My Father is Insane.

On Thursdays, I work for my dad. My dad is a mushroom broker/gas station owner/vending machine guy/800 other things. If you've met my dad you know he is somewhat crazy, but if you haven't I hope this helps you get an idea about him.

The following is an account of my day. The minutes are kind of off because I was using different clocks and they all said different things, but who really gives a fuck?

9:40-I start my day by buying leases and monthly rental agreements at the office supply store.
10:00-Lectured about how I should know more about things like lead paint. I am given a CD about lead paint to watch on my own time to educate myself.
10:20-I go to the post office.
10:24-Told never to bring home the crap ads from the post office ever again.
10:35-My dad makes me lie to an old man and say he is not in the office.
10:36-Tell Dad I am going to hell for him and should get paid more.
10:37-Told by Dad that I'll probably end up in hell for something else first. No raise.
10:40-I get to put 9 bazillion one dollar bills from the soda machines in order so they are all facing the same way.
10:59-Touch a one dollar bill covered in human feces.
11:04-Take a soda order
11:05-Yelled at for being too slow
11:09-I try to take my first order for mushrooms. I get told to wait 2 minutes.
11:11-Still no call about the order.
11:13-Call to pester the man for my mushroom order. He is very alarmed to know that I am even less patient than my dad.
11:15-Get called "Sweetheart" by a man named Bubba. I giggle.
11:23-Get yelled at for trying to take a break to wash the shit off my hand.
11:30-Go to bank
11:40-Apologize to banker who has to count the 9 bazillion ones.
11:50-The gas light goes on in my car and I begin to hyperventilate.
11:50-Gas light goes off. Try to breathe normally.
12:02-Go to post office to cover up the mistake I made the first time I went to the post office.
12:05-Back at the office.
12:07-Introduced to same guy for 9th time.
12:12-The Canada Dry guy comes.
12:40-I fall asleep in my chair with my mouth open.
12:45-Motion sensor buzzes and wakes me up.
1:00-Load soda order onto a pallet.
1:16-Count the soda money from today.
1:19-Yelled at for being too slow.
1:20-Yelled at for my entire generation being too slow. (Thanks everyone)
1:30-Get to add up mushroom sheets on fancy calculator.
1:45-My dad calls his accountant to find out if it's illegal to be paid as little as I am.
1:46-Yelled at for being unemployed and working for peanuts.
1:47-My dad tries to get me to call the intern place so he can "break their balls"
1:51-My dad calls me a secretary. I tell him I'm a receptionist. We settle on receptionist bitch.
2:00-Get an actual compliment!! Am told I have gotten very good at monitoring the security cameras.
2:03-Some guy calls to buy my Jetta. (for sale in front of the gas station) He doesn't speak English. He keeps yelling "Yetta" in my ear. I pull together some Spanish and ask him for his number. He hangs up on me.
2:17-Lecture about how I shouldn't use peoples names when delivering messages. I get confused.
2:30-Try to fix motion sensor. I fail.
2:31-Dad fixes sensor in 3 seconds.
2:35-Yelled at for being too slow.
2:36-Told I wasn't as slow as usual.
2:40-I arrange more ones.
2:41-My dad makes me race against one of his gas attendants with the ones. I win!
2:48-The electricity goes on and off.
2:49-My dad says fuck a lot.
2:50-I sit outside and watch for cars who want propane.
2:56-I get sent home
2:57-Dad calls and tells me that I need to not be so slow when I work.

Oh, Rick Springfield.

Dear Rick Springfield,
Thank you for giving the world Jessie's girl.
Love,
Joanne

PS. You are saying the point is probably moot, right? You get bonus points for that.

I feel so...

I don't think I can write on this thing on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. All I want to do is write some emo whiny crap about how much I hate this shitty internship and how horrible a mood I am. Actually, maybe I can't write in this any day because I'm usually somewhat depressed and cranky. I whine a lot, but we all know that and have accepted and still love me dearly. Or just put up with me because I sing so well...

I seriously don't think I am ever going to get a job. Plus after this experience I really have no desire to try so fucking hard anymore. Can someone please get successful and need a personal assistant and/or secretary? I'd be really good at it, I have all the super Mom skills without being a Mom. I'm organized, I remember things very well, and if you are a boy, I will wear a v-neck shirt everyday.

2005 is the worst year ever.

Oy.

The priest that was in charge of my elementary school and church, St. Patrick's, until 1991 or 1993 or some year with a 199 in it, is among the priests charged with sexual abuse. There are lots of details in the Inquirer about the priests and charges from the grand jury's report. He allegedly molested two girls who worked in the parish rectory.

It's really weird. I don't remember too much about him except that one time he burped into the microphone a church while giving his homily. He had some health problems. The students really liked him. He also baptised my mom and my sister.

In other news that totally isn't related to what I just wrote, but this is my blog and I can do what I want and anyone who has a problem can just deal with it...I was really nice to a complete stranger the other day just in case I ever got stranded on an island with her. Thanks television for making me a better person! [Insert thumbs up here]

8 More Fake Work Days to Go.

Today I made 32 phone calls in an hour. I am NOT interning in telemarketing though.

I think I'm just going to become the manager of Wendy's or McDonald's or something.

I can't believe it either.

So, uh...I danced on top of a bar.

I did it for a free shot and a biker tried to give me a dollar and then the DJ called me a quitter for jumping off the bar after I got my free shot.

I also tried to invent my own country line dance. It involved a lot of stomping and clapping and twirling and it was really bad.

I really can't dance. I should work on that.

PS. New Harry Potter trailer. And iPod.

My poor boys.

Aww, it's not THAT bad. It's a pop song written by a 10, 13 and 16 year old! Give them some credit.

It is one of my least favorite songs they wrote though.

I hate my job.

Oh my motherfucking god. Remember when I was an intern before and I really liked it? (Except the sitting in the hallway by myself for 2 days a week and with a complete idiot 3 days a week and the no internet parts.) And it was good and I learned a lot and was generally busy.

This new intern thingie is so horrible. I hate it. The company does realllllllly boring stuff. The office in general is really boring. There is no pictures on the wall, no one has any pictures in their offices or on their desks. There is only one window, but no one can see out of it. No one talks to each other. You know it's bad when I am one of the more social people in a group.

I reserved judgment until I did more than one day, but it just got worse. Today I had to stuff copies into plastic sleeves for awhile because there was nothing for me to do. I don't understand why they need an intern at all.

Plus, my mouse for my computer works like my ass. And the R, S and H keys on the keyboard don't really work. You have to slam them. I sit in the hallway again, but it's a better hallway. It's like a central hub hallway.

It's sad that the hour long traffic-y commute is the good part of the day. Oh well, it's only 10 more days and I have a perfectly good excuse regarding commuting time and gas prices and them paying me shit for saying no if they offer me any more days.

And then I was 22.

I finally caught up to everyone! (Except Sara) I turned 22 just in time for everyone else to be turning 23. You bastards.

I usually like to reflect about my year on my birthday because I usually have nothing better to do and now that is especially true.

So, I think this year despite the occasional horrible-ness of it was better than my 20th year. That whole "people I love dying thing" stopped. I appreciate that and would like to keep it that way.

(Okay, so Ram just explained to me that really this would have been my 22nd year and last year the 21st since we all start at 0, but I am leaving the ages and years as such and you can change them in your heads.)

Compared to other years, 21 wasn't so bad though. I graduated college. I got my heart broken. I got a makeover. I made a really bad comic book. I realized that tequila is my Kroptonite. Wawa introduced Orange Cream Milk. I threw up in a bathtub. I, apparently, lost weight even though I still weigh the same and wear the same clothes from high school and totally don't see it, but everyone in my family likes to tell me about it... I probably ate my weight in sushi. I sang a lot of Disney songs. I kicked ass at Dr. Mario. I made a meal by myself that wasn't just something I boiled. I moved back into a bedroom that belonged to a long ago version of myself.

I learned a lot too, not from that whole university place though, those Lifetime movie style "life lessons." I learned how to be independent again. I learned about who my friends are and what kind of friend I want to be. I learned that I am not very nice sometimes and that I usually don't realize when I am being not very nice until too late and then I miss out on really good things and really good people. I learned I am a lot more like my father and my mother than I thought. I learned that this is both as scary as I thought and not as scary as I thought.

I have more, but I don't know if my 4 readers are interested. This is a lot more diary-ish than I usually am and I don't know if I want to share everything. A girl needs some mystery, you know. That's how she attracts the fellows, well that, and by giving blowjobs.

Basically, I had some ups and downs, but overall this year wasn't too bad. Thanks to everybody who played a part. Weee!

I want to ride my bicycle.

I think I'm going to just say, "Fuck you, people with companies who don't hire me" and start my own business. Perhaps a store where I sell things like um... Or a uh, company that does stuff. Any ideas?

I will totally hire any Drexel class of 2005 grad who has no job yet. To gain employment with me, you just need to write a super short paragraph saying what you can do that is awesome. But if you spell shit wrong, you are totally only going to get like 2 bucks an hour, so watch out!

I had something else I wanted to say here, but I forgot.

Thanks Drew.

So, if you search the terms "jugs" "rack" "hooters" and "melons" on Yahoo! the fifth result is for my blog.

I don't know if me writing this makes me higher on that list or not. But Ram did inform me that if you add the words "boobies" or "breasts" to that, I'd sink to number 10. I know I am quite pervy at times, but I really never thought I'd get an honor such as this.

I'd like to thank God and my manager and my publicist and Allah and my baby's daddy and the other baby's daddy, but most of all I'd like to thank Drew. Because of him I received this honor.

I barely made a blip.

I have a weird question. Does anyone else's bones ever hurt? Like a numbing ache throughout your whole skeletal region? Especially in the leg area? An ache so great it wakes you up and keeps you awake for hours?

Anyone?

Please someone say yes so I stop thinking that I am dying of something horrible.