There's a book for everyone. People who haven't found the joy of being lost in a book are seriously depriving themselves of a full life. No matter what your interests are you can stop into the local bookstore and most likely you'll be able to find a book for yourself.
I would like to share a story with all of you. The other week I was beginning to read a new book. It was an intensely good book. Soon I found myself completely and utterly taken over by the words on the page. I read and read until my eyes hurt and couldn't make out the words on the page anymore. I looked up at my clock. I knew it was late but what I saw was unbelievable. My clock read five thirty am!!! I had read the entire night. I looked out my window and I could already see the first rays of the sun showing over the trees. Not only had I read all night, but I had nearly finish the book I had been reading.
The whole experience scared me a little. I had absolutely no perception of the time ticking a away, and I don't really remember anything else but the pages turning. I wish everyone could have that same experience. I said that it scarred me, but really I was immensely satisfied with myself.
To all my fellow readers out there: Rock on!!!! And to all those who wouldn't be caught dead with a book (why would you be reading this blog), but seriously find a book and lose yourself in it. That's all for now. Rog out! ;)
Saturday, January 31, 2009
War
My view on war was always that it was people I didn't know killing more people I didn't know. I believe that war is a cruel necessity of humanity. It's very unfortunate that we are what we are, but at our base we're all animals fighting to survive. That's getting off the subject though. The reason I believe that war is inevitable is that overpopulation causes a very old human survival instinct to kick in. Think about it. We've expanded to the point that there aren't anymore places to settle on the earth. But wait you might be saying to yourself, people back in ancient times warred among themselves, and they hadn't settled everywhere. Yes they did, because they felt claustrophobic, and the world that they knew had been settled to the brim. The wars were all over gaining territory so that the masses could expand, and the ones who died in the war just made for more breathing room.
When we go to war there is always some noble excuse behind it to make us all feel better. No one wants to believe that their son, daughter, siblings, or grandchildren are going to die just so they can live more comfortably.
As a modern society, we shun our animal side and we also disguise all of the animal things we do with pretty words and sugar. And I think that this sad fact will lead to our eventual, but not completely inevitable downfall. If we do not, as a whole accept and embrace who we truly are, we're all doomed to be wiped from the face of the earth.
When we go to war there is always some noble excuse behind it to make us all feel better. No one wants to believe that their son, daughter, siblings, or grandchildren are going to die just so they can live more comfortably.
As a modern society, we shun our animal side and we also disguise all of the animal things we do with pretty words and sugar. And I think that this sad fact will lead to our eventual, but not completely inevitable downfall. If we do not, as a whole accept and embrace who we truly are, we're all doomed to be wiped from the face of the earth.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Family Ties
I never really considered myself very family oriented. I always heard people talking about being a family man/ woman, but quite frankly family was always more of an object to me. They were always there. It's sort of like when you drive somewhere everyday for a couple of years, taking the same route every time until you're so familiar with all the things on the way you could drive it blindfolded.
I love my family, it's just when they're always there they fade into familiarity. Until recently I had what you might call an eye opening. My family and I were driving home from somewhere, when my brother told a joke that made us all burst into thunderous laughter. As I was trying to not pee my pants I realised that my family wasn't just my family, they had, somewhere along the way, become my friends. It was a weird revelation, because I never thought that my parents, whose job it was to reprimand me when I did something wrong, or to teach me the lessons I needed to know in order to succeed, could ever be my friends.
At the same time it was nice to realise that, the reason that we were friends was because they were starting to see us as adults and not just the kids they were meant to raise. Our time in the nest was up so to speak.
My immediate family was no exception either. When I visited my grandparents and cousins one week, I had a fairly long, substantial conversation with my grandpa, who, if I was being honest, always kind of intimidated me. My cousins, who are no older than ten, had become the focus of nurture within my family, and I realised that I was also expected to help shape these two children into adults. My actions were of less focus to everyone, because I was now supposed to be another responsible adult.
Even as I realised the joy of being considered an adult by other adults, I never thought that I would miss being a kid. No more peaceful ignorance of family issues. No more could I coast off of the "hand that fed me." But all that was overshadowed by the fact that I get to shape these two precious children into the adults I think they can become
I love my family, it's just when they're always there they fade into familiarity. Until recently I had what you might call an eye opening. My family and I were driving home from somewhere, when my brother told a joke that made us all burst into thunderous laughter. As I was trying to not pee my pants I realised that my family wasn't just my family, they had, somewhere along the way, become my friends. It was a weird revelation, because I never thought that my parents, whose job it was to reprimand me when I did something wrong, or to teach me the lessons I needed to know in order to succeed, could ever be my friends.
At the same time it was nice to realise that, the reason that we were friends was because they were starting to see us as adults and not just the kids they were meant to raise. Our time in the nest was up so to speak.
My immediate family was no exception either. When I visited my grandparents and cousins one week, I had a fairly long, substantial conversation with my grandpa, who, if I was being honest, always kind of intimidated me. My cousins, who are no older than ten, had become the focus of nurture within my family, and I realised that I was also expected to help shape these two children into adults. My actions were of less focus to everyone, because I was now supposed to be another responsible adult.
Even as I realised the joy of being considered an adult by other adults, I never thought that I would miss being a kid. No more peaceful ignorance of family issues. No more could I coast off of the "hand that fed me." But all that was overshadowed by the fact that I get to shape these two precious children into the adults I think they can become
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Response to "Dreams"
This post is a response to another blogger's post. Check out his sight http://iowagonzo.blogspot.com/
I have a recurring dream. Every time I sleep out in the living room of my house this dream shows it's ugly face. First in the dream I start out on a ship. My brother is always with me on the ship. We crash into a rocky shore of a hilly island. We walk through the foggy woods for hours and just when my brother stats to complain that it's taking too long for the pancakes to be done (no I'm not making this up), we come upon a house. We run up to the house and knock on the door. As we wait for the people who live there to come to the door, water starts converging on us from the way we came. We panic and take off running down a country lane with corn fields on either side. The water gets higher and higher, and soon, I never know how it happens but the water is over my head. I can see my brother still floating on the surface looking for me. I swim to the top, but every time I'm about to surface the water level rises a foot or two. A couple of times I suck in water. I start to desperately need air. I swim to no avail. As I just am about to take a full breath of water my eyes shoot open and I gasp for air. I learned from my mom who watched me have one of these dreams that I'm really holding my breath. On one occasion when I woke up and threw up all over the floor.
Have you ever heard that if you die in your dream you really die? Well I've never died in one of my dreams. I always wake up before the fatal end. And since that time I threw up after waking up I haven't slept in the living room. Have you ever died in one of your dreams? Do you think that you could actually die from a dream? I'm curious to see what you think.
I have a recurring dream. Every time I sleep out in the living room of my house this dream shows it's ugly face. First in the dream I start out on a ship. My brother is always with me on the ship. We crash into a rocky shore of a hilly island. We walk through the foggy woods for hours and just when my brother stats to complain that it's taking too long for the pancakes to be done (no I'm not making this up), we come upon a house. We run up to the house and knock on the door. As we wait for the people who live there to come to the door, water starts converging on us from the way we came. We panic and take off running down a country lane with corn fields on either side. The water gets higher and higher, and soon, I never know how it happens but the water is over my head. I can see my brother still floating on the surface looking for me. I swim to the top, but every time I'm about to surface the water level rises a foot or two. A couple of times I suck in water. I start to desperately need air. I swim to no avail. As I just am about to take a full breath of water my eyes shoot open and I gasp for air. I learned from my mom who watched me have one of these dreams that I'm really holding my breath. On one occasion when I woke up and threw up all over the floor.
Have you ever heard that if you die in your dream you really die? Well I've never died in one of my dreams. I always wake up before the fatal end. And since that time I threw up after waking up I haven't slept in the living room. Have you ever died in one of your dreams? Do you think that you could actually die from a dream? I'm curious to see what you think.
My View on Euthanasia
Until recently my family owned a horse by the name of Yukon. He had white fur and was pretty chunky for a horse, but he was content. He might have been a little lonely at times, but he had a donkey as a neighbor, and the two of them would converse from across the street. My dad always liked to say that our neighbor is an ass.
Well anyways not too long ago we started to have a few problems with Yukon. His condition over the past year and a half had slowly worsened. He started getting sores all over his body, and he had difficulty standing up after he had lain down. In the end of his life he couldn't stand at all. It's a sad state for such a noble animal to be reduced to, and yet here he was.
My mom called the vet to see if he could fix the situation. I knew that the horse wasn't going to live through the night, but being so attached to something can sometimes cloud your sense of reason. I opposed calling the vet, for two reasons. One, I don't really trust them, they take your money for the most mundane things and it makes me sick. Two, I think the idea of letting a stranger kill one of your animals is cruelty in it's most basic form. Think about it, by not doing the "job" yourself, you're admitting to yourself that the animals life had been worthless and that it isn't worth you getting your hands dirty over. In my opinion it is the right thing to, one not let an animal in suffering go on suffering, and two, to look that animal in the eye with confidence, and sadness and show it that it's life had been worth living, before you end it's life. And I'm sure the vet did not do the second one, that costs extra.
Some would say that it's a sign of ruthlessness to kill an animal, that if one belongs to our higher society they should not participate in the act. But it seems to me that in our attempt to become a more noble or "high" society we have severely failed.
It turned out I was right. Yukon was put down while I was at show choir practise. It cost my mom $150 to have him killed, and another $500 to have his remains disposed of. Highway robbery is what it is. He was missed and even though I told my mom I didn't want to say goodbye, at two o'clock, when everyone was a sleep I snuck down and payed my respects to the poor animal, whose life, in my mom's opinion, had not meant anything.
Well anyways not too long ago we started to have a few problems with Yukon. His condition over the past year and a half had slowly worsened. He started getting sores all over his body, and he had difficulty standing up after he had lain down. In the end of his life he couldn't stand at all. It's a sad state for such a noble animal to be reduced to, and yet here he was.
My mom called the vet to see if he could fix the situation. I knew that the horse wasn't going to live through the night, but being so attached to something can sometimes cloud your sense of reason. I opposed calling the vet, for two reasons. One, I don't really trust them, they take your money for the most mundane things and it makes me sick. Two, I think the idea of letting a stranger kill one of your animals is cruelty in it's most basic form. Think about it, by not doing the "job" yourself, you're admitting to yourself that the animals life had been worthless and that it isn't worth you getting your hands dirty over. In my opinion it is the right thing to, one not let an animal in suffering go on suffering, and two, to look that animal in the eye with confidence, and sadness and show it that it's life had been worth living, before you end it's life. And I'm sure the vet did not do the second one, that costs extra.
Some would say that it's a sign of ruthlessness to kill an animal, that if one belongs to our higher society they should not participate in the act. But it seems to me that in our attempt to become a more noble or "high" society we have severely failed.
It turned out I was right. Yukon was put down while I was at show choir practise. It cost my mom $150 to have him killed, and another $500 to have his remains disposed of. Highway robbery is what it is. He was missed and even though I told my mom I didn't want to say goodbye, at two o'clock, when everyone was a sleep I snuck down and payed my respects to the poor animal, whose life, in my mom's opinion, had not meant anything.
Grand Champions!
Yesterday we had another show choir competition. The day started in the usual way, if not a little later than usual. I woke up and cruised my way to school ready for another exciting day of show choir. When I got to school it wasn't long I had to wait before the bus was loaded and we headed off to the competition.
When we arrived at the school we had missed the entry level show choir (which had been expected). But we all feigned disappointment at having missed them, and congratulated them (genuinely).
All of the late comers went to the cafeteria to fill their grumbling bellies. The breakfast pizza was delicious, and once everyone was content it was time to watch some show choir!
the show choirs were really good. And soon, even though I was competing against them, I had picked out my favorite group. People were getting worried that the acoustics of the auditorium were really bad. Personally I thought they were all high on crack. But then again I've never had an ear for that kind of thing.
When it was our time to go, everyone was ready. We basically knew that we were going to make finals, but our director told us that we shouldn't perform to win something. We should do our show for the sole purpose of entertainment.
The show was great and we got the first spot coming out of the day awards. But that didn't matter because it was an all new judging panel.
Just before our finals performance, we got everyone together and talked about how we didn't want to be the group that had the reputation of being good in the day round and sucking at finals.
Our show went off without a hitch, I messed up once (I would have blamed myself had we lost). But we didn't lose. It was so amazing. When they called our name we screamed, and screamed, and screamed until our throats were hoarse. It was so awesome. It was the perfect ending to everyones day.
It's not even that we won that mattered. We all had fun and agree that if we would have come in second we still would've remembered the competition as one of our favorites.
When we arrived at the school we had missed the entry level show choir (which had been expected). But we all feigned disappointment at having missed them, and congratulated them (genuinely).
All of the late comers went to the cafeteria to fill their grumbling bellies. The breakfast pizza was delicious, and once everyone was content it was time to watch some show choir!
the show choirs were really good. And soon, even though I was competing against them, I had picked out my favorite group. People were getting worried that the acoustics of the auditorium were really bad. Personally I thought they were all high on crack. But then again I've never had an ear for that kind of thing.
When it was our time to go, everyone was ready. We basically knew that we were going to make finals, but our director told us that we shouldn't perform to win something. We should do our show for the sole purpose of entertainment.
The show was great and we got the first spot coming out of the day awards. But that didn't matter because it was an all new judging panel.
Just before our finals performance, we got everyone together and talked about how we didn't want to be the group that had the reputation of being good in the day round and sucking at finals.
Our show went off without a hitch, I messed up once (I would have blamed myself had we lost). But we didn't lose. It was so amazing. When they called our name we screamed, and screamed, and screamed until our throats were hoarse. It was so awesome. It was the perfect ending to everyones day.
It's not even that we won that mattered. We all had fun and agree that if we would have come in second we still would've remembered the competition as one of our favorites.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Science of Today
Isn't it amazing what we can do now days? There is a museum in Chicago that takes bodies that have been donated to science and rejected for some vague reason and turn them into this. They do it by injecting some kind of liquid plastic into the veins and letting it harden. They then remove all of the tissue that wasn't preserved. In the picture on the left you see a guy who just kicked a soccer ball. They have a huge range of displays. The ones here are just a few, they have pregnant mothers with fetuses at different stages of development, there are ones with different diseases that have an effect on physical appearance. I'm just dumbstruck by the thought of having these things on display. If you think this looks cool you should definitely check into it, and link to this post. Also if you ever get the opportunity to go to one of these museums, GO! Once I had the choice to go to the one in Chicago bu I decided against it, and I regret that decision to this day.
Life Lesson #1
Have you ever been sitting somewhere quite and just let your mind wonder through the plains of consciousness with no bounds? I recently had the opportunity to do just that. Laying in my bed I was wondering over various philosophical topics and I landed on one that got my attention.
I realised that my dad had lived almost three of my lives in his one life. I couldn't even begin to wrap my head around this fact. How long my life has seemed up until now. I tried to imagine what it would be like if I was triple my age, and for the life of me I couldn't do it. What a horribly fascinating thing to think about. My train of thought was inevitably drawn to the memories of my impatience. How idiotic I must have seemed waiting in line for the movie theater for ten minutes, getting angry because I had to wait. I felt like such an ass for being so naive. I remember my dad trying to teach me this exact lesson and having it go in one ear and right out the other.
When I approached my dad to tell him about my revelation he seemed proud that I had gotten that lesson at such a young age. He told me that he wished he would have realised that at my age. I'm not going to say that I'll never get impatient again, because saying that would just be stupid. But maybe when I'm waiting in that line, or doing something I don't want to do I'll have the ability to step back and look at the situation in this new way.
Hey this isn't so bad, it's just ten minutes out of my life. It's just a drop in the bucket. After this I'll be doing something that I actually want to. And those are the ones to enjoy and remember.
To all the young 'uns, I'm right there with ya. Part of the instant gratification generation. Please though, take this lesson to heart.
I realised that my dad had lived almost three of my lives in his one life. I couldn't even begin to wrap my head around this fact. How long my life has seemed up until now. I tried to imagine what it would be like if I was triple my age, and for the life of me I couldn't do it. What a horribly fascinating thing to think about. My train of thought was inevitably drawn to the memories of my impatience. How idiotic I must have seemed waiting in line for the movie theater for ten minutes, getting angry because I had to wait. I felt like such an ass for being so naive. I remember my dad trying to teach me this exact lesson and having it go in one ear and right out the other.
When I approached my dad to tell him about my revelation he seemed proud that I had gotten that lesson at such a young age. He told me that he wished he would have realised that at my age. I'm not going to say that I'll never get impatient again, because saying that would just be stupid. But maybe when I'm waiting in that line, or doing something I don't want to do I'll have the ability to step back and look at the situation in this new way.
Hey this isn't so bad, it's just ten minutes out of my life. It's just a drop in the bucket. After this I'll be doing something that I actually want to. And those are the ones to enjoy and remember.
To all the young 'uns, I'm right there with ya. Part of the instant gratification generation. Please though, take this lesson to heart.
itouch
I recently helped China in advancing their plot to take over of the U.S. I purchased an itouch. The first thing I noticed about the box that it was in was that stamped on the back there was a tiny China in bold letters. But that's not the point. The point is, it's AMAZING! I never thought I could fall in love with an inanimate object, but I find myself guilty as charged.
Forget that it took almost three hours to sync all of my songs from my computer on to the ipod. There are so many amazing features. As soon as I was on itunes I went to the app store to browse the games they had. Much to my surprise there were a ton of free ones! Who doesn't love free games. Soon everything is going to be free anyway because we'll all owe China enormous debts, and they'll collect by controlling our lives. But not to fear, if you want to join the underground revolution army or URA then just find a way to contact us I can't help you much there. But I digress.
Anyways the thing is so addicting. I can't keep my hands off of it no matter how hard I try. That is to be expected though. I'm sure with time the feeling of newness will be replaced by comfortably. So that's my random tangent. Hope you enjoyed.
Forget that it took almost three hours to sync all of my songs from my computer on to the ipod. There are so many amazing features. As soon as I was on itunes I went to the app store to browse the games they had. Much to my surprise there were a ton of free ones! Who doesn't love free games. Soon everything is going to be free anyway because we'll all owe China enormous debts, and they'll collect by controlling our lives. But not to fear, if you want to join the underground revolution army or URA then just find a way to contact us I can't help you much there. But I digress.
Anyways the thing is so addicting. I can't keep my hands off of it no matter how hard I try. That is to be expected though. I'm sure with time the feeling of newness will be replaced by comfortably. So that's my random tangent. Hope you enjoyed.
The Show!
We left the vocal warm up with gleaming smiles on our faces. All of us were nervous as hell, but with each step the nervousness was replaced with unimaginable excitement. The walk to the waiting area was an intense blur of clapping and people wishing good luck, we got a few dirty look from the groups that wanted us to suck.
We got to the pre-show-run-through-room and the excitement was oozing out of us. Whispers went up and down the line to quite down and listen to the pep talk that was to be given. Standing in a circle we were wished good luck by the instructor, and told to do our show. That nothing else mattered anymore. The only thing left to do was go out and DO OUR SHOW! We broke it down and took our places to carry on our designated items. When we took the stage I was swept by an eiree calm I knew what I had to do and so help me God, I was going to kick ass.
When I hit the final pose, I had nothing left to give. I had spent all of my energy and the show had been amazing. We left the stage feeling awesome, but now we just had to make finals.
The time until the announcement of day awards was a lot, so we just had time to change and then we had to go.
At the before-award party, an intense air of waiting for the results. That, however, didn't stop people from dancing on the floor to the up-beat music they had blaring on the loud speakers.
When the MC, after making us wait for at least a half an hour, finally showed up everyone was on the edge of their seat, hanging on his every syllable. He was very elusive when it came to announcing the names of the the finalists. We wouldn't know who won until our instructors told us who won later.
He started announcing the names of the finalists in alphabetical order. Everyone in the group silently recited the alphabet to themselves to make sure that we were not being skipped over. When we heard our name called it was ecstasy. We jumped around and cheered as loud as we could.
Later, in the room we found out that that we had gotten first in the day round scores!
Finals were amazing. We did even better then we had done in the day round, but alas it wasn't enough. we ended up getting second, losing by only three point! Everyone was super happy with how we did, and our stomachs were already churning in anticipation for the next weeks contest!
We got to the pre-show-run-through-room and the excitement was oozing out of us. Whispers went up and down the line to quite down and listen to the pep talk that was to be given. Standing in a circle we were wished good luck by the instructor, and told to do our show. That nothing else mattered anymore. The only thing left to do was go out and DO OUR SHOW! We broke it down and took our places to carry on our designated items. When we took the stage I was swept by an eiree calm I knew what I had to do and so help me God, I was going to kick ass.
When I hit the final pose, I had nothing left to give. I had spent all of my energy and the show had been amazing. We left the stage feeling awesome, but now we just had to make finals.
The time until the announcement of day awards was a lot, so we just had time to change and then we had to go.
At the before-award party, an intense air of waiting for the results. That, however, didn't stop people from dancing on the floor to the up-beat music they had blaring on the loud speakers.
When the MC, after making us wait for at least a half an hour, finally showed up everyone was on the edge of their seat, hanging on his every syllable. He was very elusive when it came to announcing the names of the the finalists. We wouldn't know who won until our instructors told us who won later.
He started announcing the names of the finalists in alphabetical order. Everyone in the group silently recited the alphabet to themselves to make sure that we were not being skipped over. When we heard our name called it was ecstasy. We jumped around and cheered as loud as we could.
Later, in the room we found out that that we had gotten first in the day round scores!
Finals were amazing. We did even better then we had done in the day round, but alas it wasn't enough. we ended up getting second, losing by only three point! Everyone was super happy with how we did, and our stomachs were already churning in anticipation for the next weeks contest!
First Show Choir Contest
Last weekend was my show choir's first contest of the season. I'm just writing about it now because I haven't had free time since then.
The day started out at 7:15 when I woke up before my alarm went off. I was so excited I rushed to get ready so I could leave. In my hurry I almost forgot my brother who was just waking up. I was forced to wait impatiently while he got ready to leave. It was a short drive there, and it was fairly easy to find a parking space right away.
When we got inside you could tell it was going to be a busy day. There was a line at the check in table with at least twenty people in it, and it was even the main door. Feeling a little guilty I by-passed the crowd and went straight to the desk, because it was separate check in for members of the show choirs.
My brother, who is in the lower level show choir (they had performed the day before and got grand champion), and I found the homeroom for the day. This room would serve as a meeting place, a place to keep your things safe, and also a hangout.
Our time in the homeroom was short, he found people he knew and went to the auditorium to watch the freshman show choir of our school. I found some of my friends and we went to the cafeteria for a quick snack before watching the show.
The auditorium was fairly packed, and we were all excited for it to start. Twenty minutes the MC came out and announced the start of the contest. He introduced the choir and they took the stage to perform. They were pretty good, after they were done were cheered wholeheartedly, but not too much, because we had to conserve our voices for our show later that day.
I watched seven shows before I finally decided to leave and check out the rest of the school. I went to the room to see if anyone was there and found out that they were all in the cafeteria. I found them sitting at a table enjoying some breakfast and I sat down having already eaten.
The rest of the day went pretty fast, and as our show approached I started to get really nervous. I had watched several good show choirs that day and I felt horribly unprepared for what was coming. The time came to get dressed, and we departed the room with smiles on our faces sreching from ear to ear.
I'm going to put the rest in another post because I really want to focus on all of the details and everything that makes it fun.
The day started out at 7:15 when I woke up before my alarm went off. I was so excited I rushed to get ready so I could leave. In my hurry I almost forgot my brother who was just waking up. I was forced to wait impatiently while he got ready to leave. It was a short drive there, and it was fairly easy to find a parking space right away.
When we got inside you could tell it was going to be a busy day. There was a line at the check in table with at least twenty people in it, and it was even the main door. Feeling a little guilty I by-passed the crowd and went straight to the desk, because it was separate check in for members of the show choirs.
My brother, who is in the lower level show choir (they had performed the day before and got grand champion), and I found the homeroom for the day. This room would serve as a meeting place, a place to keep your things safe, and also a hangout.
Our time in the homeroom was short, he found people he knew and went to the auditorium to watch the freshman show choir of our school. I found some of my friends and we went to the cafeteria for a quick snack before watching the show.
The auditorium was fairly packed, and we were all excited for it to start. Twenty minutes the MC came out and announced the start of the contest. He introduced the choir and they took the stage to perform. They were pretty good, after they were done were cheered wholeheartedly, but not too much, because we had to conserve our voices for our show later that day.
I watched seven shows before I finally decided to leave and check out the rest of the school. I went to the room to see if anyone was there and found out that they were all in the cafeteria. I found them sitting at a table enjoying some breakfast and I sat down having already eaten.
The rest of the day went pretty fast, and as our show approached I started to get really nervous. I had watched several good show choirs that day and I felt horribly unprepared for what was coming. The time came to get dressed, and we departed the room with smiles on our faces sreching from ear to ear.
I'm going to put the rest in another post because I really want to focus on all of the details and everything that makes it fun.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Workin' Man
We recently in my AP Language class had to write a story about an unfamiliar place. This is the idea that I decided not to write about. I think it might turn out a little flat because I’m not putting it through the extensive revisions that I would a normal essay, so read at your own discression.
I recently got a job at a local restaurant. I love to go there and I get the same thing to eat every time I go there. It wasn’t my first choice in jobs; actually I should say it was almost dead last, right in front of garbage collector. But I had been having terrible luck finding anyone who would hire me so I decided to try it out.
The first thing I noticed after getting out of my car in the parking lot was the smell. If I could only describe the wonderful mixture of pleasant aromas as the chefs were preparing the supper menu. I was immensely reassured that this would not be such a bad place to work, a thought that was reassured more by the warm greeting I received from the hostess. “What can do for you today?” she asked with a smile on her face stretching ear to ear.
“Umm…,” I said tentatively, “I came to fill out an application.”
“Excellent,” she said, “we are looking for busers. Is that what you were thinking of doing?”
I responded that I didn’t really know what I wanted to do and her face softened. “Granite City is an excellent place to get your first job. I should know.
She handed me two packets and explained that one was a standard application, which I told her I had become quite familiar with in the last two weeks. She smiled and told me the second one was a personality test, and that I could take a seat at the bar or in a booth to fill it out.
I walked over and took a seat at the bar. The cute blonde bartender walked over and asked if I wanted a pop. I told her that I didn’t. “You sure?” she asked, “Employees get free pop.” This grabbed my attention and I looked up from what I was doing surprised. She gave me a smile and a wink, and told me that they had Pepsi products. Seeing how it was the summer I asked her if she had lemonade.
“We have regular and raspberry, but might I suggest the raspberry.”
I told her that that sounded great. She went off to get my lemonade, and I started to fill out the application. It was the standard application. It asked for name, address, social security number, and all the other usual information.
Right as I was starting to do the personality test, the bartender brought my lemonade. “Wow you’re going fast,” she said, “it took me an hour to finish both my application and personality test.”
I laughed and told her that I had become somewhat of a pro from constantly filling out applications. “Tuff luck huh?” she asked, “Well don’t worry, you seem like a nice kid and we’re really desperate for help these days.”
Reassured even more by her comment I went back to the application. The questions were really random and sometimes I wondered why I had to do it. One of the questions asked if I would ever bring a weapon to work to settle a score with a co-worker. I thought that it must be a joke, and I started laughing. “You must have gotten to the one about the weapon,” remarked the bartender with a chuckle of her own, “the test is meant to weed out any obvious psychos right off so the managers don’t have to meet them face to face and tell them they don’t fit the bill.”
A little concerned that I might meet one such psycho compelled me to finish the test quickly and turn it in. Not wanting to be rude I sat and finished my lemonade before I walked up to turn in the test.
When I handed the hostess the application I thought I was done, but she informed me that I needed to meet with a general manager to set up a primary interview. She got on the phone and in a couple of minutes a cheery lady walked up picked up my application and said, “You must be Robert. It’s very nice to meet you.” I responded in an appropriate way and we sat down to talk about the job.
She told me that Granite City was a very good place to work. That they treat their employees with due respect, and really made it seem like the noblest job in the world. Then she ran through the basic duties that one does as a buser. All the drudge work she described to me seem somewhat more appealing when she put it the way she did, all buttered up and glorious like there was no better job in the world. At the conclusion she handed me a card with her name on it and on the back was the date of my next interview. Before I turned to leave I saw her slip another business card into her pocket, this one with nothing on the back. I rejoiced in the fact that I had succeeded in getting another interview.
The next Tuesday I walked into the restaurant ready to get a job. I told the hostess (a different one) why I was there and she directed me to sit while I waited for the manager who would interview me.
The interview was over quickly. The manager asked me some questions told me what would be expected of me, and then offered me the job. I was so excited to finally have gotten a job that I almost ran a red light on my way home.
The next day that same manager called me and told me that I had to come to an orientation before I could do my first training shift. So the nest Thursday I went to the restaurant, filled out the paperwork, and was told that my first training shift would be on that Saturday.
I was a little hesitant to walk in the door my first day. It was Saturday and my dad had told me that it would probably be pretty busy. The hostess at the door was the same one that I had seen the first day. Her reassuring smile slowly eased away my apprehension. “Welcome back,” she said, “I knew would get the job, a manager is in the back, and she’ll clock you in.”
I felt weird in my crisp new uniform, and I felt like I shouldn’t be there. On my way back to the kitchen a waitress bumped into me. “Sorry,” I said, even though it had clearly been her fault. She grumbled something that I didn’t hear and continued walking. Not a good first encounter with the staff.
As I stepped into the kitchen it was like I had stepped into another world completely. People were yelling and hurrying around completely oblivious of me but seeming to be in perfect sync with one another. I found a manager giving a server quick instructions before sending her on her way. She looked at me, smiled and said, “Come with me.” She told me what my number would be to clock in and who would be training me that night. She did all of this while walking backwards and amazingly staying out of peoples way.
We located the buser that would be training me, and after quick introductions it was time to work. We walked around the restaurant, he told me the table numbers, and showed me all of the things that I was required to do. As I followed him around I noticed how fluidly he moved among the crowd, not once getting in the way of one guest while I bumped into several in my attempt to follow. I was as out of my element as I had ever been before and believe me the feeling wasn’t pleasant.
Every one was a part of a well oiled, perfectly synchronized machine, and I was a loose bolt that had fallen in and was causing havoc to the operation of the machine. The kitchen was the worst. Every time I went back there with a dirty dish, it seemed like there were thousands of people, and I was expected to stay out of there way and still do my job at the same time.
This continued for the next hour or so and I found more and more that I was becoming part of the machine. No longer was I a hindrance, I was a contributing part of the system. Just as I thought I was really getting the hang of it a manager came over and told me that it was time for me to leave. I clocked out and I was walking to my car ready to go to bed, and when I woke up I’d be back to do it all again.
Looking back after writing this I wish I would have spent more time focusing on the actual working part of the essay, because that what I wanted it to be about. But in the end it ended up just being about the process of getting a job.
I recently got a job at a local restaurant. I love to go there and I get the same thing to eat every time I go there. It wasn’t my first choice in jobs; actually I should say it was almost dead last, right in front of garbage collector. But I had been having terrible luck finding anyone who would hire me so I decided to try it out.
The first thing I noticed after getting out of my car in the parking lot was the smell. If I could only describe the wonderful mixture of pleasant aromas as the chefs were preparing the supper menu. I was immensely reassured that this would not be such a bad place to work, a thought that was reassured more by the warm greeting I received from the hostess. “What can do for you today?” she asked with a smile on her face stretching ear to ear.
“Umm…,” I said tentatively, “I came to fill out an application.”
“Excellent,” she said, “we are looking for busers. Is that what you were thinking of doing?”
I responded that I didn’t really know what I wanted to do and her face softened. “Granite City is an excellent place to get your first job. I should know.
She handed me two packets and explained that one was a standard application, which I told her I had become quite familiar with in the last two weeks. She smiled and told me the second one was a personality test, and that I could take a seat at the bar or in a booth to fill it out.
I walked over and took a seat at the bar. The cute blonde bartender walked over and asked if I wanted a pop. I told her that I didn’t. “You sure?” she asked, “Employees get free pop.” This grabbed my attention and I looked up from what I was doing surprised. She gave me a smile and a wink, and told me that they had Pepsi products. Seeing how it was the summer I asked her if she had lemonade.
“We have regular and raspberry, but might I suggest the raspberry.”
I told her that that sounded great. She went off to get my lemonade, and I started to fill out the application. It was the standard application. It asked for name, address, social security number, and all the other usual information.
Right as I was starting to do the personality test, the bartender brought my lemonade. “Wow you’re going fast,” she said, “it took me an hour to finish both my application and personality test.”
I laughed and told her that I had become somewhat of a pro from constantly filling out applications. “Tuff luck huh?” she asked, “Well don’t worry, you seem like a nice kid and we’re really desperate for help these days.”
Reassured even more by her comment I went back to the application. The questions were really random and sometimes I wondered why I had to do it. One of the questions asked if I would ever bring a weapon to work to settle a score with a co-worker. I thought that it must be a joke, and I started laughing. “You must have gotten to the one about the weapon,” remarked the bartender with a chuckle of her own, “the test is meant to weed out any obvious psychos right off so the managers don’t have to meet them face to face and tell them they don’t fit the bill.”
A little concerned that I might meet one such psycho compelled me to finish the test quickly and turn it in. Not wanting to be rude I sat and finished my lemonade before I walked up to turn in the test.
When I handed the hostess the application I thought I was done, but she informed me that I needed to meet with a general manager to set up a primary interview. She got on the phone and in a couple of minutes a cheery lady walked up picked up my application and said, “You must be Robert. It’s very nice to meet you.” I responded in an appropriate way and we sat down to talk about the job.
She told me that Granite City was a very good place to work. That they treat their employees with due respect, and really made it seem like the noblest job in the world. Then she ran through the basic duties that one does as a buser. All the drudge work she described to me seem somewhat more appealing when she put it the way she did, all buttered up and glorious like there was no better job in the world. At the conclusion she handed me a card with her name on it and on the back was the date of my next interview. Before I turned to leave I saw her slip another business card into her pocket, this one with nothing on the back. I rejoiced in the fact that I had succeeded in getting another interview.
The next Tuesday I walked into the restaurant ready to get a job. I told the hostess (a different one) why I was there and she directed me to sit while I waited for the manager who would interview me.
The interview was over quickly. The manager asked me some questions told me what would be expected of me, and then offered me the job. I was so excited to finally have gotten a job that I almost ran a red light on my way home.
The next day that same manager called me and told me that I had to come to an orientation before I could do my first training shift. So the nest Thursday I went to the restaurant, filled out the paperwork, and was told that my first training shift would be on that Saturday.
I was a little hesitant to walk in the door my first day. It was Saturday and my dad had told me that it would probably be pretty busy. The hostess at the door was the same one that I had seen the first day. Her reassuring smile slowly eased away my apprehension. “Welcome back,” she said, “I knew would get the job, a manager is in the back, and she’ll clock you in.”
I felt weird in my crisp new uniform, and I felt like I shouldn’t be there. On my way back to the kitchen a waitress bumped into me. “Sorry,” I said, even though it had clearly been her fault. She grumbled something that I didn’t hear and continued walking. Not a good first encounter with the staff.
As I stepped into the kitchen it was like I had stepped into another world completely. People were yelling and hurrying around completely oblivious of me but seeming to be in perfect sync with one another. I found a manager giving a server quick instructions before sending her on her way. She looked at me, smiled and said, “Come with me.” She told me what my number would be to clock in and who would be training me that night. She did all of this while walking backwards and amazingly staying out of peoples way.
We located the buser that would be training me, and after quick introductions it was time to work. We walked around the restaurant, he told me the table numbers, and showed me all of the things that I was required to do. As I followed him around I noticed how fluidly he moved among the crowd, not once getting in the way of one guest while I bumped into several in my attempt to follow. I was as out of my element as I had ever been before and believe me the feeling wasn’t pleasant.
Every one was a part of a well oiled, perfectly synchronized machine, and I was a loose bolt that had fallen in and was causing havoc to the operation of the machine. The kitchen was the worst. Every time I went back there with a dirty dish, it seemed like there were thousands of people, and I was expected to stay out of there way and still do my job at the same time.
This continued for the next hour or so and I found more and more that I was becoming part of the machine. No longer was I a hindrance, I was a contributing part of the system. Just as I thought I was really getting the hang of it a manager came over and told me that it was time for me to leave. I clocked out and I was walking to my car ready to go to bed, and when I woke up I’d be back to do it all again.
Looking back after writing this I wish I would have spent more time focusing on the actual working part of the essay, because that what I wanted it to be about. But in the end it ended up just being about the process of getting a job.
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