Guess what's going on in my life right now. That's what you get to hear about. On with the discussion of the people I work with.

Okay, I swear that I have to be working with one of BCA Jason's siblings. Alli? You have to get on figuring out if he has a brother named Brian working at Old Republic Title in Lynnwood. Firstly, he has that weird accent that sounds kind of like he has hearing problems, but not quite. I didn't really make the connection at first, but today he did some totally Jason-like things. He and Greg were making Vivian and me do some horrible tedious work, but it was okay, because we got to bug them when things didn't quite add up. So anyway, I'm asking him a question because the file I was working with wasn't labeled, so he figures it out and writes it on the label and says "it's right there, how come you didn't see it!?!" EXACTLY like Jason would have done. It was eerie. From then on, whenever I heard him talking, I could see Jason in my mind. I'm telling you, it's freaky! I want to ask him some sort of sneaky question, like, "are you a Quaker?" Then I would know, because, come on, how many Quakers can there be who talk like that?

The low-down on the weirdest job situation ever:

So Monday afternoon I'm sitting around doing what I do best, reading, when the phone rings and I'm like "hello?" And I hear, "blah blah blah, CampusPoint, blah blah blah job starting tomorrow, are you interested?" And I'm like, "heck yeah!" And he's like "I'll send you directions, be there at 8." And I'm like, "cool, what was your name again?" And he's like, "Lincoln." And I'm trying really hard not to call him Abe. Actually, that last part was made up, but I would have liked that to have happened. Anyway, he says that it's a kind of a test thing, if I do well, they'll hire me permanently (By the way, CampusPoint is a job search service for recent grads)

So I look up the job listing, and it says that it's a two-week job ending August 5th. Guess why I didn't apply. So, I'm thinking...okay, whatever.

So I go (see rain comment). And it is a long way away (see time equation), but it's a long way to anywhere with jobs. I'm waiting for 45 minutes (I was 15 minutes early and the dude was 30 minutes late) and when the name I was told comes in, he foists me off, saying that he thought someone else would come get me. Okay, so how was I supposed to know that, not that he blamed me. But the dude who is supposed to teach me is not there yet. So Brian starts showing me around. Part-way through the tour, Greg (the teacher dude) comes and assumes that I've already been told everything I need to know.

So lalala. My "work friends," pretty much the only people I feel comfortable going up and talking to, are Greg, the guy who's leaving next week, and Vivian, the copyroom girl who's temp-time is up next week. Fun huh? Greg thinks that they'll probably extend Vivian. Greg, he kind of reminds me of a Chinese Pili. He kind of dresses like him, though don't all guys dress alike? Every once in a while, when I ask him a question, he uses a teacher tone with me, like "so what does 9000 mean?" And he's always telling me to remember to take my breaks. What is there to do on a break anyway? Besides being the only female under 30 that I've seen, Vivian is the Korean girl who studies scriptures during lulls and listens to the gospel station. I thought she was Japanese, but today I caught a glimpse of her half-Korean book. She remind me of Tomomi, and whenever I'm about to look at her, I expect her to look like Tomomi.

So everything's going pretty well, it took about 30 seconds to learn the filing system and the people smile and say hello. Except no one has told me how long I'm supposed to stay. The boss guy wanders around, and he told me that it's Casual Friday with free breakfast, but other than that, we just say hi to each other. One of the older guys asked me if this was my first job, yadda yadda, and maybe if I keep working temporary jobs, I'll figure out what I want to do with my future. Huh? If I was looking for clues as to my status, I wasn't going to get them there. Today he comes over and he says, "Those two guys over there (Brian and Greg) are leaving next week, maybe I should talk to Jack (the boss-guy) about you taking one of their jobs." I have no clue what they do! He says it's easy. Who knows, maybe the guy is insane.

And the freaking commute is never consistant. I left 15 minutes later than normal and was still 15 minutes early. And then I shaved off 15 minutes somewhere on the way home, I'm telling you, they're messing with my head. And did I say, it takes me an hour and sometimes 15 minutes to go 24 miles? That's how far the job is from my current living situation.

One more complaint, and then I'm done. Rain. You turn on your windshield wipers, and hey, great. 30 seconds later, you're wiping dry glass, but you turn them down, and you can't see anything.

9 hours at work + 1 hour at least each way + waking up an hour early to get ready + preparing lunch and wardrobe the night before = more than half the day spent on a job. + the time spent debilitated from the eye strain caused at work = I wanna go back to school.

At 6:30 in the morning it's really dark. And clouds up here are lazy, they have figured out the most efficient way to deposit rain on us: become fog and let us come to the rain. I couldn't figure out why I couldn't see, and then I turned on the windshield-wipers.

It says document specialist on the position. People who have strange hobbies (I really just don't know why they want them) ask for records of ownership (I think) from the past, and I have to get it for them. Post-1988, fine, fabulous, anything for you pal. Pre-1988, microfiche mania, hence the eye-strain. Free tip: don't try to read the articles when they are moving.

Bringing some perscription strength stuff tomorrow, though I didn't hurt too bad today until I started to drive home. If I can't cope by Friday, I'm going to have to call it a day.

Laugh no longer. I start tomorrow at 8.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGG
GGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Food that I can't live without: graham crackers, avocado

The best snack food: toasted cinnamon raisin bread with butter, baby carrots

When you're cold: hot water without tea, blow drying your hair

Two is the magic number (though it is the loneliest since the number one)

I always think things in my head (hey, good place for that, no?) and then I think, "hey, that'd be good to share on my blog," and then I get all ready to go, but it's gone (Hey Ellie, does that remind you of that birthday card again?). I think there's something about the illumination from the screen affecting my brain. It's either that, or I have pre-Alzheimer's like Bush, and I'd like to assume the first, thank you very much (ha, got the spelling on one, except for the ei. What good is that stupid rhyme?).

More on the lack of time definition. I was at the store today and this family came in, and I was thinking, "hey, shouldn't all those kids be in school?" Oh so sad.

Even sadder is that I'm stopping myself from buying things. Oh cruel cruel world!

Happy October. Dude, time is flying by. It's weird not to have anything by which to reflect the passing of time (can't end in a preposition now). For as long as forever, I've counted down the days until summer break, marked each year by my grade, just toiled through to some ending in the vague future that I never believed would ever arrive.

It disgusts me that I've forgotten so much French and Japanese. I've been close to fluent in both and now... At least school provides some incentive. Now the only incentive is food. Ha! food... not nearly as persuasive as grades.

You mean, people can read this thing??

Today I bought the unabridged diary of Sylvia Plath. Hopefully I won't identify too much.

So I kinda wanted to learn how to sketch. Unfortunately, I don't think I should be starting anything no career related.

Dude, remind me not to read everyone's blogs before I start my own. Now I'm trying to remember what the heck I was going to blog about...oh yeah.

I finally found my focus, the thing I will deprive myself of until I get my act together. Furniture. At least, I'll try to deprive myself. I wouldn't let myself buy a $50 table-type thing today, but I ended up getting a $10 Firkin/basket. Hey, I don't know what a Firkin/basket is either, but it's kinda cute, and it was marked down from $40. It's a wooden basket, but it was legs so it's like a stool, and it has a handle so you can carry it around like a purse. Hey, it was cheap. Did I mention that all the things I have to keep depriving myself of are from antique stores? I have a serious weakness for old things in different styles. Once I actually get money, it's going to be a struggle not to spend it all on old wooden things that cost thousands of dollars and are too big to fit anywhere. So that is my happy news.

Crazy news: I may have to avoid anyone in my extended family. I got a whole speech on how I should look for government work, maybe in the post office or at the prison, today. Federal pays better than County which pays better than State, just in case you were wondering. Can anyone think of a quicker way of dying than to get a government job?? I can't. Oh yeah, and the prison is fine, but you should avoid working in the Welfare Office apparently. Everyone is either on their way into or just getting out of prison...so, I just kinda spaced off at that point.

So now that the Big Move has fallen through, I have nothing to be working toward. I'm not saving up for any special future, there are no CDs that I'm dying to have. Now I have a sniffle that was an evil cold, and I'm using it as an excuse to not take the dog for a walk. What else will I use it to not do?

I got an email from SUA asking permission to use my Capstone as an example to show the current seniors. I wanted to say no, because, well, mine is boring and longwinded and I could probably write something better in my sleep (which brings up the question, well then, why didn't I?). But I figured that it's time to move on, and if viewing my horrible writing gives someone else the boost of confidence needed, then it's all to the good. I think my Capstone could have been something slightly interesting had we had the criteria that the news guys got.

So a) Blogger has decided that I am just not good enough to view it or to create a post, and b) I have suddenly developed an aversion to the internet. If I get on at all, it's just to check my email real quick and jump off. I think I'm afraid that I'll get sucked in and spend my life online.

News: I finally got a car. Okay, well, my dad got a car and I get to drive it. Hey, I picked it out and paid some of the down-payment, and some day I'll take over payments. So I'm figuring this will help me two-fold. 1) (thought I'd switch to numeration) now I have a way to get to some sort of vague future job-type place, and 2) I'll have to get a job so that I can pay for gas. The familia is still not putting a whole lot of pressure on me. You know, sometimes you just want some pressure, not understanding!

My brother got a girl for a roommate and my familia (the same as above, not the father-type) is all freaked out about it. The father who is not included in the above blanket statement is just glad that she's paying some rent. After he got back from New Zealand, he was hanging out here for a few days, but then she called and told him to come back. Hehe, and she's making him get a job. Which is interesting because, as far as I know, they're not sleeping together or anything like that.

I figured out that if I curl just the little chuck on not-quite-bang above my right eye, I can just fake the rest and it still looks okay. Hey, anything that makes my life easier is news.

I'm going to pay William to cut off my head. I'm dying of sinus pain anyway, so I figure this would benefit us both: quick and mostly painless for me and fun for him. Anyone wanna donate to the Jessica Euthanasia Fund? I figure it's going to cost a lot if he's going to go to jail for helping me out.

It's really sad to me that apparently none of us who have stayed in the country have much to blog about. At least, that's why I'm not particularly in the mood, and I'm projecting onto everyone else.

The rain announced itself loud a clear today. It's friend wind howled it's agreement. I think poor mister sun is hiding under a rock somewhere.

As Sammi once did for a friend lost to technology, I shall share with you all the happenings of our dear lost Ann, whom you may not have known was completely lost.

Upon arriving in Tokyo to begin her career as a JET, our illustrious heroine immediately and tragically come across a must-have pair of shoes. Known to sell her own soul for a part of brand-name, semi-cute shoes, our heroine does so. Instantly remorseful and filled with the dread assurance that she will never in her life wear the adequate foot-coverings, she sets about gathering the money to buy her soul back. Never once does it occur to her to take back the shoes.

Ann's first get-rich-quick scheme calls for her to sell small boxes of tissue on the city streets, having direct knowledge that all Japanese people depend on such extravagance. Unfortunately for her, she has forgotten that others, many others, will give small packages of tissues for free. Which is slightly ironic because where do you think she got her stock in the first place? After killing, maiming, or otherwise disposing of 759 of the free tissue-giving cads, she must admit to herself that there are just too many of them and she will have to come up with another brilliant plan.

By this time, the evil-hearted JETs have given our poor helpless Ann up for lost and moved on. Yes, the JETs moved on, all except for one hardy soul with an interest in Ann's safety...

Moving quickly on from her tissue fiasco, Ann next opens a school for young Japanese children to learn Japanese. She figures that her small stature will help ingraciate her with the young ones, enabling her to teach better than other, possibly better qualified, but un-Soka educated teachers. Again, our slightly slow friend has out-smarted herself. While there may be much demand for those with fluent Japanese, she has forgotten that, as the country of the languages birth, most children are spoken to in Japanese from their birth. Also confounding her logic, having spent too long abroad, Ann has forgotten that many people in the land of her ancestors are as small in stature as she is, indeed, some even smaller. These smaller people, according to reasoning stated above, must be even better than our Ann at relating to the children in question. Immediately realizing the folly in attempting to assassinate every single teacher, Ann gives up her dream of teaching Japanese to the Japanese children. And she forgot that children scare her.

At this time, having failed to locate Ann or even confirm that she still lives, even stalwart Allison is forced to admit that Ann is lost to all. However, if any of her family ever found out that a JET had gone missing, they would surely force her to return home to teach the undisciplined and barbarian children of her land of birth. Unwilling and slightly nauseous at the thought, Allison concocts a plan to fool everyone into believing that Ann had a slight computer glitch and is even now settling in at her new job. Hacking in to Ann's blogger account proves easy enough, after all, the password proves to be a truth that all know, jessicasthequeen. After leaving a trail of Ann like messages, she must convince the others that they should expect to word for a while. After all, she can't be expected to continually update both their blogs. Easy enough, there are forever festivals and conferences that she must attend, why not Ann? And so Ann's true friends, the only ones who can rescue her from her shopping-induced danger, and made complaisant about her lack of news.

Meanwhile, having no more ideas about how to make a quick buck and regain possession of her soul, Ann enters a prostitution ring.

Tune in tomorrow, or next week, or whenever I feel like continuing the tale of drama and intrigue, and maybe I'll throw in some true love and a few yakuza.

Why am I forever dreading Mondays??? Oh yeah, I remember.

Okay, the Middle East branch of the family is gone. And with them goes a good chunk of my excuse for not having a job. And it's already the middle of August. Oh well, I was thinking I may become a superhero, or a schoolbus driver. I saw Sky High today, and I think that would be pretty cool. Just have to find some toxic waste to dump myself in.

Ha, I already saw the marching penguin's Hollywood debut. It was pretty cute, but no Winged Migration. Though I do have to say, watching what the poor fluffies go through to procreate, I will NOT be one in my next life. And having to trust the men and all.