Life Insurance

My mom thinks I am going to kill myself here in California. Or a serial killer will get me.
I talked to my sister and found out she wants to take out a life insurance policy for me.
Really?
Really.
I guess this way, she can make sure she won't have any out-of-pocket expenses for my burial.
Don't make the mistake of telling this lady you are feeling sick or lethargic.
If you tell her this about your dog, she'll advise putting him to sleep.
I hope I don't feel sick or lethargic anytime soon, or it'll be lights out for me!

Manners

The Department of Public Etiquette welcomes you aboard as a cadet of Etiquette Police certification program. This course will provide you with some very useful information on dealing with varied social situations for a polished and professional outlook. This course is divided into the following five units:

1. Dine like a diplomat
2. Business Etiquette
3. Cultural Notes
4. Wedding Etiquette
5. Potpourri

This was in an email I received after looking up etiquette online. The Ettiquette Police are a free online training course sponsored by outside organization:

Sounds great, doesn't it?
The sponsoring business is WalkTall ELEVATOR SHOES!

I tried to sign up for the class before I did my research but fortunately, or unfortunately for my manners, it seemed like the equivalent of a "beard." Guys obsessed with appearances and manners would clearly be up for some elevator shoes, it seems.

I've never had a need for elevator shoes, thankfully. I haven't stuffed my bra either. What can I say? I'm blessed.

Etiquette Police, I think it is terrible manners to lead me to a site that doesn't teach me any of the above, highlighted etiquette. Maybe I'm mistaken, maybe I can get that course if I follow up on a long list of nonsense, but you are a long way from Emily Post.

Help Wanted

This was the "Help Wanted" and classified ads in the alternative weekly that was interested in me as a freelancer.

2 listings under "Employment" available.
Really?
For all of San Diego?
Go figure.

No wonder everything is like a cattle call.

Art / Media / Design • Auditions • General • Accounting/Finance • Career Training/Schools • more…
Clerical • Computer/Technical • Domestic • Driver/Delivery • Education • Entertainment • Focus Group • Health Care • Internships • Job Wanted • Management • Office • Part-time • Restaurant/Hotel/Club • Retail • Sales & Marketing • Salon • Trades/Labor • TV/Film/Video • Web Design • Writing/Editing
Employment (2)
Accounting/Finance (0)
Art / Media / Design (0)
Auditions (0)
Career Training/Schools (0)
Clerical (0)
Computer/Technical (0)
Domestic (0)
Driver/Delivery (0)
Education (0)
Entertainment (0)
Focus Group (0)
General (0)
Health Care (0)
Internships (0)
Job Wanted (0)
Management (0)
Office (0)
Part-time (0)
Restaurant/Hotel/Club (0)
Retail (0)
Sales & Marketing (1)
Salon (0)
Trades/Labor (0)
TV/Film/Video (1)
Web Design (0)
Writing/Editing (0)

The Great American Job Hunt 2009

Since I worked at Sausagefest, I've continued the job search.

9 more gigs during football season is definitely NOT going to be enough to make it here.

I've taken care of a lot of the preliminary steps toward getting a job, so when a position opens up, I can slide right in. The only problem is: nothing is open right now.

After I got laid off in Alaska (Yes, that's why I left, it sucked. That's another story though) I decided to come here because I was SO tired of being COLD.

San Diego has been great for that. Lots of sun, lots to do. The only thing lacking here is jobs. It sucks. I have been here since July 29 and with the exception of the first few days I was here, I've been on the job hunt steady.

I don't pass out too many applications on weekends. I might email in some resumes, but weekends I also generally take off from the struggle. I did, however, have a job interview this Saturday. I was hired to cocktail waitress for an upscale banquet temp service, which is awesome, but sporadic.

I have applied to no less than 20 employers. I sort of lost count, actually, because there have been so many. As of today, I have actually had 4 different employers hire me/express interest. Nevertheless, I have only worked one shift. I will be working at the Sausagefest again on Friday. It will be awesome, but I need more to pop off soon. Especially for all this effort.

Today, I already picked up an application at the Bahia/Catamaran Resort, which is right on Mission Bay. The lady in HR told me they are currently on a hiring freeze, but accepting applications for Reservation Sales people. Doesn't sound very promising.

Yesterday, I submitted an application to be a Barista at a drive-thru coffee shop. I don't know why I wouldn't get that job. I have experience serving food AND being a barista. There is no good reason why I shouldn't be hired except this is California and with everyone being so flaky and busy dreaming, it seems like not all that much gets accomplished.

Saturday I got hired for the Black Tie Banquets. Awesome. Friday, I don't think I got much done, maybe applied online for something? On Thursday I spent the afternoon in Ocean Beach, which I like pretty well, but it was for not-so-promising open interviews.

On Thursday, I caught the bus around 10:15 to head to Ocean Beach. It's a pretty chill area, full of hippies and beach bums. I had to change busses in Old Town and the second bus got pretty packed, so an old beach bum sat down next to me.

He introduced himself as David and said he's a street musician. That generally indicates he's homeless as well, but I didn't really say anything besides 'cool'. He said he just got back from 3 months in Spain. The man clearly wanted to tell his story. With the exception of watching for my stop, I had nothing better to do than listen, so I was in.

"You can see my tan from Spain, right here" he said, picking up his sleeve to reveal a modest farmer's tan.

"I've been getting a tan now that I've been in San Diego too," I said.

"Yeah, I played music out there too. I got there to play music because I play music here too," he said, then named the streets where he usually plays.

He asked what I was doing and I told him I was heading to an open call for a restaurant hiring in OB. He told me to make sure I pushed Fast, Friendly, Efficient Service as my strengths. It made sense. He really kind of pumped me up for the interview, actually, so it was good.

He looked over at me and told me how he gets to Spain each year.

"I play, even while all the other guys take a break, smoke a cigarette, talk. I just keep playing. Look at this," David said, and picked up his right hand to reveal a gnarly, calloused thumb.

"This my friend, is called persistence. It's how I do all that I get to do. Make $41 a day, save $30. $30 a day, every day for a month, well, that's $900 a month."

We came to my stop and said our goodbyes. I filed away the information I got from my life coach in Ocean Beach.

The open interviews took place from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. I arrived at 11:30 and got the last of their applications, so a member of management was sent out to pick up more because the people certainly didn't stop coming after I got there. It was crazy!

I signed in as #71. Seriously. It felt a little bit like a cattle call for a feature film. All the tables they set aside for potential applicants were filled, so I found a chair and placed it in one of the only areas that wasn't a walkway or already occupied. The marine layer had burned off by that point so of course this spot was in the hot hot heat of the sun.

Management worked its way down the list with interviews. I filled out my app. Some spaces cleared, so eventually I relocated to one of 2 empty chairs at a table closer to the entranceway of this outdoor patio where we were corralled. The chair was still in the sun, but also near a plant, so I backed into the plant and it provided minimal relief.

Eventually, the girl next to me relocated to a shaded chair that had just opened across the aisle. This chair was completely in the shade, but the homegirl next to me vacated a chair that was partially in the shade. I snagged the sorta-shaded chair she had abandoned and as time passed, was thankful the sun moved so my chair eventually became fully shaded as well.

By the time I was called (roughly 1 1/2 hours after my arrival) I had already melted, but I was beginning to recover since I had the comforts of shade. I interviewed with a guy named Paul. He was adorable and flirty, so that was fun, but I don't think he liked hearing that I don't have a car. I didn't really like saying it either, but I'm just not a liar. I turned up all the charm I could muster, but I left after my interview and caught the 30 bus home.

I chilled with the bus driver. He was from North Carolina. I got the call for my Saturday interview and set it up.

I will apply at Einstein Bagels today. Tomorrow, I will apply somewhere else. Eventually, all this will fall together gloriously.

This, my friend, is called persistence.

Sausagefest 2009

So I worked my first job in San Diego last weekend.
Get this, I sold, of all things, SAUSAGES at the Chargers preseason game!

If you know anything about this land of wangs, are thinking the same thing I was when I heard which booth I would be working at.

"Sausage, here? In Man Diego?"

Really?
Yes really.
I hustled Italian Sausages, imported from Boston, from 2:30 in the afternoon 'til 11 at night.

"Hot Dogs, CHEESESTEAKS, chicken, beef tips, SAUSAGE!"

I bellowed from my station, directly in front of the serving windows and even into the pedestrian walkway to make a sale.

This way I could hustle some $10 sausage sandwiches before people even knew what hit 'em.

What can I say, it was fun.

One lady got pissed when she found out a sandwich was $10 and a 20 oz bottle of soda was $5.25. I was definitely happy I didn't have to pay those prices, but what do you expect at a football game??

Sourpuss looked up at me and scowled "$10 for a sandwich? Oh, that's outrageous."

I took one look back at her scowling sourpuss and couldn't help it, this woman was a shrew.

"Well 'maam, I wouldn't breathe too deep if I were you. You should see our prices for hot air."

My bike and my 2 step

So, about 3 weeks ago I landed in sunny San Diego with roughly $1100 in the bank and an air mattress awaiting in the home of an old friend.

It's go time.

That day, I got my pride and joy here in the land of eternal sunshine and air mattresses. Pepper is my fire-engine red, one-speed beach cruise with black tires and a black front basket.

And Pepper has a bitchin' bell.

Tonight, I rode on the trail that runs along the bay from Crown Point to Mission Beach. It attracts the masses, walkers and runners, bicyclists, skateboarders and roller bladers, all for good reason.

It is lovely.

The marine layer was starting to come in as I took off around 7 p.m.

I didn't know it would be smart to take my light off the bike, or even that it came off, till somebody already swiped it. So, I'm limited to day cruising. I'll buy another one on credit soon.

Hopefully I'll have a job by then, so maybe cash, but tonight, I had to get back from my first ride to Mission Beach before it got too dark. I hate driving cars at night and I don't expect a bike to be much more fun.

It was excellent, however, to cruise down the bike trail that the city of San Diego installed around the whale's vagina (You'll know what I'm talking about if you've seen Anchorman. Or you are German :-).

The trail is pretty safe, I believe, but the light thing will still be clutch in my adventures on a beach cruiser. And as long as we're on the safety kick, I also believe I am the only person in Pacific Beach who wears a bike helmet. I'll be honest, it's uncomfortable and I hate it (though it has gotten better since I started wearing my Phil's cap underneath). But, I must, so I do.

I think I would probably be pretty safe from other cars while I was on the trail, but there is still danger on this trail.

Remember all those walkers and bikers and roller bladers? Oh yeah, and dogs too. There's always something out there to be wary of. People can just be oblivious and sometimes that trail can get pretty packed. You can yell out, but who wants to yell at somebody?

That's when I use my left index finger to employ Pepper's greatest feature, Bella.

"ring ring" she goes.

"Don't just stand there, bust a move... ON YOUR LEFT" Pepper cruiser says as Bella chimes. Bella ringer has a silver body with a turquoise center and a flamingo perched in the middle.

I love her.

Tundra Jumping

'We’re almost there,' my guide told me, but I didn’t know where there was. The fireweed only told me there was 5 weeks left in the summer.



It all just looked like tundra as far as I was concerned. Spongy, absorbant, Summertime tundra that makes for a soft landing. I couldn’t wait to get to the cabin at 8 mile lake after what must have been miles of hiking.


Stampede Road only continued so far before it became Stampede Trail, just east of Denali National Park.


Stampede Trail seemed to continue forever until I saw the cabin. We took a 4-wheeler part of the way out, then hiked.


I brought my flask and had nearly finished it before I knew the Irish Whiskey was having it’s way with me. That was when I toppled over like a domino on my right side. I don't think I tripped on anything but my own inebriation.


We eventually entered the cabin, and as a native of the busy Mid-Atlantic region, this experience was new to me. After lighting the fire and warming up, we headed to upstairs to the loft. Once we took a look around, I was confused by the doorways on either side of the second floor. On the side of the cabin, the side facing 8 Mile Lake, there was a balcony, and sometimes Denali would come out on a clear days, rising over the lake with a distant, but distinct alpen glow.


On the other side of the cabin, facing the trail, the doorway had no balcony attached. I wondered if they were going to add another balcony but money or weather had thus far prevented the addition.


I asked my traveling companion what the deal was and he replied "Oh, that’s for tundra jumping.”

He was standing on the side of the loft facing 8 Mile Lake and took off his cumbersome backpack and before taking his mark.

"What the hell is that?" I asked.

As the words were coming out of my mouth, he took off and ran across the loft and through the open door, launching himself into a pike and landing, ass-first into the squishy melted permafrost.


"That," he said, with a hearty laugh and a swig from his flask, "is Tundra Jumping."

Take a number

So I picked up my unemployment check today. It's kind of a pain dealing with unemployment, but I guess it probably should be. It's not like any of us have a job we need to schedule around, right?

Today I was supposed to receive 2 checks because they denied my benefits when I didn't report any income. See, it's a long story, but because I filed for "reduced-hours" unemployment, I am able to work part-time and make as much as half of my weekly stipend. If I make more than that, my check is deducted dollar-for-dollar.

Therefore, each week I call a number and spend about 10 minutes touch-toning my previous week's earnings. It takes about 10 minutes and 2 days later, I usually receive a check, but they get backed up and things are spordic sometimes.

On Tuesday, I made my sixth (6th!) trip to the Department of Labor since I opened this claim. I am happy to say they have made some improvements to their customer service systerm, but I have definately spent DAYS in that office now.

Sometimes I see people I worked with at the Rudder while I am there. That has happened at least 3 times. No one I knew was there on my first visit , but by my second visit, I ran into Art, the old man who carves beef on the buffet.

My first year at the Rudder, I got to know Art because I worked there year-round and there isn't much to do in Dewey Beach during the winter besides get to know everybody else who is there. Art is barely 5 ft. and has white hair and when I started there, he was hard to understand because a lifetime in Sussex County poverty level did a number on his teeth, but he is still a really nice little old man but oh yeah, he's a little crazy too, definately crazy.

There was one summer when Art hooked up with little white-haired his tall black crackhead, we'll call her "Chickenhead." He used to drive her all around everywhere and she stayed at his house and they both worked the buffet. Come to think of it, I think I saw "Chickenhead" there too. Unemployment is crazy.

Well, this one Sunday that first winter, so there was the brunch buffet in the morning and a slow dinner shift to follow. Another young waitress and I were sitting in the smoke area, waiting to be cut. Back then, we used to have a smoke area inside. As soon as you went through the swinging kitchen door, you were there. Take 2 more steps and you are in the kitchen. The smoke area was right by the service bar, which was housed inside a larger"back of the house" complex including the kitchen.

Anyway, we were sitting there smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee and waiting to be cut and Art stepped out of the dish pit and grabbed a bulky steak knife and started sawing on his fingernail.

The other waitress and I were puzzled, but I had already seen so much crazy shit at that place, it was just par for the course, but my friend spoke up.

"Oh Art, what on Earth are you doin?" she asked with a little Sussex County twang,

"See here, I got myself this hangnail," he replied.

"Well why don't you just bite it off," she said, putting her hand up to mimic the action.

"I aint got no teeth. "

Only at the Rudder.

Plants? Really?

I'm still toiling with the turbo tax I'm going back through the deductions it is checking for.
I'm writing this so I will remember the next time I want to buy some nice potted plants I will save the receipt and deduct them because obviously they will be for my home office.

*Plants for home office
*Paint, repairs, maintenence, theft in home office
*Interest from student loans
*Interest from almost anything
*Mileage
*Cell phone bills
*Donations to charity
*Moving expenses

I'll keep my eye out.

Doing Business

I started tackling my taxes today. I only had 3 W2 forms and 1 form about my unemployment. I hadn't even opened some of the envelopes yet but I spent the whole day today figuring out where I made money and how I did it.

In 2007, I had seven, yes SEVEN (7) jobs! Two of those jobs were in Alaska. I also graduated college and there was a lot of stuff to report with that. I didn't get my return until August because I messed up writing on of the taxpayer IDs and I just barely got the taxes in on time to begin with, so it was a while before I could finally think about them again but the money took a big bite out of my credit card debt so that was cool.

Not surprisingly, this year was still my highest-earning year since the year before my car accident, but I still didn't make shit. I think I made slightly under $26000 on the books and everything else has been freelance work or bullshit you don't have to report.

The more I think about it, the more I am becoming increasingly agitated about my poverty. My baby sister has out-earned me pretty much every year since my accident, but she's still not raking it in either. (but I guess in comparison she sort of is...)
I also downloaded some business program so I can organize my freelancing thing. Basically I am an independent contractor now, but fortunately I didn't even make enough to report it last year. I'm glad I'm taking the time to organize myself now before I have piles of hell to sort through at tax time next year.
So anyway, back to the poverty level thing. This is bullshit. Absolute bullshit.

I can live modestly, that's for sure, but I am really sick of HAVING to do it. I went to college in good faith, believing this endeavor would provide me a comfortable living.
It got me health insurance and with a degree in journalism and a job at a newspaper, that was about it. I guess people also begin to know your name, some people learn your office number too, and your email address.
Ugh, the best part about freelancing is NOT having to publish my contact information with my stories.


So, back to this poor house situation. I'm busting out. I have the freedom to really hustle and now that it is nearly springtime, I'm getting ready to make some moves.

In my quest to do some serious traveling and hard work and money-making this year, I will need to remember how important discipline will be. I'd be really pissed if I got wasted and broke myself in Alaska and it de-railed my aspirations.
So, I might just observe some limits for a change.