Hi's & Lo's

The ups and downs of Missoula continue. I'm beginning to wonder if the dust will ever settle and Beau and I can be normal people, each with one, decent, full-time day job, working toward getting a house, not running around all the time, etc. I had that interview last week for the good position in a very high office in the university (I know, vague, but I have to be). I didn't worry about a conflict with my current job here, which I like very much, for two reasons. For one, I thought no matter what, if I was hired, the new job would work with me. After I declined an interview for another job here so I wouldn't have to quit the one I'm at now, a friend said, "Why did you do that? They're both in the university system, I'm sure they could work something out with you." Then I felt like a giant idiot, but it was too late. Plus, I was still feeling kind of bad about leaving that non-profit temp job so suddenly and wasn't keen on doing that again. So, when this high-up job came up, I thought things could be worked out since my present job is only til June 1st anyway.

Secondly, the new job is connected to the hiring of an important university official. Knowing how universities work, and so far my experience here has been very similar to my experience at UW-Madison, I knew that these hirings, especially the higher up you go in the hierarchy, can be long, drawn-out, and unpredictable. They can go through months of multiple interviews and negotiations, think they finally have their (wo)man, only to be turned down by the applicant in the end (often applicants are courted by more than one university at a time). So, I figured, sure, I'll go to the interview, and by the time they get this person hired, I'll probably be ending my job where I am now.

Wrong. In the interview, which consisted of a very nice administrator and a somewhat stern and stiff high-up university official, I was told the position might be open very very soon, or, might not. If it was open soon, I asked, could they work with me to continue my current position? Perhaps split the day between the two until June?

Nope, they weren't willing to do that. I was pretty bummed, but continued on with the interview nonetheless. Things were still up in the air after all. By the end of the interview, I felt I had done well, but hadn't felt that *click* you feel when an interview just goes so great. You know, when you feel like you connected with the interviewers, and when you walk away in a kind of happy daze, floating along, going, "Yes, I nailed that interview! I got that job!" So, I didn't give it much thought.

Well, the message on the voicemail last night congratulated me and told me I had the job, but that it started....wait for it....Monday!

Great.

My head's in a bit of a spin. For two months Beau and I were in big financial trouble, eating lots of oatmeal and other cheap carbs. Well, we still kinda are since we're catching up. We both ended up, very reluctantly, at our respective retail positions just to make sure we could make rent. Suddenly, in the past couple weeks, I'm one hot tamale. I know as problems go, it's a "good one" to have, but it still sucks.

But I've already decided. Though the job I'm at now doesn't have any benefits or the highest pay, I really like the people, they're good to me, and I want to stick it out 'til it ends. The dean and the department administrator have already shown an interest in helping me find better employment after June, even collecting my resume to pass out to some contacts and making a call. The new, "better" job is promising, but I'm not feeling a great deal of excitement for it. I hate to turn down a pretty good job, but it's what I want to do. Besides, *cough* *choke* I will always have Shop-n-Smile for a back-up.

Am I crazy?

Things That Annoy Me About Myself - 2

So, one of my bosses here at the university brought in her hyper little dog today - a miniature greyhound named "Speedy." I was thrilled since I could just play with the thing all day long. Pretty darn cute, and damn spindly! The poor thing has already suffered a myriad of injuries, and apparently has like a few pins in its hip right now.

As for annoying myself, the boss, "Betty," told me, "His name used to be Winston, then it was Anubis before it was Speedy.

Looking at the dog, I said, "Anubis? That's a dumb name! Good thing your name is Speedy!"

Then Betty proceeded to inform me that she had been the one to name him Anubis, it was an old boyfriend who had changed his name to Speedy.

Oh.

*gulp*

Random Photo of the Day - 5

Washington Monument. Winter 2006.

Random Photo of the Day - 4

Pumpkins. Fall 2005

Fart!

Beau says I really shouldn't write about this, but hell, everyone loves a fart story, right??

So the other night I'm working at Shop-n-Smile and I'm doing some task with "Jack" and "Katie." Jack is an unusual guy. In his late 20's, he can be fun and hysterically funny. He can also be loud, obnoxious, and totally inappropriate. I have been lucky to experience mostly his former self. Until now.

Katie is one of the many teenagers working there. I suspect she may be a "mean girl," but I have no proof. I guess it's the attitude. She's super model thin and pretty, is verrrrry laid back, and her mouth is in a constant state of chewing-gum motion. She just exudes that confidence of "cool" that certain teenagers have. She does her work, and that's it, no more, honey. I actually like her a lot, 'cause she's easy to get along with and helpful to me as a newbie. Plus, I don't have to worry about her being super picky about the angle of the pillows in their display or something.

So anyway, we're all working on some task together, and Jack starts telling me how some customer had asked for me specifically because of my vast knowledge of sheets (hahahahaha), and, me being surprised and amused, exclaimed, "Ha! Oh really?" with a burst of energy.

And with that "burst" of energy, I farted.

*POP* Just like that, with no effort or willpower by me, it just sprang out of my body like a horse coming out of the chute. And yes, it was AUDIBLE.

A lot can happen in the second that you publicly fart. A wave of feelings from shock, mortification, fear, dread, and yes, even amusement washed over me. Did they hear it?

You bet my ass they did! Well, HE did, Jack. Thank the gods that Katie did not. That's all I need is for a workplace full of teenagers to know me as "That Fart Girl."

And Jack, being the kind of guy he is, immediately took off with it. "Oh my god! Did you just do that? Did that just happen? Did you hear that?"

"What?" Katie drawled in a bored tone.

"Nothing!" I said. And then I just started laughing. The whole thing was so totally ridiculous that I really thought it was hysterical. Yes, I was embarrassed, but I was also amused. I couldn't believe it had happened, just like that, like the crochety, 65-year old man who used to do it in the office back in NYC. I'm 34 and have already lost control of my bodily functions. I knew I shouldn't have eaten that apple crumble before work.

"I can't believe you just did that!?" Jack continued to bellow. I was laughing, but also wanted to kick him in the nuts. "Shut up!" I said.

"Whaaaat?" Katie asked again.

"Nothing!" I repeated.

Since then, Jack has not let me forget it. An hour later when we were in a different part of the store, he brought it up again. "I can't believe you did that!" he said.

"It's not like I did it on purpose, and I would appreciate it not getting around, please!" I said.

"Oh no, I wouldn't do that!" he assured me.

Since then, I have worked with him on one other shift. Again, he brought it up. Three times. And now, since I told him I told Beau about "the incident," he's dying to meet Beau so they can get together and laugh about my public indecency. Okay, it's not that funny anymore!

I think I might have to kill Jack. Soon.

Random Photo of the Day - 3

Andromeda seeking to be rescued. Photo taken in the NY Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Things That Annoy Me About Other People

people who write everything in lowercase letters, most of all, their name! (i just saw an entire myspace page that was in lowercase letters and it just made me itch). if there is anything you should not be lazy about, it's the capitalization of your own damn name! it's the absolute definition of what a proper noun is!

amnesty goes to the letter "i" used in its pronoun form simply because i do that one myself, inconsistently.

love,
j. cullinane

Random Photo of the Day - 2

Flamingoes at the Bronx Zoo sometime in Summer 2005. Thanks again for the membership, Ragnar!

Random Photo of the Day - 1

I really love taking pictures (who doesn't?), and I was trolling through some of mine and thought how much I wanted to share them. So, I thought I'd post one picture at a time, at a maximum of one a day. I assume most will be of New Zealand since I didn't get a digital camera until a few month's before I left for there and I don't have a scanner anymore to scan in older ones. Some of these may be repeats from the past, but I'm sure we'll both live through it. Anyway, I hope you can enjoy some of these too.

Love, J.
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I thought I'd start off with one of my very favorite photos from one of my very favorite lookout spots in New Zealand, about one mile from where we lived. This is the ocean off of the north island of the country. And yes, on a good day, the ocean really is that blue.

Self-Compliment

Men, this post is on hair. Feel free to move on.
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I like compliments, I won't lie. Well, I like compliments coming from an individual. The kind you get when someone in a group loudly gives you a compliment so everyone kind of turns and examines you makes me squirm. Still, a compliment's a compliment. And today, I needed one. It's only a little past noon and it's been a crappy day. I'll spare you most of the details, but to refer to a recent blog, that headlight I used to strong-arm to blink on every night has now steadfastly refused to shimmer, so I'm worried about meeting my friendly neighborhood cop on the way home from Shop-n-Smile tonight. We'll leave the bitching of today to just one.

It was just lunch and I had parked on the road and ran into the big University Center to get my lunch and buy a one-day parking permit. I was playing that game you play with the parking checkers here, since they're notorious here for handing out parking tickets like pediatricians hand out lollipops. I needed to buy the permit, grab my lunch, and get back to my car before it got a shiny new parking violation. Universities are always such a colossal pain when it comes to parking.

So, I was in the salad bar line, trying to turbo-make my salad, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see the woman next to me giving me the body language for, "Hurry up, move over. I'm making my salad too!" So, I moved over politely and continued building my masterpiece.

Then, I got the signal again. So again, I stepped over and continued. When I felt it a third time, I suddenly heard her exclaim, "I'm so sorry, I'm just starting at you! Your hair is so beautiful!"

I looked up, both startled and flattered, into the face of a woman about my height, also with blue eyes, and with hair about the same length as mine. Her hair was a bit blonder (mine's kinda strawberry-light-brownish) and a bit curlier. I thought it was beautiful. It wasn't exactly a doppelganger moment, but it was close enough.

"Oh, well it looks just like yours!" I said smiling.

"Oh no," she said, "Yours isn't as curly. It's more wavy and nice."

"I wish mine was more curly!" I said, and then began to feel self-conscious about this salad bar line mutual admiration society. "Thank you!" I added with some enthusiasm.

And then we continued on with our lives. But I felt a little zing of happiness with the compliment.

It's funny, I always hated my natural hair. Being wavy, it unfortunately isn't Rapunzel-like cascading waves either, it has always been dry, frizzy, and basically bumpy. You know, the one side flips up the other side flips under kind. I blew it straight several times a week for years and years until when living in NYC an instructive and insistent curly-hair salon stylist and the overwhelming number of lovely, curly-haired heroines at the Jewish organization I worked for inspired me to go natural. Plus, with all the curly hair products that have exploded onto the market, I can help to "enhance" my hair's waviness into something more controlled and appealing. I have now fully-accepted and have even come to love my hair just as it is (well, enhanced as it is). It feels good.

Well, let's just hope I'm still as self-loving after I chop off about a foot of it in the near future. I'm not self-loving how long it takes to dry hair that goes to the middle of my back.

On another note, oOoOOoh, I just ate three pickles! The day's getting even better. Now, where did I put those Sugar Babies?

Things That Annoy Me About Myself

This could be a long list, but for now, I'll just list one...

I hate how I do that nervous, polite laugh thing. Like, with someone I don't know very well or with a supervisor or something. I use it to fill up space, as a reply, whatever. It sounds stupid. I need to stop.

Psycho Kitty - Qu'est-ce que c'est? Part II

HAPPY SPRING!!!

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Sabina's zaniness intensifies. It's Beau's fault; he's making her evil, and she's loving it.

Beau and I have very different views on pets. Being a country boy, and spending a large chunk of his life breeding and working with horses, to him, they're utilitarian. Horses in the pasture, cats in the barn, dogs running around scaring potential bad guys or other varmints. Pets are animals.

I love having pets! As a city girl, they were companions who we kept inside (for the most part) and loved and stroked and were happy to share our bed with. They were gentle creatures, family members of a sort.

I've always treated Sabina with kidgloves. I stroke her and scratch her and carry her around like a doll. She sleeps up against me at night, and gazes out the window by day. She's my baby kitty. So, when Beau started messing with Bina, pushing her around, stepping on her (in jest), picking her up and jostling her around like a washing machine, just basically being pretty rough with her, I was alarmed.

"Hey careful! You'll make her mean!" I'm always afraid of cats going mean. I remember two cats from my childhood that "went bad." Not their fault. They both had been abused. I'll never forget the day when I was 13, arriving at a neighbor's house to babysit their son, to walk into the living room and find him swinging his new kitten around the room, helicopter-style, by a long string tied round its neck. No blaming that cat for hating people.

So, when Beau tosses Bina around, smooshes her with his foot, and being who she is, reacts rather dramatically with protest mews of great volume, and claws and teeth bared, I get nervous. It takes a bit of pushing to get her to respond, because I have taught her that to bite Mommy is a VERY BAD IDEA, so it was some time until she would go into immediate attack mode at the obnoxious probing of Beau. No need for probing anymore. I always know when he's messing with her, because a great whiny howl will just rise up out of nowhere, a sound I'm just not used to coming out of this cat. I used to get mad at Beau, thinking he was always instigating things. He protested. "She's a cat! She loves it! She starts it, really!"

"Oh sure, she starts it. What are you, five?"

"She does! You have to watch!"

Sure enough, Beau and Bina have developed a sort of sick game between them. He sits down at the computer to email or play Civ IV, and Bina will nonchalantly walk up to him and slowly lay down across his foot. There she waits. As soon as he moves a single toe --- ATTACK! What makes it so funny, is that while she is attacking him, she cries out in her "mews of protest" voice, as if she's the one being assaulted. I didn't even believe Beau, but have now seen her do this on a daily basis. Sabina the Psycho Kitty now lives to bite Beau's feet. And there is no holding back, teeth and claws dig in until I start hearing Beau howl himself. And the more he tries to pull his foot away, the more aggressively she attacks. He must remain perfectly motionless to prevent a confrontation. Of course, she doesn't dare do this to me; I would drop kick her across the room, baby kitty or no. With me she is still a gentle, soft cuddler. With Beau, she is all tiger. Well, that is, unless they're taking a nap on the air bed together.

"Now she's finally acting like a cat!" Beau proclaims in smug satisfaction.

A crazy, schizophrenic cat.

On the bright side, her lick-herself-til-she's-bald disorder has lessened, though not disappeared. Maybe getting out her frustrations on Beau's feet is a sort of therapy.

Lord help this family.

Nobody Move, Nobody Get Hurt

Since I began driving at 16, (18 years ago). I've been pulled over by the cops three times in my entire life. All three times were on major interstate highways amidst a long, laborious road trip of some kind. All three times I was speeding. The one that killed me was on my return from NYC - Madison, non-stop 14 hour trip, where I was JUST reaching the exit to my home at about 3am, exhausted and relieved. Then, flashing blue and red lights! Fucker.

Beau and I have lived in Missoula for 2 1/2 months and we've each been pulled over once already. Cops are everywhere here and though I've never found myself having strong feelings one way or the other about cops or tickets, I find myself growing more and more upset. Big surprise, it's Missoula!

I first started getting irritated, naturally, after Beau got his $81 speeding ticket for doing 35 in a 25 mph zone. It's hard to argue with a ticket when you're speeding. You just are. Doesn't stop me from being annoyed by all the circumstances surrounding it though. For one, we live in a nice apartment, but basically in a pretty depressed area of small, unkempt houses where the front yards often feature a doberman, rottweiler, or something else large-jawed and fear-inspiring. A somewhat major (busy) road road runs along the outside of these neighborhoods near where we live. The other side of the road consists of industrial lots, or just dirt lots, or the cemetery. On this road to our home, right before you pass these neighborhoods on the right, you have to cross a short, yet surprisingly steep bridge, since underneath it runs about ten lines of railroad track. I have to kick our little Honda into high gear to make it up the little bridge, and then of course, to keep me from getting a ticket by going over 25 mph, lean heavily on the break the whole way down. That's where Beau got nabbed, coming off that bridge.

Nearly every single day when I'm driving to and from work, I see a cop and some unfortunate victim pulled over on the side of the road, right in this area -- I did again just this morning on the way to work. You can imagine how that inspires a stately crawl every time I enter the neighborhood. I guess it just seems so unfair that again and again I see people getting that $81 ticket, and I KNOW these are, for the most part, blue-collar families in small homes with not much money. Whenever I've been in the wealthier sections of Missoula (like where I park my car every morning for work), I have seen ZERO cops. Not one. $81 is a LOT of money to pay when you don't have it. Trust me on that one.

And though I've been driving through this area for about 11 weeks now, and have seen daily police pull-overs in this tiny area, I have never seen anyone racing by me in their car. I've never seen an accident, I've never seen anything even remotely reckless or strange warranting such blanket attention. I don't get it. It's not even that busy of an area, traffic-wise. People here tell you that the police are so rabid because of Montana's no sales tax law. I hear this as an excuse for anything that is ridiculous or expensive. We haven't gotten a new car title yet, but we're afraid to, since we hear "It'll cost SO much money, hundreds of dollars, since there's no sales tax and this is how they get their money." I've already mentioned how angry people are about their sky-high property taxes too. Yet, every time it's put to a vote, people want to keep their no-sales-tax way of life. Okay.

The only thing I've seen that should stimulate police action, are the idiots who drive their stupid trucks up the side of a very steep hill lying underneath I-90. These idiots deserve a little Cop Smackdown, or to just die from their dumbassness. It's either teenagers or men in their 30's or 40's who drive their cars straight up the hill, like they're just taunting the hill and the laws of gravity to fling them off. I watched from my window in disbelief as a man went slowly up up up the hill in his Bronco, and then began to slowly slide back down. The teenagers in the station wagon didn't even make it up that high before their car stalled. I'm waiting for the day when something truly tragic happens. Of course, though this is about a half mile from the speed trap area I mentioned -- the hill is literally in view -- I have never seen a single cop nab one of these brain surgeons. I guess you can't get a ticket for being crazy.

It also bothers me since it just rips up the ground. This must be some kind of common pasttime here, because there are several paths just chewed out of the hillside shooting up and down and circling around. Those are not real roads by any means. They're just guys driving around in the dirt. I took a picture of this guy last weekend. I was pretty bummed that the photo doesn't allow you to really see the dramatic angle this hill (and car) are on. Maybe it's because I took the picture from where I live on the third floor. But just use your fantastic powers of imagination to picture this hill as very very steep.

As for myself, changing gears now to a different story, I had MUCH better luck, and an experience that somewhat redeemed my opinion of Missoula cops. After coming off an eight hour shift at Shop-n-Smile, exhausted and just DYING to get home, I get pulled over. JUST GREAT! It couldn't be a worse time to get a ticket since, as usual, we're broke, and our Shop-n-Smile and my university paychecks haven't started rolling in yet. I thought, maybe he'll see my Shop-n-Smile dork nametag and take pity on a poor, working slop like me. He had this giant, bright headlight on the side of his car that he kept shining into my rearview mirror rendering me paralyzed in fear and confusion. He did this about three times, rolling the light around a bit. I felt like there was something I was supposed to do, but had no idea what. Finally, a young male cop came to my window and said, "Could you please move your car farther off the road so I don't get hit."

- 'Oh, oh yeah, sure" *sheepish*

Then he walked over to the car, leaned down and said, "How long has your headlight been out?"

Oh crap.

Now, that stupid headlight has been going out for about a month now, but like a bad sitcom, what happens is this: Beau turns the car and headlights on, only the left headlight will shine, he then gets out and smacks the right headlight forcefully. The right headlight then obediently snaps on in cheery brightness. He gets back in the car and we drive off. I had punched it on myself two weeks earlier and it had inexplicably just kept coming on every time I turned the ignition thereafter without my Mafia-like ass-kicking persuasion. So, since it had been working for awhile, I had forgotten to threaten it that particular night.

I looked at the cop and said, "Um, can I get out and show you?" He said yes, I got out and timidly stepped around to the front of the car. I raised my arm and brought down the side of my fist onto the light.

*bam*

Nothing.

"Oh fuck oh fuck," I thought.

I hit it again, a little harder.

Nothing.

I hit it about five more times. "I can't BELIEVE this!" I thought in rising panic. Like he was going to believe me now! I gave it one more smack.

*blink* *shine*

I muttered under my breath that the light was DEAD, you hear me, DEAD, when we got home. Okay, that just went on in my mind. In reality I looked up at the police officer with hope and triumph in my eyes.

"What, is it just loose?" he asked.

- "Um, I don't know," I said. "It's stayed on for the past couple weeks so I thought it was fine now."

"Okay, let's see your license and proof of insurance then."

So, I got back in the car, frantically digging through the glove box (the overhead light in the car wouldn't turn on EITHER!), and gave them both to him. Again, snag. My license is still out-of-state and the insurance, though totally valid, is under my mother's name until April. And of course, like previously mentioned, the license plate and registration itself is still Wisconsin.

"You new to the area?" he asked.
- "Yes," I replied cheerfully, "We just moved here two months ago."
"You work at Shop-n-Smile, do you?"
- "Yes, I just started there."
"M'am, once you are gainfully employed, by law, you are required to get a driver's license from Montana."
- "Well, you see, I have a story about that..."

Which is true, I do, and it's a totally honest story. I can't reveal right now what it is. It's nothing that interesting. Still, even though everything I had said to the cop was true, even to my own ears it just started to sound like story after story, excuse after excuse. I braced for impact.

"Well, you make sure to get that new license and fix that light. You have a good night."

- "Oh. Oh? Oh! Thank you! Yes, okay!" I spluttered. I was stunned. I had never been let off of a ticket before. The three previous cops had all been big fat meanies to me. I was so relieved that I teared up. He went back to his car and I sat in mine. What made this comical, is that I didn't want to drive off before him. To add to all the other problems, the muffler on the car had just recently started to go, and though it had not yet reached epic noise pollution levels, I'm sure he would have noticed it, and the only "story" I had for this one is that we didn't have enough money yet to get it fixed. So, I sat there for a moment, nervous, but it was obvious he was waiting for me. So, very.....slowly....I began to drive off. I heard the engine growl, not too loudly, but still louder than normal. I bit my lip and continued on, my eyes darting to the rearview mirror every few seconds. No more flashing lights.

I drove home like a senior citizen. In one piece. No ticket.

Glory hallelujah!

Now I Really Do Live in Bizarro World

Okay, it's 7am, I'm exhausted, I turn on the TV, and I see Ann Curry interviewing the President of Sudan.

WHAT THE FUCK?

Ann Curry? The Strawberry Shortcake of the world of journalism is interviewing the leader of Sudan's large-scale genocide?

I can't take this. My mind is reeling. Why is it getting dark in here?

*thump*

Shop-n-Smile!

The J-O-B situation is slowly getting better.

I started working at the university. It feels real real good to be on a university campus again, and the University of Montana is very pretty. At least, I see its potential to be pretty. We are just crawling into Spring and Montana does not leave winter too willingly. It will still snow here, totally unexpectedly (to me), in the middle of the day. And not necessarily snowflakes that I am familiar with, but these tiny little pellets of snow, similar to hale,...but not.

Anyway, it's no wonder it feels so good to be here since I spent such a large chunk of my life on two university campuses. Of course, this time it's different. I'm not an undergrad or the youngest student in my graduate program anymore. I'm just a 30-something temp who isn't wearing jeans and sneakers or carrying an enormous bookbag anymore. At least it's a temp with the university and not another agency!

Oh, and I got ANOTHER call from another university department, but I told them I'd already made a commitment to the department I'm in now and I couldn't do it. It was kind of a bummer since it was a pretty nice job, but despite what happened at my PREVIOUS temp job, I don't really like doing things like that. And there will be other jobs...I hope.

These temporary positions feel like you're always at the casino rolling the dice. It's all about timing and impressions. You're trying to do a good job so you can make it to the NEXT job with a favorable recommendation, and of course, the NEXT job has to start right around the time your present job ends. It's maddening. You feel like you're gambling with your own life, which you kind of are, since it's your rent, fuel, and cat food that are on the line. You don't want to piss off your present employer with your new job search, taking off for interviews and such, but you don't want to wait TOO long since nowadays so many positions require long application processes and multiple interviews.

The job I'm at now only lasts until June (with the "possibility" of an extension). I know how it goes...funding and the "we'll see if we really like you" factor kicks in. And this university, though a state school, seems to really struggle with funding in a way that surprises me. Back during my time at the Univeristy of Wisconsin-Madison, the university itself always bitched about not having enough money and needing to raise tuition, but if you spent some time at the university and used its wide array of splendid services, you'd see that they were doing very well. I guess each state is different in how they treat their universities.

What I think I haven't mentioned either, is that about two weeks ago I started a job at a retail store. Not Target again, but let's just say it's a VERY similar place. How 'bout we call it "Shop-n-Smile." I work there nights and weekends. It's a LOT less intense than Target, but it's also a lot less structured and polished, which can be annoying. And they make me tuck in my shirt, which I HATE. *cough* Anyways...

It was a weird experience, because I got to the interview, and I was asked to sit in a row of chairs facing three supervisors. There was one from apparel, one from hardlines, and one from the cashier section. There were already two other applicants sitting in the row with me -- an attractive high school student (female), and a somewhat shady-looking male with a bald head and tightly folded arms. The three interviewers would ask questions, and we'd have to answer them in turn. It was an odd experience, especially since the three of us couldn't be more different. I think each of my answers was about 3x longer than theirs. I try to be talkative in an interview without turning into Gabby McChat.

I thought the teenager did a good job, though she was very obviously nervous. The shady male kept making comments about his disgruntlement at his past jobs. Idiot! Don't you know you to ix-nay on the riticism-cay during an interview?? When they asked me where I would prefer to work, I quickly said "hardlines" which basically consists of anything that is NOT clothes/shoes or the registers. I learned from Target how un-fun it can be to work apparel, especially working the infants/kids department *vomit* And though cashiering can be fun, a shift where you just stand in place hour after hour can be excrutiating.

After a few more questions, they asked the three of us to go and sit in the breakroom while they conferred. Of course, they gave us the 5-minute "even if we don't hire you now, we'll keep your application and maybe we'll hire you later (yeah right)" speech, so I knew at least one of us didn't make the cut. After an astonishing 20 minutes cooling our heels (what could necessitate ALL that conferring?), they called us back in, each directed to a different supervisor. I sat down with the hardlines guy who said, "What area do you like to work in best?" So I told him honestly, housewares and domestics (furniture, bedding, kitchen stuff, basically everything for the house). I think it's one of the more interesting and least frustrating areas to work. I would work anywhere, but I was praying he wouldn't tell me "Toys," since that section is just about as nightmarish as you can imagine.

He smiled and said, "That's exactly where I have an opening." Score! So, all he had to do was wait for my background check to come back (do felonies count against you?) and then I could start.

So, a week later I was sent to training. Though the trainer was a very nice woman, it was one of the absolute worst training sessions I have ever been on. I felt myself appreciating Target more and more, despite all the things that had annoyed me about them. The majority of the training consisted in us watching fantastically boring videos. The trainer would often push play, and then go and disappear for awhile. Often the tape would end and the four of us would all stare at our shoes for several minutes in polite embarrassment. There were three other women in training with me. A pharmacy student who would intern in the pharamacy, a woman who would be a cashier, and the teenager from my interview who would work in apparel. Apparently Joe Dis Gruntled didn't make the cut.

So, here I am a couple weeks later. The job is easy, and Shop-n-Smile, though a nice store, gets very little business, though of course I'm comparing it to Target during Christmas, which was INSANE. But all the biggies are here in town (Wal-Mart, ShopKo, Target, K-Mart, Stein Mart), so there's lots of competition. I spend hours and hours each shift very.....slowly.....walking through the aisles straightening candles and picture frames, re-rolling the rugs people lay out on the floor to try, and folding aisles of puffy bath towels. It's hardly brain surgery, and sometimes I think I'll go mad from the boredom, but it's a job, it's easy, it's inside, and we could damn sure use the money.

Of course the only drawback is working all day at my temp job (8-5ish) and then racing over to Shop-n-Smile to work from 5ish-10pm. Since I'm one of these freaks who needs like 9 hours of sleep a night to feel even remotely functional in the morning, I've been waking up as a cast member from Night of the Living Dead. I know I can't keep this up forever, but who knows what will happen with the day temp job? I need this night gig to keep some checks coming in for awhile.

Ohhhh Missoula, one day my ship will come in, and I will feast and feast upon that fat bounty!

Until then, I'm knackered.

Funny Sign I Saw in the Coffeeshop Today

"Unattended children will be given an espresso and a free puppy."

Betrayed by the Missoula Employment Staffing Agency!

(In other words, Cruel Cruel Missoula, Part III)

Missoula is really starting to suck in a lot of ways.

As some of you know, I did something out of character for me -- I abruptly quit my temp job at a non-profit to take a new job at the university here. Though I very much want to work at the university, I really did want the job at the non-profit to work out, but the manager there strung me along and screwed me over on more than one occasion, which led me to change my mind about "sticking it out."

Some of you said I should write both the manager and the temp agency and tell them what was going on. I don't really believe in the "Fuck you, you suck, I quit!" exit, so thought the best thing was to write a polite, diplomatic, but honest letter to Shannon at the temp agency. So, that's what I did. I wrote an email where I thanked her for finding me employment in Missoula, said that although the non-profit was an interesting place and had a couple of great people working there, that there were some serious management issues she should be aware of. I specifically told her not to share my letter with the non-profit, since I wanted to try to leave on a peaceful note and not cause a big disturbance. I also told her that for another reason. When I had gone in to meet her on a previous occasion, I told her how I had applied to the university, but didn't want her to mention that. I found out shortly thereafter she had immediately emailed the manager, Kyle and told him exactly that. Nevertheless, I wrote the letter, then awaited her response.

Her response consisted of two sentences. Good luck at the university, and oh yeah, because you quit without notice, you can never work for us again.

Um, okay.

I wrote Steph, a co-worker at the non-profit whom I liked very much and told her basically what I had done and what Shannon had said. Steph wrote me back several hours later to tell me that Shannon had written the non-profit, told them, "I can't believe J. just quit like that!" and then proceeded to forward them the contents of my "confidential" email to her. So much for my specific request not to do that. So much for being a professional employment agency.

I'm pretty disgusted. Although I knew it would be a bit uncomfortable until the dust settled, I had wanted this to all end on a civil note. I hadn't left the organization hanging in any way, since a) when I did leave, I made sure I had no tasks/projects left undone, and b) I was fully aware of how Kyle had gone behind my back to interview another person for my position.

But I guess, in the end, I did leave abruptly, which I didn't want to do, but couldn't help. It's just too bad that on my way out the door, I had to be stabbed in the back.

Bye Bye Kyle!

So, today was my last day at the crazy organization I've been working for on and off for the past six weeks.

Of course, the boss doesn't know it yet.

In the end I completely wussed out. Lovely Steph, who I feel has been my advocate through all of this, basically told me to just go ahead and let the temp agency take care of it. I originally wanted to tell the supervisor, Kyle, but after hearing his double-talk again today, I thought, Fuck it, Fuck him, and get me the Fuck out of here!

So, come Monday, Kyle will have one less staff member, and I'm sure he'll break down in tears, because I've watched in disbelief as he has played the victim in the past couple weeks. As if the whole organization is crashing down around him and everyone's out to get him. Who knows, with his management skills, they probably are. Just last week he was telling the editor she had to start coming in at 8am (she normally comes in between 10 and 10:30 since her main job is to edit -- something that does not require a 9-5 presence). She resisted, and then I heard him whine in a loud and pathetic voice that startled me, "But I need helllllp!" Do you know what he needed "help" with? Answering the phones. I swear to god, each day when I was there and answering all phone calls from 9-5, I probably picked up the phone a total of a dozen times a day. Tops.

So now I need to move forward. I had the two interviews at the University. A week has gone by, and the "good" one that I was not-so-qualified for (despite the fact that they called ME in after seeing my resume in a temp pool) has already rejected me. What I have left is the guaranteed, low-level, short-term clerical job with what seems to be some very nice people. Then, yesterday I got ANOTHER call. Seems the university needs someone real soon for a very high administrative job for one of the highest-level officials in the school. (Yes, I am trying to be somewhat vague). It's a fantastic opportunity, one that pays much more than low-level clerical one, and it will probably last longer too.

But of course, there's a problem. The clerical job had to wait a week to interview me, then they had to wait another week while I waited for the "good" job to decide whether they wanted me or not. Now I know I'm free, NEED a job, and I don't want to make the clerical job wait any longer (I told them this coming Monday by the latest). But but but...what IF I could get that really high-level administrative job? What if...?

I know...bird in the hand...two in the bush. Fuck fuck fuckaroo!

This is my plan (Beau always laughs when I say that, which is quite often). I'm going to leave a voicemail message with the clerical job, tell them I haven't forgotten them, and will call them by the end of the day on Monday (like I kinda said anyway). That way, it will give me all day Monday to wait patiently for the high-level administrative job to come calling. I was told they were going to move fast, but they couldn't guarantee HOW fast.

*sigh*

Anyway, if I was going to have a problem, this is a good one to have.

Oooh, M*A*S*H is on! Time to go! You know me, party party party!

Oh, and I just put this picture in for the helluva it, cause I think it was so cool. Although it was taken in a city in New Zealand, the photo is just SO Montana that it just fits in so well here. Gore, New Zealand! The World Capital of Brown Trout Fishing! Woo!

Bye Bye Barba!

Continuing the ride on my Pop Train, I'm going to give a prayer of thanks to whichever deity FINALLY blessed the departure of Antonella Barba. Yes, I watch American Idol. I love it. I love to make fun of some (Barba) and cheer enthusiastically for others (Melinda, You. Are. Awesome).

And I started to write one of my typically long blogs about my raging annoyance over Ms. Barba, but you know what, it's just not worth it, so I just deleted it all. But I am going to include some of her "racy" photos, 'cause that's all the public really cares about, right?

My Top 10, Erm, 20 Re-Watchable Movies

I LOVE movies. I love watching them, critiquing them, and I'm completely unashamed that I am enamored with pop culture. I know it's not cool to be a pop culture fan, to watch a lot of TV or movies, or read People magazine, but I could give a rat's ass.

That said, I thought it'd be fun to make a list of my Top 10, which eventually stretched out into 20 Favorite Movies -- not for their quality but for their pure enjoyment. You know the movie, every time it's on TV you pause and watch at least some of it (and I HATE watching movies that are broadcast on TV). It's that movie you can quote at least ten lines from. It's that movie that still makes you giggle or weep, despite the fact that it's the 37th time you've seen it. A lot of my top 10 are pretty easy. There will be no Schindler's List on my list. It's a fantastic film, but not something I want to see over and over. Sorry if I don't have anything too artsy on here, I'm a big foreign language film fan, but I'll save those for my regular top 10 list.

And I'd love you to throw in your own faves in the comments section if you'd be so inclined. I'm interested to see what you think, and what I've overlooked, 'cause this is coming off the top of my head right now and I know there's a few dozen I'll have forgotten. Let's get to it...

1. The Fugitive
Cosmo: When I die, I wanna come back just like you.
Samuel Gerard: Oh, you mean happy and handsome?
This is my first of three Harrison Ford appearances. He will always be one of my favorite actors. But this movie isn't just about him -- Tommy Lee Jones really is the one to make this movie such a delight, and I was sorry that his spin-off movie was such crap. All the supporting characters are perfect (my GOD I love those stereotypical Chicago cops!), and I love following along with Dr. Richard Quimble as he slowly unravels the mystery behind his wife's death. You feel like you're right along there with him the whole time. I often think about what I would do if I was in such a situation. Too bad I've already had my hair dyed every kind of shade and style; it won't be so easy to disguise myself now.
(Treat Scene: Dr. Richard Kimble and Samuel Gerard's first face-off in the giant water pipe).


2. The Princess Bride
Inigo: Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.

My first slam dunk of the list. Anyone who is a Generation X'er like me, knows this movie, loves this movie, and quotes this movie, almost ad nauseum. So, I don't need to say much more about it, except, Inconceivable!
(Treat scene: The sword fight between Wesley and Inigo Montoya).


3. Så Som i Himmelen (As it is in Heaven)
Inger: Now I'm going to say something I've wanted to say for a long time. Something that's plagued me for 20 years. There is no sin. ... The church invented sin.
I snuck a foreign film in here! There are about a half dozen French films I love, but I don't think any of them are as delightful, touching, and re-watchable as this one. This Swedish film that I discovered about six months ago completely floored me. It was the first time, in a very long time, where I walked out of the movie theater in awe, thrilled, touched, and completely satisfied. For those not familiar, it's the story of a famous conductor/composer, who after becoming very ill, decides to completely quit "show business," and retire to the tiny Swedish town he grew up in, despite the fact that as a child, he was repeatedly victimized by a trio of hometown bullies. As the residents realize they've got this celebrity in town, not realizing he was a childhood resident (he has since changed his name), they push him to help conduct the church's choir, despite his objections. As we see with any movie, you cannot have such a "big" force as him enter a small town and not cause quite a disruption, whether positive or negative, affecting the lives of all individuals he touches, and vice versa. And with many of my faves in this blog, this movie has a host of quirky, endearing characters, each with their own unique story.
(Treat Scene: Gabriella's song)

4. The Secret of NIMH
Nicodemus: We can no longer live as rats. We know too much.
Another movie from my childhood. Like other movies in this list, I go for the movie that is slightly different from its genre-mates. This movie may not have the dazzle and pixie dust of Disney, but instead carries a great deal more depth, hope, and tenderness, and features a continual thread of dark, political intrigue uncharacteristic for a child's cartoon, which nonetheless, really spices up the film. And let's not forget its political message against governmental animal testing! Besides, where else can you find yourself cheering for a whole bunch of rats?
(Treat scene: When rescue efforts begin to fail and Mrs. Brisby's home begins to sink into the mud).

5. X-Men, X-Men II
Magneto: You homo sapiens and your guns.

Yes, I'm a Hugh Jackman junkie, but it's more than that. I just really like these films (the third one, less so). I love the characters, I love the plot, I love the action and effects. I was so into these movies that I had a friend (a comic book nut) sit down and tell me the entire X-Men storyline from beginning to end. Poor poor Phoenix.

(Treat Scene: Opening scene in X-Men with Wolverine fighting in the ring, or the opening scene in X-Men II with the assassination attempt on the President).

6. Pride & Prejudice (the BBC mini-series)
Elizabeth Bennet: Perhaps I didn't always love him as well as I do now, but in such cases as these a good memory is unpardonable.

You'd think something that was over six hours long wouldn't be watchable again and again. Well, not for me. This is one of those movies where in the beginning you're not sure if the casting was done very well, and by the end you think the casting was perfect. As with any Jane Austen, the dialogue is crisp and intelligent, the storyline dramatic and romantic, and the women a force to be reckoned with. And no man was ever more stoic and more dreamy than Colin Firth's Darcy.

(Treat Scene: Darcy's disastrous proposal to Elizabeth).


7. Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory
Willy Wonka: So shines a good deed in a weary world.

GOD, I love this movie. And despite a couple of too-creepy moments from the genius that is Gene Wilder, the movie is flawless. I saw the Johnny Depp one and thought it was okay, but it lacks the real beauty of the original, and besides, my god, why do without those fantastic songs???

(Treat Scene: Veruca Salt singing, "Don't Care How, I Want it Now").

8. Dangerous Beauty - A Destiny of Her Own

Beatrice Venier: Do you know what my daughter's nurse told her today? "In a girl's voice lies temptation - a known fact. Eloquence in a woman means promiscuity. Promiscuity of the mind leads to promiscuity of the body." She doesn't believe it yet, but she will. She'll grow up just like her mother. Marry, raise children and honor her family. Spend her youth in needlepoint and rue the day she was born a girl. And when she dies, she'll wonder why she obeyed all the rules of God and Country for no biblical hell could ever be worse than a state of perpetual inconsequence.

This is simply one of my favorite movies, which was shamefully marketed in the U.S. as a soft porn flick featuring Mel Gibson's beautiful wife from Braveheart (Catherine McCormack). In reality, it's a period piece about a woman with a noble family name, but no noble family money, who becomes the most famous courtesan of Venice. This movie was actually based on someone's dissertation, if you can believe that! There's an incentive to get that damn PhD done! Oh, and Jacqueline Bisset's role as Mommy-who-teaches-her-daughter-how-to-screw-men is not to be missed. Not to mention, it's got to be like the first movie where Rufus Sewell is NOT the villain. The movie completely sucks in the romantic in me, and I always go for the strong, female character who uses her head (and well, sometimes her body), to rise in life. I still cry during the trial scene.

(Treat Scene: Veronica Franco's speech during her trial by the Inquisition).

9. Sense & Sensibility
Elinor: Did he tell you he loved you?
Marianne: Yes...no. Never absolutely. It was everyday implied but never declared.
Another Jane Austen movie, script written by Emma Thompson herself (think she won the Oscar) and co-starring a lovely, wide-eyed, wild-n-free Kate Winslet. Also including Hugh Grant, who somehow manages to make his stiff, stuffy, concrete-necked character truly lovable. Not to mention the smoldering sexiness of the utter cad, Willoughby (whom Emma herself shacked up with during the movie, supposedly leaving Kenneth Branaugh, and has been with ever since). And let's not forget Alan Rickman whom I adore, who is tear-jerkingly appealing as the dashing, yet tortured Colonel Brandon. I guess I just keep identifying with the poor girl, with half a brain on her head, trying to make something of her life. What I love about Jane Austen, is that her books always feature strong females with a biting wit and fighting spirit, who are somewhat trapped by tight societal controls. Yet, they always seem to come out on the other side, hot man right along there with them.

(Treat Scene: Marianne's confrontation of Elinor in regard to the latter's seemingly lack of passion or feeling).


10. Meet Me in St. Louis

[When the family finds out that they are moving to New York City permanently]

Tootie: It'll take me at least a week to dig up all my dolls in the cemetery!

Judy Garland at her most beautiful singing my favorite Christmas song, "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas" as well as the bouncy onomatopoeia delight, "The Trolley Song." Plus, you don't want to miss the so-cute-you-wanna-puke Margaret O'Brien as the first "Tootie." The movie features a family in turn of the century St. Louis, young ladies looking for love, the excitement of the upcoming World Fair, and the promise and hope that the New Year can bring.

(Treat Scene: Esther singing "The Trolley Song" on the...trolley).

11. Raiders of the Lost Ark

Marion: You're not the man I knew ten years ago.

Indiana: It's not the years, honey, it's the mileage.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, we all love this movie, so it's a slam dunk. I could watch that opening scene over and over (Take note! The guide who betrays him in the cave is Alfred Molina!). And who doesn't love some Nazi ass-kicking? I spent a lot of my pre-teen years intensely in love with Harrison Ford, even riding my bike in a complete downpour for several miles to buy some Indiana Jones & the Temple of Doom playing cards. That lopsided grin still gets me today. No wonder I had a professor fetish for so long.

(Treat Scene: The opening scene with that big fucking ball!)


12. Ever After
Baroness Rodmilla: Darling, nothing is final 'til your dead, and even then, I'm sure God negotiates.

Yes, I'm a foolish romantic, but this movie is just plain fun and tragically underrated! It's beautifully filmed in the French countryside and the performances are so great (despite Drew Barrymore's wavering accent). Anjelica Huston is a real treat. She's fantastic in her evilness, her lines are endlessly quotable, and she's just a damn fine actress. I wish she was in more movies. Plus, the movie tries to be smart, and isn't going for the Hilary Duff crowd. It's a beautiful reflection on love, responsibility, what's truly important to us, and our place in the world. Oh yeah, and Dougray Scott (a Scot!!), is absolutely delicious. One of my favorite parts of the movie is his musings on the whole concept of a soulmate. I wish he'd be in more stuff too. Movie trivia: He was supposed to be Wolverine in the X-Men franchise, but I believe bowed out 'cause he was still doing Mission Impossible II though. No worries, that brought Hugh Jackman into my life!

(Treat Scene: Prince Henry discussing the concept of soulmates with Leonardo di Vinci)


13. Meatballs and 10 Things I Hate About You
10 things - Bianca: You don't buy black underwear unless you want someone to see it.

Meatballs - (Sung by camp counselors):

We are the CITs so pity us

The kids are brats the food is hideous

We're gonna smoke and drink and fool around

We are the Northstar CITs!

There are lots of great teeny bopper movies -- the ones that went slightly astray -- Heathers, Some Kind of Wonderful, My Bodyguard, Say Anything. I'm not sure why I picked these two, probably just because they're in my head right now. Meatballs (another Bill Murray vehicle) was another movie I saw on TV over and over as a kid. It also featured that sympathetic, yet somewhat creepy kid who was also in My Bodyguard. Who is that?

10 Things, the teeny bopper Taming of the Shrew is not great cinema, but fun to watch nonetheless. It has a great soundtrack too! Plus, where else can you see Julia Stiles dancing hotly, immediately followed by her puking her guts out? Then there's also my scene treat for the movie, which involves a pre-famous, brunette, Australian-accented (naturally), Heath Ledger.

(Treat Scene: Patrick singing, "You're Just too Good to Be True" in 10 things. / Hot dog eating contest in Meatballs).



14. The Bourne Identity and Supremacy
Jason Bourne: Who am I?

Conklin: You're U.S. Government property. You're a malfunctioning $30 million weapon. You're a total goddamn catastrophe, and by God, if it kills me, you're going to tell me how this happened.

I'm a chick AND I love action flicks, take THAT dudes! I actually went to the second one by myself in a gigantic NYC movie theater cause I couldn't get any of my friends to go with me. This "series" is one of my favorites. It made me actually like Matt Damon, whom I found pretty fucking boring before this (despite Good Will Hunting being a fine film). It's one of those films that end, and you desparately go, "When's the next one!?!?" I know there's a third coming up, and I can't wait!

(Treat Scene: Jason Bourne confessing to Neski's daughter about her father's assassination - Bourne Supremacy).


15. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's/Philosopher's Stone
Dumbledore: It does not do to dwell on dreams, Harry, and forget to live.
If you know me, you know of my obsession with the books, and if you really know me, you know what I went through with my 5th graders in Bangkok in regards to this book (a complete labor of love, one of the best things I did in my life). No one is ever happy with the book that becomes the movie, but I thought this first installment was well-acted, and true to the book. And the casting is fucking incredible, movie after movie. (R.I.P. Richard Harris). I was so surprised when Alan Rickman was cast as Snape, but now I couldn't possibly imagine anyone else; he's incredible. Each subsequent movie is very watchable too, but it's this first one that I'm stuck on (despite the third book being my favorite). (Treat scene: Harry's use of the Mirror of ERISED and Dumbledore's subsequent speech against it, or, the Quidditch match).


16. Ladyhawke

Phillipe: I know I promised, Lord, never again. But I also know that YOU know what a weak-willed person I am.

It was my favorite movie from age 12 to somewhere in college, until my then boyfriend pointed out all of the movie's ridiculous flaws and tarnished the whole experience for me. Still, by then I'm sure the movie helped to fuck up my current irrational expectations of what is a great love affair. Michelle Pfeiffer glows, Rutger Hauer is brave and chivalrous, and Matthew Broderick is just what a 12-year old girl needs to swoon over, a 'cute as a speckeld pup' man who is witty, charming, and well, a thief. Not to mention, when haven't I liked a movie with a big of magic in it?

(Treat Scene: When Navarre and Isabeau have a near-meeting a sunrise).


17. Stripes
Russell Ziskey: You could join a monastery.

John Winger: Did you ever see a monk get wildly fucked by some teenage girls?

Russell Ziskey: Never.

John Winger: So much for the monastery.

Razzle Dazzle! How fun is this movie, and could a movie be anymore completely a showcase for one person (Bill Murray) than this? I think sadly he would be pigeon-holed for the rest of his career into repeating this kind of humor in every role, but it's just 'cause we can't get enough. It's the same character in Groundhog Day, but as enjoyable as that movie was, my god, could you watch that again and again? Not me.

(Treat scene: The rescue from Czechoslovakia)


18. The Sound of Music

Sister Margaretto: After all, the wool from the black sheep is just as warm.

Another movie of my childhood that I watched on TV at least once a year. I can sing every song, and have always been eager to go to one of those Sound of Music Sing-Along productions, similar to Rocky Horror, where you get dressed up and go and sing along with the movie, but alas, none around anymore! As a girl, I wanted to be beautiful Liesl with her scumbag betrayer Nazi boyfriend. Thank god we grow up. And of course, Julie Andrews is a goddess.

(Treat Scene: "These are a Few of My Favorite Things").


19. Star Wars and Grease
Obi-Wan: That's no moon.

I'm putting these two together because they're kind of the same for me - they were two of the first movies I ever saw as a child, and which remained deeply loved ever since. My aunt (just three years older than I) had the 8-track of the Star Wars movie -- just pure dialogue -- don't ask me, I don't know -- and she would recite Princess Leia's indignant prisoner of war speech constantly. And of course, the Christmas I recieved the Grease album was a VERY big deal. I used to stare at the pictures, and sing every song, with the exception of, "There Are Worse Things I Could Do" which I found boring and confusing then, but genius today. And didn't ever little girl pretend she was the slutty version of Sandy (what was the message THAT movie was sending?!) and stub out our cigarette with our red hooker shoes?

(Treat Scene: When Slutty Sandy makes her appearance. / Obi-Wan and Darth Vader's showdown).


20. La Vita é Bella (Life is Beautiful)
Guido: Buon giorno, Principessa!

Probably the only Holocaust movie I could watch over and over. Like Stripes, this movie is solely a vehicle for Roberto Beningi, the Sun that all other cast mates orbit around (though his son Giosué is pure sweetness itself). Even in the most dark and dire of situations, life is beautiful. If you are not touched by this beautiful movie, you don't have a soul.

(Treat Scene: When Guido explains the "Rules of the Game" to everyone in the concentration camp barracks).

Cruel Cruel Missoula - Part II

As previously mentioned, I'm having a helluva time with the job market in Missoula. So, I was pretty thrilled when I got a temp job at a non-profit writers' association. Writers! I love writers! I wanna BE a writer, right?

Most of the time I worked with "Steph" who I liked immediately. She was very friendly and left me to myself most of the day to work on the project I was assigned, which was very interesting since it involved the writers and photographers who belonged to the organization. Like many here in Missoula, Steph was all about the outdoors -- skiing every weekend,hiking the backcountry whenever possible. My god the people here make me feel like a Weeble Wobble. (Weeble Wobbles wobble but they don't fall down!).

As time went on, and I did my best to do a good job, I was told that they had a position that was open. It was only four hours a day, but it had the "potential" to go full-time. It sounded great. Finally, a job! A good job! An interesting job! HOORAY!

Now, it wasn't a perfect job by any means. Just by being half-time, it meant I'd have to get a second job somewhere else. Also, the organization was going through a time of chaos (gee, have I heard this tune before?) due to some internal conflicts. And finally, the entire organizational staff consisted of Steph, another nice woman as the editor, and the boss, Kyle. Up until this point, I had had little contact with Kyle, but he seemed nice enough. Yeah, nice....

Kyle put me through an hour-long interview regarding the job. He told me that he was interviewing another person as well, but that since I already knew the organization, I was the front-runner. Then Kyle began to reveal the aspect of his character which would torture me for the next two weeks....

In one breath, Kyle discussed the many issues and conflicts the organization was facing, first and foremost being a lack of funding which had shrunk the staff from five to three. Due to this, he thought the job may go full-time, but you know, he couldn't guarantee it. I would be expected to take over Steph's job, a job that all admitted was much too much work for her to do in an eight-hour shift (although it was revealed that she almost never stayed less than ten hours at a time), during my own, four-hour shift. I would have to work hard, real hard. And due to the fact that I was still tied to my temp agency, I would continue to make my single-digit wage for the next few months.

It wasn't the most promising job offer I'd ever received.

But it didn't stop there, despite Kyle offering me up a big steaming plate of MAYBE. In the next breath, he began to tell me that despite all this, what he wanted from me was an agreed, sealed, guaranteed, promised, signed-in-blood VOW that I would never ever ever ever quit.

I was stunned. He wanted a 100% guarantee, but he could offer me none in return? I liked the place, and was happy for the offer, but WHO can give such a promise?

But the truth is that Missoula has demoralized me, and on more than one occassion, I've thought, "Why do I hold on to this 'dream' of having a job I love, a job I can look forward to every morning, a job that excites me? We're in some real financial trouble, why can't I just be like every other normal person and just get a fucking job and stop being a princess about it?"

Yet, in the end, I refused to sign over my first-born child. Deep down I knew that his offer wasn't fair, and if by some Act of God I was finally offered a coveted job at the University of Montana, I didn't want to jeopardize that. I believe in loyalty and I believe in my own word, and I just couldn't tell him a flat out lie. I told him the truth, I would be happy to get the job, I had no intention of leaving, and I would work hard. But I would not guarantee I'd never leave. I also told him that I would go ahead and get another job as well, since I couldn't survive on his half-day wages. He was startled and panicked, and told me, "But, you can't do that, 'cause there will be days I'll need you for 2/3 time, maybe even some busy times here and there where I'll need you for the full eight hours!" Um, okay.

So, technically, I was not really offered the job. Never officially. The following week, while still temping there, Kyle gave me another one of his clear-as-mud messages. He stood there and began to tell me he was no longer interviewing anyone else, I was the one (hooray!), and I swear to god, in the next breath, he said, "But we'll keep going with this temp thing and just see how it goes."

Huh?

It gets better.

A few days after that, as Steph was earnestly training me to replace her (her last day rapidly approaching), Kyle talked to me again, asked if I was still interested in continuing "with this," and for about the fifth time, I told him, yes, of course I was. He told me again how this job would continue until around June (but now he added "or July") when it should go full-time. And then to my utter astonishment he said, "Oh, and you know, maybe at that time we'll just open the job up to the public."

All I could reply with was stunned silence.

He continued, "Oh, but you know, you'll have been working here that whole time, so you'll already know the job, so you'll probably be the one who gets it, of course."

The coward that I was faked a smile and nodded and went, "Mmm hmm," when what I wanted to say was, "WHAT THE HELL, YOU PRICK!?" At that moment, the loyalty I had felt toward this job, and the desire to stick it out at the crappy wage and low hours, evaporated. But it wouldn't be the first time I felt kicked in the gut. The temp agency woman I worked with kept contacting me and Kyle trying to figure out what the hell was going on. What could I tell her? I didn't understand myself. And everytime she emailed Kyle, he would bring me in and say, "Well, you know, you should deal with this, you should be the one to talk to her, because, you know, you work for her and all" and he'd proceed to tell me what exactly I should say, adding the occassional, "But don't tell her I told you that!" Hmm.

Just a day or two after that, Kyle closed his door and had a very long conversation. This immediately got my antenna up since that is almost never done. Like I mentioned, it's a tiny office with just a few people in it, and so silent that every cough, whisper, and particularly, every phone call, is heard, word-for-word. And I have heard more than one DOOZY of a phone call go on there, and there had never been any privacy before. I had sat there as a temp hearing it all. So now that Kyle had the door closed, I was suspicious. Paranoid, yes, but also suspicious. For some reason I just felt that he was talking to another applicant, and I am no clairvoyant by any means.

It turned out my paranoia was absolutely correct. The next morning I came to work where Steph was already there (she normally arrived at work at 6am each morning to "catch up"). She looked straight into my eyes and told me we needed to talk. And whan ensued was a 45 minute conversation, where Steph told me how much she liked me, and how she couldn't live with herself if she didn't give me the whole truth. As you can guess, most of it centered around Kyle and his mismanagement skills. "I really like you. You're smart, you're nice, you work hard, and you're way over-qualified for this position. I just have to warn you. I know you really need the work right now, and I'm not going to tell you to quit or anything, but use this job. Use it as a stepping stone to the next thing. Get out as soon as you can."

There was a lot more to it, including her confirmation of Kyle's closed-door conversation, much more discussion about Kyle as supervisor, and what Steph had basically suffered through until she got the point where she was now, just getting the fuck out. I had no idea that she had nothing on the horizon, no new job to go to. "How will you survive?" I asked in astonishment.

"I don't know. I haven't even had time to sit and think and figure it out yet," she said sadly. I felt bad for her, bad for myself, but at the same time, felt a wave of elation. Just a few days before I had suddenly gotten two Two TWO calls from the university from two totally different departments who had found my resume in the university's temp pool that I had registered with nearly two months ago. Suddenly, I went from almost no prospects, to two interviews exactly where I wanted to work. But I had felt horribly guilty that I might actually be going ahead and quitting the job I had said I had no intention of leaving. Steph's words set me free.

There is a happy ending to this story, my gentle reader. Here I am, today, where I have had my two interviews at the university, an hour apart. The bad news is that they are both temporary, but there is much more good news. 1) They both pay more than what I'm making at the writers' association now, 2) One of them offered me a job on the SPOT! *cheer*, and 3) as they both said, this was the foot in the door of the university, and getting a job after their respective positions ended would be no problem. "I know a lot of people at this university," one woman smiled and winked at me during the interview. I wanted to kiss her.

So, all that's left for me now is to somehow tell Kyle that he can take this job and shove it. And despite my rage in my previous post on revenge, the truth is, I'm a real wuss. Though I'd love to march up to him tomorrow and tell him he was a colossal prick who strung me along and stabbed me in the back, I'm actually terrified of telling him, and NOT looking forward to that awkward moment where I have to have him sign my temp agency time sheet. *gulp* But really, there is no choice in the matter....

Well, I could always do what you're supposed to do, which is let your temp agency do it for you, but that seems even more cowardly than I feel I really am. We'll see. Either way, I am OUTTA HERE! Hooray!

And in the end, I am stunned by yet another inexplicable experience in Missoula. Like I told Beau, I feel like there's something going on in this city I don't get, something I'm missing, some secret that I haven't learned yet. Beau was stunned since he had been having a similar view. It's not exactly Stepford, but it's not normal. All I can say for now is...

What. The. Fuck. Is. Going. On. In. This. City?

I'm stumped. It's confirmed, I live in Bizarro World.