Orientation

Tomorrow begins what I will refer to as Orientation Week: Learning About the Campus Policies of Which I Am (Mostly) Aware. Having gone to undergrad here, I understand how to obtain a parking permit, where to print, how to purchase athletics tickets and so on. Most of tomorrow will be spent that way, with the exception of the afternoon, where I will register as a new employee and go through orientation for the Department of English. The rest of the week will be dedicated to training for my job this year as a tutor in the writing lab on campus, as part of my assistantship.

I have to admit that I am a bit nervous about diving in to this program, while at the same time I am elated to be a part of a program I know I will love. I have confessed this to my parents and T, who both told me I have nothign to worry about, and that I worked my ass off to be here and I deserve it, ergo, no nervousness needed. At the risk of sounding full of myself, yeah, I did work my ass off and I sure as hell deserve it. But what makes me uneasy is that I have a distant feeling I will be the only student who is right out of undergrad. I didn't take some time off between undergrad and grad school to enter the workforce, I have relatively no publishing experience and I question how I will be received.

My mom told me I have always been a bit ahead of my peers, and so my maturity level will be my saving grace in this instance, and I sure as hell hope so. I'm hoping the collaborative nature of graduate school, particuarly among writers, will play to my advantage. It's not cutthroat like law school for instance (sorry T), and I have been welcomed already by a few former TAs and professors into the creative brood. Still the anxiety persists.

"A little nervousness is good," my mom told me. "It means you care about what you're doing."
"Yeah, call us tomorrow and tell us how right we were about you belonging," added my father. I suppose they're right, and the advantage of being younger is that I still get some parenting, while others are already parenting their children. Not that I'm drowing and need that much guidance, but the fact my parents can come to my aid and give me a pep talk is comforting. Like when I go to my parent's and my mom makes me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Nothing better.

T does his fair share of calming as well. We both have a big week ahead and often take turns playing the parent, per se. He has 8 interviews with law firms this week for summer associate positions, in addition to reading for class, which starts in a week. This is the home of grad students. I think I need to stock up on coffee and red pens.

After today and the talks I've had with each of my parents and T, the one piece of advice--if you can even call it that--left resonating in my mind is from my father. It was the chorus of my pre-teen and teenaged years during soccer and volleyball seasons, and it popped up a few times in college as well. "Give 'em hell, sweetheart." Will do, Dad.

Off to skim, er...read for workshop training,
S

Last Day at Kohl's

I thought I would have inundated the blog with posts of the wonders of retail. I haven't, obviously, and I think it's because I'd rather forget than relive them. But I can't leave this one alone.

The thing about retail is that it's a bear. I work for a corporate institution that hires many employees part-time in order to avoid worrying about giving anyone benefits. As a result, I am horribly underworked, and the store is understaffed. I answer pages to work as a back up cashier, then leave the floor, where customers find they are without help. For a store that supposedly values customer satisfaction above all else, this is an undeniably flawed system. It's quite literally all about the money.

The other thing about retail is the nature of the customers. While I understand it is my job to assist patrons to the best of my ability, there are those who I absolutely cannot stand. I am not your personal servant for the hour you peruse the store. This does not give you right to breate me over something that is far beyond my control, especially after my attempts to solve your problem. Let me explain.

The other day, I was working an 8 hour shift at Kohl's, which can be a test of endurance. I was paged to the register to assist a customer in his search for denim. Long story short, I was yelled at in front of other customers and coworkers after failing to find a pair of Levi jeans that do not exist, meaning, Levi's does not make this style of denim. I will never understand the idea of yelling at a perfect stranger. It's something about food and retail that brings out the animal in a human. While I would have rather told him to kindly suck it, I instead had to gather myself and attempt to find the nonexistant pair of jeans.

And today is my last day. Not because of the incident, which left me rattled, I might add. But because the job I have on campus is one I think I'll truly enjoy. Students needing assistance with a paper for class is far more pressing to me than say, a customer needing a top in a certain color, and by god if you don't get it to me now so help me. I'd like to think I'm working for a greater good. I'm not in it for the money, like a business would be. I'm more interested in helping a student learn to write concisely, clearly and effectively. For academic reasons. That's why I'm leaving Kohl's.

Apologies for going AWOL

Greetings from my new fancy apartment!

I defend the lateness of this post, because I was swamped with prepping and moving not one, but two apartments. Yup, T and I took the dive! We are now situated in a pre-marriage co-inhabiting bliss, complete with some new furniture and pups. I can't qute express how excited I am to have ceiling fans, two floors, and a big ass kitchen. It's awesome. So I will now write to you from my humble abode. (We even have a covered parking spot. You'd think I'd have struck gold, I'm so happy.)

Promptly after hauling our worldy possessions and storing them haphazardly in our new place, we up'n left for Virginia for a week. Yeah, we drove. It was great though, we surprised my parents and brothers by showing up a day early. Wish I would have had a picture of my mom's face when she opened the door. They were all pretty happy, but my mom then immediately rushed to clean the bathroom and put sheets on the beds. It was a good mini-vacation though, we went to the beach (where I got probably the worst sunburn of my life), and Busch Gardens (where the worst sunburn of my life did not take the the heat too kindly), and lounged about at home. Worth the drive.

But now T and I are back at home, where we have put things in their place for the most part. Our living room is in good shape, complete with a brand new entertainment center (score!), new dishes (double score!) and even a vaccuum (I feel like a queen!). The dogs have slowly adapted, but the Little One doesn't like to be in a room by himself. He mostly follows me around until I'm settled in one spot, where he sleeps. The Pretty One is pretty much relaxed, even going upstairs. I was worried about her, but it's the little guy that is more freaked out than she is. They both barked at the door the other day. Probably the third time I've ever heard Pretty One bark, ever. Protective already of the new place.

We're also back to work. T works every day, same set hours. I am preparing for tax-free weekend at work, which feels a lot like gearing up for war. I have more hours this week than I ever have before, double what I normally work. It's not too bad, but it was hard getting back to work when all I want to do is get the rest of the apartment in order. And be with T, rather than leave for work right as he's getting home. That kind of sucks.

But money is money, and soon I'll be at work for the University. I put in my two weeks at work, since it's not doing me any good. I'll have a job and a stipend. Mama's a breadwinner for bein' smart.

Till next time, I'll bear news of the tax-free weekend front. Over and out.

S