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Last night was, as the kids say, a good time. It was a beautiful night for a Dyke March, and there were some beautiful dykes. For a while I was wearing  Crystal's rainbow flag as a skirt, which I thought was kind of funny but I saw the pictures and, umm, nope. Call me King Dork! Crystal also introduced us to Olex, who is quite cool, I have to say. I love when people don't resist my efforts to ask them 3698743659269542 personal questions. YAY! And we also met some activist-y chick named Aimee who I didn't really talk to. She and Crystal were all gabgabgabgabgab! :) Sock Monkey gave me a few kisses and I think he tried to get in my pants, but I put a stop to that. No huggy, no kissy, until I get a wedding ring.The big speaker was Leslie Feinberg and I don't know if I have enough words to say how much it meant to me. Les helped shape so many things in my mind, and sparked so many individual little thought patterns, and just to hear the voice, to see the face... wow. Total wow. After the march, Jen was thirsty and in our quest to get a drink, we got yummy lemonade from the Bridge van and then somehow ended up in Chinatown eating sushi. Yeah, whatever, I can eat sushi any time of the day but we are still trying to conserve money, so, oops. It was delicious, though. After going to the same sushi places in Columbus over and over and over, one gets kind of tired of eating the same rolls. It was refreshing to have different combinations of our same old favorites! (And since Crystal is afraid of sushi (and edamame), it was good to have Olex to enjoy TEH SUSHI with!) Hopefully we will meet up with SPOON at the parade today. I am in need of the SPOON. Crystal Light and Rolex are the shizzle fo rizzle.
Moodtrack:  happy
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Yay! Dyke March tonight! Jen and I got back from opening new bank accounts this afternoon. Most of our money is currently tied up in Ohio at our bank there, so we have to work that out, but we wanted to open the accounts ASAP so that we would have time to get checks and ATM cards and all of that. So we go to the branch and show the woman our temporary licenses, explain that we have no jobs and out-of-state cell phone numbers, and she starts to look at us rather dubiously. And then she's entering our information into the computer and her eyes get wide. She asks me, "Did you ever live at [parent's address]?" And I say, "Yes, I grew up there." And then I remember that this bank is where my grandfather has a CD in my name, and it's a good amount, and all I could do was laugh. She was quite surprised, and her big eyes were priceless. On the down side, we originally went to one branch of the bank and waited for a million years, and then finally went up to a woman who knew nothing about opening accounts or about the different accounts this bank has, or anything. And I got so frustrated with her and was SO convinced that she was going to screw it up, so we eventually had to ask her to give us our paperwork back and cancel the whole thing. Which led to us going to branch #2. Which meant that I didn't get to walk along Wollaston Beach with The Girl, like I'd planned for a relaxing Friday afternoon beach date. ~//~ I had a phone interview today for a job I want. I have an in-person interview on Monday for a job I don't really want. I have a phone interview on Tuesday for another job I want. I have an in-person interview on Thursday for a job I don't really want. See a pattern here? :)
Moodtrack: dykey
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I went on a date tonight! (Well, a pseudo-date, because I'm still faithful to my one boy love ![[info]](http://library.vu.edu.pk/cgi-bin/nph-proxy.cgi/000100A/http/web.archive.org/web/20040613195203im_/http:/=2fstat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) whod81.) My local buddy folkyboy inherited two free tickets to the Boston Gay Men's Chorus performance of music by Elton John and Freddie Mercury. It was so fantastic and wonderful, even if we were in the very last row of the balcony and it was so steep that we were afraid to stand up! The BGMC is outstanding and the energy was so great, especially because it's Pride weekend and all of that. THANKS, FOLKY! Side note for calledmara and prettyvacantone: I wanted you both to know that it is not just the Columbus Women's Chorus who inserts the element of Cheese into informal chorus concerts. There were /several/ dancing numbers tonight, including costume changes, /and/ there was clapping and drumming. (Although I doubt they did "women's rituals" during practice, and I wonder if they give each other back rubs.) Anyway, it was really awesome. They performed "Hakuna Matata" and "The Circle of Life" from The Lion King, which kind of surprised me (though it shouldn't have, because HELLO, it's a musical!), and some songs from Aida, and lots of good 70s pop. There was even a little parade of different Elton costumes that was fabulous. The only thing that wasn't fabulous was the group of tipsy people in front of me that were obnoxious. Aah well - if I was more of my father's daughter I would have bopped them on the head with my program! And Folky and I gabbed and gabbed about musicals and folk music and were also very catty toward other people in the audience and on the street. It's so hysterical talking to him about music (err, folk music of course) because he knows absolutely everything and owns every single CD. It is so crazy! He's always like, "Well do you know [blahblah] by [blah]? It is on [blah] CD and I own it and I love it and I have the t-shirt!" It is TEH AWESOME. I need to start volunteering somewhere so I can feel like a part of the community again. I also need to work harder on locating lots of free stuff, because there is definitely free stuff to be found all of the time. Must take advantage! Also, I think I want to spend some time getting in touch with my girly side. It's kind of fun, actually, to have, you know, boobs. Sometimes. (Though I still have no clue what I should wear to my smurfbrother's wedding thinger. Suggestions?)
Moodtrack: happy
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This has been an emotional end to an emotional week. At least, I hope it's the end. Of the emotions, not the week; the week can progress to Saturday as planned, Saturday being Pride and all, and the forecast is for 70s and sunny. Perfect. No, it's the emo brokenness with which I've lived this week that can stop at any time, though now would be best, I'd say. For everyone. On the side of TEH GOOD, I got to meet folkyboy last night. He offered to save me from my boredom with a quick jaunt to Reveah Beach, which was educational if nothing else. The temperature on the shore was easily ten degrees cooler than my apartment, and there was a nice briny breeze (when you weren't catching wafts of pot smoke). We dipped our toes in the frigid Atlantic and he graciously answered a billion personal questions, as is my usual. I took his photo on the sand in the dark, but I can't find my camera upload cable right now, so he'll have to suffer. HA! Also on this side of yay, Jennifer and I spent the evening sharing a lovely grilled dinner with Ms. Shani and her Matty Jean, and also Ms. Dory. Dinner was delicious without being too heavy, and I got to eat a lot of grilled peppers, because I am apparently the only person in Somerville who eats such things. Yum. Peppers aside, the food was good and the company was delicious. Thanks! ( Smattered emotional blatherings here. Ignoring is probably much more exciting. )So I've been quite melodramatic, quite hermit-like, and downright blues-y for a couple of days. Which really sucks. Because there are so many good things here, so many possibilities and opportunities, so much to do and see, so many old friends and family members, such /potential/ and I feel like I'm squandering it away with my emo-ness. And then I feel like I'm putting too much pressure on myself to jump right into things, so I beat myself up for /that/. Basically, I'm a grumpy mess. But Friday night is the Dyke March, and Saturday is Pride, and Sunday I think I'm going to get to play with lorac if that's still on. And maybe in between I can put My Best Girl in the car and drive her to Wollaston so she can play in the ocean, because damn it, we fell in love by the ocean on the Cape and I want to fall in love again.
Moodtrack:  distressed
Soundtrack: But I look up and I don't see a cloud.
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I went to my interview this morning with The Home For Little Wanderers. The woman who interviewed me was a very hard read; she was quiet and somewhat passive, and displayed little emotion. She asked me questions that I flubbed answers to, questions about what sort of philosophical background controlled the OSU School of Social Work. I didn't really know how to explain to her that there was no one underlying theoretical method at OSU, but that there were some faculty members who were into existential therapy and others that were into solution-focused brief therapy, and the school itself tended toward a generalist practice. She wanted authors: what authors we'd read, whose work we mimicked. Once again I flubbed that our program wasn't geared that way. She did not seem impressed. I gave her some of my experiences working with preschool children at the behavior clinic I interned at in 2001-2002. She seemed receptive to these experiences but I didn't feel like I was convincing her that I was qualified. After all, that internship was the most clinical position I've ever had, and that was 2 years ago and unpaid. All of my professional work has been significantly less clinical. I think I may even be less qualified that some new graduates, especially from around here since apparently the schools have strong theoretical backgrounds, mostly psychodynamic. How can I explain the beauty that was Jim Lantz, preacher of existential methods and one of the greatest men I've ever met? How can I compare Victor Frankl to what this woman had in mind? So frustrating. At the end of the interview, she let me know that the starting salary for this position is $30,888/year. I almost threw up in my chair. Back in the car after a firm (but noncommittal) handshake, I had a veritable anxiety attack at the prospect of never being able to pay my bills and a lifetime of eating store-brand box macaroni and cheese. And never doing anything fun that costs money again. Of course, all clouds have silver linings, and this cloud's came in the form of two recent emails for phone interviews - one on Friday and one early next week. The phone interview on Friday is for a position in a school here in Dot that pays significantly more and has four weeks paid vacation (it's part of a program run by Harvard). The phone interview on Tuesday is for an outreach position with homeless women that sounds dirty and exciting. Here's hoping!
Moodtrack:  hopeful
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So Cable has been in my home for 3.5 days and already I can feel the brains in the household being sucked into that cathode ray tube. Yes, even the cats - their slotted eyes are glazing over with digital bits of mindnumbing media. Soon they will be flipping channels and hiding the remote control from each other. It's no secret that I am resistent to the evils of Cable Television. I have never paid for cable. In fact, I have had cable three times in my life: in my childhood home, in the college dorm room that I shared with Jodie, and in my first apartment alone with A. The common denominator in this equation is that each time, I lived with someone who set up, purchased, or in other ways arranged for said cable television. When I lived alone in the dorm I distinctly did not bring a coaxial cable with me. Oh, the power! Due to the appeal of the "cable/internet discount package" and the promise of "free installation," I have allowed Basic Digital Cable into my home for three months at the reasonable price of $18/month. No big deal, right? It's a money-saver after all. But I am already going bonkers. I suppose I am going to be one of those dreaded parents who only allows PBS and limits screen time. In the past three days, Jennifer has flipped channels and studied the digital channel guide so much that I am going cable crazy. Yes, I have watched a few programs, and have lost brain cells to shows like "E! True Hollywood Story: American Idol." I am ashamed, nearly enough to feel the need to embroider a scarlet C on my shirts and sweaters. There is Cable Television in my home and I think I am breaking out into hives. Save me!
Moodtrack: plugged in
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On the plus side, though, I have a job interview tomorrow at a really amazing organization that has a lot of financial stability. This is TEH GOOD. On top of that, it's a good career opportunity, and by that I mean, it's the sort of opportunity that most people get MSWs for. It's a very clinical position, involving play therapy and behavioral therapy for preschool children in the care setting, and parenting education out in the community. It provides LICSW supervision and is a job opportunity for MSW/LCSWs only, which means it's somewhat of a "status job" in that respect. This is different than in Ohio where BSWs and MSWs were often competing for the same case management jobs. This probably only makes sense to kyoki_tenchi and vorpalbla and serenity_coach7 but there you have it. The problem is that a straight-up clinical job isn't really the sort of job I /want/, even though it would be good for me. So I am trying to psych myself up for it hardcore. On top of being an excellent career opportunity with a lot of room for growth and education, there are also a couple of programs that I would love to work my way up and run once I get all of my LICSW supervision. Specifically a group home for queer youth. So I'm really going to try to sell myself tomorrow. Send me your best social work-y vibes! I promise to write something that isn't boring soon. No, really.
Moodtrack:  determined
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Wow, 9:30pm on a Saturday, and I purposefully did not seek out plans due to exhaustion and the overwhelming need to unpack the apartment. Today Shani Jean came over to help unpack, but ended up going with us on a wild goose chase to get a new TV stand. We went to the South Bay Target, which has the uncanny knack of never having what we want in stock. The other night it distinctly did not have the bathroom accessories we wanted. We saw a TV stand but did not buy it. Today, you guessed it, it was gone. Ha! So we got a different one that is lovely. I set up my computer today (hooray!) and put some office-y things away. Jen put the linens in the linen closet, and I think I will put away the DVDs, VHS tapes, and CDs before I go to bed. How exciting! I am still in love with this apartment, although it doesn't feel like ours yet. It feels like we're visiting or staying in a bed and breakfast or something. Maybe if I unpack my Mary-Kate and Ashley calendar (the Hilary Duff calendar has already been unpacked) it will seem more real. ;) It's weird to see all of the grocery brand names that I grew up with and was familiar with up until I moved to Ohio. It's kind of exciting, like I want to squeal, "Oooh, Garelick milk!" or some crap like that even though milk is milk is milk, especially when it's skim. But it's kind of funny. Boston welcomed me this afternoon in the form of an idiot guy in a Hyundai Sonata who backed directly into our car in a store parking lot. I saw him. I stopped. He didn't. Oops. There was no damage or anything though, all hail (rubber baby buggy) bumpers. I am also amazed at how easy it will be for me to become an assy driver again. I am already running red lights and cutting people off like a champ! Tomorrow Jeff and Melis are coming over to play the unpack game with us and then we're going to see Harry Potter! Wahoo! This message brought to you by the letters I, AM, LAME.
Moodtrack:  productive
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Jude-
I want you to know I am really going to miss you. When I say miss you, I mean REALLY miss you. Not in a Kim Ryan sort of psycho-stalker way, but I really feel like a lot of "flava" is going to be gone.
Just wanted you to know that I am really happy for you and JEN, and I hope you girlies do well. I feel like I have been grumpy lately, and that is only because I am delaying in my mind what is to soon happen.
I will miss riding in my car, endless trips to Chipotle and Starbucks, and doing the "mittle kitty" dance. The term "What up, dogg?" will have to be retired. No more will Marc call from his cell and say "I saw the girls at Gay Clips" or drive by you on the street and point and whisper "Ooooh....lesbians!" Because you know he will miss you, too. How fun will be Zeno's be, if I can't lay on your steps and call you in a drunken stupor????
Oh, well.....just know that I will miss you.
Sarah
PS- Mittle Kitty will be so sad. Baxter, too.
Moodtrack:  touched
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Jump Back! 
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