3-1: If they say I never loved you...

(...You know they are a liar...)

Colbert was interviewing a video-blogger earlier tonight, who was jailed for not surrendering his tapes to the feds. The whole thing was rather like the ejaculative wet-dream of a Mitro~~* first-year class. Not that there's anything wrong with that, it was in fact quite enlightening, but man do I have a different perspective on the media since then.

I don't know how long exactly I've wanted to write. Truthfully it's the only thing I can remember caring about doing enough to get good at or trying to learn about (although in consequence that led to an interest in many diverse things to varying degrees.) But a good indication of my long-running affair with writing comes from thisa instance in Grade 6... we were told as part of a class project to determine a job... a career or occupation for ourselves as adults. I picked writer. I don't know what I envisioned myself writing, because I wasn't aware at the time of how big the world is, I just wanted to write... comics, I imagine. So I had that written down, "Writer." Then my teacher, the wonderful Mrs. Gativeckas (or however it was spelled,) announced that there was a comet headed toward the Earth and that everybody had to state their case in a brief speech, based on their occupation, why they should be allowed a spot in the fallout shelter (like in the Simpsons episode Bart's Comet) and the class would vote on a handful of survivors. I was stumped, because I even knew at the time that I had chosen a profession that is viewed as unessential, so when it came time for me to give my speech, I said something along the lines of this:

"Okay, so, there's this comet headed toward Earth and we need to save the most important and useful people. Um, my job is a writer, and I guess you don't need me, so I guess I'll just go off somewhere and let myself get killed. Thanks, bye."

The class erupted into laughter and I was very nearly elected into the shelter based on that. Unfortunately, Carrie McGrath (Jon's brainy younger sister - it was a split class) had declared herself, I think and the last minute, to be a horticulturist and thus she would be needed to help re-grow plantlife. Or something. So she edged me out, but I guess the positive vibes I got following that bizarre self-deprecating tirade cemented my desire to write for a living. After all, it very nearly saved me from a falling comet, which was my #1 fear between grades 4 and 7.

In that vein, I've been a busy little writer lately, at least in my head I've got a lot going on. I've got stories, artticles, rants, reviews, and most importantly, a new comic that is taking my (currently very abundant) free time. To top all that jive off, I went out and handed out some resumes today. I had intended to apply at a convenience store (you know the one I mean.) I was inspired to do this after stopping in there (the ongoing quest for Black Cherry Vanilla Coke also takes a lot of my time these days) and seeing a sign in the window, suggesting people should apply, and touting their website. So, okay, back home and off to the website I go, and they have a little section saying "If you are personable, capable of smiling, and can lift 60 lbs, why not send us your resume? We're always looking for people. Check out our store locator to find a location near you." Well, I could've guessed who they were looking for, and I already knew where the store was - as that's how I found the website in the first place! So I dusted off my resumes and headed out to the store to drop it off.

While passing the complex, I noticed that a nearby M&M's Meat Shop was also hiring. It seemed like a do-able job, uncomplicated and not severely food preparation-related so I figured I'd drift my resume their way too. I stopped in and said "You have a Help Wanted Sign, I'd like to hand in my resume." The lady was very polite and asked if I'd be available in the fall. I told her I wasn't, and she said that's too bad, because that's what they're looking for. I tried not to get too glum, and said that in any case if they decided they just wanted someone for the summer (as if anyone ever got hired with the understanding it wasn't permanent - oh wait that's my last two jobs) they could call me. She took a pen and wrote "Not available for Fall" across the top of the resume and then noted, positively I suppose, that I was OK for summer. So I guess we'll see how that turns out, but I'm not exactly banking on it. I still think that it's a bit of a trip to expect someone to commit to fall when your help wanted sign is out at the beginning of the summer job season (where are these "summer" jobs, anyway, and how can I get one?) Not to mention that she asked if I was over 18, so seemingly that's conditional, and most people over 18 are committed to school in the fall, so the likelihood of them sticking around into September is slim, unless they aren't looking for someone who's just "over 18" but are in fact looking for middle-aged people who have no better options. Some hiring policies are downright baffling.

So I went on to the convenience store, and told them I noticed they had a sign in the window and asked if they were looking for someone. Rather brusquely he grumbled "Nah, not right now," which I guess makes sense considering the following three factors:

1) They have a sign in the window indicating they are looking for people, please see the website

2) The website claims they are "always" looking for people

3) My life by this point has become a comical series of circular anti-logic designed to send me on pointless adventures where I never truly accomplish anything but end up sitting at this blog wondering how exactly this whole thing happened.

Yes, given that those three things are all true, it's easy to see how they are not, in fact, hiring. Moderately dejected (to keep it real, I often tell myself when I have not performed well in these situation, "Who wants to work for that asshole anyway?") I set back on my way home.

And, I mean, that was my day. I also got my watch fixed, a little pricier than I'd have liked, (and I even got the cheapest strap humanly possible, so I'll be replacing it probably before too long, shelling out more bucks,) but hey, I'd been putting it off plenty.

Annoyingly, my resume has my Sheridan e-mail address on it, not taking into account that I haven't checked it in like a month by now (a little less but close - this computer makes a hassle out of it) but I doubt that any of those places I've turned it in would send an e-mail and forego the usual phonecall-method. It's really more for business, which I don't seem to be doing much of these days anyway.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
And make sure you keep on rockin' against the dyin' of the light
-Scotto