So back around the first of August, my sage friend E said that he was predicting that gasoline prices would fall drastically within a week of the election–to within a few pennies of $3.
He was half right.
Seen on my way to work this morning: $1.98 per gallon.
I should have filled up before I left town–it’s $2.39 where I am tonight!!!
So he was correct, but just had the wrong dollar point! Go E!
So last night my brother came home for the weekend. We are very close, but we haven’t seen each other much in the last six months. He only lives 120 miles away, but with logistics, jobs, and the cost of gas it has been a bit difficult to get together. I realize this is common as you grow older, but at the same time it’s a bit sad as I love my brother, he is my best friend.
Anyway, last night he came home. We had actually planned to meet last weekend at a nearby theme park to enjoy their Halloween theme, but the weather was abysmal. So after I got off work (yes! I’m employed! It’s a temp gig, but at least it’s full time with benefits. Took a 30% pay cut, but it was the only thing I could get for now! Back to our regular story…) Continue reading
I meant to post this earlier this week, but forgot.
From my pastor last Saturday night, who was trying to say the lesser of two evils:
” . . . Even if you’re trying to decide which of the evil of two lessers to vote for . . . “
Cracked me up.
I realize that it has been a long time since I have had to pound the pavement searching for employment and that things have changed since I last looked over a decade ago. As a result, the last three months have consisted of LOTS of time on the computer, LOTS of time driving to interviews (averaging 2-3/week since mid-July), and constant concern over what to wear to each interview in order to set the proper impression.
I realized today that I probably make a much bigger deal than needed over that last concern.
This morning, I went for an interview–my third one this week, so I’m right on schedule. Like many companies do, the HR director set aside an entire day for interviews with the appointments staggered throughout the day. For this particular company, there were actually two HR personnel taking appointments. I had been instructed to come with a hard copy of my resume, a list of references, and to dress in professional attire. Now, I don’t know if it was just my HR director that issued that edict, but if what I saw in the waiting room is any indication the definition of professional attire has changed drastically since I last looked for a job.
I was one of six women to pass through the reception area. (Keep in mind that it was 60 degrees outside and rainy.) When I first entered the Suite there were only two women waiting–a girl in jeans and a sweater who kept talking on her cell phone and a blond girl that was wearing black pants, a printed black sweater jacket, and a belly skimming sweater top. Turns out that the jeans girl was simply waiting to give a ride to a very nattily dressed gentleman that was in an interview room, so that made sense as she was not there in a professional capacity. Next, a very nicely dressed African American lady wearing black pants and a printed blouse entered. She looked very put together, but when she sat down next to me it was all I could do to keep from moving as she had on so much perfume I was seeing stars. Then came in two young girls at the same time. One was very petite, hair in a ponytail, black skinny jeans, and a ribbed white top carrying a cell phone and keys. Not really my idea of professional attire, but it was the other girl that changed my outlook on how to dress for an interview. Continue reading
It’s been awhile, so it’s time again for the things that I found interesting online today!
- Oh how I wish I had been there! I love Prosecco, it’s one of my favorite wines. Today I found a news article that shows I’m not the only one, as a plumbing mistake turned water into wine during a public celebration in Marino, Italy. Evidently during the town’s Sagra dell’ Uva, or Grape Festival, there is a point when sparkling white wine flows from the fountains in the main square. But this year locals and tourists were surprised to receive water instead of wine as a mistake by the plumbers meant the wine was switched to local homes. How many people do you think managed to stock up before they festival officials alerted the local town magistrates???
This one from my brother. It is just so unthinkable that I have a hard time comprehending it. (Or, as he said, it’s a pain in the Continue reading
Six months ago this Saturday, October 11, my blog started as a way to see if I could be creative enough to write something interesting every day for 60 days. Well I don’t know about the interesting part, but the 60 days went well enough. Everything from rants on the news to sharing absurd news stories to random tales of my life and reviews of TV infomercial products found their way into my ramblings. And once the 60 days were over I kind of stopped trying to find something to talk about daily, instead just choosing to publish when I found something worthy of discussion. I have never published the blog widely, only to a few select friends and whomever happened upon it by chance. I don’t even think my family knows of it–if they do, I certainly didn’t tell them, they must have found it from somewhere else.
I’ve never been one for keeping a diary, even as a kid. I have a fairly (okay, a really good) memory, even if my mother swears it is selective in the facts it retains. This blog was never meant to serve as a diary, simply another outlet to express whatever the heck I feel like expressing, and if it was autobiographical in that endeavor then so be it. Yet I have noticed a marked decline in the number of postings since I lost my job in July. I don’t know why, but it just has. I don’t know if I just don’t feel like writing, I don’t feel inspired, I don’t make the time, I just don’t wanna, I just don’t know. Maybe it’s because losing my job was such a traumatic and raw experience for me that everything else in life became traumatic and raw by comparison, and I’m all about sharing the fluff instead of the realism. (Why else do you think I put so many weird newscaps on here for cryin’ out loud?!?!)
So for those three of you that click in to read every now and again, hoping to find something semi-entertaining, my apologies. Hopefully better times are coming soon!
From a conversation at lunch today, when everyone present was ranting about their mothers:
“My mother, God love her, bless her heart, . . . . “
I mean, come on. Every Southern girl knows that either one of those phrases is enough to guarantee a good tale, but when both of them are used? In conjunction with one another? Look out!
The only problem was that I was sitting right next to my own mother, so I was limited in my participation levels.