Snapshot
I'm working 38 hours again, this week. Nothing like being an assistant manager at Christmas. I love my job (most of the time) but with the disgusting amount that's taken from me in taxes, I rather wish I were back at Matt's Farm and Garden, where I may not have had the title, but at least I could be proud to be doing the work of a manager, a salesperson, and everything in between, and it showed in the cash I got back at the end of the week. Honestly, I don't really know if this is worth it, anymore. I mean, I don't even agree with where my money is going. I guess this is the part where I have no right to complain, because it's my responsibility to act. But lets face it- we are forced to pick our battles, and, when we do, are we likely to choose the infinate war of reformation, or the fight to pass a few classes, keep the store running, finally get the oil changed, squeeze in the important things (friends, family, france, alliteration), make it to the bank on time, and pay back the movie rental place for the 3 movies our ex-boyfriend pretends to have returned a year and a half ago? I guess that this is where corruption wins. When masses of people fight and lose against our own power, and lose, it doesn't really leave much hope for change.
And here I thought I was about to complain about the class i opted to fail, last week. Guess nothing is that simple when you're a poisson. We have a habit of digressing.
I'm officially beyond fed up with the radio. There's no longer any sort of boundry between the pop stations, the rock stations, the alternative stations, or even the college stations (with a few exceptions.) Everything overlaps. Chrismas music is on every station, and has been since before Thanksgiving- a blasphemy in more ways than one. And honestly, it wouldn't irritate me so much if a) Every song didn't happen to be a cover of a song everyone's known since birth or b) I'd heard one single song by Stevie Wonder. So in a desperate attempt to escape the madness, I find that I've been listening to country stations for a solid month. I can't decide if that makes me desperate or open-minded, but I plan on listening to it until I get my fill or a cd player in my van. The latter will most likely never happen. (I think her system would reject it. I think I'm part of her system.)
The country songs and a vhs of Harry Chapin (it was sposta be Anne of Green Gables, but Harry came on first and mom and I just couldn't fast forward) teamed up on me and got me to pick up the phone and call someone I haven't spoken to in about a year. I found out that I need to start stepping out of my comfort zone (hear that, Portia?) and start questioning boundaries if I'm ever to become someone I can admire. It's the best I can do, considering I was not born an aquarius.
Had some fun adventures lately. One was meant to take place in beautiful glorius daylight, but the sun went down while we were still in my van. We became vampires and defied gravity (or at least a few laws and practicality). We learned a new skill which works best when paired with dorky movies and loud singalongs. Actually, this was all in two nights, and was pretty much all the adventure I've had the time to have recently. But I figure it was pretty great anyhow.
My dear friend Bastien has agreed to leave me the keys to his appartment. This means that I won't have to arrive in Paris with the smallest backpack I can convince myself to carry, or be a total vagabond who doesn't know exactly where she'll be staying; each night. How lucky can a girl get? I'll have a place to myself in Paris for nearly two weeks with the small requirement of watering a few plants and feeding a small arsenal of fighting fish every three days. I'm getting so excited!
I took my art history final, today, and aced it. I'd missed the last two classes, so I hadn't exactly learned about most of the things that turned out to be on it. Thanks to some excellent guesswork and a little bit of prior knowledge, however, I can thankfully say that I got an A. I'm considering sticking around URI for an extra semester so that I can double-major in art history; instead of just minoring in it. You've gotta do what you love, and all I could think, during that test, as I looked at these brilliant slides of works by Monet; Canova, Pissarro, and LeBrun, all I could think of were the beautiful things that I have had the opportunity to see in my lifetime. These works are real, to me. I have seen great things.
This isn't a complaint list or a brag list. It's just a snapshot for me to remember by a few years from now. I was reminded, this morning, that this journal dates back 3 whole years, and when I read all those stories that I'd forgotten, those people who I cared about or still care about or will love forever, I found I hadn't really lost a thing. And I'd prefer never to lose any of it. [Hey, Portia, if you're reading this, go read my first entry. It applies. I promise.] In any case, read away, if anyone does, but remember, please, that this one was mainly for me... in fact, they all are, and always were, even if my vain side does appreciate being read.
Happy pre-noel week, kids.