parable of the loaves and the ...

chickens??

Someone came in looking for Don #1 (there are a handful of them working here). Well, he's not here, so I tried several other people, who were also not around (damn people taking their vacations this week *grumble grumble*). Finally I tried Don #2, and he was at his desk.

Between me calling these several guys, the man standing in the lobby said something about, "I have these frozen chickens for Don #1".

So while on the phone with Don #2, I said, "Hey, Don, it's Kathryn. So-and-so is here from X C0MPANY and he has some frozen chickens for Don #1, who isn't here..." -insert Don #2's suprized explitive here- "... and I was wondering if you'd like to come up here and take them?"

Don2, still confused, agreed to take the situation in hand ... or wing(?).

Don warmly greeted the gent, asked him to describe the situation fully, and then the visitor went out to his truck to get the cooler of frozen cluckers.

Don turned to me, threw his hands up in the air and laughed out loud. Then he told me with a smile that when I called, "I didn't know what the hell you were talking about! Frozen chickens... I don't know what I'm going to do with them!"

I reminded him that one of Don #1's close co-workers was in the office (though he hadn't answered when I first called him before I called D2). "Make it Eric's problem", I offered generously.

When the visitor returned, with birds in tow, Don2 was the picture of hospitality. He helped the guy carry the frozen goods to a freezer and then saw him out the door again with a smile, and then went back to his desk (shaking his head).

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How weird is that!? OMFGZ, strange ... How's that for your non-sequiter for the day?

the best laid plans of mice and women

As this year draws to a close, my mind has turned once again to SCHOOL. I've begun musing about what made my past (three) attempts unsuccessful:

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attempt no. 1:
I enrolled in college right after high school. My first two semesters were wildly successful (with invitations arriving in the mail for the honors college). Foolishly I decided to take on (nearly) full-time work, waitressing at the Olive Garden, so that I could move into an apartment with my dorm room-mate. I could not forsee the mental breakdown I'd experience in the summer of '05, which caused full-time acadamia to be too much to juggle, much less school and work. After two semesters of being enrolled only half-time, I withdrew entirely, moved back in with my parents, and continued working.

attempt numero 2:
After growing to detest waitressing, I looked for employment elsewhere, eventually settling on Starbucks as a new home. After one month I decided I'd like to take a summer semester night course in Computer Science (to sharpen my slight MS Office literacy into mad skillz - so that I'd feel confident looking for work as a receptionist). Within days, a receptionist position (my current job) fell into my lap, and I took it without hesitation. The problem? I was enrolled in school in my hometown and working in Dallas. By the time I fought through traffic (from Dallas to Plano), my evening class was already halfway finished. I dropped out once again.

If at first you don't succeed... #3:
After working at my current job for about two months, I decided I wanted to give this school thing the old College-Try ... again. I've always been interested in Psychology, so I enrolled in a night class at a community college located very near to my workplace. The idea was that I'd leave work, study for a while on-campus, go to class and head home. Unfortunately, my funkeh brain chemistry requires a medication that makes me drowsy in the mornings - after taking it the night before. To counteract this, I've taken to falling asleep around 9 PM so that my 6 AM wakeup isn't too harsh. My class ended at 8:45, and was 20 minutes away from home (assuming there's no traffic), which means that I still had to prepare for bed (and for the next day) after getting home from school.

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I burned out rather quickly. It was simply too much to handle, on top of a new, more professional job.

BUT

I've talked to my doctor, and we've changed my medication to one that doesn't make me sleepy in the mornings. That change took place several weeks ago, and I feel a serious difference in my energy levels throughout the day. That, coupled with the idea that I could take a class earlier in the evening than 7:00 has heartened me greatly, and rather enouraged my self-confidence. I could do this. I could complete a single class for the duration of one semester.

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So, which class to take?

Well, my current obsession is writing, and I know I could stand some improvement ... so why not take Creative Writing? It'd be a smaller, closer-knit class (I'd imagine anyway, it being a sophomore-level class, and being rather less "academic" than, say, intro to Psychology), so I'd be able to interact more with my peers, rather than fading into the background (somewhat of a deterrant when I start questioning, "Should I attend class tonight? I'm really tired...").

Also, when I was in High School and enrolled in AP (or College-level) English, i thrived in the classroom setting, and excelled in the class, managing to acheive the highest score possible on the AP Exam at the end of the year.

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After much thought, however, I have decided that college is not in my immediate future after all. This decision is a great sacrifice to me - although I do love my job, I do not find it to be intellectually stimulating. All I do all day is answer the phone and blog or read occasionally. How I would love to be re-enrolled in school, especially after I've pinpointed my pitfalls in the past, and speculated on how best to avoid them in future!

My reasoning for not going back goes thusly:

Part of the "perks" of living at home is that I pay no rent ... but pay a rather large monthly sum towards the also large loan I owe to my father. In spring 2005, he payed for a new-ish vehicle with the expectation that I pay it off within two years. However, any time I make a sizeable dent in the lump sum, it seems some emergency comes up and I have no choice but to borrow another large amount. (Rediculously expensive dental surgery, anyone? How about a little car accident requiring out-of-pocket repairs to my own vehicle?)

My medium-term goals (being neither short-term, nor long) include feeling successful at my current job and moving the hell out of my parents' house living on my own again. To this end I have devised a Plan - if I work overtime every day, I can make enough money to increase my monthly loan payment such that I will have the loan paid off in merely four months, as opposed to the original sentance of 6 months.

If my loan is paid off faster, then I can continue to live at home (with the goal move-out day being around Christmas, but more realistically in the Spring of '08) and use funds that had previously been used to pay off the loan as savings. If I continue keeping my needs small and also continue working overtime, I can amass quite a lump sum.

That is my goal. Yes, I'm dying to go back to school, but I can harness that and use it as a drive to educate myself on my own time (thus avoiding becoming despondant about not being in school and piquing my intellectual apetite until I do re-enroll). My long-term plan is that I have enough money saved that A) either I can do some world travel or B) I can re-enroll in school full time and be able to afford to live in an (albeit small) apartment and only have to work part-time, someplace like Starbucks.

a few mundane updates, and thoughts on Christmas

I learned how to play the Office Politics Game, and a co-worker who was once rather distant is now at least tolerating my presence in the company. Which is a huge step for both of us.

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The car window + electric part thingy + labour > $150, which is tres awesome.

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My youngest brother is a bit depressed that he won't be getting many presents this Chrsitmas. He's written a rather small list, so he fears that either he won't get much else besides what is written, or (weep, moan) he'll get a new Wii (or similar "big" item) and not much else.

It's hard being 16.

I tried telling him (lovingly) that when I was his age, Dad had already been unemployed for two years, and I learned to be happy with presents that were either not numerous or that I picked out myself.

But then I remembered that, yeah, it really sucked, and I told him so. But I said that, even though the morning was a disappointment, soon the rest of the family came over (my older sis, her hubby and kids, and my older bro and his wife and kids) and we were making funnel cakes and laughing. So even though all of us were poor as church mice, and even though we sometimes didn't like each other, what was important was that we l0ve each other, we have each others' backs, and we were sharing that.

Which ended up being (and still is) the best gift of all.

I (finally) named my car ...

Monday was interesting.

Ever since my (minor) accident in November, my rear driver's-side passenger-y window has been making a *CLUNK* sound when I roll it up.

Right after sitting down at my post (I man the receptionist's desk) after lunch on Monday, the Mail Man came in with the mail and a concerned expression on his face.

"Did you know there's a small grey Hyundai out there with a smashed window?", said he.


Guess what I drive.


Yeah. My car. Since most of the glass was outside the vehicle (and nothing was worth stealing stolen from the car), I think the window was just weak and when I closed the driver's door, the pressure in the car made the window aSplode. b00sh.

So I'm borrowing my mom's car until my dad's mechanic friend can fix the gaping hole broken window. Said mechanic-friend said he thinks the window will cost $45. However, one of my co-workers said when he had an automatic window replaced, it cost him $350.

Yay, vehicle debt. If I murder my car in an act of rage, would that still be considered Vehicular Manslaughter? (Or per'aps more aptly, Man-icular Vehicle-slaughter)

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After a year-and-a-half's time spent mulling it over (that's how long I've had him), I've finally thought of a name for my car.

MALL0RY.

It means "bad luck" in The French.

a long, long time ago

(I can still remember how that music used to make me smile)

Two years ago, my then-aquaintance Nyyki told me that eternal truth isn't relative. Eternal truth is absolute, and it is simpler than many people make it out to be.

She pointed to the building on campus directly behind us. "The location of this building is an eternal truth", she said. She could tell I was still skeptical, so she went on.

"This building's address, XXXX South Nedderman Street is an uncontestable truth...." To break it down further, one could actually contest the man-made address, but the physical space it takes up on this plane of existance is absolute.

I fear I wax verbose, but do let me go on to clarify my beliefs a bit more, something I will not often do in this blog.

Accounts of the afterlife are many and extremely varied. Every religion, every culture it seems has a different view on what happens after death. In my analytical mind, why trust what a mere mortal says about it unless... unless he's experienced it and can try to describe it with words that the rest of us can understand (though our language is surely limited). I'm speaking of course of those who have clinically died and by some miracle of either science or spirituality come back.

But... those are varied! Some describe meeting Jesus. Some say they were met by a loved-one. Others describe the Pagan Summerland. Should I try to disprove one person's account, to better uphold the account that matches my own beliefs? I don't think that's either just or warranted. Each person believes their own account with all their heart. You know what all this tells me? That the afterlife is relative.... which I have concluded, after much time and thought, means that the Afterlife is not an Eternal Truth by my standards. It simply is not the same for everyone.

(The reason I believe this is so, by the way, is because there is a loving Being in control of all of this, and said Being wants to make the transition from life to death, which can be jarring, as smooth a transition as possible).

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I stumbled upon an Eternal Truth, I believe, while I was talking with my best friend Liz yesterday. She's having girlfriend woes- she was feeling sick yesterday, and her GF wouldn't make the trip from her own home town (30 minutes away) to visit Liz in her time of need because of the piss-poor weather conditions. Liz felt angry, indignant that when she most needed and wanted comfort that the one who should have been there wasn't. But she also told me she felt bad that she was angry, because she understood the GF's reasoning and (begrudgingly) admitted it was valid. "What do I do? Which should I feel?"

After a moment's pause, I warned her that if she denied her anger, effectively bottling it up and never addressing it, that it would only lead to grudges later on. Feeling bad about the anger also isn't productive, but is a sign that her rationality and her feelings were in conflict- which is a great sign that her rational thinking is healthy and working. The trick, then, is to feel the anger now, but be able to let it go later on.

That's it. What I believe is an Eternal Truth or Principle. I think it applies to everyone- to maintain sanity, feel your feelings and find a way to let them go. It is when your feelings dominate you that trouble arises.

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I could be wrong. I could be full of shit. But this is life as I see it.

meine kitty

Dimitri made a friend last night.

For those of you who don't follow Texas' weather religiously, yesterday was 80 degrees (F). Today it's 30 degrees. So I have been resigning myself to the fact that creepy crawlies would begin taking up residence in our home.

Anyway. Dimitri was in my closet for about an hour, fascinated with something or another. I didn't notice his absence for a while, but started to get concerned when he came out of the closet (literally, not ... y'know) and was still very captivated with something. Anyone who owns a cat knows that their attention span is generally very ... small, and so any span of quiet, unless it is spent sleeping, is cause for inspection of the situation. (not unlike with small children)

I turned on the light (for I had been quite comfy in my warm bed). There, in the middle of my room was my cat, having a stare-down with a cockroach. Neither of them was moving.

Dimitri looked at me. I looked him directly in the eye and asked, "Is it alive?" and then pointedly looked at the 'roach, then back at my cat. He looked at the bug, then looked at me. I asked again, "Is it alive?" and looked at the roach and then my cat.

He took the que, and poked the cockroach with his paw, and the offending vermin began to run around in small circles (which I took to mean that Dimitri had been "playing" with him for some time, and he, the cockroach, was injured).

I took the situation in hand, or rather shoe, and SMUSHED the bug. Very thouroughly.

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And this morning, as it was quite chilly out, I grabbed my coat which had been hanging unused from the corner of my bedpost for about a month (which means the coat was touching the ground that entire time).

As I put it on, I heard the *plink* of something dropping from the coat to the floor. I looked down and saw a cockroach nursing a head injury.



I opted not to wear a coat today.



*shudder*

getting to know you, getting to know all about you....

My self-confidence has been returning growing. I don't think I ever really had any to begin with. Two years ago, I was one of the shiniest, most up-and-coming musicians in my university, and I had an inferiority complex so accute it was literally painful. Before that, in High School, I estranged myself from everyone I knew, afraid that they merely tolerated my presence (and in retrospect, there were many who more than just tolerated me).

Anyway.

For the first time, I actually think I'm a rather cool cat, a keen jellybean, a ... ok, ok. I have no delusions of grandeur; I know I'm not everyone's cuppa tea. I'm prone to quiet spells. I'm sometimes inarticulate (which is odd, because I'm by no means dim). When I do articulate, my wit is wry, my mind is quick to make double-entendres, and I tend to be blunt. Very, very blunt.

But I'm (pretty much) ok with all of that. Finally.

It just saddens me (more than a little) that not many people know this about me. Or even just know me, period. I have effectively distanced myself from all the peers I was near in both High School and College, and now I'm left with three friends who live 45 miles away, 55 miles away, and 200 miles away.

Don't get me wrong. I love them and value what they contribute to my life. But it gets very lonely in the evenings, or on the weekends, when I want to just see someone.

I'm trying to be talkative in the locker room at the Yoga studio, and I've also created a few dating website profiles, but so far there's been a great dearth of fresh meat new best friend material in my life.

Anyway, I'm not complaining (too much). I (thankfully) enjoy my own company, and that of my family. I keep myself occupied with knitting, sewing, reading, cleaning... all the usual fillers.

I just crave more, by times.

shout out

I have joined a yoga studio, and attend it 3 - 4 times a week.


I feel the need to thank girl-who-wears-no-bra-and-whose-shirt-becomes-see-through-when-sweaty.


She makes it all worthwhile. Or worthwhiler.

Avast!

My dreams, which have so long been only that, are finally taking shape.

7 months.

In seven months, I'll have my car paid off and my student loans will be a thing of the past. If I can bring myself to live at home for a little longer after that, I can amass quite a nest egg.

Allow me to tell you a bit about myself. I'll be 22 in a little over a month, and I'm living at home. Yes, with my parents. And my 16 yr old brother. I dropped out of full-time acadamia last November to better get my feet under me. Long story. I moved back in with my folks at that time, amidst much pressure to re-enroll in school and to come back to the Mormon church. Despite all that, I knew moving in was the best thing for me to do at the time. There was no rent to pay, and I could keep to myself (mainly because I made my needs known, and pretty much told them to leave me alone if I needed to be left alone), and I'd be surrounded by loved ones, even if things were tense.

I believe I've been a catalyst for change (and growth) in my family. Over the past two years they've come to accept me for who I am, which went against everything they felt drawn to believe- I'm a sometimes rebellious, non-conformist, hippy/lesbian, and they had a hard time swallowing that. I wasn't in-your-face about any of the changes... that's why it took two years. As I slowly awakened to who I am (which is a process that's still going on), I slowly asked for the acceptance and love I had felt when I lived up to their every expectation of Mormon adolescent bliss.

When I was living on my own, I was waitressing at the Olive Garden. I transferred locations when I moved back in with the 'rents. I hated it. Waitressing is a hard profession, and often thankless. So I took a job at Starbucks. It paid less and had even more demanding hours (entering the store and setting up at 4:30 AM), but it was a blast. I was smiling again, and that was something I had almost forgotten how to do. Shortly after that, a receptionist position literally fell in my lap, and that's where I find myself today, six months later. It's demanding in it's own way, but it's rewarding in ways I've never experienced. And the pay is better. :D

So, my dreams.

I have every intention of going back to school full time. I may even go back to being a music performance major, like I was before dropping out (I'm a classically-trained Violist, and I haven't so much as touched my instrument since last November; a sabbatical of sorts). But not yet. There's so much life to live, so many places to explore, and I want to do it while I'm still young.

I've always wanted to travel the world, but never really thought it was feasible. After literally years of depression, I've started to dream again, and what I'm trying to say is that they all seem possible for the first time! After paying off bills, I'll be free to save my hard-earned money. With said savings, I can take extended vacations from work, or quit entirely and explore the ruins in Rome, or connect with the energies of Stonehenge, or live in England for a year.

And then there's Antarctica, a passion of mine since I first read a blog about life in a camp there 6 months ago. There are camps down there that need staff to keep them running. There are janitorial positions, food prep jobs, and even fuel-delivery. Menial labor, yes, but what an adventure that would be! I would love to sit my (as yet unborn) children and granchildren around me and tell tales of my adventures working in a science camp in the southernmost part of the world. Who else can claim that?

Though all of these things are still just out of reach of my fingertips, they're there. I can see them.

I'm experiencing a love of life and hope for the future that has long been absent, and I thank the Powers That Be for that.


[/long-winded post]

how do you see the Divine?

I found this description of the Great Goddess while worming my way through pagan blogs, and it sends goosebumps through my body every time I read it. When I read it, I see her, just as plainly as if she were sitting in the lobby I'm the receptionist for.

I see a big woman, with strength of arm and leg, large breasts, a mass of riotous long, curly hair that has all colors in it, and has a life of its own, skin the color of burnished copper, a big smile, and twinkling eyes that are very deep green. She wears a flowing garment made of spidersilk, that shifts in color with the seasons. Her smile lights up the world. Plants grow where She walks. Birds attend Her. Stars sing of Her. She cradles me in her arms--and with her cloak of starlit skies, She will carry me safely at my death.

by Quotefiend on .:Street Prophets{dot}com:.

sgt. pepper's lonely hearts club band

My best (female) friend is talking to someone. A girl that she met on match{dot}com. They're getting along famously, and I'm really happy for her. She deserves to get together with someone. To really click, have some fun in the bedroom with, to come home to someone other than her cat, or call in the middle of the night just because.

But I'm also jealous. Because I deserve that too.

Don't I?

virtual memory

My computer has been whining at me for about a month now, and I haven't been listening. It told me a few times that it (desperately) needed to increase the size of it's virtual memory, and if I would be so kind, please click "OK". I didn't, though; mostly because I didn't understand what it was asking.

So I did a little research. For those of you who don't know, be enlightened:

A computer has a little pocket of memory space set aside (every time you turn it on) that the programmes that you use delve into. Did you just open an Internet Browser? That just took a little memory out of the pocket. Is Microsoft Word open? That too takes a little memory.

I called my ex-boy toy, Doug, to have him walk me through manually increasing the virtual memory. He asked what the symptoms were.

"Well, it's to the point where nothing will open, besides my internet browser. No music, nothing."

How did it get that way?

"Well, I'd open Photoshop (a HUGE programme), have my music running, plug my PalmPilot in to my computer, and have about five internet browsers open ..."

Yeah, Kathryn, that'd do it ...

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So we increased it ... by about 200 times. Instead of having an itty bitty pocket of memory, it is now lardantuan, to better fit my needs.

Yay.

this is the story of a girl

... who cried a river and drowned the whole world ...

I'm going to a Habitat for Humanity dinner party on Friday. My dad is a manager there, and he gets discounted tickets for himself and a guest. I think this is my third time going. I get to buy a new outfit, which I am tres excited about. It's always a splendorous affair- set in a Dallas mansion, everyone dressed to kill, mingling and talking with old (or new!) friends... I'm really looking forward to it.

Especially because there's this woman that (should) be there ...

testies II

test test test test

testies I

test test test