Monday, August 29, 2011

Of love and such things

This a poem I wrote many years ago, that I had forgotten all about. And while I can remember the relationship that I was in at the time I wrote it, I don't quite understand where this poem came from, of what circumstances in the relationship, brought these words forth. Funny when you come across old letters or poems you wrote in response to the person you were dating.

Rushing in,
The water,
Tumbling down the broken stairs,
Swirling around my feet,
And you are there.
I can taste your hurried footsteps,
Beneath my toes.
Walking down the long watery corridors,
I open doors and shut doors,
Red and black doors,
Like those of the child’s checkerboard.
And you are there.
I can hear your fearful scent drifting
In and among the dark, dark rooms.
Sitting in my soggy chair, in the living room,
Feeling your shortness of breath,
As you run through the sloshy hallways,
Searching for a way out,
Of my watery grave.
Playing with my blue rubber ducky,
In the yellow waters of my attic,
Smelling your drowning as you sink,
Beneath the depths of the ankle deep water.
Smiling as I let the tub water run hot,
Burning my hands,
Seeing your flesh cold beneath my fingers,
And knowing that you are there.
Here in my dreams,
My deep dark watery dreams.

A Sharing of Someone Else's Poetry

~ Stone ~

By Charles Simic

Go inside a stone
That would be my way
Let somebody else become a dove
Or gnash with a tiger’s tooth.
I am happy to be a stone

From the outside the stone is a riddle:
No one knows how to answer it.
Yet within, it must be cool and quiet,
Even though a cow steps on it full weight,
Even though a child throws it in a river;
The stone sinks, slow unperturbed
To the river bottom
Where the fish comes to knock on it and listen

I have seen sparks fly out
When two stones are rubbed,
So perhaps it is not dark inside after all;
Perhaps there is a moon shining
From somewhere, as though behind a hill-
Just enough to make out
The strange writings, the star charts
On the inner walls.

Sunday, August 28, 2011

Letters to People

Dear Morning Person,
I would like to inform. 
On matters of the heart: it matters, for any given reason, simply because it is the heart. 
On matters of the birds and bees, I'm not sure about this, as bee's sting, and birds sing. I'm not sure what this has to do with sex. 
On matters of love, well it mostly depends on if you are talking to a child.
On the matter of spinning tops, they seem to stop and tumble, but they spin in a different kind of way then, and I think that is the better of the two. 
On all matters that have to do with August, we seem to think August occurs in the summer, but someone once told me if you live elsewhere, winter, occurs in August. And August once lived down the street from me, and he preferred spring best. 
One can not mention August, without bringing up the matter of glass coffee pots. If ever entirely excited about a statement of a coworker, while working at McDonald's, and carrying two glass coffee pots, do not emphasize your point, by tapping them together. Usually a broom and dustpan is required after that. 
On the matter of people sleeping, well it should always be done with ninja like qualities; never noticed, except taken note of by the person stealing your TV. 
On the matter of written material, let's break that down, writ. ten. mat. erial. Similar to Arial the mermaid, but somehow unrelated. 
Well I thought that might be all, but I was just reminded of matters of the playground. Do not let the monkey bars fool you as they did me. I never saw any monkey's there, even if I tried to quietly sneak up onto the monkey bars. Pretty sure the monkeys were playing in the kiddie pool.
Always existing,

Dear Afternoon Person, 

I do hope the day is treating you well, but then can a day treat you well, or do you treat the day well? This is similar to the question of which came first, the mosquito, or the mosquito eating bug. And really, what are those large mosquito eating bugs called? Surely they have a name, and I believe their name might give some indication on other particularly good qualities they might have besides mosquito eating, but hence we shall never know of their other skills, until someone comes forth and confesses its name. 
And really, what's with logic? 
Sometime I question if I should stop and think. 
Oh, and in trying to share an interesting segment of a time in space with you. 
So, let's ponder for a moment the struggle we all try to justify in our heads of the meanings we put behind "need" and "want." I feel very right if I say "I need a purring cat in my lap right now." And people think, well she said she "needs" that, which means it IS a necessity, and they will quickly fetch me a kitty, although I did once have someone attempt to give me a puppy, as a cat was not readily available, but the damn thing only made whimpering sounds, and wagged it's tail a lot; odd. So back to my point, but if I say "I "want" a purring kitty in my lap," people assume that this is not a necessity, but only a desired state, and now I question if the person who got me the puppy the one time, misunderstood me, and thought I said "want" instead of "need."
So in all matters such as, and similar too, and of the words their, there, and they're, I think I might be done. 
Yours kind of truly, though sometimes I tell stories that are not true, but they have a small detail of truth such as when I told the story about the white bunny I ran over by accident. I told people later when I rolled my car that the bunny was the cause, although the bunny incident happened about a mile prior to the rolling of the car, when I went around a corner to fast, and fishtailed, and over-corrected, and successfully flipped my car upside down. You see instead of speed being the cause, which would have indicated the car flipping being my fault, I  simply placed the bunny at the corner where the fantastic flipping of my car occurred, and now people give me a hard time about "Oh funny, you can't run over little bunnies," but really I'm ok with running over bunnies.
For example, Goodbye, 

Dear Evening Person, 
This comes to you a little flushed, as I wrote this while cleaning the toilet. It's a little rushed as well, as one never walks to the bathroom, but always runs; to the bathroom that is; one does not always run. 
One time I had a cat named Squirt, and I loved this little adorable black and white kitty. Then I let all the cats into the house in the winter one day, when my mom was gone, and I noticed Squirt was not present in the warmth. I inquired with my sister, who generally didn't give a damn about the cats, but who for the most part was still aware of their whereabouts. She did not disappoint on her knowledge, but rather cruelly shared with me that "Squirt had been squirted." My mother had apparently accidentally run him over as she was backing out of the garage. I still don't speak to my sister these days about the private lives of private detectives.
I once minded my own business, but found that this wasn't very much fun. It was kind of like eating cinnamon graham crackers, but finding you were not particularly fond of the cinnamon, but would have preferred sticky gummy bears instead.
In the second grade I was sent to the principal's office, when the teacher discovered I had written fart on the back of my spelling book. This was an unpleasant situation, as the kid next to me, was doing time for hitting a kid in the back of the head with a bat. He seemed overly pleased in having done this, and did not seem to mind sitting in the principals office. I however; was told that fart was a very bad word, and I did not feel very good about my use of this word. The principal told me I was always to be a polite young lady, and never use bad words. I only wish I had misspelled fart, similar to the way I misspell thier all the time, and that I had spelled fever instead.
Well once again, I leave with hesitation, automatic updates, and poppy seeds taken directly from where they grow in muffins. 

Leaving the day. 

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Tiny little black bugs, with wings, and some have lots of legs....

So the other night, at my place of employment, which has some people sleeping behind closed doors, on beds, as such...
I had this guest who asked to speak to a manager, which meant very important information was about to be shared with me, most likely negative. I approach the guest, (and please keep in mind I am approachaphobic, where as I don't like someone approaching me, especially when wearing clicky shoes, or carrying an ax of some sort). Henceforth, the guest made a point of itching his legs with the bottom of his flip flops, and he told me that he had woken up to the feeling of being bitten by bugs. He then revealed the horrifying details with me that he peeled back the sheets, to see that there were little black bugs ALL over his bed. There was even a location where it appeared they had laid their eggs, and were milling about waiting for the happy births. Anywho, I promptly call engineering, and given the magnitude of the "creepy" factor, I decided to go up to the room with the engineer to investigate the matter with my own eyes. (I mean really who doesn't want to see the spectacular horror of a bed full of black bugs) So we get up to the room, quite promptly I might add, and the guest pulls back to the sheet to show me the worst of the worst, the egg laying gathering, upon, which very quickly, I become aware of the fact that it is black lint on the lovely white sheets. Oh, and it gets better, he had "collected" two of them to hand over gingerly to Engineering, or the tooth fairy, whichever came first. So Engineering, who quickly recognized the lack of life and "bugness" in these black specks, carefully placed the "bugs" on a piece of paper to take to his lab and further investigate under a microscope. The guest even explained to us that the one he saw had lots of legs, and one of the ones he collected had wings, (very tiny unmoving wings, mind you). The guest was moved to a grand room for the remainder of his night. The next morning, I had the great pleasure of checking this "gentle"man out, and he told me that the situaiton would have been much worst, had his wife been with him. (Ummm right, becuase she would have pointed out to you that you were blind, and that it was black lint, and that your were a damn idiot!) All I can say is, Yowzers, his wife must be constantly entertained, similar to when your child is 3, and believes that eating the sticky stuff off the floor is yummy.
~ I have to say, I was initially tempted to smash my hand down in the egg laying area, and say "Oh my god, they got me, they got me," and promptly fall to the floor, as if eaten by tiny black bugs.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Some poetry about... well you guess...

~ Oh, but I care about you a little more then the others, you're not the average ordinary.... You look good and have some personality. Oh the loss of you will be felt, as one without the other simply does not work. ~
(a lost black floral sock after the dryer ate it; and of always the thoughts of my connection with him, and potentially having to walk away) 

~ Every day I set out to maneuver around you, as your gaping holes of emptiness are an inconvenience to me. And so it goes, my expectations of you potentially ruining my day, if I should run across you. But today (at least there) you were fixed, and it made my day. And perhaps, tomorrow; there; you will be fixed. ~
(the plight of potholes; as well as reference to the many breakup's; and his learning curve of becoming better at smoothing the way, and making small changes) 

~ I feel you might snap at any moment, give way, part ways... You rumble as we go along, and oh how you shudder when action is required of you. It seems I can not ignore your protests any longer, but that I must fix you... or else you will surely leave me abandoned with your unyielding ways as you give up and part ways. ~
(my broken wheel, with a big 4 inch crack in it; and reference to yet again, him needing to make changes, big changes, and how he protests at making those changes with his own will, instead of requiring mine to be the driving force)  

~ Yes, I push your button all the time, just because you are the first in line; yet I cringe each time you rush up and volunteer to assist me to bring me to where I need to go. I quickly push their buttons and hope one volunteers; as they are much faster at doing what you do. You are slow and quite often smell. ~
(of the back of the house elevators at work; and ok a little reference to eager puppy dog ways, to be of help no matter what, even it means getting in the way.)

Saturday, August 13, 2011

So about the interview...

So, my interview on Thursday went very well. I was enjoying the interview, there was good questions, and good answers, and some laughs, which I think is good. The two HR people interviewing me mentioned towards the end of the interview, that if I hear back from them, that they would want me to come back in and meet with the HR Director, (the person who would be my boss). Well then the interview continued, and they suprised me and said, "lets go see if Linda (the HR Director) is available now." And she was. She a very sarcastic person, and I apprecieated her sarcastic take on HR, and she told me that in the 7 years she has been at that company 6 out of 8 of her HR consultants went on to become HR Managers or HR Directors. (Good money that is). So I am excited that she would be a great boss to mentor me on HR policies and all other things HR related. I got an email today, saying that I am one of the top candidates being considered for the job, but that they still had a few more interviews to finish up with. They plan to make a decision by the end of next week. That seems to be a really long ways away! So will this be the beginning to my career in HR? Will I find that I like as I think I will, or that I hate it, and only like learning about HR?
We shall see.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Ok, a little peek into the going on's in my life right now!

~ A person must always be in a forward moving action of achieving, challenging, and making change~
So today I have an interview for an HR coordinator position for a full service hotel here in the Twin Cities. I blindly applied for the job last friday, when an ex-coworker of mine text me (after almost 6 months of no contact) and tells me the hotel she is working at is hiring an HR Coordinator. Well, my initial thought was that an HR Coordinator job is not typically an entry level job. And well I have pretty much forgotten everything I learned in college about HR, soooo, I'm really not qualified to be coordinating any great efforts on any companies behalf!
Well, I believe, much to my advantage, I could not find the job posting online, and so I asked my ex-coworker if there was a direct email for which to send my cover letter and resume to, and there was. So without knowing the details of the job, I put together my best cover letter, and catered my resume a bit, and sent if off.
Then I hear nothing on Monday, yet first thing Tuesday, I have a voicemail on my phone from that company asking me to come in for an interview. I squeeled a lot and did some happy dances, and set up an interview for Thursday at 10.
Well, I am a procrastinator, so I waited until I was at work last night, to search one more time for the job posting online, and I Found it! And as I was reading the job description, I realized that I was not qualified at all for the job. It lists of things such as
  • Schedule, facilitate, and coordinate all aspects of the Hotel Safety Committee. (I really care so little about safety on the job, this has always been someone else's job. Safety bores me in more ways then one)
  • Facilitate the administration of safety activities and Worker's Compensation case management.
  • Handle ALL written employment verifications.
  • Insure compliance with OSHA standards.
  • And the most dreadful of them all was the last bulletin point of - Working knowledge of federal, state, and local laws, governing equal employment opportunity, and civil rights, Title VII, ADEA, FLSA, ADA, OSHA, FMLA, ERISA, and NLRA, etc.
So to begin, all those abbreviated laws in the last statement, yep, don't know what any of them exactly stand for. So I started off simply looking up what all those meant. (yep, I sure do have "working" knowledge of all the "stuff!") Then scheduling, and facilitating things, coordinating, oh dear.... All things I dream of doing one day, being super organized and in charge of making things happen, but I'm not ready for it yet. So basically is what I am saying is I'm glad I found the job description a mere 6 hours before the interview, so I can only fret and worry, and over-think how unqualified I am for the job for a few precious hours.
But in reading the description, I would be sooooo excited if I did go in and do (miraculously) well in the interview, and did get offered the job, as It is not entry level, and how awesome would that be to jump right into the career I want and start out above entry level! I am so excited.
May I do very well in the interview, and may this be the opportunity I have been looking for to get started in the HR field. May my Bachelor's degree finally start to work for me!
And well, pretty sure my deodorant is failing me with just less then two hours to go before the interview, so may they not notice my stink!

Monday, August 8, 2011

Motivation Monday

I've decided I will post on Monday's any quotes I have come up with up with for motivation, or famous quotes I really connect with to post. Today I will share some of what I recently came up with. It's good to start out Monday with motivation! If anyone has a good quote they would like to post as a comment, please do!

~ Having moments of self realization is amazing, of discovery of the reason as to why a behavior or thought might exist, and then deciding to do something about it.~ 

~ Bad habits hold us back, keep us held captive in their reality, and distort our perception of what self comfort really means. Self comfort should be something to be cherished, something that breaths new life in us, refreshes you, and leads to a happy life! ~ 

~ Be comfortable with being uncomfortable, with holding yourself to a high standard of discipline and self control.~

Sunday, August 7, 2011

Sunday Morning as Poetic Thought

On coming home, to discover that it appears as if though the lines on the highway have just been recently painted.
~ It would seem that the lines have just been painted, what path yesterday was vaguely defined, yet known completely; today, is stark white boundaries defined against unforgiving ground, only for you to travel over and leave behind your dirty marks, indicating lack of focus, and disregard to work begun. ~
(But in actuality making the reference to a person whom I know, who says he will begin the process to heal the demons in his soul, which would require attendance at a certain meeting, and to him, saying and saying, and yet when the day of the meeting comes, not following through with action, but giving disregard to the many conversations spoken.)
On going down to start my laundry in the apartment shared laundry facilities, and coming back up to my apartment to think fondly of Oreo ice cream I purchased a week ago, and left at my boyfriends house, and how I wish I had that ice cream sitting in my freezer for me to eat, instead of me having nothing to eat, when I am hungry and thirsty.
~ Omg. Am hungry, am thirsty, with nothing to obtain from my cupboards. Then a happy dance moment when the thought of ice cream came to mind. Off to Target.~
~ A moment recaptured, Oreo ice cream locked away in the confines of his apartment, now to be repurchased, complete with chocolate syrup, to occupy a frozen place, to fill up my empty tummy times. ~
On heading out the door to go to Target and looking down at my self to discover that I look quite dumpy in my work uniform, which I have not removed since getting off work a little over two hours ago.
~ Decisions, Decisions, for this tired hungry soul. Do I go as I am fully clothed in uniform or put forth the effort to change my clothes to blend in with the Target Sunday crowd? ~
On giving it some thought.
~ Tackiness I have disregarded in exchange for simple attire of a comfy pair of jean and worn tee. ~
On stopping by the laundry room on my way out to take my clothes out of the washing machine and put into the dryer, only to discover someone has removed them and placed them in my hamper and shoved them beneath a table.
~ Someone took my clothes out the washing machine. Weird thinking of someone handling my wet clothes. A bit uncomfortable when my undies are involved.~
On arriving at Target and begrudgingly realizing I need to use a cart, as I am out of bottled water, and wish to purchase a heavy 24 pack of bottled water. A cart is needed.
~ To roam the aisles, here I go, to not conform to your ways, I pull instead of push. This way you are to follow me, instead of me following your ever clumsy ways. Never to push the cart as you all do. ~
On making a decision outside of my original ice cream selection choice.
~ Oh Sugar Cookie ice cream, you got my attention, as your existence I was not aware, , and then the words “with a hint of brown sugar,” so enticed me, without hesitation I came to know it was to be you. ~
On exchanging a text message with my boyfriend, in which he inquires if it could be so that I will love the sugar ice cream more then I love him.
~ In due time she will know if sweetness is what she craves of sugar cookie goodness, or kisses tender on her lips and his arms wrapped around her tight as she dozes off to sleep. ~
On referring to all thoughts coming out poetically for the morning.
~ Is not the challenging of the ordinary thoughts, to be placed in poetic verse, to distort the simply meaning, to elongate the vowels, and add many more commas then is needed. ~
On eating my sugar cookie ice cream.
~ Oh how ordinary the sugar cookie becomes when blended in with sweet frozen vanilla ice cream. Frozen pieces you should not be, and what a disappointment that is to me. ~
On going down to retrieve my clothes from the dryer, only to discover my towel wrapped up tight in the corner of the fitted sheet.
~ Why is always the tender soft towel that is captured in the corners of your harsh reality? The one thing for which you give a damn as whether or not it comes out fluffy soft and dry for which all others can be hung to dry, as fluffy soft they do not need to be; only you. ~