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Save Me From Me 02.24.04
09:59 PM • 9 comment(s)permalink

I dunno what's going on. I'm having these bizarre urges to be feminie. UGH. Make it go away. I got reweaved on Sunday and I'm usually good with that. But ooooh noooooo, some little voice in my head tells me that's not enough.

I go to the nail shop at lunch time today and endure the worst pain ever getting my brows waxed. Then, for the first time in life, I actually got a manicure. What possesed me to do that is beyond my reasoning.

I'm looking myself in the mirror and thinking, "Maybe I should wear a little mascara." I don't even OWN mascara. I wouldn't know what to do with a makeup kit if someone threw it in my lap and rubbed my nose in it. I wanna wear cutesy stuff instead of my raggedy favorite jeans and a t-shirt. As I type this....iown een wanna type....CAUSE I DON'T WANNA MESS UP MY MANICURE!!! Lawd halp me. I went to CVS today and bought Nair, a new razor, two different kids of soap and a loofa mit. What de FOK am I gonna do with a loofa mit? I don't even have enought body hair to shave off. Lak, make this stop now, k? This unusually warm weather is fucking with my estrogen level. How inconvenient.

Wouldn't it be the bomb if the ice cream truck took food stamps?

Why does Microsoft have a book on everything under the sun EXCEPT Publisher. I hate them.

Let's encourage people to leave their pets at home. I'm on my way to work, minding my damn business, when I look over and see something on this lady's coat. The shit is moving. I keep watching this thing and realize...it's a roach. A big ass, huge ass roach. This wasn't no tiny ass baby roach. This joint was the big poppa. I'm like WTF? Why couldn't she shake her coat out BEFORE she left for work. She needed a can of raid just for her coat.

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Over Reacting? 02.17.04
08:17 PM • 8 comment(s)permalink

I've been holding steady on my job search, with out much luck. I'm landing interviews like there's no tomorrow. I just need to land a damn job.

I absolutely hate it when an HR Director calls me back about a position I applied for about 3 weeks ago. It was for a well known financial services firm and I'm surprised I even got a call back. The first message left me feeling really uneasy, cause the guy that called sounded like he was trying to get a date, not recruit a potential employee. He used a very sing songy, playful voice and I really didn't care for that. Eventually, I am able to schedule an interview with his collegue, who was very monotone. He had the nerve to ask me what position I applied for. I told him I'm sure it was administrative. This jerk says, looking at your cover letter...blah blah blah. If he has my cover letter, what the FUCK was he asking me what position I applied for? The fact that they had more than one position open concerned me too.

I was in a hurry to get of the phone with this dude. When I hung up, I realized he didn't give me an address or directions. I call back and he tells me to arrive at least a half hour early to fill out various forms and have my picture taken.

**GASP**

Have my picture taken?!?!? I was completely befuddled as to why I would need to have my picture taken, since I'm not applying for a modeling or acting gig, just bs office work. He says to me, "Sometimes I forget after interviews and I would like to be able to associate a name with a face. I will also pass it along to the Executive Director, who you'd be working for." I say okay, but I'm still feeling uneasy and confused. I'm bothered by this blatant act of discrimination. There's no reason for them to have a picture of me during the hiring process. It's not like it's for a company ID; I hadn't been offered a job. There was absolutely no reason for that. I cancelled that interview.

I'm wondering if I should report this company to EEOC or something. I wonder how many other people feel uncomfortable. I wonder what gender or race they are looking to hire.

This has been an awakening addition to my Black History Month.

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Still Searching 02.07.04
07:57 PM • 8 comment(s)permalink

Here's Part 3 in the saga that's my never ending job search.

[aside: The type of position and salary requiremnts I seek are in my profile on the job board.}

I'm chilling at work on Friday, getting prepared to come home sense my boss was generous enough to let us leave an hour early. My phone rings. It's some recruiter chick that saw my resume on a job board and has a "GREAT" opportunity for me.


She is really selling this position. I'd be a Project Management Assistant, supporting a team at Northrup Grumman, one of the largest IT contractors for the government. It's close to home. I'd have a variety of things to do and there is potential for advancement. I'm getting all excited cause this is the kind of job I want to do and I've recently decided I want to head into project management. The kicker:

Recruiter Chick: Well see here's the thing. They aren't very flexible with what I can pay you. What are you making now.
ME: (Thinking of good lie) $36K
RC: Well see I can only pay either $13 an hour or $24K
ME: Really?
RC: Really. This would be such a great opportunity for you since it's so close to your home.
ME: The job sound perfect, it's exactly the kind of job I want, except for the pay. I have a friend that my be interested though.

I'm passing this over to my Baby Daddy. He need a job and he'd better call her too!

Now, if this chick saw my resume on the job board with it's accompanying profile, why in de hayle did she waste her time and mine calling me? My profile clearly states that my minimum salary is $36k. How she gonna try to offer me $12K less? C'mon. The position sounds great, but I'm not willing to take $12K less that what I'm asking for. If she woulda upped it to at least $30K, I prolly woulda taken her more seriously.

Then she tries to soften me up.

RC: You have such a great speaking voice and sound like you have a wonderful personality. I know you'll fit in well with this team. Northrup Grumman is a good company.
ME: This opportunity sounds wonderful. The pay isn't something I can accept at this time. My friend is interested. If you give me your contact information, I'll pass it over to him and he'll contact you to schedule an interview. Thank you for calling.

This chick has to be desperate to fill this position if she's willing to kiss my ass like that. There's no way in hell I'mma support an entire team of people for 24K. Been there, done that, and lived to talk about it.

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Tax Man Take All My Shit 02.05.04
04:57 PM • 4 comment(s)permalink

I'm annoyed right now and hate Dubya more than I ever have before. I knew what the out come would be before I even filed.

Last summer most people receive a check for the Advance Child Tax Credit. The operative word is ADVANCE. The leading word in the title of this credit isn't Grant, Allowance, or Free Shit from the Gobment. With that being said, my rant will begin.

When to the hellacious Jackson Hewitt to have my taxes "prepared" From this point on I must stick to my vow to never utilize on of these chains again. What the hell do I need a data entry clerk for? That's all these folks are. The software I used last year was much better.

I'm there chllin, trynna help Tanikka (yes my tax peparer's name is Tanikka and she had a pierceing in that spot below the lip) decode what the questions were saying. While I'm trynna teach this girl how to read (she couldn't type for shit either) people are fussin and hollering all around me. The rest of the patrons are outraged that they have to give back the ADVANCE child tax credit they received in the summer. I"m confused cause it clearly states that it's an advance. Advance means, "I'm giving this to you early, before you're actually supposed to receive it" I would like to know why these negros thought dubya was actually GIVING the people something. It makes no sense to me.

When I first heard of this credit, I was like "Oooh fuck." I already knew what the deal was before that check even came in the mail. There was a lot of buzz in the hood about it and I tried to explain to folks what it was really all about. Black folks didn't care. They're feeling that shit now. Black folks don't understand the importance of paying attention to what's happening around them

Dubya doesn't give a fuck about you, your cousin or the man next to you. The sole purpose of his reign in the House of Allusions is to line the pockets of his rich oil buddies while us average folks receive an unlubricated shaft in the anal cavity.

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Breaking and Entering 02.01.04
12:08 AM • 5 comment(s)permalink

[edit] In my haste to go watch porn, I forgot to provide and ending to my story. Sorry folks! Ending below.[/edit]

Because ~SunRay~ is such a trend setter, all of my friends are looking to buy houses and they turn to me for advice (like I know shit). The fabulous RMiller, the bestest guy in the whole world wanted my opinion on a townhouse he's considering buying.

I haven't seen RMiller for a while and was very happy to see him, and even happier to find out he's decided he wants to buy a house. I'm so proud of the man he's become: honor student, graduate of Bowie State University with a degree in computer science...honest, smart, handsome (NO KIDS)...all the things a woman would want. Enough of my gushing.

Anyhoo, we get lost trying to find this house in Upper Marlboro, MD which isn't unusual cause me and RMiller always get lost.

We finally find the correct street. We are passing huge, HUGE houses that look like something I could never afford. We arrive at the house he wants me to see and...the light is on. Seeing the light on made me not want to go in cause you can never tell who or what is inside of a vacant house. I check things out. As I'm wandering around the living room I here something beeping. I say, "RMiller, is there an alarm on this house at nite?" He's like, "Aaaaah don't worry about that." Um...K. We had a key to get inside, but hell, we don't own that property and really shouldn't be there. I wanna go home but I came that far and there was no turning back.

He took me on a tour and the house is very nice. The only minor issue is the unfinished basement, which can be taken care of fairly easily. The house does have some design flaws such as no dining room and a random usage of doors in the bathroom. There's the entrance to the bathroom from the hall. Once you're inside that entrance, there's another door that actually leads to the bathroom and another door that leads to the master bedroom from the bathroom. Count em folks: that's 3 doors for one tiny ass room. How much sense does that make?

As I'm wandering around this house, I realize that beeping sound hasn't gone away. As we are ready to leave, RMiller notices there is a car outside watching the house. I'm like "OH SHIT!" My mind is racing cause who ever is watching the house would still be able to see us if went went through another exit. While we're peering out the window Malcom X style, a damn cop car shows up. So here I am, in the middle of nowhere, MD, stuck inside of a house I'm not supposed to be in. I had no idea where to turn or where to go. We didn't even breathe. The cop car came closer to the house. So close it seemed the lights from the squad car were on the porch. I'm praying to any God that would listen to me. There is no way in hell I can call my mom and explain to her that I've been arrested for tresspassing or something crazy like that.

The random nosey neighbor drives off. The cop lingers for a bit then leaves too. We return the place to it's natural state and got the fuck up out of there. That wasn't as easy as it sounds being that there was ice every frikkin where on the steps and made loud crunching sounds. We manage to get to his car without falling, but damn if it didn't get stuck on the ice. This crazy tombout go push. Yah. Right. I coulda been so arrested. We left and didnt look back.

I hope he buys that one! :-P

Next time RMiller suggests we do something I know we shouldn't, Imma haul ass!

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