I Return Triumphant from the Hunt

I got a job working for this amazing garden designer who incorporates native Californian plants in her landscapes. I am very happy, and also typing incoherently due to large infusions of coffee.

Not sure if it is because of or despite my trollishness. Regardless, I am optimistic about this one; I searched long and hard, and really tried to find a place that would not send me spiraling down into depression, shame, and peniture. In other words, I sought a job that would be almost entirely different from my last hellish servitude at the EG.

And can I just add that if any of the two readers who read this blog should happen to consider working at the EG, stop it right now; you will be underpaid and abused by both the clients and your supervisors. Especially your supervisors, as it is their lame systems and morale-sapping policies that create bad service for which the clients call up and yell at you. It is a horrible, horrible place.

But I don't intend to allow this entry to degenerate into a long-winded rant about my last position. I want to focus instead on my rosy future with a really cool garden designer who started her business from scratch some 15 or so years ago. She hired me as an office admin, but since I am the only office worker, I will essentially be the office manager. Good starting pay, 3/4 time, and health benefits.

Plus I get to work in a little cottage nestled in a beautiful garden, right near the shops and restaurants on Solano Ave. Happy troll is me.

Wedding Troll

There must be some sort of consequence to having a troll help you pick out so important a garment as a wedding dress. But what would it be? My imagination fails me, and I can't find any folktales on the subject, so I guess we'll have to wait and see.

Spent the day Monday with my extra cool friend Linda (see previous posts for more on that) hunting through Berkeley and Oakland for her wedding gown.

Our itinerary:
Patina on Solano Ave (really nice salesperson, wonderful eclectic selection of fashions with a good quality and a real Berkeley feel). They had this really cool green silk jacket/shirt (pictured) that Linda loved.

4th St to visit Molly B's (more casual than I recall), Anthropologie (ugh), and some other stores that were rather blah.

Then back to Oakland where we ate lunch, walked to this place I can't remember the name of that is on Piedmont Ave (they have a lot of Chinese silks, and they specialize in custom embroidery).

As our last stop, we drove to Soiree on College Ave. Which was closed, so we went across the street to Chic, the first store I have ever been to that sells t-shirts for $315.

Which was where Linda unexpectedly found her perfect outfit!! We were so excited!!! Really, we had planned this day as more of an initial exploration and idea-gathering jaunt than an actual earnest search. So finding the ONE was a truly unforeseen fortunate EVENT. And it definitely made up for the snooty saleswoman who wouldn't let us take a pic of Linda trying on things (which we had been doing all day with no problems at all).

The Dress:
By the designer Nataya, who is Uzbekistanian (originally, but now she lives in Rome) and specializes in vintage-style clothing, especially 20's and 30's styles. I don't know if Linda would want me to post a picture of the actual dress, so I will just say that 1) it is from the Fall 2005 collection and 2) it looks 20,000,000 times better on Linda than it does on the model.

Still Life with Envelopes

So I had my interview today with the Poster Compliance people. It was in a storage room, and I snagged my tights on a huge box of mail. This is possibly the most boring business ever created; they specialize in making the posters that go in the back hall of your work that tell you what minimum wage is, etc. I suppose it is a useful, hence noble, occupation.

Yawn.

The people are nice. I liked watching their eyes bug out as I described operations at my last job. So I guess I'd be willing to work there if they pay me enough. With this in mind, I asked for both my interviewers' email addresses (so I could write a pretty little thank you letter). One of them doesn't check her email, which blows my mind, and which means that I had to not only write the letters but *gasp* print them out and mail them.

Which is why I now have a stack of ruined envelopes on my kitchen table; my cheap-assed printer kept jamming. Very irritating, and after a while I got this look of grim determination on my face as I fed envelope after envelope into its gaping maw. Eventually I printed out two envelopes correctly, only to find that Word had loaded the wrong address on them.

On the Hunt

For the past month I've been job-hunting, and I'm finally starting to get the hang of it. So much so that I am actually enjoying writing cover letters in a sort of masochistic, picking-at-scabs sort of way. Can I get a job getting jobs?

Perhaps I should wait until I actually get a job before I embark on a career of finding employment. Then I could put "proven ability to get a job" on the resume as one of my skills.

On another note, my really cool friend Linda came over this afternoon. I was so excited! Linda is so cool it's like having an air conditioner turned on when she comes in the door. She's so PC environmental activists blush with shame when they see her. And she's so hip, she actually has this blog as her homepage on her computer at work!

Which, since I'm not really sure that anyone else at all reads this blog, puts me in the interesting position of writing for an audience of (most likely) one. And this brings up a question or two. For example, should I be writing about Linda in the third person?

Maybe I should address you directly, Linda.

Ooh, wait, maybe not. It's always a little creepy when your computer begins to address you directly. Sorry, Linda!

But the best thing of all was we got to look at wedding dresses for Linda. Sadly, we didn't really find any she liked. Why are they all so freakin alike? It's not just that they are all white, but we couldn't find any with sleeves, either. 20,000 white strapless dresses that you can only wear once. Yikes.

Here, Linda! I found you a dress: it's not white, and it's not strapless. You just have to learn not to breathe while you wear it.

Have a Trollish Day

Ever have one of those extra-trollish days, where any little thing can set you off? Not due to pms, or bad weather, money troubles, relationship difficulties or any normal, understandable irritants, you just woke up on the wrong side of the bed?

In a way, I enjoy days like these as they give me permission speak my mind about things that I normally let slide (since I am just such a mellow person). It's a great time to let out all those pet peeves I've been storing up, thinking I was so tolerant and understanding, and then one day-pow! right in the kisser. Like this:

"Honey?"
"Unh."
"Could you please clean your hair out of the bathroom sink?"
"What?" (it's 5:30 in the morning and he was completely asleep)
"I said would you get up and clean your hair out of the bathroom sink."
"What the fuck-"
"Because I keep having to pick up after you. I'm sick of it."
"Shut up." (rolls over and pulls a pillow over his head)
"No, you shut up!"
"What the fuck is your problem?"
"You. You're the problem. Why should I have to deal with your hair all over the sink?" (by now I am throbbing with righteous wrath)
"It's too early for this. Jesus Christ!"
"What. What? What! Look, you're upsetting the dog, you jerk!"

At this point if I am lucky he'll actually get pissed off (instead of just grumpy). Then he sits up in bed, and his face turns red, he gets this throbbing vein on his forehead, and his eyes shoot these lazer beams out that sear holes in the sheetrock.

Later in the day I act confusingly nice to him. It's all part of my master plan. Besides, it's nice to take my bad moods out on Rhys since I am always confident that he can take what I dished out, and he has inflicted enough of his moods on me that I know he deserves to get dumped on. So it's a real win-win situation.