Monday, February 18, 2013

Dead Ends

Another week by.  I have been in California for over 6 weeks and in that time filled out over 200 applications.  I have had only one interview with the Science Center (which has not called me back) (I don't include group interviews, of which I've had two, and one outright job offer, for which the pay was so little and the commute so long it wasn't worth it).

Oh, and that canvassing job I got offered a position at?  Well, they never returned any of my calls at all.  I'm starting to wonder if it was a scam or something.  I don't have Brandon's contact info so I have no way of asking him, either.  Is my identity being stolen?  Probably not, and if so, they can have it.  I'm not sure they'll like it much.  Still, it's irritating to be offered false hope.  What gives?  If you want people to treat you professional, you can start by not jerking around applicants and potential supporters.  I knew it seemed too good to be true.  Let the record show that I am extremely disappointed in Public Outreach, I suspect they might be a scam, and also they lost both any chance of a donation from me along with what could have been their best damn employee ever.

Employee?  More like EX-ployee!  Ziiiing!

All things considered, I am not feeling as discouraged as perhaps I should be.  At the end of the day, there is always the option of omitting my college degree from my resume and applying to Subway.

Damn it, why won't they return my calls?

Over the weekend, Andrew went camping with Jack and I stayed in.  Luckily, Mick was in town and we hung out some; we went to the Grove and I got new sunglasses, and on Sunday we visited Santa Monica beach.  But if it weren't for Mick... well, I need to make my own friends.  Andrew is undoubtedly getting a bit sick of towing me everywhere and I feel like a burden, and most of his friends are also Jack's friends, and I can't hang out with any of them without making an ass of myself.  Also, how come I'm expected to forgive Jack for being an asshole when no one's going about forgiving me for the same?  Seems a bit unfair to me.

Things between Jack and I are still tense.  I don't know why I'm expected to be his friend.  No friendship = no drama.  No drama?  No problem.  I prefer it this way, anyway.  Then again, on Sunday, there was a very interesting and unsettlingly relevant sermon about how you shouldn't hold grudges or vow never to forgive someone even if they're wronged you, be that wrong intentional or unintentional.  On one hand, I don't know how I'm supposed to not be angry, or to trust someone who says hateful things to me ever again.  On the other hand, it's very difficult not to take the advice of a saxophone-playing priest.

This was the best Google had to offer when I searched for "saxophone priest."

I have decided that, job or no job, I am going to enter the vet tech program come April.  Anything is better than stagnating, and there are lots of vet tech jobs.  Actually, looking for jobs with my biology degree and animal care background, I keep stumbling over them, like they're taunting me.  Being in a program and/or having a job is a way to make friends.  I wish the program started earlier than April, but at least this gives me more time to fruitlessly search for jobs I'm totally qualified for (and won't ever be hired for, inexplicably).  Le sigh.

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Fuck you, Valentine, Imma get me some boozahol!

I've always been conflicted on Valentine's Day.  It's typically been a bit like this:

And my typical response has been this:

But there's part of me that feels that the V-Day backlash is a bit juvenile.  Unless you are the actual St. Valentine, who understandably hates this holiday, as it commemorates his beheading in 269 A.D. at the order of then-Roman emperor Claudius the Cruel.

So this year I thought I'd do something different and try to enjoy myself.  So far it's not going so great.  You think that after primary school, it won't matter anymore, but it does; you're really aware of it and it sucks a little.

So I convinced Andy to come with me to see "Lady and the Tramp" in theatres tonight, because nothing quite cheers me up like a good family Disney movie.

 Ha ha, Walt Disney!  What a kidder.

But still, [emo rambling.]  You know?

And I haven't got much else to look forward to.  This weekend Andrew will be away and as you know, weekends aren't typically conducive to interviews, mail, or even call backs.  I hate weekends most of all.  This weekend Andrew will be camping (an activity I used to love) with a big group of people, Jack included.  I can't go in part because of social anxiety and in part because the dogs need me there to take care of them.  So I'm thinking, eh, at least I'll get to hang out with him before he leaves, right?  Nope; he's taking his ex-girlfriend out to some fancy avant-garde party tomorrow.  I don't want to sound jealous, but damn it, I am.  I'm so lonely and envious and I just want to scream at her sometimes.  (And sometimes I do, which makes me feel even worse.  I wish we could be friends.)

A lot of feelings stem from this idea that Andy's purposely sending me a message.  Something along the lines of, "Look, I take lots of pathetic single girls out to make them feel temporarily better!"  That I'm basically another Jenny to him, only an unemployed one who drinks a lot.

Artist's depiction.

That's the problem with nice people; you never know if they're being sincere.  Me, I'm a total asshole, but no one ever questions my sincerity.  And look at Jack.  He's been a total tool since I came here, but he's never strung me along, technically speaking.  Except for the entire relationship according to him.  But let's pretend he never said that for the sake of maintaining this entry's train of thought.

Doug would have gotten a date with Patty Mayonnaise a hell of a lot faster if he'd just asked for Roger's advice from the start.  Roger would've told him straight.  Also, look at how much better Roger is dressed than Doug.  That's what assholes bring to the table: honesty and ravishing good fashion sense.  Also, I was originally going to have a picture here of Ralph's "choo-choo-choose you" card following my train comment above, but decided there's already more than enough Simpsons on here.  I don't even like Simpsons that much... there just happens to be a Simpsons picture for EVERYTHING.

So anyways I'm feeling sort of down in the dumps, although hopefully you've already gathered that.  Anyways, I've come to the conclusion that I've irrevocably ruined any chance I had of taming Jenny and the nicest possible thing I can do is leave her alone and never talk to her again.  Honestly, I want to be able to like her, but I find it damn near impossible.  She occupies that uncanny valley of Not Quite Human... she never smiles or displays emotions, never says anything personal or anecdotal or interesting, and just sort of awkwardly occupies space.  It's not that she's unlikeable, either, per se.  But she's the one person in the room least likely to stand up for herself and who appears to take zero offence or damage if you ramble drunkenly at her, so of course I'm going to attack her.  Plus she uploaded roughly 600 million photos to FaceBook while dating my best friend, clogging up my newsfeed and reminding me of how totally alone I am ("HANGING OUT WITH ANDY THIS WEEKEND WAS AWESOME, THAT'S WHY HE WAS TOO BUSY TO TALK TO YOU TEE HEE"), not to mention reminding me of the inevitability of his eventually falling in love and abandoning me too. 

Ugh, this is so depressing to mull over.  I'm going to go watch some Disney to cheer me up.
Ha ha ha ha, Walt, you card!

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Out of Bounds

Hi there, Blog.

Today we're going to be visiting the unfortunate land of Juvenile Drama, courtesy of Butthurt & Affliates.

So I've been settling well into Los Angeles; I've applied for well over a hundred jobs with minimal success, but I just keep it up, like the Little Engine That Could if he had a college degree that turned out to be worthless because he's a train.  But in the meantime I got a temporarily pay-the-bills sort of job for Public Outreach, which is better than nothing; my friend Brandon turned me on to it.  Brandon is a couchsurfer that Jack hosted at his place during the very first week I was here, and he's a really mellow, easy-going guy who I never feel very anxious around and who is tactful and awesome at dealing with my bullshit.

Other than Jack, Andrew, and sometime Brandon, though, my acquaintance pool is small.  Okay, it's like, three people I hang out with regularly.

The problem is, I'm a bit of a nervous wreck around people and I drink a lot to deal with that, and then I become belligerent and let's face it, unless you're all cute and fuzzy like Oscar the Grouch while doing it, people tend not to put up with that crap.

Angry and lives in a garbage can... you just KNOW he's an alcoholic, too.

The thing of it is, once I get to know people, I calm down a lot.  Andrew's remarkably good at detecting my anxiety level and dealing with it BEFORE it becomes a problem.  I'm not saying everyone ought to be able to do that, but his identical twin brother, Jack, has this phenomenal ability to actually somehow make it worse.  Lately we've been fighting a lot because Jack says or does something stupid and tactless (that he's not even aware of) and then I'm mean to him, and he's incapable of handling it; he gets really cruel and defensive.

Artist's depiction of how I act every fucking time we fight.

Example:  following a fight, Andrew suggested we write each other e-mails and his was a one-paragraph note calling me a bitch.

Artist's depiction of how Jack acts every fucking time we fight.

My point is, there's been a lot of tension and drama between us, which is weird because the road trip went smashingly, and remember how we went to that movie premier and afterwards went to Varnish?  We've never fought like this before.  My current hypothesis is that  he's got some weird jealousy thing with Andrew or is possessed by a ghost.  I hope it's the ghost because I've always wanted to see how a Jewish exorcism works, and also because it would be easier to get the ghost out of him that to get his brother out of me.

Anyway, so we're at his place on Saturday and Jack said something that annoyed me.  What was said isn't important; even as I got irritated and told him off, I was apologising for over-reacting.  I was hyper-aware of having an overly emotional response.  So I asked for cool-down time, and I'm sitting there browsing the 'net while he hovers over my shoulder like the world's most annoying bee.  If you've ever heard a bee buzzing over your shoulder, you'll appreciate how annoying that can be and how that is not how "cool-down time" works.

A great allegory for it is this: when you open a bottle of soda and it starts to fizz up really fast, you quickly close it again, wait for the bubbles to die down, and then slo-o-owly ease it open again to release the pressure in a controlled way.  I feel like when Jack opens a bottle, he must shake the ever-loving hell out of it to make the bubbles go away faster.  The problem is, the top blows off and now there's soda everywhere.

Without getting too much into details, he basically said our whole relationship was a joke or something, and then kicked me out of his house. 

It was really juvenile and really uncalled for, and I'm just completely done.  His behaviour of late is so far off the charts in douchebagginess that I can't even comprehend it; he's basically bringing guns to knife fights and it's bullshit.  I'm willing to admit to being the instigator and willing to admit to being mean, and hell, I've apologised until I'm blue in the face.  But I don't think that justifies some of the crap that comes spewing forth from his maw; if someone slaps you, that doesn't give you permission to drive a knife into their back and twist.  (Yes, I just brought a knife to a gun metaphor.  Deal with it.)

On the bright side, I no longer have to dread hanging out with him.  (Honestly, since I arrived here, I feel like hanging out with him is a terrible casino game where I bet a lot of money and nearly always lose, and when I win it's a really small amount, and also it's not even real money, it's like Monopoly money or some shit.)  I just don't feel like it's worth it anymore; when you start to feel consternation about hanging out with your best friend, it's time to really ask yourself if they ARE your best friend.  Also, I don't think my best friend would take the one thing in my life that mattered more than anything, ever, and tell me it was a cruel prank that was being pulled on me, you know?  I don't hold much sacred, but it's understood that our relationship was a thing and even today I still hurt over it.  Also, the kicking me out thing?  The last time that happened, it was his mother, and she treated me like shit in a way I have never, ever been treated before or since by any decent human being, ever.  So, you know, sensitive topic there.

My big question is WHY.  Jack's never been so awful before.  How did we go from this... this?

I was looking for a good fighting picture and found this.  I laughed until I cried.  
Once again, the Internet totally came through for me.

I'm trying to look at this from the perspective of "maybe he'll grow up someday," and "cool now I don't have to deal with drama anymore."  But at the same time, I'm really hurt and I miss my friend and I wish we had a time machine.  Even if we become friends again (which will be a long, uphill battle), he can't take back what he said.

But, in cheerier news, my buddy Mick is in town for filming.  (Mick is a stunt double.  You know how in Michael Bay films there's a big ox of a henchman who gets into a tank and drives it off a cliff or something?  ...Mick plays the tank.)  We went out to the R Bar last night and had a great time.  I can't wait until Mick moves here so I have another friend; it's comforting to know someone when you live somewhere new.

Also Andrew taught me to drive stick and I'm rather good at it.

So far I'm only wanted for reckless manslaughter in a handful of places.

Friday, February 8, 2013

Dume, Doom, et cetera

So in Malibu there's apparently this place called Point Dume, which I regularly accidentally called Mount Doom or Point Dune, both of which, in my humble little nerd opinion, would be way cooler.

Pictured: Cool.
Not pictured: Carlisle's Batman: The Animated Series limited edition Joker shirt.
Although let's face it, the Joker is definitely among the coolest of all supervillians, barring Mr. Freeze from the running since we're talking colloqiually, not literally. 

Anyways, last weekend, Andrew took me there with the USC climbing club to do some gentle rock climbing.  This is only the second time I've ever been to the beach.  It was a relatively warm day and I was able to wear a bikini, although to be frank it wasn't terribly flattering.

I'll spare you... here's a head shot. 
Wait a second.  This is my blog.  Fuck you, reader.  

We hung out in the sun for a while ("we" referring to me specifically, since Andrew was scaling the cliff over and over like a damned spider monkey) and later hiked up the cliffside on one of the many paths that winds to the peak; we saw some sea lions off the coast, which was awesome.

Less awesome: when I said "I do," only to learn that my roommate didn't actually ask me to marry him and the "MARRY ME" written in the sand below was meant for someone else entirely.  Awkwardness ensued.

Anywho, we did a little climbing (I got 2/3rds of the way up before wanting to shit  myself in terror!) and also saw dolphins, although they were out at sea, not on the cliff.

...lazy bastards.

Everyone there was a lot of fun and I was able to talk to them without freaking out.  (Go me!)  They were really low-key and even though it was a big group and I didn't know anyone, I had a great time.

 Once again, a picture whose awesomeness exceeds the physical boundaries of my blog's poorly written code.

At the end of the day we went to R.E.I. in Santa Monica to check out some gear (climbing shoes, mostly, though one guy needed a tent for God only knows what); we got home about a half hour later than we would have liked, exhausted but pleased with what a perfect day it's been.  Then Jack called and wanted us to hang out with us, and proceeded to get pissy when we said we couldn't come.

Speaking of Jack being pissy, we had dinner at his place, along with two of his friends, Anita and Jay.  Both of them are cool and seem like the sort of people I could actually be friends with.  (Two optimistic statements about people in one blog entry?  I must be losing my mind!)  But Jack ignored me all night for some reason fathomable only to him, and I ended up feeling anxious, drinking too much, and going to sleep on the sofa.  We're been snippy with each other ever since; Jack thinks I owe him an apology and vice versa.  (I already gave mine, but I'm still a little furious with him over the whole thing.  The idea of giving your alcoholic best friend with abandonment issues and social anxiety the cold shoulder while forcing her to hang out with strangers and then getting mad at her for drinking is so ironic that it wouldn't be allowed in an SNL skit for being "too obvious.")

I seriously don't think this is me because we've been to a few other parties and dinner soirées and get-togethers and shindigs and even a bruhaha or two since I came here and I haven't had ANY trouble except when Jack is around and acting like a tool.

 We had a great time at the White Trash Party, for example.

This is how you have fun, right guys?  Guys?  ...guys?

Anyways, time will smooth things out, I hope, because I loathe drama almost as much as I loathe it when I'm trying to finish this sentence and can't think of anything I loathe enough to make a humourous comparison.

In the meantime I have FINALLY been offered a job.  It's for a fundraising consultant for charity and, okay, it's like ONE step above being a canvasser, but the pay is good and the benefits are better and it's a step in the right direction and better than nothing so I'll take it.  Getting out of the house and over this ennui will probably go a long way toward curing my animosity toward Jack; as much as I like going to parties, I really need some structure in my life and I think ANY job will make a world of difference.