Friday, October 10, 2008

Bittersweet

What a day, what a day.

Today I met this woman:



U.S. Congresswoman Nancy Boyda - a Democrat for the 2nd District of Kansas. Yes, a Democrat from Kansas - imagine that - and a Christian on top of that. Not that I give a shit if she's a Christian or not - most of the ones I know are horrendous judgemental hypocrites - but she emphasized that she came from a ultra conservative family who thought you couldn't possibly be a Democrat and a Christian at the same time. Or if you voted Democrat, God would strike you dead. Then, much to her surprise, she followed what she believed in instead of the threats from her family and God didn't strike her dead leading her to believe God isn't a Democrat or a Republican.
This message wasn't one I particularly warmed to since I'm agnostic leaning more towards atheism, but I thought it was a good one for the high school kids she was talking to. Most of those babies that are just starting to form an interest in politics yet are still in the grips of their parents' beliefs rather than thinking for themselves, will be going off to college next year and hopefully forming some of their own opinions.
Later on, she answered a "are you pro-life or pro-choice" question in a way I try to explain to people when they cross their hearts and begin to pray for my soul and all of my future unborn fetuses when they hear of my "pro-choice" stance. She said, "I hate to put a label on it" especially since she doesn't endorse either side, "but if you're going to do that, I am pro-choice." She said she was there in the '70s for Roe v. Wade and back alley abortions and explained how she never wants that to be an issue for women again. She made it clear that pro choicers are not lovers of baby killing. Contrary to popular belief, pro choice does not equal pro abortion, but pro awareness, pro education, pro prevention, pro adoption and PRO CIVIL RIGHTS. The kids actually applauded after that. She has my vote.
After enjoying one of the perks of my career, I promptly quit my job. Yeah, just marched right in there and gave my two weeks. Except I didn't know it was going to be so difficult. My stomach was burning and I almost cried because my editor was more open about his disappointment than I expected - not only because he has another position to fill, but because I was leaving. It blows to feel appreciated for the first time the second after you quit a job, but somehow it always seems to work that way. I re-explained the details of the new job and re-heard the appreciation and disappointment (though not for the first time since he has always been a cheerleader for me) from the photographer on the way out. The beauty of Facebook and all of my friends congratulating me on there allowed one employee to find out a few days earlier, but the rest will find out on Monday - not looking forward to that.
The reality of not only this whole "new job" thing, but career change is starting to set in and while I wanted this and agonized over this, I'm afraid of losing my identity as a journalist. It just doesn't seem as cool to respond to the "what do you do for a living" question with: "I'm an office bitch." And, throwing on the "...and freelance writer" thing just sounds douchey. Of course "office bitch" isn't exactly true since I'm supposed to be preparing marketing material for the company as well - something only an office bitch that possesses mad skills can do - so I believe I'll now be answering that question with, "I'm an office bitch with mad skills." We'll see what kind of conversations follow that response.
After my traumatic job quitting experience, I decided to lift my spirits with a little shopping, but not crazy, just-grab-all-the-shit-off-the-rack-I-like kind of shopping - I had lists. Mainly, the trip to the mall was to start looking for Gwen Stefani attire for my Halloween costume and with her style, Hot Topic was the place to go.
I've decided they need to hand out shots of whiskey at the door to give you a little liquid tolerance to handle that store. Metal music plays over the store speakers at a volume that's on the verge of ear piercing - especially since it's terrible at much lower volumes anyway - and it's covered in clothing and jewelry you would never actually wear unless you're blatantly trying to draw attention to yourself - "look at me, look at me, I'm totally emo!" All the little emo and goth children, including the employees, stare you down in that life-is-shit-what-the-hell-are-YOU-doing-in-here kind of way. They're all, yeah, you may have black hair, but you're totally just a poser in your business casual attire. Get out of OUR store.
As I was staring up at the teeny tiny plaid school girl skirts with chains attached and matching corsets, a female employee came up to me and said, "You look like you're looking for something." After I explained that I was looking for Halloween stuff, she (looking very annoyed) gestured to her left and said all the Halloween costumes were over there.
But, wait, this whole store is a Halloween costume.
And, since they don't serve Whiskey shots, I lasted about 10 minutes and left. I'm totally dragging Kate there to help me in the next few days because that store requires moral support...and a full flask-o-booze.

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