Saturday, April 25, 2009

My "Special" Little Project

Location: Work/Home
Mood: artistic


So, one of my jobs is super boring. I sit in a room for 8 hours and wait for someone to bring their kid for me to look after. Right now there’s only one baby living there, and so I’m usually just sitting around. It is so boring it hurts my head, and I’ve been looking for something to do.

If you are a devoted Mindy-blog reader (and why wouldn’t you be?), then you know that I was toying with the idea of writing a book. I have decided to alleviate my work-time boredom by doing just that. I drew out a time line, and some character descriptions, and then I got kind of excited. It looks like I’m really doing this. Here’s hoping I get famous.

In all actuality it is kind of stupid. It’s about some teenagers (15-16 years-old). I haven’t fleshed out the main character, because I’m hoping that she’ll reveal herself to me in the process. I can’t decide if her name is Kathyrn Louise (friends call her Katie) or Margaret Louise (friends call her Maggie). I don’t know why I settled on Louise, but I did.

Anyway, that’s not what I was meaning to write about. This girl Katie/Maggie thinks her heart is broken at the beginning of the book (teenage romance). She doesn’t have many friends she’s close to, but a few of them band together to pull her out of her funk. In this she grows really close with one girl (a slightly shallow, but still caring girl named Vick) and develops deep feelings for another boy (yet unnamed). She and unnamed boy actually fall deeply in love. This is the real thing. It’s deep-seated and strong. Well, one day unnamed boy breaks up with her inexplicably. Poor Katie/Maggie, but she’s stubborn and refuses to believe that he didn’t feel the same way for her (because he did). Unnamed boy starts acting weird, and Katie/Maggie suspects foul play. She is determined to get to the root of it.

This is the part I haven’t really worked out yet. I’m not sure if unnamed boy (he really needs a name), is in a cult or if there’s something magical and mysterious that makes him do a 180°. I’ll get there. Also, I think that her boyfriend, from the beginning, Dean Greggor, is going to come back (as a friend) and help her solve the mystery. Dean is a super curious guy, and he likes figuring things out.

Wow, that was longer than what I thought it was going to be. The reason why I’m writing this at all is because I’ll probably want people to read it and give me their opinions and stuff. It’s a process, and I can’t be very objective about my own writing. So, if you are at all interested in reading my “special” little story, let me know. I’d love the help.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

My Love Life

Location: EVERYWHERE
Mood: worried
Music: I'm Not Okay - My Chemical Romance

People, I am facing serious issues here…

SERIOUS…

My cute-detector is broken.

What is a cute-detector? you ask. (Good question!) A cute-detector is a piece of you (I’m unclear as to whether it’s in your brain or if it’s otherwise physiological) that tells you approximately how attractive someone is.

This is a serious problem that has the potential to cause some intense predicaments. It has been so long since I have dated anyone, since I’ve flirted, since I’ve had any kind of attention in anyway that I am now broken! I can’t tell if people are cute. It started out slowly. I just got excited over smiles from moderately attractive people. Now, its traumatic. My heart flutters when uggos even look in my general direction.

The other day I was hanging out with a friend, and a guy drove past us. I said, “he looks like he could be cute.” He parked his car, and got out. I’m not kidding here, he was Shamu’s first born.

Did I mention that this is a problem?

It’s gotten so bad that I’m starting to wonder about my age-detector. An age-detector, for those of you who couldn’t figure it out (seriously?), is the part of you that can detect approximately what age a person is. If this detector goes, then I am screwed. I’m genuinely worried that I’m going to go a little crazy over a 14 year old. Maybe I should start asking guys if they have their learners’ permits before I talk to them.

The biggest concern over this new development is I am a prime target for a 14 year old boy’s affection! Look at me! I look like I’m 14 myself. These boys look at me, assume I’m their age but with boobs, and they go wild.

I realize that this could be evolution's way of having my back. It’s like nature is telling me that it’s been so long since I’ve had any attention that I need to lower my standards and increase my odds. However, if my age-detector goes I’m in trouble.

I REPEAT:
THIS IS.
A.
PROBLEM!!!!

I need some attention. Anyone know any moderately attractive guys I can flirt with? I just need someone to pay attention to me for a little bit. If this doesn’t get resolve, next time you see me I’ll be driving my fat new boyfriend to the winter formal.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

I Don't Know, I'm Not Proud of It, Please Stop Asking Me

Location: Alpenrose Velodrome.
Mood: tired


I went to an event that my parents put on each year. It isn’t really an event. Basically before the beginning of each track (velodrome) season, they have everyone come out and help them clean up and repaint the track. The weather was supposed to be nice, so I figured I’d go. Who knows, maybe I’d manage to wrangle myself a boyfriend.

As usual, everyone that knows me wants to know what I’m doing with my life these days. I’m still looking for a career, but I think even if I’d found one I would be sick and tired of being asked about it. It’s like when you hurt yourself. As soon as people see a cast it’s all they want to talk to you about, and you get irritated with telling and re-telling what happened to you. But, I haven’t found a career. I’ve got a job, and I’m still looking. I live at home with my Mommy and Daddy. Thank you very much.

I know that people mean well. I know that they are just trying to strike up conversation. I’m not too upset with them, but put yourself in my shoes. I feel like I should be wearing a sandwich board that reads:

“Hi, How are you? I’m alright Oh, I’m still looking (for a job). I’ve put in over 600 applications since June. I have a part time job making $9.50/hour. Putting that Bachelor’s to good use.  Yes the economy sucks right now. No I don’t really want to hear your personal take on the economy, but you’re going to tell me anyway so I’ll listen.  I live with my parents. I’m ready to move out. To save us some awkwardness, I’m going to look for a reasonable excuse to exit this conversation now. It was nice talking to you. Peace.”

Okay, it would have to be a rather large sandwich board, and I’m a small person. But I think it would save us all a lot of trouble.

1 comment

Nicole Pexton wrote
at 9:37pm April 19th, 2009

Yes! I have been known to run and hide from people who might have this conversation with me in public places.

What happened to talking about the weather?

Tuesday, April 7, 2009

New Jobs

Location: Work
Mood: annoyed

I hate new jobs. Can’t stand them. I wish it were possible to start a new job at the “I’ve worked here for over a year” point. I always feel like an idiot when I start a new job. Even when the job is really simple. Every job has it’s own way of doing things, and you always need to ask how to do things. For instance, I worked retail. My first day on the job they asked me to fold some shirts. I asked them how to fold the shirts. They looked at me like I was a moron. I’m not stupid. I know HOW to fold shirts, but I assumed that they had a specific way they wanted me to fold the shirts. They did.

This new job that I’m working is no exception. It is a bit worse actually. Whenever I work I’m by myself. It’s usually pretty boring. However, occasionally there is something I need to do or a question I need to answer, and I don’t know how to do it, what the answer is, or who to ask. I just feel dumb. The worst part is, the residents  look at me like I know what I’m doing. Then, when I don’t know what to do they seem to react as though I don’t know anything at all.

It’s not the worst thing in the world, but I’m ready to reach the point where I actually know what I’m doing.

Oh, did I mention that the woman who trained (and continues to train me through notes) barely speaks English? I don’t speak Russian, so it’s all a bit confusing.
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