Strangely Socialised

Three book reviews on the way, two good, one enraging, but in the meantime I’ve had a short story accepted for publication so it’s good news chez Rrain.

OIC I’ve had an epic failure to update throughout the month of December. Well, allow me to catch you up:

Nothing happened.

Status quo chez Rrain. I have grand plans for 2010, though. Which I’m reluctant to talk about here because…what if I don’t do it? Then my failure will be here forever, staring me in the face. In abbreviated point form, then, with ambiguous meaning:

- write the thing
- dance
- produce income
- talk about books
- make music

Realistic goals, all. In some form or another.

I am about to apply for a job that I’m completely qualified for, and yet suspect I might be considered too old for. Which is kind of like a bucket of cold water in the face, you know? I still think of myself as a somewhat recent university graduate, but when I do the math I’ve had an awful lot of life experience since then. I look in the mirror and I don’t – quite – see what I’m expecting to see. In all objective senses I’m still young, but I’m not that twentysomething anymore and I sometimes I really miss her.

In brighter and less navel-gazing news, the girlfriend earned her PhD this week. And there was much rejoicing! Since I was sweet talked into copy editing for her, I’ve already read her thesis and I think it was amazing. Highly deserving of being awarded her degree.

My mother has been going around telling everyone that there’s a PhD in the family now, which I think is two parts enthusiasm and one part thinly-veiled hint. I once hoped that my brother’s enormous 300-person-plus wedding was enough to appease her, but I’m her only little girl so I guess that just doesn’t count.

Well, we’ll have to see.

Dear Rrain,

The mouse that scampers around your apartment is not your pet, it is a pest. Do not get attached. He is not your friend. And actually, he’s probably a rat, not a mouse. No, really.

If you’re at the point where you think you might cry if someone exterminates him, you probably need to get out more.

Think about it.

Love and kisses,
Rrain

I don’t seem to be very good at unemployment. I’m in a position to be able to actually enjoy my summer without worrying about working, and I still keep feeling like I should be doing something, anything, other than what I’m doing. It doesn’t even have to be work; I think I’d be content with something that consistently takes up my time. So I’ve decided to compile a list of possible summer unemployment activities:

* groupie
* fine art model
* burlesque dancer
* marathon runner
* vibrator salesperson
* twitter stalker

I think any one of these is absolutely within my grasp.

And now to more pressing matters: is four a.m. too late to eat a cheeseburger?

I’m good. No, actually, I’m really good. I’m not really used to being an optimist, but I refused to believe that things were going to go badly after Friday and they haven’t.

Being optimistic is really hard, though. I think I’ve just been fucked too many times to have that kind of faith in people and the universe. But I’m trying.

Yesterday (yesterday? the day before yesterday?) I was just wandering around the apartment, post-laundry, post-anything-productive, and I walked into a sunbeam and felt the immediate need to just go outside and take a walk.

It’s nice to be able to do that kind of thing.

It’s been sort of weird day for me. It was honestly just like any other day at work for a while, only I wouldn’t be coming back again. Ever. But then people started with their tearful goodbyes, and I got gifts from the department, got taken out for lunch… and the thing is, I think I always underestimate the impact I have on people. I think no one notices me, and then this happens, and it turns out I was there all along..

It’ll be strange, being gone from [ company name redacted ]. I was there for over four and a half years, which is by far the longest I’ve ever been in one job. I am one with my generation. I kept having absurd thoughts as I went around the building today: This is the last time I will walk this route. This is the last time I will do a deletion request. This is the last time I will write reports.

THIS IS THE LAST TIME I WILL BUY SMARTIES FROM THE VENDING MACHINE.

And then I totally got hammered at lunch and had to go back to work for the rest of the afternoon and have my coworkers ask me if I had a good time going out for “coffee”. And yes, they actually made the finger quotes.

I love company-endorsed drunkenness.

So, I’m done. And god, right this second? I’m so looking forward to my free summer.

Counting down the days to my imminent layoff is kind of depressing (2. TWO.) but it’s still a little exciting, too. I can do anything now. Theoretically. In reality I’ll probably spend the next two months unemployed and fucking around on the internet and then take the first job I’m qualified to do. But in theory, IN THEORY, I can spend the next couple of months getting my shit together and figuring out what I really want to do. Which you’d think I would’ve done by now, but… well, figuring your shit out isn’t an event, it’s a process.

When the highlight of my day was listening to a sketchy cellcast of a concert on the other side of the country, well, that probably is a little more revealing about the rest of my day than I’d like. But still, I got about a thousand words written, and while that’s well below average, it’s a lot more than nothing.

I’ll probably delete it tomorrow. But that’s okay.

The problem with multiple identities on the internet is that sometimes one gets a lot more attention than the others, and sometimes it’s a lot more fun to be somebody else than myself. >.> And that’s enough of that.

Ruth has been here since the 16th, for three weeks this time, and we’re definitely counting down the months now till she’s finally finished her education and we get more than these little bursts of time together. But seriously, who gets their PhD and then decides they need another year of education? The woman is mad, I tell you.

Also, I got into bed with her early last night and made her scream. Not in the good way. FML.

(Apparently right this second she’s watching Alex SkarsgÃ¥rd showering. On her netbook, just to be clear.)

T-minus 7 working days till I’m unemployed, and Toronto Pride was last weekend. These two things are completely unrelated, but they’re probably the most noteworthy events in my life right now. I mean, other than Ruth’s visit, obvs. I feel like right now I’m where I should’ve been when I finished university: unsure of what I actually want to do with the rest of my life; a little scared of being adrift but relieved, too, to be out of a job that was probably devouring my soul. It paid well, though, so there was that.

Okay, yeah, that part was pretty awesome.

Also, if anyone was looking for a sign of the end times, my mother (and her sisters) are blogging. I’m not sure I ever believed this day would come, even though we managed to get her on Facebook, even if the only people she’s friended are me, my brother, my girlfriend and my uncle. Hell, I think she uses it more than I do these days.

July 1, 2009 = the five-year anniversary of the day I packed everything I owned into a moving truck and drove across the country for two days between Winnipeg and Toronto. With about $4000 in the bank and no job and just hoping for the best. Despite my now-looming layoff, I still think it all worked out pretty well.

ETA: I stand corrected. My mother has 16 Facebook friends.

Things what I learned this weekend:

• Walking for two hours in a snowstorm is beautiful, but leaves you with sore thighs.
• People who aren’t living in an apartment with minimal heat are not motivated to fix it.
• Cookie dough dries out in the fridge. Lesson learned: eat it more quickly.
• Toronto is beautiful.
• Trust your family, even when you have doubts. They can surprise you sometimes, and it’s wonderful.
• People drink more coffee when it’s cold. Arrive early if you want a seat.
• I have not gone running in far too long. I have no one but myself to blame for this.
• I need a new messenger bag, one that is not held together by willpower and safety pins. The three bleeding points on my left hand attest to this.
• I need to read the books I own before buying more.