The Ability of Overthink-osity Is Both a Gift & a Curse
Yes, my friends. It has come to that time again where Stefanie has no clue what to do with her life. I have 2 job openings that have been offered to me. They are as follows:
One is at The Farm at Natchez Trace, a luxury boarding facility for animals. It pays $9/hr and I get to work with dogs all day (mostly big ones). That's all well and fine, but the fact is it's a good 30-40 minutes away from my apartment (and that's on a good day). I'd love working there, but I'd be spending SO much money on gas. And then when school starts I'll be doing part-time hours, so then gas will add up even more because I'll be driving between Belmont, the apartment, the house, and work. With how much gas is costing nowadays it just doesn't seem like I'd be making any money at all. Boo. But I WOULD love what I'd be doing.
The second is a job at CompUSA as a Business Representative. It pays $10/hr plus bonuses for extra sales that I do. It is closer to the apartment (I'd get there in about 30 minutes on a good day), being that it's in Cool Springs, but... it's Corporate. I hate corporate businesses. I've learned through Borders that corporate management and all of that is not a good environment for Stefanie. I mean, I CAN work there, but... it's just not for me, you know? The fact that it's in Cool Springs is both a pro and a con. It's closer to school, but it's Cool Springs. I hate Cool Springs. BLARG (For the RvB fans that got that reference, thank you. You are wonderful.)!---
So here's the laydown:---
PROS _______________________ CONS
Work with animals all day long -------- Really far away
$9/hr --------------------------------- REALLY far away---
$10/hr +bonuses --------------------- Corporate business
would make many moolahs ----------- Cool Springs
Those are the basics. I don't know which I should do. You know... actually, I think I do know what I should do... I just don't want to do it. I've had it up to here (I'm gesturing with my hand up to my forehead, just to let you know... That's what I mean by "here.") with corporate businessses. Sure, I could sell someone a big fat pile of dog feces if I had to (That's what acting is all about when it comes down to it, isn't it?), but... Corporate businesses are all about passive agressiveness, and that doesn't fly with me. If I do something wrong, please tell me, and I will do my best to fix it. If you don't tell me, then there's absolutely no way for me to know that I did something incorrectly. You know? It's this horrible cycle of passive agressive turd-like behavior, and I just wish people would be straight forward. I guess, as far as the CompUSA job goes, I'm also a little scared because it's not a normal kid job. It's a JOB. I mean, I'd have to be an adult, because I'd kind of be higher on the corperate ladder than the retail people. What if I don't have what it takes to do the job that they want me to do? I guess that's part of it, too. Man, I guess I've made my decision. I do need to save money, and $10/hr + bonuses sounds really good. Not that $9 doesn't... but about 1/2 of my salary is going to go into gas. That's not good. At all. Well, crap. Well, I have a trial day at The Farm on Friday, and we'll see how that goes. I'll call CompUSA tomorrow to tell them that I can start working on Monday if they need me. CRAP. Damn you, corporate! DAMN YOU!---
For those of you that pray, pray for me... And for those of you that don't... put your non-religiousness aside and pray for me anyway. I need it.---
In other news:
I'm reading a new book, called The Crimson Petal & the White by Michael Faber. Although it's billed as the first great 19th-century novel of the 21st century, The Crimson Petal and the White is anything but Victorian. The story of a well-read London prostitute named Sugar, who spends her free hours composing a violent, pornographic screed against men, Michel Faber's dazzling second novel dares to go where George Eliot's The Mill on the Floss and the works of Charles Dickens could not. We learn about the positions and orifices that Sugar and her clients favor, about her lingering skin condition (icthyosis), and about the suspect ingredients of her prophylactic douches. Still, Sugar believes she can make a better life for herself. When she is taken up by a wealthy man, the perfumer William Rackham, her wings are clipped, and she must balance financial security against the obvious servitude of her position. The physical risks and hardships of Sugar's life (and the even harder "honest" life she would have led as a factory worker) contrast--yet not entirely--with the medical mistreatment of her benefactor's wife, Agnes, and beautifully underscore Faber's emphasis on class and sexual politics. In theme and treatment, this is a novel that Virginia Woolf might have written, had she been born 70 years later. The language, however, is Faber's own--brisk and elastic--and the plethora of detail he offers (costume, food, manners, cheap stage performances, the London streets) slides effortlessly into his forward-moving sentences. When Agnes goes mad, for instance, "she sings on and on, while the house is discreetly dusted all around her and, in the concealed and subterranean kitchen, a naked duck, limp and faintly steaming, spreads its pimpled legs on a draining board." So far it's been a quick read, despite it's 800+ pages. :) Leave it to me to read novels that are thicker than one's hand, right? Anyways, normally, this isn't the kind of book that I read, but it's first 2 sentences grabbed me.---
"Watch your step. Keep your wits about you; you will need them."
I read that and thought to myself, "Well, ok, then, Mr. Faber. Why might I need my wits?" So I read on. 48 pages later, I realized that I had not even stopped to think about whether I liked the book or not. The subject material is debateable, but it's so well written. Kind of like Perfume: the Story of a Murderer. That was an iffy subject, and it was really perverse, but Suskind's (the author) writing style is positively brilliant. Plus, I'm trying to read more. I've spent so much time sitting down and watching TV that I feel my brain has suffered quite a bit as well as my own writing style. I tried to sit down and write the other day, and all I could come up with were stupid 5-word sentences that may as well have been about Jack and Jill falling down a fucking hill. So it hit me: I haven't been reading practically anything. So I'm reading more. Every night before I go to bed I read a chapter. :) I started to read The Count of Monte Cristo for the 6-- or was it 7th-- time (You all know my fascination with that particular work of literature from my last blog.), but I decided that I needed to read something new, something fresh that had a different style than I was used to. So here I am reading a story about a prostitute who has icthyosis. Why is it that I just so happen to pick up books that are, to say the least, shockingly perverse? It's strange. The last 2 books I've read (Perfume and The Crimson Petal & the White) have both been very sexual in nature, but they've been so well-written that the reader doesn't realize they're reading something really vile. IF YOU PLAN ON READING PERFUME SKIP TO THE NEXT PARAGRAPH! SPOILER!! For example, in the last few pages of Perfume, the main character decides that he doesn't want to live anymore in his current state, so he kills himself. Now, it's not that that's bad. No, that doesn't even hold a candle to how he does it. You see, he has crafted this perfume that sends even the strongest of individuals into the throws of passion, into this euphoria in which they experience the most moving orgasm they've ever experienced. We see it in its full effect when he is about to be hanged (He killed 26 girls and captured their scents in those crazy little perfumer ways in order to create this perfume...). He puts a mere drop of it on his wrist, and all of the sudden the crowd erupts into this orgy. Everyone is having animalistic sex, because this perfume is just so brilliant and effective. They also believe that no man such as he could do such a thing as kill 26 innocent girls. As a result, he is set free. It's then that he decides that he doesn't want to live any longer. So he pours the entire contents of the vial holding the volitile perfume onto his person and walks out into the streets of Paris during a spooky, moonlit night. He is then attacked by all of the lowlives of the city, ripped to shreds and eaten by prostitutes and homeless people who, after eating him of course, have sex with one another in fits of passion. As I said, it's extremely perverse and vile, but Suskind writes it so beautifully that you don't realize how horrible it really is. I'm assuming that's how The Crimson Petal & the White will be the same way. At least, that's how it is so far. I think that, after these two books, I'm definitely going to be in need of some good ol' Jane Austen. You can't go wrong with Jane Austen. Ever. Kind of like how there's always money in the banana stand (Thank you, Arrested Development.).
I think next up on my reading list is a nice, safe dose of Jane Austen by way of Emma. Oh, what a lovely book. :)
Anyways, that's all that's on my mind right now... I think... Well, actually, scratch that. I have one more thing to say.
So I went out with one of my friends named Alison recently, and she told me that her brother wants and has always wanted to go on a date with me. Now, I've known this family since the 5th grade. They're like extended family for me. I went on vacation with them! I just don't know what I think about that. He's a nice guy, but... he's kind of like a brother to me... kind of. I'll have to do some deep thinking about this one. Plus, if something were to go awry, there could be some serious repercussions in dealing with friendships and whatnot. I can only hope that it doesn't come to that.
It looks like I have a lot of thinking to do. Oi vey.