Home > Life or something like it > Entry 04/05/2006 03:07:25 PM – Mentat 264

Entry 04/05/2006 03:07:25 PM – Mentat 264

Time goes slowly now in my life
Fear no more of what I’m not sure

Searching to feel your soul
The strength to stand alone
The power of not knowing and letting go
I guess I’ve found my way
It’s simple when it’s right
Feeling lucky just to be here tonight
And happy just to be me and be alive

Love, in and out
Of my heart
And though life can be strange
I can’t be afraid

Searching to feel your soul
The strength to stand alone
The power of not knowing and letting go
I guess I’ve found my way
It’s simple when it’s right
Feeling lucky just to be here tonight
And happy just to be me and be alive

I guess I’ve found my way
It’s simple when it’s right
Feeling lucky just to be here tonight
And happy just to be me and be alive

Alive by Jennifer Lopez

     It’s been some time since I’ve sat down and actually typed out a journal entry. While I can readily admit that my block printing has gotten better, and I’m more fluid in being able to use it, I still lack the capacity to write as fast as I think let alone write out what I feel. Sure, the journals that I’ve been writing the last couple of months have contained the gist of what I’ve been thinking, feeling, and experiencing — they by far don’t contain all the kinds of information I would want to have put into print… Of course, the fun part is that I’ve got several weeks of looking forward transcribing what I’ve put into written journal into type, so that my journals are kept in only one place, instead of three.
     I’ve also put a little thought about backdating my journal entries and putting them on the various journal/blog sites that I use, but then I realized that only one out of the three allows for backdating — the other two only allowing for forward posting only — and I’ve made the decision that for the time being those entries are going to be kept local only and I’ll be posting as usual from this point forward.
If anyone’s interesting in knowing what’s been going on during that time — I’ll make a note in one of my future journal entries that I’m finished transcribing and you can get in touch with me through the routine sources (notes, e-mails, instant messages, etc), and I’ll put it together in the form of an Acrobat file and send it off accordingly…
     Lots to write about since the last time I sat down and wrote online…

  • Some of it has to do with the continuation of the five lessons I’ve learned: particularly about Will and Family…
  • Some of it has to do with the turn of events that I’ve gone through in the last couple of weeks since I’ve written that five part “saga”…
  • Some of it has to do with some of the things that have been going on within me…

     First and foremost… I’ve finally landed a job more to what I’m capable of, not to mention makes more than twice the amount I was making at Reese in Greensburg (including commissions). It’s at Brook’s in their support division. Unfortunately, this is a third shift assignment, which is going to be quite the transition given that I’m not used to working third shift, and there has been only one other time I had; and that happened more than 15 years ago. The thing is, I almost didn’t get the job because I never made it to the first interview.
What happened was I had gotten a map for the area on Mapquest (http://www.mapquest.com) that was backwards to where I was going. I ended up walking something like a mile and a quarter in the opposite direction. Knowing I was totally off, I stopped at the nearest Dunkin’ Donuts to ask where Jefferson Blvd was, and the woman working the counter had positively no clue. So she got the man working in the back (making the donuts) to give me direction. I ended up finding out then that I was off and had to walk the distance back.
     When I got onto Jefferson Blvd, I ended up asking at least three more places where the road was that I needed to take to get to the interview. Two of them said it was about ½ mile up the road near the Honey Dew Donuts (I think it’s a Rhode Island habit of saying that everything’s only ½ mile up the road). At the Honey Dew Donut’s they pointed back to the Service Connector. I decided against listening to the woman working the counter at Honey Dew and continued up the road.
     I found the road — about a mile and a half up the road from where I was supposed to start (T. F. Greene Airport), and just for giggles, I stopped at the store/shop that was at the corner of Jefferson Blvd and Service Ave, and the folk in there pointed down to the Service Connector to the airport. I pointed out the window at the sign and told them that “…perhaps they should pay more attention to the street signs on the road they work…”
     Unfortunately, by the time I got to the road, I was already an hour late, so instead of trying to show up and apologize, I headed back to the house because I was too pissed to try to be penitent; and I already knew my feet were hurting from the amount of walking that I did in the hour and forty I was out there. I also knew that they would be hurting more by the time I got home because I had at least another mile and a half to get to the Airport, and another mile by the time I got into Woonsocket to get to my aunt’s house.
     The ride home, I was fuming… I was furious… I was taking it out on myself because while I knew that I did everything in my power to get it right (and nothing did), I really should have tried harder. And the 1¾ hour drive magnified my taking it all out on myself, to the point where it was like an ADD episode.
     When I got home, I found out that I had another opportunity. Apparently the consulting firm that I’m going through had called looking for me, and when they discovered that I had gotten lost (thanks to my aunt telling them that I must have), they told her to have me call them in the morning.
     I called them the next morning, and they rescheduled the appointment/interview for Monday at 4 PM.

     I got to the second chance interview at least forty minutes early. I spent at least fifteen minutes sitting out the in car with my aunt and uncle (they ensured I would make it in time for this interview), listening to my MP3 player and getting myself truly worked up to nearly an anxiety attack, not sure how the interview would go. I remember waiting another ten minutes in the lobby until the woman that was supposed to interview me came in.
The strange thing about the interview was the fact that the woman that did the interviewing — Sue was her name — looked at me and got the distinct impression that she knew me, or that we had talked at some earlier point. I assured her that unless she remembered me from thirteen years ago — that she had me confused with someone else, as I hadn’t been in the state since then.
     After fifteen minutes of reading through my resume, and my explaining that I had experience in point of sales support, she thanks me for the time, explained that I seemed to be a good fit and sent me off with the usual words of “she’ll be in contact with my agency…” Of course, I immediately contacted the agency soon after the interview and relayed all the appropriate information — also explaining that the position is a third shift position. They told me that they would contact me the instant they knew whether or not I would be accepted for the position.
     At five minutes to six — I received that call and they told me I was accepted. I start Monday, and they explained that I would be starting the position at the designated time (8:00 PM to 6:30 AM) on Monday, and that the training would go on then.

     As of today, I haven’t received any calls from the agency telling me whether or not they have increased the amount of money for the position — but I’m going to call them tomorrow to see whether it’s the same or not. More on that as time progresses…

     There had been a bad turn of events that went rather interesting last Thursday, involving my coming home and fuming, and my aunt accusing me in the middle of my calming down that I had been “bullshitting” her about the job and about the interview. I flew off the handle, and instead of calming down, I got changed, stormed out of the house and decided that I would stay out a couple of hours, check out the gay club I saw downtown, have a drink or two, and see if I can’t simply see more queer folk in one place than I have in the last couple of years. I ended up finding another club over by the Biltmore, and decided on settling down for a couple of beers.
     Who did I see there, but Jon G. Lord, I haven’t seen him since I was working at Blue Cross/Blue Shield something like 17 or so years ago. While time had treated him fairly well, unfortunately he was three sheets to the wind, and was a royal mess. At first I tried to tell him a little of what had gone on, but when he was so bloody drunk and he accused me of lying about why I had come home, and where I had been the last thirteen years, I decided on just shading up and being defensive ’til he pulled one of his infamous run offs to go home… Which he did at about 10:45 PM or so…
     From there, as I had gone in and out of the buzz I had nursed and worked on from the Guinness that I drank through the night (apparently New England queer folk don’t like drinking the heavy hops beers), watching the boys half my age trying to get laid, trying to make out with their boyfriends, and try to dance to music that bordered someplace between the techno/trance I’ve gotten used to, and the pop that I loathe. I had also wandered around downtown a little, getting a feeling of where the clubs were in perspective to each other, and checked out a couple of them, without actually liking the atmosphere of the two others that I had gone into. I eventually returned to the club I had started with that evening, and continued watching the folk mill and cruise about.
     It was a fun time of observations, conclusions, and speculations…

     I think what made the evening especially memorable was the fact that as I was working on beer number four, I had chatted with a man that had come in with this rather loud woman that was clearly born and bred in Rhode Island (the accent was truly unmistakable). But the man I had talked with while being from here, had done the sensible thing like I had done and moved away…
     He was charming…
     He was a gentleman…
     He had the same birthday as my grandmother (and at midnight that night, it was his birthday)…
     His name was Jordan.
     I found it more than just a little coincidental that not only did he have the name of Rick’s son, but also had the same birthday as my grandmother, and clearly thought of it as some sort of IDIC omen that needed to be heeded, and spent the rest of the night chatting with him about philosophy, metaphysics, and a little about what he wanted out of life. I helped his friend out with Jordan out to his car so that the two of them were safe, and spent a little more time talking with him and ensuring everything was all right for the two of them. While Jordan had offered to give me a ride — and I explained to him that where I needed to be was nowhere near to where he was going — I did the gentlemanly thing and said good-bye and good luck in whatever he wanted and wherever he was going. I also gave him instructions on how to find me out here on the net (first name, pen name, surname, etc.)…
     Before he left, he gave me a kiss and a hug and left to get his friend home before she passed out. It was an awkward kiss, but it was incredibly sweet. And I was glad that it had happened.. It made the evening of me wandering about town that night before I could catch the next bus something to think about, and wonder where I’m going next…

     Well, I think I’ll end it here for the time being.. More to write about tomorrow.. Until the next time…
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