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Skeletons and The Girl-Faced Boys, You'da Been Better Off

I haven't been having the best luck health wise this year, but I'm trying to avoid even thinking "worst body year ever!" The latest saga is my foot. I've been feeling pain in it for a while and my no insurance head in the sand fix was to get some arch support and stop wearing flat ass flip flops worked for a bit. But the other day, it became pretty unbearable and I got tired of hobbling along, so I used my 4-day old insurance (we heart The Freelancer's Union!) to stroll over to the podiatrist and get it checked out. I was hoping for a nice sturdy insert and some painkillers, but instead I got a soft cast and next week I go back for the real way. Yay me? I guess I'm gonna get my money's worth out of these months of insurance I just paid for. And amazingly, I woke up this morning finally not in pain for first time since I don't even remember. So, it's heading towards all good.

The drawbacks are: 1) strangely, a bandaged foot is a prime target for stepping on. Goddamned jerks. 2) It doesn't really get me a seat on public transportation. I just end up with funny looks really. 3) I'm showing up to my first day of the new job looking like an accident prone dumbass. Ah well. 4) This more or less ruined a really fun weekend I had planned. Hard to dance in a cast and boot. 5) The only places I'll probably be the next couple of weeks are work and my damned fourth floor walkup. I think my couch and I will develop a very special relationship.

In other life, this job transition is very nerve-wracking for me. I really liked the place I left today. Not only because it was a great port after feeling so adrift back in the spring and helped me gain a lot of confidence and pride in my abilities, but the people were awesome and taught me a lot and working for one of the motherships (even as a lowly freelancer) does have its advantages. Now, I'm transitioning across town and it's like Monday is my first day of school. I'm sure it'll turn out great, but it's very overwhelming at the moment.

Lately, I've been listening to the old Skeletons album, the new Battles, and Oui and the latest Sea and Cake. Considering those are the three groups I've been obsessively going to see this spring/summer, I'm sure that's not very surprising. Oui was unearthed when I was randomly browsing through CDs. That CD is very junior year of Wes, sitting on the porch of 68 High with Alex and Tino and the crew. I've been thinking a lot about random school times since my brand new Facebook obsession is putting me in touch with randoms I haven't seen in years and the reunion is looming. Five years! I was musing the other day that the current class going in there is Class of 2011 and I'll be 30 when they graduate. Then I thought how my brother will graduate high school in 2017 and I decided to stop playing that game. I need to learn how to live in the present more. Most of the summer I've been looking in the rearview or getting ahead of myself.

This past week, I've just been trying to keep my equilibrium going. I'm one of those people that need a neutral balance or else I'm going to fall into the hole. Last Thursday was a pretty shitty day, for instance. I got beyond drenched out in the rain, had some very not so good interviews, found out my insurance was cut off, and just felt super alone and loserish and overwhelmed most of that day. That great mood carried on to early Friday when I tried my best to just stay under the covers and cry before I got the call about some more interviews and then had some drinks and tried to perk myself up.

I ended up at a big party at 3rd Ward that night. I was determined to enjoy myself and succeeded. There was an annoying interlude with this random who latched onto me early and wouldn't leave me alone. He was too old, marginally funny, looked like a lost member of X-Clan (well, not that there's anything wrong with that part), and had this really irritating habit of singing in my ear. I had to break out some stealth moves to finally shake him. Good thing about huge warehouse parties is you can go hours withough running into a person again. I ran into Benny and Tim and ended up talking with Benny about their group and an upcoming show. He said that they were looking for singers to do background stuff and I (strange for me) volunteered. Er, haven't done more than entertain my cat in four years. That's going to be an adventure. And then I wandered around and around for hours before escaping at 8am into the insanely bright sun. It's always tough strolling in somewhere in the dead of the night and finally accepting that it's daytime and you need to go home. We party hard.

I made a new friend Sunday and I shall call him Red (for obvious real life reasons). We went to Floyd's and didn't play bocce (which is almost blasphemous) and then to see Disturbia. Which made me really hot for Shia LaBeouf, until I found out that's he's not even 21. You'd think I'd be on some what's good for the goose is good for gander since I'm hard pressed to think of the last guy I dated/liked/whatever that's not older than me, but yuck at younger guys. I'm sure I'll change my tune in 5 years or so.
Last night was another Battles show. Most of my time was spent wishing bodily harm on this group of jerks who decided that no matter what the song, a mosh pit was needed. The boy came over at the end all "you're here, cool, I was going to text you to see if you knew about it, but here you are." Blah. He should make himself useful and get me a damned Battles bag. I've talked so much about it this week that the crazed need is awakened.

This week was kinda tough. I've been worrying a lot about the job situation, natch. Good/bad effects: weight loss. The "so stressed that I'm despairing" diet works wonders. But I've been working my ass off the past couple of weeks and it paid off with mad interviews and finally today, a new job. I'll be freelancing as a PM/producer at an agency that could eat my old one for breakfast, so I'm really excited. And I even have nothing but goodwill (today at least) towards my old boss for forcing me onto the market to make a living wage. Yay for me!

Just under 2 weeks to go! I'm looking forward to this birthday so much. I'm definitely sick of being played out like a kid because I'm currently under 25. I mean it's ridiculous, as if once I cross that line, I'll be magically more mature. It annoys the hell out of me. A hardcore post-birthday perk is if I ever learn how to drive, I can finally get those good rates!

This year's present wishes include: the Trapped In The Closet DVD, a ticket for the Kelley Polar show, strawberry cheesecake with strawberry ice cream from Junior's, someone to tell me what those jeans with the gold-colored A on the back pockets are, and drinks at Milk & Honey. I'm pretty easy this year.

And to stop being all cryptic for just a minute, I've been working hard on resolution duty and I'd like to report that: I fucking rule. What I was alluding to last month was me feeling really bummed about my work situation for a long time and giving myself the deadline of March 17th to either get something new or walk away. And I found a place where I think I'll be a perfect fit and I start at the end of March. I haven't been this excited about a new venture in years and it's my opportunity to be as creative and successful as I've always wanted to, when I wasn't second guessing myself. So, I'm happy happy happy and pretty much just working on extracting myself from the present situation and looking forward to Miami/M3. Honestly, it just makes me feel really fucking good that I really am a desirable and I didn't go into school debt for my health. Go me! Job hunting and feeling stuck is mega demoralizing and all the props in the world go out to the friends and the fam for being so encouraging when I really was beginning to think I'd forever be a drone getting my brain sucked away. If this doesn't call for a celebration, I dunno what does!

It's one of those not so secret blog things -- you know, openly alluded to but not explicitly stated to pretty much cover my ass, e.g. my last name -- that I've been on the fence about my job for a minute now. The typical complaints: over-/underworked and definitely underpaid.

The summer's been tense on that front with a lot of switchups company wide and I got a raise, which was nice but didn't help much. My super great boss resigned the other week which was really surprising, but she's off to go live out her dream or whatever, so that's cool and I was sorta jealous at first. I was being semi-pushed for her job, but was on the fence and I opted out of that. A girl on the team stepped up (I actually pushed her towards it) and I wavered for a minute if I was going to take her old job, since I already basically do it half the time anyways (a part of the overworked bit). Yesterday was the "interview" with HR where I put on my enthuasiastic face and worried that I was sounding like a total ass, but found out the paper work was basically drawn up for me to sign and they were just waiting for me to show some initiative.

So, I got a promotion! Go me! I'll also have a lot more money coming my way and a semi-schmancy title (though no one knows/understands what I do anyways, so whatever). In some ways, more responsibility and in others, 75% less aggravation. The shallow happiness comes from now being on par with what I know people my age in similar industries (whom I've been resenting heavily like forever) are making. I might actually have something to save now! Imagine that.

Still, this kinda throws a monkey wrench into some plans I've been drawing up. I'm locked in through the fall now, but I think my free time and general happiness/stress level should only improve. After that, we'll see what happens. If I wasn't so preoccupied with Thursday's happenings and probably wanting nothing more than to sleep/chill after that, I'd suggest a party or something.

So, if I've decided that I'm out of my present place by the end of July (despite getting a nice raise!), new job or none, would I be crazy or fucking crazy? Anyone need a media office bitch?! I can crunch numbers and talk on the phone and write really well! Le sigh.

As fun as it is listening to 3 6 Mafia and Trina at work, is not being able to go on AIM a good enough reason to quit? Not that I would (quit, that is). Really. But, I'm more miserable than I've ever been. Sigh.

Reality sets in sometime mid-morning Monday. I queue insertion orders on one screen and toggle to the furniture listings on the next. I'm aiming to buy the bulk of the apartment furniture off Craig's List. That site is good to me as the spot I found the apartment, job, former column, parties, and misadventures. The Zen plays on low (since I have a thing about ear-drum splitting music outside of clubs) and I'm unable to drown out the screeching whines across the aisle no matter how much I zone out. This scenario has played out for too long. I don't think I can last much longer.

I'm in a position of liking the job in itself but hating the co-workers. I like my team. I like that I'm autonomous. But, I hate the pervasive camp culture and the team near us with the most high-pitched voices (male and female) I've ever seen. I'm a loner in a box. I know I've been isolating myself further as time has passed out of spite and I'm sick of it. It's counterproductive and makes me feel worse. I want to be a part of a group, just not that one. I'm mentally planning my escape.

Ant and I both view the new place as a fresh start. He hopes to be released from the desk chains and I just want to feel creative again. Money is always the big factor. In a way, I should've been more proactive and laid down some tracks for the writing last year in my marginally employed state, but hindsight is 20-20 and I also couldn't afford it then either. I wasn't mentally ready. In a way, I feel like I'll be more hungry now. I need you to accept my pitch/resume because I've got my share of rent/cable/gas/electric to pay and have no nest egg/parental bankrolling to fuck around with, motherfuckers! Meanwhile, I'm stepping up -- brainstorming, researching, eyeing the options... but I can't jump until I've got something set. And you probably thought my resolutions were just lip service? Shit is real, people.

Yesterday, I was thinking to myself that besides the whole paycheck aspect, this whole working thing is way overrated. Sitting in one place for over a third of my day, during prime sun-filled hours, in a fucking ice box. Stupid annoying ass people, bitches walking like Peggy Bundy and skeezy guys hitting on everything that moves and this butterface who thinks she so fucking cute and these girls go to the bathroom in PAIRS it really is fucking junior high!!!

Oh, I did mention I had approximately an hour and a half of sleep last night? Isn't it obvious?

Anyhoo, yesterday I was like "you know, tomorrow's a 9-2 day because of the holiday weekend, so fuck it! I'm going wild." I popped in at Sapph as I do to find the yuppie brigade in full force, most in suits and ties. I asked my friend the bouncer with a sneer, "what is this? an office party?" Some eavesdropping girl was all "no!" really bitchily. I gave her a look and wished I was a man, so I could give her "deez nuts, bitch" gesture. It's one of the few man things I envy. "Suck on my left one" or whatever just doesn't have the same ring. Especially since there's always the fool that would be "umm...okay!" I'm not trying to get my Courtney Love on, thanks. (Isn't also fairly obvious that I'm only a semi-reformed tomboy? Yeah, I thought so.)

I really love Sapph. It's totally like Cheers. "Hey"s and waves all around as I saddle up at the bar. "Where've you been?" said my bartender friend. "I haven't seen you in forever! I thought you were dead!" Sheesh. "Umm...I was just here last week." "Hmm...well you left mad quick." "True...but dead? I was just a little tired, man!" Everyone was asking about P. Fizzie. Take a kid there twice and they're all "where's my boy at?" "At home with his girl," I replied. "Tell him to bring his ass here next week!" Consider the message passed.

Considering my disgruntlement with everything, I had a blast at Sapph. Once the yuppies cleared, it was the regs plus friends and randoms just chatting, drinking, dancing. I was a chatty chatterbox to the extreme. (Yay 2 for 1!) Then again, I'm a random magnet, so it's par for the course. I got one guy telling me his past relationship drama all bitter like (the synopsis: live in gf cheated with best friend and now they're dating and he's gotta move. Burn!). If anything I can say I've learned lately, live ins are a bad idea. It apparently needs to be held up as a relationship killer. But yeah, talking about relationship trauma, that's sexy...NOT.

There was this new DJ getting static and zero love because he drove the brigade out. I, of course, wasn't too burnt about that, but then again, it's not my money at stake. Can someone explain to me why good DJs who understand the principles of mixing and mood are playing small hole in the wall lounge parties and shitty hipster DJs are everywhere else? Is there someone who's like "yeah, I've got a space that fits about a 1000 and I want terrible music. Hmm...who can I pick?" This guy was really mining the crates and he played my request like 2 mins later. (I said Brand Nubian to go with what he was doing and he threw on "Slow Down." I've got "what I am is what I am" on a loop right now. Someone please give me a new song.)

We closed the place out and then some and I found myself at Houston and Allen at 4:30 feeling very sad. Long trek ahead of me and I still had to be up at 6:45. In my sleep disorientation, I got off at 71st Continental for some reason I still don't really understand. Great...that was another 30 mins on my trip. I stumbled into bed at 6:15ish and had the radio blasting until Ms. Mommy peeked in like "get up, turn that shit off, do something" plus some "you know you had to get up this morning so blah blah reap what you sow blah blah kernel #467 from the parents handbook." I was too tired to do a "deez nuts" this time plus I like my life.

And the story ends at work with a big ass cup of french vanilla coffee and a permascowl. I'm lucky that at 23, I can bounce back from this shit fairly well. But knowing me, unless I'm all super domesticated in 10 or 20 years, I'll still try it every once in a while. A little rager never hurt in the long run.

Considering that a massive part of my week is spent on the job, you might notice that I don't have to much to say about that. Is that actually surprising though? Though I might actually blog from there (not that you just read that) occasionally, I'm not dumb enough to write too closely because I like my job (mostly) and more importantly, like that paycheck too much to fuck it up. *Chris Tucker voice* And you know this, mannnn!

But because I'm me and I write about everything minus menstruation and explicitly identifying details, here's a hit list of notable things happening for me during most days:

• The little things make all the difference in an office situation. A bit of shuffling aroud a few weeks back has taken away that pesky "everything on my screen is in plain view, so I couldn't BS to my heart's content" problem. I've got a nice new spot a row over and I can see them when they're coming. Yeah, baby.
  
• There's something about an office that brings out the high school nature in adults. I guess it's the whole sitting around aimlessly when you'd rather be somewhere else, like home or having fun. There are like popular cliques that have formed and shit. But true to form, I do my own thing and socialize on my own terms.
  
• I've found a new focus boy. I got tired of the other one. He was a little too hipster goth for my tastes. This new guy and I bonded at the coffee machine over the whole dual lives thing and trying to keep ourselves awake and fresh after a hard night of partying and the like. And yes, of course, only I would bond with someone over shit like that.
  
• But, that's par for the course in the kitchen. I think it's the only place in the office I can be regular Candice instead of the work poker faced girl. Besides, IM that is.
  
• And also semi-true to form, the team I'm on has to be the one with all the drama. There was a coup last week and we're currently our own bosses. Yay?
  
• It's nice to have money and be able to branch off from McD's and bagels. There's a heap of good shit to be found around the job. Fucking Olive Garden has takeout! I never thought I'd be so excited about anything.
  
• I've learned that there's such a thing as me being too smart for my own good because I've been hearing, "Wow, Candice, you're really smart, so we're gonna teach you how to do her job and hers, so when you're not drowning under your own work, you can help them out too. Mmmkay?" My (invisible) nuts.
  
• But I think the "best" part has to be is that knowing that even as my work pile is growing every day, for my group the really busy season isn't coming for another couple of months. Yay? *sob*
  
• How do people do this whole vacation time scheduling thing? I just don't get it. I can't even plan what I want for lunch tomorrow, so deciding when I want to just take off for a week is a bit much for me. But, I'm hella into that whole personal day thing. "Yeah, I'm not coming in Friday. I'm taking a personal day." In about a month, I'm gonna be on that shit like gravy on rice.

Overall though, can't complain about life in cubicle city. Especially since I'm dressing only slightly better than college days but actually ironed on a regular basis with the option to totally be all sweater-setish if I had the desire. Best of both worlds...except if they introduce a telecommuting aspect, I'd be so about that. I'm missing ATWT after all.