Hmm. I was supposed to see two movies with my husband tonight at his work. It's 15 minutes until the first one starts. For some reason I've been waiting for the last 45 minutes waiting for him to come home. He knows I dislike driving there and prefer he drive home, pick me up, and then drive back to work. I know it's a double trip for him, but I don't have to worry about finding/paying for parking or whether or not I will have a ticket waiting for me at the box office. I guess he thought I was going there tonight. Sometimes our paths kind of get short circuits like that and neither one of us knows what the other one is doing.
As I mentioned the other day about the interviews at work, they are happening, but without me. I usually like doing the actual interview, but I'm hesitant about who I want to hire. In the past our candidates haven't been very good but the HR person who is doing our pre-screens seems to be doing a good job lately. We used to have a "dedicated" recruiter who stank. This person (whom I haven't even met) works 15 or 20 hours a week and seems to be able to get people in that same week. Go part-time HR person! Go!
I am a member of a writing board for friends I've met through EverQuest. I've met a handful of them in person. Most of the people on the board are interested in role-playing or are creative in other ways too. Feel free to stop by - they encourage stories, poems and artwork of all kinds. My favorite part of the board is the Atelier
. Each week a new inspiration is posted and people post something that has been inspired by the sentence of the week. Things had been slow of late, but all of a sudden it went BAM!! Inspirations were being posted at least once a day - I'm now about 15 behind. It kind of made me mad as I had made a promise to myself that each week I would at least try to work on each inspiration, even if whatever resulted wasn't to my liking. Some inspirations are more inspiring than others - that's natural.
I guess with so many to get caught up on that I might be able to do it in... September? By then I should have about 30 to do. :) My husband is very encouraging of my writing and understands when I say I need time to do it. Lately I haven't had the brain power to do it and I'm stuck. I began Escaping into the Open
in June or July (I forget now when I started it) and haven't gotten past the third exercise. There is a creative writing workshop at the library a few blocks away from where I live in September. I'd like to attend it - I've never been to a writing workshop.
Everything I know about writing I learned in school or on my own. One of my favorite memories is of me and my best friend when we were in middle school. She'd spend the night at my place and we'd work on a story together. She'd write one paragraph, I'd write the next, and so on. She lives on the other side of the country now. I miss her. I don't call or write her nearly as much as I probably should.
Have you ever wondered about the people that used to live where you live now? Or had the same phone number as you?
We've lived in this apartment for about 8 years now. An elderly woman and her son lived here. When we looked at the apartment they were mostly moved out. The basement had one of those bunk lofts you find in college dorm rooms. We receive FingerHut
catalogs in her name as well as notices of free reservations at the local comedy club. Our old next door neighbor, Robin, had a dog named Josey. Robin told me that the old woman's dog liked treats and the old woman used to leave one on Robin's back doorstep for Josey. Our basement gets warm during the winter due to the furnace being down there. Our basement gets water (and sometimes floods) on a regular basis. How could her son have lived down there?
We've had the same phone number since living here. Every few months we get phone calls for Paula F. Over the years I've learned that she has a dentist, gets behind on her bills now and then and is an abstract artist who works in oils. She's missed out on at least two commissions because they haven't been able to locate her. Sometimes I make up stories in my head about these women.
The best time for thinking is when I'm walking our dog. My mind kind of wanders, or I wonder about the people I pass. Even if I'm only walking him around the block, there is usually something going on. The kids down the street are playing on their trampoline, the wheelchair-bound man is speeding down the sidewalk to go home, the car parked on the corner has a flat tire just yards away from a car repair place... anyway, I'm sure you get the idea. There are just nuggets of life waiting to be explored beyond the surface where I live.
For as long as I can remember I've had nicknames for people. Before I was in college, I had lots of friends named Chris. For example, one friend was nicknamed "I can't breathe Chris", and the other was nicknamed "Pennsylvania Chris". Chris, whom I had known since 7th or 8th grade was called "I can't breathe Chris" because she went through a phase where nearly every sentence ended with "I can't breathe!" The other Chris, whom I met in high school, drove with my parents to Pennsylvania to pick me up. The nicknames are obviously more interesting when you don't know the name of the person or only know part of the name.
There was a movie rental place in town called Aardvark Video. One of the clerks there was named Chris. (See a theme here?) My husband and I referred to him as Aardvark Chris. Since the store closed, we have seen him working at the city library, and now he's working at the bookstore for the arts center where my husband works. We see him biking or walking around the neighborhood now and then and I'm sure we could find out his last name but it's more fun to talk about Aardvark Chris.
Down the street from us lives Smoker Man. He worked at the Big Bear Grocery store down the block before they closed. I don't know what he's doing now for work. He used to walk to and from work so we'd see him in the neighborhood and when we went to Big Bear. He used to make a point of talking to our ex-neighbor Wendy when she'd shop there. He always called her by her first name and she felt like he was stalking her a little bit. When Wendy, my husband and I would chat he'd sometimes come up in conversation. Outside of work we always saw him smoking. One day my husband was carrying his paycheck in a book. It fell out and blew down the street. Smoker Man happened across it, called us and left a message for my husband. My husbnad went to the address only to have the door be opened by Smoker Man! The apartment was full of a blue haze from his cigarettes. The paycheck reeked of it. I'm glad Wendy doesn't smoke... if she did, I don't know how Smoker Man would have been able to stay away from her.
I guess I'm done rambling. I'll eat something for dinner and work on the monthly reports I brought home with me. Then I'll look at the employee reviews I brought home too.