Well I quit my job for reasons I'd rather not discuss in detail here. Let's just say I had a traumatizing encounter, and that I left due to unsafe working conditions. Have I mentioned I worked entirely alone in the laundry room? And that anyone could just walk back there? yeah, really not safe for a young twenty something female.
Well my father insisted that I quit. He's such a good man. I'm sure I'll find something else soon. I'd really like to work at this hotel on top of a mountain right off the Blue Ridge Parkway. The BRP was built by young men during the Great Depression. One of FDR's many great government sponsored projects. It's gorgeous, I mean ridiculously beautiful up there.
It's hard to imagine not living in the mountains. I've diagnosed myself with T.A.D, not sure if it's a real thing, Topographical Associative Disorder. I grew up in the piedmont of North Carolina. Gentle rolling hills, what a tease. Living in the mountains has cured me mentally in a similar fashion that it cured Heidi physically, in some movie I saw as a child entitled "Heidi". It makes me wonder what living in the Rockies could do for one's soul. Yeah I think I believe in a soul lately. ha, never thought I would. Maybe it's because I occasionally come across people with so much life and imagination and beauty to them, hidden amongst the robot zombie masses, that it seems like there must be a soul but that people somehow unconsciously detach themselves from it (God I use a ton of Run-on sentences on this thing, oh well). Or maybe I've just read too many Platonic dialogues. If you haven't ever read Phaedo, you may want to. Not to be a book title dropper, bluh, that's gross.
Has anyone considered how hilarious it is that the masses are obsessed with Zombies? (or is that fad already dead and gone and so 2009 or something? I don't tend to keep up). I mean I'm pretty sure the corporate/tv/popculture/advertising world has eaten a lot of brains. Is that what happens? Zombies eat brains and then the person with no brain becomes a zombie? sounds a lot like the American rite of passage to me. My only knowledge of zombies comes from a time when I was at this really crappy/awesome swimming pool in a blue collar neighborhood in Greensboro...ya know...one of those pools with rust tainted concrete and a sparse supply of falling apart plastic lounge chairs enclosed by a fence with permanently endented crevaces where teenager feet had landed over the years in order to sneak in late at night and go stoned skinny dipping with sweethearts. I was hanging out with these dreaded hippy chicks with lots arm pit hair. I didn't really know them, but I didn't really know any of the people I hung out with well in my early college confused/detached/misanthropic/pseudo-intellectual weirdness years. Anyway these chicks were playing "Zombies" in the pool and chasing each other around with their arms raised in the air and their wrists bent downwards with their fingers spread apart in talon fomation yelling "Me want Brainzzz" or something like that (parenthetical pop culture reference: The word "talon" always makes me think of Napoleon Dynamite at the chicken farm when he asks the farmers "Do the chickens have large talons? and yes reader, you're perfectly allowed to laugh at my weird pardoxes/ hypocrisy, like calling other people zombies and then making a Napoleon Dynamite reference) I took part in this game to some extent and I remember feeling a little uncomfortable, like it was hard to let loose and act silly with girls I took so seriously. They were very militantly political and lived in a commune and rode around town on bikes they built themselves with bumper stickers that said thing like "kill your tv" or "die yuppy scum." Yet they were having fun and acting like kids. It was like running into someone you normally only see in one confined environment, you know like your barista or bar tender or professor or boss at the grocery store when they're dressed more cozzily and are doing normal human things that everyone does like purchasing bananas or something. And you just feel weird seeing them outside of the one particular environment so it takes a minute to even recognize them when they say hello. (Not to mention if they dont say hi first its tricky to determine whether you should say hi at all, even if you see that person every single day.) It just caught me off guard.
Anyhoo, I watched this music video today and it made me cry. Well it stimulated tears but I'm pretty sure I wasn't crying due to the video. Life is just weird lately. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2BKUjnyf8uY
No self-pity here, in fact I laugh at myself every time I start to feel like I'm feeling sorry for myself. Just weird to be living in the town I went to college in after I've graduated. Just hanging out in a tourist town with a completely service-industry dominated economy. so many 20, 30 and 40 somethings just hanging around waiting tables and then smoking weed and drinking like fish in their spare time. I'm scared to death of complacency. I need to be more patient, it's as if I want my whole life to happen right now, as if my personal life narrative were one those cartoon flip books, with the doodled character in the corner of the page running as you flip the pages rapidly. Still I only need to slow down mentally, my reality is actually moving quite slowly. Maybe that's okay, maybe I should utilize this "in between" time to get to know myself a little better, get to know the world and my surroundings more intimately.
Well time to hit up craigslist for some jobs. wahoo.