28

That is the number in cents of my current raise. YES! Retail, I LOVE YOU.

Something that makes me feel better is that I'm on my way out of here. Not necessarily to the end of my retail days, but definitely the end of my days in Michigan and--for an undisclosed/er, undetermined amount of time--the States. The more I talk about AIESEC with people lately, the more pumped I become to really go forward and further develop myself--aka, ROCK OUT.

Not sure which form it will take. Obviously, hopes are in one way much more than another. Time will tell.


The other thing that's funny is just, you know, talking to people about the necessity to go ahead and TAKE life, versus waiting for it to happen to you. I got into an argument in Dublin about it--about jobs and time in the sense of having a job to fulfill your purposes, being anything other than a job that's furthering you to a bigger purpose in your life, or goals. This argument also lead me to getting a new Bitches, Bitches name, but we'll not go there today.

Then, at work, I was speaking to Courtney about the possibility of taking loans so that she could focus on school and not have to worry about working full time. To me, it's clear as day that it may be a few thousand dollars that may take a life time to pay back, but she's never done it before. It will mean a lot to her--so it's not as if she'll squander the moneys. And, furthermore, she's worth it. It's an investment--so, out of all things, why not invest in herself?

Honestly, yo. I should sell loans for a living.

Today--got the review from work. I ROCK. That's all I have to say. And speaking to people (at work) and the shit that goes down in a big corporation that hasn't really discovered its own identity (and let's not talk about their shoddy brandage--I could talk about that for quite a bit). It's funny to see what will happen to an entity that doesn't allow space for the development, for any sort of drive. And they wonder why they're beaten every year by another big name, soul-eating corporation that is slowly devouring any sort and sense of independent bookstores.

All I have to say is--if your company policies make your employees dread coming to work in what should be the coolest place to work on the face of the Earth, EVER, well, then perhaps you're doing something very, very wrong.


Lately, especially today, I feel like going out and climbing some trees. Or, you know, laying in the grass and reading poetry (current read: The Outlaw Bible of American Poetry edited by Alan Kaufman & S.A. Griffin). (Although, today, the loads of alternate storms of rain & sunshine kind of keep me from doing it, let alone the massive giantesque earth worms that are now crawling the earth...) There is something really hardcore about painfully selective word choices. And, well, it is often odd for me to read these poems written in the sixties that seem to speak more of the sexual politics of today more than ever. I read and I read, then I look at the bio and my heart sinks to the carpet when I read that the poet died even before I was born.

You [I] think: shit, I'm so young! so much to do....
Then I [you] wonder how I can live my life as clearly as these words are written every day. I imagine it will have a lot of laughing, naps, long walks on the beach, loud-impassioned slam poetry, movies, jacks & cokes, and rolls of sushi at the core of its success(es).




In other news, I think my eyeball hates me and I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow. Believe it or not. I figure, hey, when your eye is leaving not-so-subtle signs that it's upset, it's best to check that shit out. It's not like a kidney, or something. Um, well, I meant that in the sense that I don't have two--but I assure you I do have two eyes. So, I suppose I mean that, well, um, you know, seeing with two eyes, 3-D & all, is da bomb.




I admit: I couldn't get into Veronica by Mary Gaitskill. I promise, I'll try again. But, currently, the poetry and Margaret Atwood (The Handmaid's Tale) are rocking my socks too hard. Oh geez.