just eat some pizza instead.
Photo credit: deloresdefacto
http://www.deloresdefacto.com/?p=86
Okay. Since it's been long since I decided that I should update my blog with, yet another, random list of things, I will do so today. Again, there's not a whole lot going on and this is the easiest way to make an entry. Here goes:
-- I'm still pondering going out tonight for the Barbs Reunion.
-- It sucks that it costs, at last visit to the gas station, $37 to fill up my tank.
-- I have a couple of writing contests that I want to enter but, alas, that costs money as well. Didn't someone say at one time, to not bother paying for such thing anyway?
-- I'm still working my way through the wonderful world of Coetzee by keeping Diary of a Bad Year instead of returning it the the library. I've had it since March I think.
-- I finished Out Stealing Horses this week though. It was one of those that, after reading the last line, I shut the book and muttered, "F&*$, that's good." My professor was adamant on this one and I didn't want to be so easily swayed by opinion but, alas, he was right.
-- I got caught up with Fran on The Tudors. Good Lord, those guys were some evil bastards. I had nightmares about the last episode we saw that showed the torture and beheading spree.
-- I am prepared to tape all three hours of Lost this Thursday. We have extra footage, plus the two hour season finale to discuss later on. Right now I'm betting that the last episode will be about Claire. We also discussed that maybe the island brought Christian Shephard back to life and that the freighter will blow up because Sun and Aaron are the only ones of the Oceanic Six who aren't in the room with the explosives. Now, as to who the other two people are supposedly survived the crash but later died, had better be freaking explaining because that's driving me up a wall (as is everything else on this show.)
-- I am not getting my tax refund bonus money until this month because apparently since I had the processing fees with TurboTax taken out before my refund was deposited. I don't get why this extra cash can't be sent electronically as well but, eh, at least they're sending me something (although, I think I count as the poorest of the poor and will only get the minimum amount.)
-- I need, and do not currently have money for: Frontline for the cat, my allergy pills, money for my insurance and going out cash. Seems though the insurance money will obviously have to come first and everything else will just have to wait.
-- I found my Ophelia painting from my old office and I tacked it up in my bedroom, since my walls are so bare. But then I got all antsy about staring at the damn thing at night and worrying about if it was even (since I have no frame to put it in right now) so I got on a chair and tacked it up in the hallway instead. That poster has been through a hundred attempts at staying up on a wall. It has rips and folds and holes punched in it on all corners. I remember when one of my seniors first saw that hanging in my office he said, "Wow, Miss. That painting is...uh...pretty intense." After I explained who she was, I think he was a little more at ease with my artistic tastes in office decor.
-- I took this picture of my desk after I got done with my cleaning spree. I have a lamp that actually puts out some light (for only $5) and a small stack of papers and items listed to be dealt with in the near future. By the way, the little notepaper reads, "To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment." Ralph Waldo Emerson. I found that when I was cleaning the desk up. Now I'm using it for my current work theme. I love Emerson.
-- I was ready to throw said lamp out the window last week when IE 7 kept crashing. Sure, crash recovery is fine, but crashing all the time for no apparent reason is not. I did some Windows updates, ran a couple of free virus and spyware detectors, plus removed the Share This button on my toolbar. I didn't have this problem before I added the button and my spyware mentioned a problem with my toolbar so...
And that's about it. Nothing else going on really. I have my little routine around here that keeps my mind occupied as I keep trying to find work, write my stories, get some cash, get some new books, get back to getting back I guess you could say.
Photo credit: deloresdefacto
http://www.deloresdefacto.com/?p=85
I finally got accepted for publication!
After going through the voting process for the school's lit journal, I received a preliminary list of those submissions that were voted on; mine was not. However, the editor in chief said that we could suggest two more that weren't on the list and, of course, I voted for myself again. (I'm starting to feel like a band geek who wants to be prom queen.) What got me the most was not only did no one, out of the eight on the editors panel, aside from myself even cared about the five stories that I wrote, but they chose the hackneyed potty humor or the overly sympathetic memoirs over my work that I've always tried to have as actual literature. (I never even wanted to go the chick lit route.)
But the editor in chief, today, said that one of my stories that I had suggested, was on the borderline (whatever that means) so she would put it in this coming edition. I had chosen two stories, on my last vote, that were the ones I was most satisfied and proud of myself after finishing. The one they picked was the one that was a "risk" (as my professor would say) so maybe he had a hand in that selection. Whatever the reason, I'm glad I got my work put to some public use, just as I always wanted it to.
It's a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. I'm not going to let the fact that it's a small college's literary journal that I "work" for, stamp out my enthusiasm from finally having what I want of my future, to come a little closer to my present.
Photo credit: fsse-info
http://www.deloresdefacto.com/?p=84
Good Lord, this has been forever since I've written an update. Oh well, as I said last time, there's nothing that poignant or relatively memorable to mention lately.
I finished up my submissions and editing and judging on submissions duties for my school's lit magazine. I have a handful of stories I sent in (yes, I voted for myself) and a couple of book reviews. Even if one story gets added to this Spring/Summer edition, that will be one small step for my writing kind. At least I got everything done for the magazine that I said I would. There's, of course, the matter of my actual classes though and I haven't quite put everything together yet. But at least financial aid finally came through with my tuition money so I'm not longer getting late payment notices in the mail.
Still no work but I keep sending out the silly resumes. I read on Orlando Jobs that a lot of people are doing the same thing I'm doing and posting their resumes to every online job site they come across and it's not working. While it's not good news to know that all this pointless effort has been exerted for months now, it is nice to know that I'm not the only one out here who is getting sick and tired of getting scam replies, or no replies at all.
But with this time on my hands I've been reading and working and trying my hardest to just get caught up on all the things I want to do with my time. Cleaning has been one of my main objectives as well. It's sad that, honestly, not having to have your life wasted day by day, working for someone else, worrying about someone else's meaningless rules and guidelines, and having your life for yourself isn't as easy as it really should be. Hopefully once I have my degree in, I can work for some online colleges as well as adjunct for the local community colleges and then I'll at least be working in my desired field. While the idea of having a job that lacks a lot of responsibility, like a secretary, does sound awfully nice, I probably would, as most people say they do, get bored with it really quick. But, again, all of this time of running around, having complete freedom to do what I want; I can see why people opt for being poor and true to themselves, or, hell, marrying for money, just so they can stay home and only worry about themselves from 9-5. Too bad we have to rely on someone else to hand us over some cash every two weeks, otherwise we'd all be a hell of a lot happier.
Anyway, the brush fires, and the wind, and the high pollen count and the fact that it's now sping time, are all making my allergies kick into high gear. I've had that gross, sicky head and stomach feeling all day because of all of this stuff in the air.
My parents are on their way back from Ohio so I'm sure coming through the state will be oodles of fun since the traffic was, last time I watched the news, at a parking lot stand-still in some places. Very nice. I can't wait for my parents to get back. I am totally ready for an excuse to buy a belated Mother's Day cake. Those two mini cupcakes I had earlier just didn't cut it (but I'm sure they helped my stomach, huh?)
And while I'm at it, I'll mention that Lost has been really good and I'm liking the two theories that either Jacob is related to everyone on the island, or is just the manifestation of whoever goes into the cabin (meaning "Jacob" tells them what they already know or want to hear.) I'm going to cry this week, I've already decided. After seeing the trailer where the plane door opens to see people waiting for them at home; you know they're going to have all that dramatic music and will make it as emotional as possible. I love that show! Now that Charlie is dead or whatever (I'm still waiting for him to come swimming to shore one of these days), I've thrown all of my love and devotion to Locke as my favorite character (for many different reasons, of course.) But, nonetheless, I still can't get that image of Jack without a scar, running around in a towel with his matador physic. Television just doesn't get any better than that.
Speaking of which, I have to mention the two new discoveries for the Brit Guy collection: Jonas Armstrong, (good name, by the way), who is the new Robin Hood (where has he been these past two years; I've just now seen the ads, and the show, on BBC America) and Ben Barnes (another good name), who is Prince Caspian (I didn't think he was that great looking at first and was actually kinda disappointed that they chose him, but after seeing him on an interview, I totally changed my mind.)
Photo credit: roman
http://www.deloresdefacto.com/?p=83
Since I don't really have anything to report in a blog update, I snagged this picture and decided to make, yet another, random list of things to mention:
-- After watching The Shape of Things to Come last week, I can see how they're making it seem as if Sawyer is going to die, along with Claire and, hence, the baby, Aaron will have to be taken with Hurley, Kate and Jack. For the first time, I actually felt a tad sorry for Ben and I loved how they're (seemingly?) tying up some loose ends as far as how things happened and what exactly the black smoke is. (Time travelling black hole that brings animals, people, etc. back and forth through time. If you get stuck in a black hole, you get eaten up into oblivion.) But Sawyer simply can't die and I'm sure he's going to hide from the "bad guys" and find Locke while everyone else leaves the island.
-- Something Nice Back Home, tomorrow's episode, doesn't have any info online yet, but according to my cable box info: "Juliet and Kate must work together to save Jack when his health is seriously compromised; something goes wrong as Sawyer, Claire, Miles and Aaron head back to the beach." Again, they're trying to hint at Sawyer having something happen to him so he may or may not die along with Claire. I wonder whose flashback / flashforward will be the focus for this episode. I'm guessing Claire since she's probably going to be killed off soon.
-- Speaking of what happened when and how everyone is connected, Dominic Monaghan was on MadTV with a "Domi-Lost" skit. It's not as funny as SNL would do (because I never watch MadTV and don't care for anyone on the show as far as I've ever in the past) but I'm glad I happened to see that this was on. This other skit was wrong but funny as hell.
-- Aside from Lost (which I was so glad to have back, by the way), we only have four more episodes of The Tudors left. I must say, I am very happy with the character change that Henry is taking on. I like that, despite his conscience telling him that killing More is wrong, he is so bloody arrogant and hot headed, that he has to go along with his original ideas, just so he won't admit that he was wrong. And I can totally see how he's going to see the opportunity to change his mind, without taking blame, after Katherine dies and killing Anne off will give him a fresh start in the legitimate, male heir, please England, love me again, department. I also like how Jonathan Rhys Meyers is getting a bit bigger and taking on the shape of a Greek statue. No complaints here. I just wish his eyes didn't make him look like he'd been snatched by aliens from time to time.
-- In personal news, nothing, I repeat, nothing else has been going on. I got a call from a place I applied for as a secretary last week. The guy went over my information and said he'd call back but never did. {shrug} So all I can count on is the school loan money that will come supposedly by the end of summer (which isn't much of a relief since we haven't even started summer yet.) But I have stuff to do for my grad program's literature magazine so that will give me the much needed incentive to get the work that I've been putting off done in a couple of weeks.
-- Since things have been so boring lately, it's hard to want to be jazzed about what I'm reading and working on. I mean, I have fleeting moments of glee when I come up with some interesting plot twist or opinion on the author I've pick up from the shelf (the library has been sending me bills already because one of my shelves is full of three month overdue books.) But all in all, it's a very humdrum kind of routine I have around here. If there were anything exciting, I'd be more inclined to discuss something other than random acts of television watching.
-- I did clean up the sidebar on my blog so that the widgets wouldn't (presumably) slow the site down. I can't stand how the new Wordpress widget editor is set up though. You're supposed to drag and drop them where you want them in the sidebar but, instead, they run off to the bottom or top of the screen once you unclick them in the spot you want them to be in. It's like trying to color within the lines with an optical mouse. They're only so much hand-eye coordination that I can handle at a time, especially when I'm doing a trial and error system to see what script codes will work in the widget text boxes.
So anyway, that's all I have to put on the electronic blog table right now. I am sure I'll think of something interesting in the next couple of days but until then, I'm going back to the television, the bookshelf, the legal pad and the Word files. There's so much I still have to get done.
And this is nice. Now that Keith told me that I "should get rid of the UTW plugin, as it doesn't work in any version of WP past 2.3 anyway..." in order for CTC to work, I lost all of my tags. Very nice. I just had to reload and activate UTW again so my post tags would come back. Now they're in my post editor but they don't show up in the preview. Sigh...what's happening with this?
Photo credit: Rolling Stone
http://www.deloresdefacto.com/?p=82
Here I am again. Unmotivated, unsuccessful, unpublished, undesirable, uneducated, unmarketable, unemployed me.
I applied for at least 50 jobs online today. The only phone calls I got back were from the phone company who had to change my service for me because I can't afford frivolous things like Caller ID, some credit card collection agencies and my mother.
Sometimes the creditors even like to call my mother to in hopes of either finding me or driving my whole family (even more?) insane.
I even went as far as to send some applications in the mail (because I'm not snotty enough to dismiss potential employment from someone who doesn't even have an email address). One place had me fill out the paper application for each job again even though I've done this, and sent my resume / cover letter / transcript / references file to them in bulk this year. So there I was, printing out a paper application that I got online, mind you, from a higher educational system at that, and had to hand write all my information out, then write the job codes in pencil, scan and fax each page (a long distance call by the way...the phone company pointed that out when I swore to them that I just needed local phone service.) Then I had to erase the job code, write the new one, scan and fax again. I did this for about 5 jobs. Then there were the online applications that only by the grace of God and modern technology allowed me to "quick apply" for each one that said anything about "receptionist" and "Orlando".
In some ways it was a productive day. Don't they say that the hardest job is finding a job? And they probably said that before the wonders of online resume building.
And how do I stay so positive, you may ask? Well, I have finally figured out that all this time, as cliche as it sounds, chocolate and soap operas does make a girl feel good. Granted I had reduced fat Oreo cookies (4 a day) and watch The Tudors but all in all, it's something that just helps make the emotional wishy-washy stuff melt away.
And actually it's helped my weight too. I don't eat much as far as nutrition goes, but I stay very satisfied with milk and cookies and an occasional peanut butter sandwich (reduced fat on low calorie bread, of course) makes the cravings for "bad things" not so apparently at midnight when I'm trying to get myself to sleep. I've also noticed that the old fun of chronic heartburn decides to come back early in the morning when I haven't eaten anything for twelve hours. I swear, that alone made me have nightmares about being at my old job. Last night I pictures myself at a desk, having to fill out an application saying I'd willingly give it another year as a teacher with my administration all looking down on me in glee to have me as a torture victim again. The English Renaissance could have included that mental abuse in their attempts at punishment and confession. {shudder}
Anyway, it's freaking freezing outside as my fellow Floridians know. It's 61 out and I have the heater running, soup in my belly and flannel penguin pajamas on. Weren't we getting excited for Spring last week?
And, I still have work to do, what's new? If any kind of effort produced a mild hint of progress, I think I'd be way more into writing again. For now, everything just sits here, untyped, unsubmitted, unedited or unfinished. I recall a time, some months ago, when I worked a lot. I'm trying to get back into the full swing of working constantly but a million voided hours does not equal a million reasons to keep trying. (Unfortunately.)
I did, however, take thirty minutes to write an ode to all the crazy guys I've ever had in my life. I didn't realize it before, but most of the guys I'm into are 5'11" to 6'3". And I always said that size didn't matter. Hhmm... I sent my "Crazy Guy Timeline" in an email to Laura per our "men who are losing their hair should just go ahead and shave it" conversation. Yup, I enjoy being a girl.
http://www.deloresdefacto.com/?p=81
So for the next episode in the sitcom that is my life...
I went to my parents' for dinner because they promised to greet me with pizza. I had a small one to myself and I ate the whole thing. That, some fat free chips and a cup of apple sauce was all I had today so I'm not guilty for eating so much. It was good and it was worth every single calorie and fat gram I ingested from each slice.
I sat around and helped Dad set up his new scanner and then decided to take a trip to a couple of stores just to walk off some of my dinner. After walking through Staples for a while and getting irritated that the only wide rule, hard cover notebook they had was $5 (Why does everyone want college ruled anymore? It's so...Limiting.) I then decided to go to Target.
I look through the clothes for a while and hear a girl yelling at her boyfriend. "Oh you want me to lower my voice? You don't want me to make an f-ing scene? Well I'll make an f-ing scene if you're going to f-ing talk to me like that..." Blah, blah, blah. And I didn't look up to see what the couple looked like but from the girl's words and actions, I guessed she was some 20 something twit who had no idea how to act in public or how to keep a guy's pride in tact. (When they act like an ass, either let it go or wait until you're in private, then let him have it.) Now, mind you this was 8:30 at night, so there were plenty of people in the store to hear this crap and Lord knows that girl wanted all of the negative attention that she could get.
After getting an earful of that, I listen to a dad, whose son has asked him "Why can't I have this toy?", reply to his kid with, "Because I'm the ruler of your life and I always will be and don't you forget it." I hear some guy mocking his girlfriend's choice in clothes and I think to myself, "Dear Lord, this is why I don't want to get married..."
However, I wander through the shoes, then the media section and find Jack White on the cover of Rolling Stone and all hope is restored. (Jack White equals a gold star day.) So I'm looking at the magazine, minding my own affair, and the stupid girl who was fighting with her boyfriend ten minutes earlier is on her cell phone, talking at the top of her lungs to one of her friends, while she stands in the aisle, breaking my concentration. She says in the phone the following:
"I was going to break up with him two weeks ago and I should have and now he's going to f-ing dump me after my f-ing husband just died!" (I was guessing a prison brawl or an over-dose.) "How can he f-ing treat someone like that in public? I've done some bad things but I at least f-ing care about people. It's karma. He'll get exactly what he f-ing deserves. I'm going to wear my party dress and paint the town red and he'll f-ing see what he missed out on..."
And here comes the best part. For those of you who don't know, one of the stadiums where they do Spring Training for Major League Baseball is around here.
"I can't believe I gave up a night hanging out with the pitcher for The Nationals to hang out with a guy who dumped me...I know he's not good looking but I should give him a shot. I always date rock star, loser guys. Like, oh you have a job and a car, sorry can't help you. But the pitcher will be in town for another few weeks because he lives in Washington...""
When I called Fran to recount this story to her, we laughed about this part hysterically. I looked at the girl a few times and she wasn't anything more than some white trash girl who would some day end up auditioning for a part on Rock of Love. Whatever delusions that girl was under, I seriously hope she seeks help and soon.
Oh yeah, she also mentioned to her friend that she was going to "go home to my kid, read my book and remember who I am." Uh huh. Good luck with that one. I can't even imagine being that crazy. At least that guy dumped her when he did. As Fran said, "I would have left her at Target too!"
But at least this made my evening a bit interesting. I've still had the stiff neck and the lack of motivation to get my work done. At least today, making myself ditch the nap for a shower and venture around town proved worthy. Now I have an amusing story, a full belly, a visit with my parents (that didn't drive me insane), a good conversation with my friend, a magazine to entertain me (too bad I'm too much of a fuddy duddy now to cut the pics out and put on my fridge next to Jonathan Rhys Meyers and myself; we look good together) and some super cute bathroom decor. I ditched the black and white motif for the time being because they had a stack of the ever enticing clearance items. I bought a shower curtain that is white cotton with green sketches of bath items on it; duckies, toothbrushes, soaps, tubs, razors, etc. Then one each of the pastel hand towels that match, as well as the package of washcloths to complete the collection. All in all; approximately $5 and totally springtime appropriate.
I've been noticing lately, with the weather change, that I'm recalling the times of early spring when I was a kid. Isn't it funny how you can walk out into a warm, sunny morning and remember have the same feeling you did when stepping out onto the playground after lunch?
Speaking of which, yes, the title of the post is from a Jem and the Holograms song.
Photo credit: rborja
http://www.deloresdefacto.com/?p=80
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