My new job titles are "Individual Service Specialist" and " Respite Care Provider II".

ISS
"Provides in-home/community skill building to individuals with Mental Health Diagnoses.

RII
"Provides in-home respite care to individuals ages five through seventeen with a MHD.


This is the very very very basic descriptions of my jobs. Yesterday I spent 45 minutes reading and signing my life away. They now have access to my SS#, my bank account, my drivers license and my gf's name. They know every address I've lived at since I was two years old and chances are they watch me when I pee.

Just kidding...a little.

Both of my job titles came with three page long descriptions of duties, requirements, qualifications, etc. It's enough to intimidate someone. My mother is a "keyboard specialist" for Broome County Developmental which is a state run agency and she is basically a paper sorter. She goes on and on about how much useless and unnecessary paperwork there is for every single thing that every single client has ever done since they were out of the womb. My mother often rewrites her superiors work so that their wording fits the guidelines of what the state finds acceptable in their paperwork. My mom's a smart lady. She got a 100 on the civil service exam. But she doesn't believe in evolution. Go figure.

Sigh. And so it goes....

Two summers ago felly and I went to Wal-Mart and got two plants. One was a soft green plant with broad rounded edges and the other was a dark green pointy plant with long trunk like things. When we were in line checking out a girl in front of us had the same to plants and she said said that she got them because one was feminine, for her, and the other was masculine, for her boyfriend. I hadn't really thought about it like that...but sure. whatever.

I think both felly and I have discussed the problem of our cats, Max in particular, of have a taste for plants, so Spike was always being chomped on and had stubs where his long spikey tendrils should have been. But he lived. This morning however, he was murdered. I had gotten up, peed, and poured myself a cop of coffee before I saw the gruesome scene.

There was so much dirt I couldn't even see the plant anymore. The pot was upside and to one side, while I saw the large roots sticking straight into the air. The dirt was concentrated on one area but then spread in two to three feet in either direction. I sighed. Poor Spike. What a way to wake up. I got to cleaning up the dirt and discovered what was left of the decapitated spikey leaves that were apparently his masculine trait. Now nothing but a sad story to blog about.

So, we are down to one plant. This one, feminine plant has survived perhaps even more than spike did. We thought we were helping her when we put in the sun last summer, only to watch her slowly shrivel and get sun burned. Apparently she is an indoor plant and needs only indirect light. After her near death experience however, she came back and is now bigger and more beautiful then ever.

3 weeks of winter left. I am looking forward to spring so i can plant some flowers outside where they are (a little more) safe from my cats.


Oh yes. Notes on the job....

Had to get a PPD test yesterday...apparently they are checking to see if I was exposed to Tuberculosis...the nurses at the office were craaazay, in that women who work together kind of way. Then I went to the Social Security office on Sheridan which was a trip. Weird. This is why I hate the government. Oh yeah and apparently "they" think (ie. have in their computer) that I was born in California, when really, I was born in Oklahoma. How this happens, I don't know. My passport says Oklahoma...I have never even been to California. Ah well. And today I have an appt. for 45 minutes of paperwork. I have gathered my degree, my passport and the paper that says I have a social security card on the way. (e:janelle) says I get fingerprinted too. Maybe I will find out some more things about myself that I don't know.

I went to some health center on Sheridan and peed in a cup. It was definitely one of the weirder experiences of my life. A dude called my name from the waiting room and took me into a little closet of a room with a sink, desk, and separate (thank god) bathroom. He told me to take off my coat and wash my hands...I don't know for sure why I had to wash my hands before I went...but I did. I wasn't sure at first if he was going to make me pee in front of him or not, but I closed the door and he didn't object. It took me awhile to even get going...I had to pee cause I drank water before hand to be sure, but knowing that there was some dude just a few feet away from me creeped me out and gave me performance anxiety. But I finally did it...and had to remind myself not to flush the toilet because that, for whatever reason, would invalidate my test.

I set my little pee filled cup on the desk next to him and went to wash my hands, again. I came back and he was sitting there, looking around, rolling his eyes and not really doing anything except not looking at me. I was confused. Then he looked down and said "sign here for a negative result". I didn't realize they did it right there, so quick, tada you passed. Sweet. That guy must hate his job.

I talked to a woman from Human Resources yesterday and she was like, you need your social security and a copy of your degree. Uhhhh, I have no idea where my social security card is so I have to go get a new one on Monday and bring her the proof that says I'm a real live person. After three or four phone calls to my family back home, I found my degree and am having it shipped here in hopes that it will arrive by Tuesday when I have 45 minutes worth of paperwork to do. Good thing I already have a passport.

What is this? The Inquisition?! Is that what its like when you get a real job? I mean, I guess I can see cause I am working with kids and I will be representing the company so they want to be sure that I'm not a child molester or something, but holy hell.

Oh YEAH AND TONIGHT YOU'RE GONNA SEE SOME BREAKIN!

Battle @ Buffalo
7ish oclock
910 Main Street
5 bucks
Come one, come all
support the local hip hop community
word

So I just got a call from Heritage Centers saying that I am hired! As long as I pass the drug test...which shouldn't be I problem...i hope. This is good cause last night I discovered that I won't be getting any money from taxes this year and then felly broke her glasses and Ralphie just had to go to the vet for some three hundred dollar blood work and medicine. sigh.

can i just tell you how much of a worry warted first time mom I am? I was doing and all but then Ralphie started popping blood, sleeping all day and got this rash thing on his nose. I might have cried a little, telling him that we would take him to the doctor and he would be all better. yeah, thats me. haha. course, being the poor mom that I am, I opted for only the blood tests instead of the x rays and, of course, the blood tests came back fine. 200 plus down the drain. at least he is feeling better though...he is eating a "bland diet" of boiled chicken and white rice, which I made for him. Spoiled little shit. he loves it and probably won't be happy when he starts getting his regular food mixed back in.

Anyways, everyone cross their fingers for me and my clean system. I'll keep you posted.

In response to (e:joshua)

ug. i have to disagree with you. I will confess that she certainly was not the most inspiring reader on the planet, but the poem is beautiful and appropriate. also, elizabeth alexander is an extremely well known and highly regarded poet, theorist, academic, etc. perhaps it is a surprise to the (white) american public that there was a black poet reading at the inauguration that they had never heard of.


In general

"Say it plain, that many have died for this day. Sing the names of the dead who brought us here."

How many people were crying tears of joy? How many tears of pain for the many who died for that day, and I speak not of the men and women in the military, but the men and women who were brought to this country in the bowels of slave ships. who were not counted as entire human beings. who were beaten and murdered for protesting segregation. i am not being dramatic or sentimental but we have to ask ourselves what the tears are really about, and where have they been hiding? electing president obama, swearing him into office does almost nothing in the face of all that history. i kept asking myself yesterday, why... why is this such a "historical moment"? because the whites have opened the door and 'allowed' a black person in? i cried yesterday and i have to ask myself the same question. chances are there will be differing, but deeply connected answers.

i probably shouldn't have started this entry because i don't have the time to finish it properly. lets just say that i watched cnn for five hours and it made me tired. the complexities of this situation are too much for my brain and my heart to handle sometimes.

I forget who, but someone said that racism basically decides who gets to live and who gets to die.

"Say it plain, that many have died for this day."

So (e:fellyconnelly) and I got a Wii. Ralphie hates it. He barks and growls and hides under the couch. I don't get it. He usually doesn't pay too much attention to the TV but even when he does he just tends to cock his head, stare, and lose interest in seconds. But not with the Wii. And it's mostly when the Miis are on the screen. Weird.

I went to the gynecologist today. Don't worry, I won't talk about it. But I did want to mention the little packet I got about Guardisil. This is the HPV vaccine that there are commercials for. But this little packet comes with headphones and an audio player so you can listen to "a girl like you" talk about her experiences. Really? What happened to reading? There is an on/off button, and play/pause button and sound adjustment, and it is all just a little larger than a credit card. A little thicker obviously, but compact nonetheless. Strange indeed.

I also have to take an antibiotic. No Alcohol for like 9 days. Seriously?

Grumble.

I have taken back my not so nice things i said about the job i am now working. I have a lot of respect for people who do this kind of work. I know and love many people who work in this field. I also have a lot of respect for babysitters, although i do not wish to conflate the two.

so i might have done a search yesterday for "free tetris" leaving our computer with the same or similar virusy thingy that effs up google that we had...oh, a while ago. grumble. we have been running our own anti virus whatever and free online ones, but no luck so far. i am asking for suggestions aka pleading for help.

i have to do loads of laundry one at a time because, although there are two washers and two dryers in my basement, only one of the dryers sufficiently drys (dries?) clothes. i have three loads today. thats three and a half hours. plus folding. grumble.

felly and i had a loverly post christmas day together. as in, we spent all the gift cards we got for christmas. felly had a 50 for Old Navy, we both got a 30 for Olive Garden from my rents, and I had 70 for Barnes and Noble. we spent a lot of other people's money, and it was awesome.

I bought four books with my 70 schmackers. Four. Well, one of the books has four novels in one, so I guess, if I wanted to get technical about it, I got 7 books. Not bad.

For Pleasure (aka, non-fiction)

Octavia Butler - From Seed to Harvest (Includes Wild Seed, Mind of My Mind, Clay's Ark and Patternmaster)

Octavia Butler - Kindred

For those of you who don't know, Octavia Butler is one of the first Black Female "Science Fiction" writers...although to classify her work as such is a little misleading. She does deal with some out there stuff like vampires, the future, space travel and the like, but its always very socially progressive and fabulously interesting. I heart her like whoa.

For School

Black on White: Black Writers on What It Means to be White - Ed. David Roediger with contributors such as W.E.B. Du Bois, bell hooks, Zora Neale Hurston, Amiri Baraka, Langston Hughes, Toni Morrison, Ralph Ellison, James Baldwin, Alice Walker and a lot of other authors you should read.

The Michael Eric Dyson Reader by. (you guessed it) Michael Eric Dyson.

---

this book includes sections such as Theories of Race, Affirmative Action, Whiteness Studies, Afro-Baptist Radicalism and Rhetoric, Religion and Sexuality, Biocriticism and Black Icons, The Soul Musics of Black Folk, and Hip-Hop Culture, to name a few. It's a big book. I have never read or even heard of this guy before, but I have a strong appreciation for people who are both deeply intellectually theoretical and up to date on current cultural phenomena and are able to connect and intertwine them. I think this guy is one of those people.

I like books. A lot.

Oh and I have an interview on Wednesday. Word.

thanks to (e:janelle) for the chips and dip AND for sending me to the FAIL website. I found this gem there

i heard Gavin Rossdale's new music sometime recently and I was thoroughly disappointed. Bush used to be sooo cool and now he is playing generic poprocks music that is indistinguishable from the rest of the nonsense out there.

Felly had a theory. That once Gavin and Gwen got married they both started to suck. Gwen was also once so very very cool. Remember when No Doubt came onto the scene and there was Gwen with her combat boots and wife beaters (waaaay before Avril Lavigne)? I mean, Gwen sang with Sublime. Now that's punk rock. And now? Harajuku girls or whatever the hell they are and...hmmm...when was the last time we heard from her?

Now don't get me wrong. I like pop music...usually. I recognize it for what it is however, namely that you take these songs and listen to them somewhat consistently for a short period of time until you get to the point where you might have to kill someone if you hear them humming it one more time. Then, you wait. Wait and wait and wait, until you haven't heard the song in, say, two years, and then you listen with fresh ears. If you still like the pop song from back when, its a keeper. I love shitty music from days of yore. I think it speaks volumes about a moment in time. I don't care if people call it fluff or fabricated or whatever. Perhaps that what it is meant to say. At this moment in time the majority of American youth are listening to fabricated cotton candy music. What does that tell you? Think about it.

I will admit though, it seams we are at a loss for the greats these days. Where are our Sublimes? Our Pink Floyds and Led Zeppelins. Nirvana? Operation Ivy? When was the last time someone put out an album that you could listen to alllllll the way through? I am trying to think...there is Radiohead. Weezer. Oasis maybe? I am (perhaps unfairly) talking about hit toppers here. Oh, maybe I got it. People don't buy actual albums anymore, they just download singles on iTunes, watch videos on youtube (cause MTV is gone) and probably only listen to the first minute of the song anyway cause they are all hopped up on prescription drugs and soda pop and Britney Spears.

I am reading a book...one of those whoa is me I am a feminist who is addicted to man sex book. But she (the author, the main character, whoeveR) made a point that I thought was so true. We have it alllll backwards these days. We are more and more isolated from human beings and more and more connected to everything else we don't really need. Connected to the internet, to television, to clothes and shoes and furniture and Britney Spears. Consume consume consume. Feed me. Cause I am starving. But the problem is that what we are eating is...cotton candy. Fluffernutter. Britney Spears. Not our lovers, our friends our family, humanity. So we continue to eat, cause we are still starving. And perhaps whats more, is that such a statement is cliche. I can't even type it without feeling a little silly cause, well, duh, everyone already knows this, but yet, still, here we are.

Anyone scene Wall-E?? Sometimes when I think about the future, thats what I think about. Millions of human beings floating around with television/computer/phones/ipods (all in one of course) implanted into their little mindless brains. Worthless. Scary. Terrifying.