It's June 28th and it's a tuesday. It's 3:04 pm in the afternoon and this is the way I will start my post, for lack of anything better to say. Not in a negative way. In a clear way. Like, a clear-minded, clear-headed, no crap to get in the way of really feeling something kind of way. I feel fresh and uncluttered. Unlike the sky.
In my kitchen the windows are wide open and outside there is a blanket of clouds draped over the sky; they are gray, and bright. The clouds are leaking copious amounts of water as I write, and every so often they open up with a streak of light stabbing through and then a booming roar. The sky is angry today. And sad.
But I have a smile on my face, a happy purple orchid to my left, low-fi minimal electro-ish stuff on the stereo, and some delicious strawberries my mother gave me in a bowl on the table.
This is my practice writing session. This is to force myself to write, write about nothing, write about a tiny block of time in my day where I'm all alone and it feels like freedom. This is when I know I should just write something, anything, for the sake of doing it. The day and the rain feel like magic. I smell verbena. The smile stays.
I love these huge old trees outside my window. This must be the best kitchen at town right now.
It's 3:12 and I work at six. It took me eight minutes to get here from when I started and I have almost three hours until I work. That's enough time to get into some trouble. Or take a nap. Options are a beautiful thing, aren't they?
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Cover letter for Editor Position at Living Social
Remember when I said I wanted to write again? Well I think it's starting to happen. I don't want to say it's pouring out of me... but there's a leak. There's definitely a leak. And it's getting bigger.
I wrote a cover letter today for a position in San Francisco with the Website Living Social. It's basically a website that offers a bunch of awesome deals on a bunch of awesome things, and I want to write for them. Over the next couple of days I plan on applying; you need a cover letter, a resume, and a couple writing "tests." Here is my cover letter, tell me what you think:
Dear folks at Living Social,
Pick me! Pick me! Pick me!
Whoa, sorry about that! There’s that darn enthusiasm again; it gets the best of me, every time. In all actuality, and to the surprise of those around me, I often have trouble containing it. I bet you might have had a similar thought. In fact, I bet you’re asking yourself right now, “was that really her lead sentence?? Did those words actually just tumble out of her head, bounce off of her keyboard and hop into this document? Is this cover letter for real???" It's for real, alright, you better believe it. And if you don’t mind, I think I’ll back up a second, take a deep breath, and start over.
Ahem.
To whom it may concern,
While perusing the Living Social website for daily deals on some delicious grub, bitchin’ summer swag and affordable salon services (my psuedo 80’s asymmetrical Flock of Seagulls haircut is quickly growing into an unsightly mess and desperately needs a mow), I noticed that there is currently an opening for an Assistant Editor in the San Francisco branch. Please don’t think of it as an overdramatic understatement when I whisper in your ear how much I want this opportunity to write for your website.
Much like a goldfish stuck in a tiny bowl, I can assure you that I have grown beyond the confines of this quaint little city I lovingly like to refer to as the ‘mento. I’m ready to break out and explore bigger ponds, swim with the big guys. I want to live in San Francisco and write for an awesome website that is chock full of amazing deals. Bargain hunting runs in my marrow; whether it’s sifting through old LPs in the Mission’s Thrift Town, scouring the Berkeley flea market for vintage Laurel Burch earrings for my mother, or rummaging through the dumpsters behind Sacramento’s Wonder Bread factory, I am a scavenger. Much like Living Social, I am always looking for the next deal, and much like Living Social, I am always telling all my friends about it.
I would be honored to be like you, living and loving and bargain hunting (and bargain catching) and writing about such sweet deals in San Francisco. I want to learn how to master the art of driving a stick shift on a 70 degree incline. I want to wear big baggy woolen sweaters all year long, have a picnic in Golden Gate park, watch the sun drop into the western sky, just below the golden gate bridge at China Beach. I want it all and I am ready.
I hope you are ready for me as well.
Thank you for humoring me and especially for your time.
Sincerely,
Jessica xxxxxx
Writer at heart, waitress by night, nomad by choice, human above everything else.
I wrote a cover letter today for a position in San Francisco with the Website Living Social. It's basically a website that offers a bunch of awesome deals on a bunch of awesome things, and I want to write for them. Over the next couple of days I plan on applying; you need a cover letter, a resume, and a couple writing "tests." Here is my cover letter, tell me what you think:
Dear folks at Living Social,
Pick me! Pick me! Pick me!
Whoa, sorry about that! There’s that darn enthusiasm again; it gets the best of me, every time. In all actuality, and to the surprise of those around me, I often have trouble containing it. I bet you might have had a similar thought. In fact, I bet you’re asking yourself right now, “was that really her lead sentence?? Did those words actually just tumble out of her head, bounce off of her keyboard and hop into this document? Is this cover letter for real???" It's for real, alright, you better believe it. And if you don’t mind, I think I’ll back up a second, take a deep breath, and start over.
Ahem.
To whom it may concern,
While perusing the Living Social website for daily deals on some delicious grub, bitchin’ summer swag and affordable salon services (my psuedo 80’s asymmetrical Flock of Seagulls haircut is quickly growing into an unsightly mess and desperately needs a mow), I noticed that there is currently an opening for an Assistant Editor in the San Francisco branch. Please don’t think of it as an overdramatic understatement when I whisper in your ear how much I want this opportunity to write for your website.
Much like a goldfish stuck in a tiny bowl, I can assure you that I have grown beyond the confines of this quaint little city I lovingly like to refer to as the ‘mento. I’m ready to break out and explore bigger ponds, swim with the big guys. I want to live in San Francisco and write for an awesome website that is chock full of amazing deals. Bargain hunting runs in my marrow; whether it’s sifting through old LPs in the Mission’s Thrift Town, scouring the Berkeley flea market for vintage Laurel Burch earrings for my mother, or rummaging through the dumpsters behind Sacramento’s Wonder Bread factory, I am a scavenger. Much like Living Social, I am always looking for the next deal, and much like Living Social, I am always telling all my friends about it.
I would be honored to be like you, living and loving and bargain hunting (and bargain catching) and writing about such sweet deals in San Francisco. I want to learn how to master the art of driving a stick shift on a 70 degree incline. I want to wear big baggy woolen sweaters all year long, have a picnic in Golden Gate park, watch the sun drop into the western sky, just below the golden gate bridge at China Beach. I want it all and I am ready.
I hope you are ready for me as well.
Thank you for humoring me and especially for your time.
Sincerely,
Jessica xxxxxx
Writer at heart, waitress by night, nomad by choice, human above everything else.
hit me and i'll hit you back
"The thing that gets me about relationships is how far down they can go and with such a quickness."
Is what I just wrote for my Facebook status. Should I have gone there? Well, I did. I went there anyway.
I'm going to go outside and ride my bike now.
And I'll probably continue to listen yet another amazing album by Grizzly Bear, Veckatimest. My friend Trevor Caldwell from New York sorta knows some of these guys. Here's a little snippet for you (and it's not even the best track on there):
Is what I just wrote for my Facebook status. Should I have gone there? Well, I did. I went there anyway.
I'm going to go outside and ride my bike now.
And I'll probably continue to listen yet another amazing album by Grizzly Bear, Veckatimest. My friend Trevor Caldwell from New York sorta knows some of these guys. Here's a little snippet for you (and it's not even the best track on there):
life plans
Do you know what a cupie doll is? It's a tiny little plastic cherub doll with a little curly cue strand of hair plopped on the top of it's head; arms stretched out from it's sides as if it's about to give you a tiny plastic hug, fingers fanned, spine long and straight, eyes facing forward, placid.
My ex and I used to hide one, for the other to find, as a game. We would put it in strange places; the fridge, the microwave, on top of the shower doors, nestled amongst the green fronds of a fern. Today I walked outside and saw it on my porch.
I don't know how long it's been since I got of this relationship but I know it hasn't been too long.I know it hasn't been too long but I know it's been long enough to start taking steps forward. Hell, I'm running. I also know that this time I'm not going back. It's like a sad, bad 80s song - one that starts slowing down and getting quieter toward the end, but that ends up turning around when it's almost at a dead stop and bolting. I am looking forward, not looking back, scared to death of what might happen if I stop to turn around. Just imagine it like that nasty clown from Stephen King's It is back there and means business.
We were together in total almost 2 years. 2 more years, gone. That's the reality of the situation, isn't it? I won't say that I didn't learn anything from that time, of course I won't say that. If you were to ask me right now, what did you learn, what would I say? That's important to know. Let's see... I learned that love is not enough, and I learned the sadness of having to give up something you do love because it's failed. We tried really hard, both of us, but there were bigger issues that first needed to be dealt with. I'm ok with that. I just had to draw the line somewhere.
I'm trying to hold my head up high, as I write this. 2 years is a nice big chunk of time. I'm 31. It would be a lie if I said that I'm beginning to wonder, so I'll say I'll continue to wonder, because I have been, wondering, that is. What am I doing with my life?
I know I need to move into a direction, but which one? So, yes, of course I've traveled, I've even lived abroad for a year, ya know? I currently live in the same city I grew up in, albeit, I grew up in a 'burb and I'm now in the heart of midtown. I've lived down here for just about 2 years. I'm afraid the fun is starting to wear out. I work at a restaurant yet I have a Bachelor's Degree. I can tell myself that it doesn't matter what you do as long as you're happy until I'm blue in the face (and don't get me wrong, I still mean it) but maybe I'd be happier, feel more fulfilled, if I was somewhere else, doing something else. Luckily, I have some thoughts on the matter. My two ideas are this (I'm sorry Ines):
1. Teach English in Taiwan or
2. Get an interesting writing job in San Francisco.
Notice how Berlin didn't make the cut? I think I might like to check somewhere else out.
I saw that a website called Living Social is hiring writer's in the San Francisco area. Do you think I could use my blog to show off my writing skills? (cough! cough! hack!) Or maybe I should just get out that old portfolio of those clips and blow off the dust. Either rate, I'm practicing, and it feels good.
My ex and I used to hide one, for the other to find, as a game. We would put it in strange places; the fridge, the microwave, on top of the shower doors, nestled amongst the green fronds of a fern. Today I walked outside and saw it on my porch.
I don't know how long it's been since I got of this relationship but I know it hasn't been too long.I know it hasn't been too long but I know it's been long enough to start taking steps forward. Hell, I'm running. I also know that this time I'm not going back. It's like a sad, bad 80s song - one that starts slowing down and getting quieter toward the end, but that ends up turning around when it's almost at a dead stop and bolting. I am looking forward, not looking back, scared to death of what might happen if I stop to turn around. Just imagine it like that nasty clown from Stephen King's It is back there and means business.
We were together in total almost 2 years. 2 more years, gone. That's the reality of the situation, isn't it? I won't say that I didn't learn anything from that time, of course I won't say that. If you were to ask me right now, what did you learn, what would I say? That's important to know. Let's see... I learned that love is not enough, and I learned the sadness of having to give up something you do love because it's failed. We tried really hard, both of us, but there were bigger issues that first needed to be dealt with. I'm ok with that. I just had to draw the line somewhere.
I'm trying to hold my head up high, as I write this. 2 years is a nice big chunk of time. I'm 31. It would be a lie if I said that I'm beginning to wonder, so I'll say I'll continue to wonder, because I have been, wondering, that is. What am I doing with my life?
I know I need to move into a direction, but which one? So, yes, of course I've traveled, I've even lived abroad for a year, ya know? I currently live in the same city I grew up in, albeit, I grew up in a 'burb and I'm now in the heart of midtown. I've lived down here for just about 2 years. I'm afraid the fun is starting to wear out. I work at a restaurant yet I have a Bachelor's Degree. I can tell myself that it doesn't matter what you do as long as you're happy until I'm blue in the face (and don't get me wrong, I still mean it) but maybe I'd be happier, feel more fulfilled, if I was somewhere else, doing something else. Luckily, I have some thoughts on the matter. My two ideas are this (I'm sorry Ines):
1. Teach English in Taiwan or
2. Get an interesting writing job in San Francisco.
Notice how Berlin didn't make the cut? I think I might like to check somewhere else out.
I saw that a website called Living Social is hiring writer's in the San Francisco area. Do you think I could use my blog to show off my writing skills? (cough! cough! hack!) Or maybe I should just get out that old portfolio of those clips and blow off the dust. Either rate, I'm practicing, and it feels good.
Thursday, June 09, 2011
I want to write again so I'm going to sit down and force myself to do it. I want to write again because I know how cathartic it can be for a person, for me. I want to write again because I get sick of the stagnance that has overtaken my life lately. I want to write again because I miss the feeling of a keyboard under my fingers and the solitude that is my quiet self-made sanctuary. I want to write again because I can feel the desperation swelling and building inside of me as my chest rises and falls and my breaths become deeper and panicked and I want to try and avoid this. I'll write about all the reasons why I want to write but I won't actually do it. Screw it, I suppose this is a start.
It's been a year. It's been over a year. It's been at least a good half a year that I even typed my blog address into the browser. It's been one year two months and 27 days since I last wrote something. Ok, so I wrote shopping lists and short emails and facebook status updates but it's been one year two months and 27 days since I last wrote something. How amazing is that? What the hell happened to me?
I'm warming up a little now. I'm talking now about my non-writing phase - shall we call it a dry spell? It was in ways; it was a creativity dry spell. I'm certain of it. I got good at ignoring the blog. Hell I even got good at blocking it out entirely. I was dealing with other stuff. Relationship stuff, if you must know. Relationship stuff that was assumedly blocking my creative juices. This is really the only conclusion that I can come to. The relationship was like fat and chemical residue buildup crap (or whatever the hell gets stuck in those little tubes) clogging your coronary artery. Pretty soon I needed a bypass. (and stop. pause for 6 minutes).
6 minutes later...
Too much personal stuff grinds my fingers to a halt. Maybe it makes me think too hard, so I sit here and stare at the screen and read and re-read the words and just stop. I just stop and sit here and I'm almost certain it's over. The juices are dry. The motor has stopped. It was very hard to restart. I was very close to saving the entry and turning off the laptop and resuming the movie that I had just started before I switched gears and turned on the computer. But then I think, "I am going to make myself write." And I remind myself that it doesn't have to be about personal stuff, it doesn't have to be about anything, it just needs to be. So I will steer this in a different direction for now and finally relay the thought that kick started this whole entry.
I saw today on Facebook that a friend of mine from high school is going to Seoul, Korea, to teach English. She leaves Sunday. There must come a point in my life where I do this. Not necessarily teach English in Seoul, South Korea, but teach English overseas somewhere. It's been something I've been wanting to do for quite a long time, and I'm sure I've mentioned it here a few times. I first started thinking seriously about going to Korea (that was with an ex), then it was Taiwan (that was with another ex), but the truth is, I don't really care where I go, I just want to go. And I want to go alone. I know I will dig it.
I better get on that though, I'm 31! Where does the time go?
Is there anything that you know you have to do in your life? You're just so certain that you must do it, and you're so sure that if you don't, you will regret it for the rest of your life? Maybe this sounds silly, but where some might say having children or getting married, I say teach English abroad. I think it's that thing that I have to do. Does that sound weird to you? I guess in all actuality, it doesn't really even matter how it sounds to you, does it? Nike was right. Just do it.
It's been a year. It's been over a year. It's been at least a good half a year that I even typed my blog address into the browser. It's been one year two months and 27 days since I last wrote something. Ok, so I wrote shopping lists and short emails and facebook status updates but it's been one year two months and 27 days since I last wrote something. How amazing is that? What the hell happened to me?
I'm warming up a little now. I'm talking now about my non-writing phase - shall we call it a dry spell? It was in ways; it was a creativity dry spell. I'm certain of it. I got good at ignoring the blog. Hell I even got good at blocking it out entirely. I was dealing with other stuff. Relationship stuff, if you must know. Relationship stuff that was assumedly blocking my creative juices. This is really the only conclusion that I can come to. The relationship was like fat and chemical residue buildup crap (or whatever the hell gets stuck in those little tubes) clogging your coronary artery. Pretty soon I needed a bypass. (and stop. pause for 6 minutes).
6 minutes later...
Too much personal stuff grinds my fingers to a halt. Maybe it makes me think too hard, so I sit here and stare at the screen and read and re-read the words and just stop. I just stop and sit here and I'm almost certain it's over. The juices are dry. The motor has stopped. It was very hard to restart. I was very close to saving the entry and turning off the laptop and resuming the movie that I had just started before I switched gears and turned on the computer. But then I think, "I am going to make myself write." And I remind myself that it doesn't have to be about personal stuff, it doesn't have to be about anything, it just needs to be. So I will steer this in a different direction for now and finally relay the thought that kick started this whole entry.
I saw today on Facebook that a friend of mine from high school is going to Seoul, Korea, to teach English. She leaves Sunday. There must come a point in my life where I do this. Not necessarily teach English in Seoul, South Korea, but teach English overseas somewhere. It's been something I've been wanting to do for quite a long time, and I'm sure I've mentioned it here a few times. I first started thinking seriously about going to Korea (that was with an ex), then it was Taiwan (that was with another ex), but the truth is, I don't really care where I go, I just want to go. And I want to go alone. I know I will dig it.
I better get on that though, I'm 31! Where does the time go?
Is there anything that you know you have to do in your life? You're just so certain that you must do it, and you're so sure that if you don't, you will regret it for the rest of your life? Maybe this sounds silly, but where some might say having children or getting married, I say teach English abroad. I think it's that thing that I have to do. Does that sound weird to you? I guess in all actuality, it doesn't really even matter how it sounds to you, does it? Nike was right. Just do it.
Friday, May 07, 2010
May 7, 2010
I need a change, stat. My life isn't working for me right now. I feel stagnant, stuck. My good friend's sudden and spontaneous decision to relocate to Sacramento (she'll be moving in with me) from Santa Cruz, where she's lived for the last 6 or so years, has prompted me to make the change that's necessary in my life. Perhaps not prompted, but pushed. My mind has been going back and forth about my current relationship. What do I do? My heart is still in it, but it's slowly crawling away, pulling back. I love him, but it's not working. It hasn't been working. I know he might read this, chances are, he will someday soon, but I've just got to write, got to get it out. I've got to end it.
My friend from Santa Cruz will be moving in with me. She has her choice of 2 - count 'em - 2 very comfortablevintage sofas in the living room. The gurgle of the fishtank pump will lull her to sleep. The morning sun will wake her up, shining through the wall-sized living room window. It will be cozy. It'll be a house full of single girls. Think positive energy, home-cooked dinners, and parallel menstrual cycles. Our place will smell like lavender or vanilla, perhaps with the faint hint of reefer in the air. That's how we'll roll.
So she'll move away from the place she's called home for the past 6 years, probably more like 7 or 8 really, and I'll do what I need to do in my life to free myself of this feeling of non-progression. It's just like, you can try and try and try and try and try and sometimes you have to admit that maybe it just won't happen, the thing you want to happen. And it breaks your heart. But you just can't go on like this.
We're hiring at the restaurant where I work; she's going to drive to Sacramento on Monday, hopefully in time for an interview. I don't want to get my hopes up, but I guess they already are. I think it would be wonderful to have my friend in town.
I still want to return to Germany one day. That's my goal. Save up enough money, pay down the debt, and go teach English. Hell, I'd even be down to go back with the pub crawl, if they'd have me. Until then, I can feel good about being here, in this city, surrounded by these people. Some of my closest friends are my co-workers. It's ok, where I am, right now. There's just that one thing... Which I promised myself to change. So I'm just going to have to do it.
My friend from Santa Cruz will be moving in with me. She has her choice of 2 - count 'em - 2 very comfortable
So she'll move away from the place she's called home for the past 6 years, probably more like 7 or 8 really, and I'll do what I need to do in my life to free myself of this feeling of non-progression. It's just like, you can try and try and try and try and try and sometimes you have to admit that maybe it just won't happen, the thing you want to happen. And it breaks your heart. But you just can't go on like this.
We're hiring at the restaurant where I work; she's going to drive to Sacramento on Monday, hopefully in time for an interview. I don't want to get my hopes up, but I guess they already are. I think it would be wonderful to have my friend in town.
I still want to return to Germany one day. That's my goal. Save up enough money, pay down the debt, and go teach English. Hell, I'd even be down to go back with the pub crawl, if they'd have me. Until then, I can feel good about being here, in this city, surrounded by these people. Some of my closest friends are my co-workers. It's ok, where I am, right now. There's just that one thing... Which I promised myself to change. So I'm just going to have to do it.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Fried Chicken and Macaroni & Cheese
Sounds so gosh darn good to me right now. People in Sacramento, have you ever been to Sandra Dee's? I used to live right by it, in Alkali Flats, a lower-income (ok, yes, slightly worn out and tore back) area of Sacramento. Is it even considered midtown? I guess now. I was at 13th and D, Sandra Dee's is at
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Sometimes when I'm bored...
I visit my blog and read about the things I was thinking about in days past. Sometimes I hit the "next blog" button at the top of the screen; I usually don't find anything worth reading. Today, though, as I was revisiting my (admittedly neglected) blog, I hit that button and found this: http://pillowtalkisextra.blogspot.com/
It's pretty cool, written by a young 20-something gal in New York City. Hers is a much more personal blog, and many entries deal with men and the problems that come with them, but I like her writing. It's snappy. Kinda like how I think about my own. There's no photo associated with the blog, but given the subject matter, I can understand why she would value her anonymity.
So I read other people's blogs, but I don't keep up with my own. In past entries, I spoke so much of projects, this website that I was going to build, the idea that I could create an awesome space for people to communicate about conscious travel. Sadly, It's still not formed into anything. It makes me feel like I've failed myself. It reminds me of what I need to be doing right now, what I should have been doing for a while. I don't like this feeling of guilt, self guilt. I haven't really let anyone down except for myself. So I don't know if that's better or worse than letting down another person.
I should be devoting more time to building websites, finishing projects, and helping my family. My father has all this radio equipment gathering dust in the garage on the property they own. Some of it's pretty valuable too, or at least could get a pretty price in an online auction. These are the things I need to do.
Usually writing helps me. It helps my thought process gather in one place, from a jumbled together pile in my brain to a linear, succinct story on a page. In note form. Do this, remember that, be grateful for this, and so on. The problem is, unlike Cleopatra Jones, the author (pseudonym, I can only assume) of the aforementioned pillow talk blog, I can't share with you what's really on my mind. It's relationship stuff. I guess that's all I can say.
I have figured out one thing, though, and I would like to share it. If you love something, let it go. Be gentle and don't hold on too tightly.
It's pretty cool, written by a young 20-something gal in New York City. Hers is a much more personal blog, and many entries deal with men and the problems that come with them, but I like her writing. It's snappy. Kinda like how I think about my own. There's no photo associated with the blog, but given the subject matter, I can understand why she would value her anonymity.
So I read other people's blogs, but I don't keep up with my own. In past entries, I spoke so much of projects, this website that I was going to build, the idea that I could create an awesome space for people to communicate about conscious travel. Sadly, It's still not formed into anything. It makes me feel like I've failed myself. It reminds me of what I need to be doing right now, what I should have been doing for a while. I don't like this feeling of guilt, self guilt. I haven't really let anyone down except for myself. So I don't know if that's better or worse than letting down another person.
I should be devoting more time to building websites, finishing projects, and helping my family. My father has all this radio equipment gathering dust in the garage on the property they own. Some of it's pretty valuable too, or at least could get a pretty price in an online auction. These are the things I need to do.
Usually writing helps me. It helps my thought process gather in one place, from a jumbled together pile in my brain to a linear, succinct story on a page. In note form. Do this, remember that, be grateful for this, and so on. The problem is, unlike Cleopatra Jones, the author (pseudonym, I can only assume) of the aforementioned pillow talk blog, I can't share with you what's really on my mind. It's relationship stuff. I guess that's all I can say.
I have figured out one thing, though, and I would like to share it. If you love something, let it go. Be gentle and don't hold on too tightly.
Thursday, March 04, 2010
Wednesday, March 03, 2010
Jury Duty
I got a letter in the mail from the city the other day calling me for jury duty. I'm supposed to report the the Sacramento Superior Court on Monday, March 15. Perhaps if I were older and retired with nothing better to do than reading crime mysteries, golfing on the weekend or knitting, I'd be into it. It might be interesting, a witness to our legal system at (dis)work.
Unfortunately, I need to keep working to pay the bills.
Crap. I need to get out of Jury Duty!
Unfortunately, I need to keep working to pay the bills.
Crap. I need to get out of Jury Duty!
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
I was going to leave a comment on the post below, one in response to those who commented on my blog, so I started writing. But that comment turned into an essay, so I've decide I would just post it, anyway, as a new blog. It's been forever since I've written anything, After thinking about it, I think I'll be heading back to Berlin before I end up in Asia.
However, that doesn't mean that I'll never go; on the contrary, one item on my top ten list of things to do before I die: teach English in Asia. Someplace that will just blow your mind. Some town tucked away in lush green hills or a gaping, writhing, technologically pregnant super city with concrete rectangles that scrape the sky.
It'll be different from what we're used to in Western culture, and you know what they say friends, different is good. Navigating your new Asian territory that may make you burst out laughing even though you're alone, or leave you clutching your hanky in tears of frustration. Either way, culture shock only makes you smarter. Nothing is familiar, you have little to no advantage to knowing much about the city.
However, that doesn't mean that I'll never go; on the contrary, one item on my top ten list of things to do before I die: teach English in Asia. Someplace that will just blow your mind. Some town tucked away in lush green hills or a gaping, writhing, technologically pregnant super city with concrete rectangles that scrape the sky.
It'll be different from what we're used to in Western culture, and you know what they say friends, different is good. Navigating your new Asian territory that may make you burst out laughing even though you're alone, or leave you clutching your hanky in tears of frustration. Either way, culture shock only makes you smarter. Nothing is familiar, you have little to no advantage to knowing much about the city.
Friday, November 27, 2009
Dirty Thirty
My 30th birthday is knocking at my door. It's right around the corner and about to bite me on my ass.
Monday I'll be 30, launching myself into my third decade as a human being on this planet. Perhaps for a lack of anything else to do and a little bit of time on my hands, I've decided I should dedicate a blog entry to the subject. It is, after all, a big deal, isn't it? Eh, I think not. It's just another day, the sun will rise and it will probably be chilly, a breeze might hang off the skeletal branches on the tree above our house, but it will set, and time will go on, and the day will pass and another will come. I'm not the only one with a birthday, and if anything, I should be celebrating my parents on that day.
I'm still here, which is nice. I think, all in all, I'm doing quite well. I feel I've been blessed so far, with family and friends and the things I love all gathered in heaps around me. I lucked out.
I'm back living in Sacramento, not downtown but in east Sac, where the trees are much prettier this time of year and you don't so often see derelicts rummaging through your garbage bins or hear the 2am bar crowd stumbling home drunk in the moonlight. Nothing against derelicts. I have a job and I'm making money. I'm keeping on top of my bills, not just barely but kinda almost.. My lifestyle is simple though, and I don't find myself wanting much, at least not in the material sense. I dream of travel but I'll always dream of that. Anyway, it's nice to dream of something.
Next year I'm planning on moving abroad again. I'll be honest and admit that I don't know where I'll end up or what I'll be doing, but I know one thing - I'll be gone. Chances are, I won't be going alone. I've found someone who also dreams, and, low and behold, dreams of very similar things. He's open to embracing mine and merging his to make an ours. Sweet! And just how long have I been looking for this??
Berlin is in the race, natürlich, but so is teaching English in Asia. Tawain sounds promising, as does Vietnam. For many of those jobs, only a Bachelor's degree is required, and often times, a salary accompanies room and board and sometimes a round trip flight.
Really, what else am I doing? Our economy is in the shitter; California's unemployment rate is nearing 20%, and I graduated college 6 years ago and work at a restaurant. It's not like I'm doing a whole hell of a lot here - really, the only thing keeping me in the area is my family. If I had a partner to run away to Europe or Asia for a couple of years, living the expat "poor but sexy" lifestyle, I'd be stoked as a mother trucker. Looks like this dream is on the verge of becoming a reality.
In 1544, a Portuguese ship sighted the main island of Taiwan and named it Ilha Formosa, or "Beautiful Island." Don't just take their word for it. See for yourself.
A change of scenery is always good, as is a new perspective. It scares me a little to think of going somewhere as far and as foreign as this little heavily colonized, tropical (yes, tropical!) economic superpower of an island off the southeast coast of China, but a little fear is good. Manageable, too, especially if I don't go alone.
So I'll be thirty on Monday and it should be good. Life, so far, has been good. The past is rosy and the future is bright. I've got my dreams, I've got my plans, I've really got nothing to complain about; only, perhaps, too few stamps on my passport.
Monday I'll be 30, launching myself into my third decade as a human being on this planet. Perhaps for a lack of anything else to do and a little bit of time on my hands, I've decided I should dedicate a blog entry to the subject. It is, after all, a big deal, isn't it? Eh, I think not. It's just another day, the sun will rise and it will probably be chilly, a breeze might hang off the skeletal branches on the tree above our house, but it will set, and time will go on, and the day will pass and another will come. I'm not the only one with a birthday, and if anything, I should be celebrating my parents on that day.
I'm still here, which is nice. I think, all in all, I'm doing quite well. I feel I've been blessed so far, with family and friends and the things I love all gathered in heaps around me. I lucked out.
I'm back living in Sacramento, not downtown but in east Sac, where the trees are much prettier this time of year and you don't so often see derelicts rummaging through your garbage bins or hear the 2am bar crowd stumbling home drunk in the moonlight. Nothing against derelicts. I have a job and I'm making money. I'm keeping on top of my bills, not just barely but kinda almost.. My lifestyle is simple though, and I don't find myself wanting much, at least not in the material sense. I dream of travel but I'll always dream of that. Anyway, it's nice to dream of something.
Next year I'm planning on moving abroad again. I'll be honest and admit that I don't know where I'll end up or what I'll be doing, but I know one thing - I'll be gone. Chances are, I won't be going alone. I've found someone who also dreams, and, low and behold, dreams of very similar things. He's open to embracing mine and merging his to make an ours. Sweet! And just how long have I been looking for this??
Berlin is in the race, natürlich, but so is teaching English in Asia. Tawain sounds promising, as does Vietnam. For many of those jobs, only a Bachelor's degree is required, and often times, a salary accompanies room and board and sometimes a round trip flight.
Really, what else am I doing? Our economy is in the shitter; California's unemployment rate is nearing 20%, and I graduated college 6 years ago and work at a restaurant. It's not like I'm doing a whole hell of a lot here - really, the only thing keeping me in the area is my family. If I had a partner to run away to Europe or Asia for a couple of years, living the expat "poor but sexy" lifestyle, I'd be stoked as a mother trucker. Looks like this dream is on the verge of becoming a reality.
In 1544, a Portuguese ship sighted the main island of Taiwan and named it Ilha Formosa, or "Beautiful Island." Don't just take their word for it. See for yourself.
A change of scenery is always good, as is a new perspective. It scares me a little to think of going somewhere as far and as foreign as this little heavily colonized, tropical (yes, tropical!) economic superpower of an island off the southeast coast of China, but a little fear is good. Manageable, too, especially if I don't go alone.
So I'll be thirty on Monday and it should be good. Life, so far, has been good. The past is rosy and the future is bright. I've got my dreams, I've got my plans, I've really got nothing to complain about; only, perhaps, too few stamps on my passport.
Friday, November 20, 2009
How to get a work visa for Germany
Friends,
So you've found yourself, somehow, The following post is lengthy but priceless.
So you've found yourself, somehow, The following post is lengthy but priceless.
german/berlin links - tandem partners and internships
Expat resources, Germany:
http://www.erstenachhilfe.de
here is the link for the website where you can find
>>tandem-partners or where you can offer your english
>>teaching skills.
>>http://www.erstenachhilfe.de
>>registration is free and there are lots of berlin
>>people registered.
I've just got a press-information about internships:
This is the site:
http://www.praktika.de/
Offering internships in Germany:
http://www.praktika.de/praktikum.html
If your looking for an internship in other countries they provide information here:
http://www.praktika.de/cms/Auslandspraktikum.959.0.html
Infos about Countries + interships-offer:
http://ausland.praktika.de/home/praktikanten/katalog.phtml
Ordering the PRINTED new catalogue about internships abroad here:
http://www.praktika.de/cms/anfordern.1433.0.html
http://www.erstenachhilfe.de
here is the link for the website where you can find
>>tandem-partners or where you can offer your english
>>teaching skills.
>>http://www.erstenachhilfe.de
>>registration is free and there are lots of berlin
>>people registered.
I've just got a press-information about internships:
This is the site:
http://www.praktika.de/
Offering internships in Germany:
http://www.praktika.de/praktikum.html
If your looking for an internship in other countries they provide information here:
http://www.praktika.de/cms/Auslandspraktikum.959.0.html
Infos about Countries + interships-offer:
http://ausland.praktika.de/home/praktikanten/katalog.phtml
Ordering the PRINTED new catalogue about internships abroad here:
http://www.praktika.de/cms/anfordern.1433.0.html
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
spark
It's funny, the connections we form with certain people, the lack of those that are never formed with others. How does one person, one day, strike you in the way a wooden match would when dragged across a brick fireplace, with such a spark and such an energy that they are forever imprinted in your mind? And depending on certain variables - the size of the spark, the voracity with which it was lit, and the length of time before the fire (when there was only darkness and it was cold) - the imprint grows. The connection strengthens. The purest, wildest of fires burn fast and with intensity. Chaotic.
I am drawn to the flames. I've stretched my arms out, palms facing away from me, and found the fire. It wasn't hard to find; I helped strike the match.
It's been warmer lately, and bright. Aren't these things supposed to start in the spring? Is it fitting that we found each other after the days have started shrinking and the sun's heat is at half mast and I need to put on my warmest socks and bundle my skinny body up into layers of thin clothing and burrow deep down into my double bed to escape the chill? You're there often, underneath the covers with me. That's when it gets hot enough for the clothes to come off.
And that will be my fall. The trees that line our streets will burn with orange and spark with gold and then fall will turn into winter. It will start getting wetter. The trees will shed their clothes too and the rain will come often. Piles of leaves will turn to mush and start to disintegrate, their energy seeping back into the vessel from which it came. It will get colder but I don't mind. I'll have you.
Eventually the sun will want come out and play, and so will the birds. The leaves will be picked up or become compost, now blackened with rot. Buds of green will burst open into reds and pinks and whites on the trees on our streets, and the water that runs off the mountains and down through our rivers will be warm enough to swim in. The same shades of green, and different ones too, will cover the landscape, from lawns to fields, and critters will stir in the ground and in the sky, their offspring falling out of nests or being eaten by predators or growing up to mate and have babies of their own.
Fires will ignite in the hills. We can find a cliff overlooking a valley, some electric orange ball of energy licking and engulfing and blazing below. We can stand there, bodies touching, and feel the heat.
I am drawn to the flames. I've stretched my arms out, palms facing away from me, and found the fire. It wasn't hard to find; I helped strike the match.
It's been warmer lately, and bright. Aren't these things supposed to start in the spring? Is it fitting that we found each other after the days have started shrinking and the sun's heat is at half mast and I need to put on my warmest socks and bundle my skinny body up into layers of thin clothing and burrow deep down into my double bed to escape the chill? You're there often, underneath the covers with me. That's when it gets hot enough for the clothes to come off.
And that will be my fall. The trees that line our streets will burn with orange and spark with gold and then fall will turn into winter. It will start getting wetter. The trees will shed their clothes too and the rain will come often. Piles of leaves will turn to mush and start to disintegrate, their energy seeping back into the vessel from which it came. It will get colder but I don't mind. I'll have you.
Eventually the sun will want come out and play, and so will the birds. The leaves will be picked up or become compost, now blackened with rot. Buds of green will burst open into reds and pinks and whites on the trees on our streets, and the water that runs off the mountains and down through our rivers will be warm enough to swim in. The same shades of green, and different ones too, will cover the landscape, from lawns to fields, and critters will stir in the ground and in the sky, their offspring falling out of nests or being eaten by predators or growing up to mate and have babies of their own.
Fires will ignite in the hills. We can find a cliff overlooking a valley, some electric orange ball of energy licking and engulfing and blazing below. We can stand there, bodies touching, and feel the heat.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Saturday, October 17, 2009
October 17th work
The kind of thing I have to experience at my place of work is interesting, to say the least. Unsettling, to say it best. I've been to hell and I'll spell it brunch. I am a hostess at a restaurant downtown - and kids, I'll shit you not and tell you it's the place to go for your hangover with a side of breakfast.
But for me, I no longer have the privilege of weekend brunch. I won't be enjoying it; I'll be working it. Taking names and numbers and handing out pagers, constructing puzzles out of tables. I wear a smile well and often - I soothe the weary, the hungry, the cranky. I fluctuate so that you will have a wonderful experience. It may take a good deal of energy, but I'm usually brimming it, even first thing in the morning, if forced. The coffee helps a great deal, and honestly, I enjoy running around and chatting with people all over the restaurant. It keeps me busy.
But because I work brunches, I have to experience a loss. Beautiful breakfasty things slip away. Mimosas no longer have a meaning to me; they are transformed into a shiny orange bulbous tumors on a glass stick. The french toast is always burnt. The potatoes are over-fried. The company is cranky and hungry and the syrup-covered infant at the table next to you is shrieking. Pleasant.
So I run around and I hand out menus and then I pick up menus and I try to appease the servers by rotating the sections fairly and try to appease the customers by seating them in desirable sections and make small chat with the customers and try not to trip over the kids who are running around unsupervised while avoiding the plate of food that is being run out the door and the bosses who are either flirting or scolding or joking with the rest of the staff. It's a hectic place. I'm surprised so many customers want to deal with that. I wonder if, while stuffing a fat piece of our famous french toast into their fat greasy mouths, the customers are able to feel the pulsating energy that engulfs the places, seeping out of the mop closet in the back and sizzling with the pomme frittes in the deep fryer, gurgling along with the scalding coffees behind the bar or oozing out of the ketchup bottles. I wonder indeed.
I dream of going out to breakfast with friends. I cherish it when it happens. I never go to my restaurant, I never dream about work, but I dream about my friends at work. The other day I dreampt I was smoking a spliff with my boss. I wonder if he'd be interested. Maybe in the next dream I'll offer him some.
But for me, I no longer have the privilege of weekend brunch. I won't be enjoying it; I'll be working it. Taking names and numbers and handing out pagers, constructing puzzles out of tables. I wear a smile well and often - I soothe the weary, the hungry, the cranky. I fluctuate so that you will have a wonderful experience. It may take a good deal of energy, but I'm usually brimming it, even first thing in the morning, if forced. The coffee helps a great deal, and honestly, I enjoy running around and chatting with people all over the restaurant. It keeps me busy.
But because I work brunches, I have to experience a loss. Beautiful breakfasty things slip away. Mimosas no longer have a meaning to me; they are transformed into a shiny orange bulbous tumors on a glass stick. The french toast is always burnt. The potatoes are over-fried. The company is cranky and hungry and the syrup-covered infant at the table next to you is shrieking. Pleasant.
So I run around and I hand out menus and then I pick up menus and I try to appease the servers by rotating the sections fairly and try to appease the customers by seating them in desirable sections and make small chat with the customers and try not to trip over the kids who are running around unsupervised while avoiding the plate of food that is being run out the door and the bosses who are either flirting or scolding or joking with the rest of the staff. It's a hectic place. I'm surprised so many customers want to deal with that. I wonder if, while stuffing a fat piece of our famous french toast into their fat greasy mouths, the customers are able to feel the pulsating energy that engulfs the places, seeping out of the mop closet in the back and sizzling with the pomme frittes in the deep fryer, gurgling along with the scalding coffees behind the bar or oozing out of the ketchup bottles. I wonder indeed.
I dream of going out to breakfast with friends. I cherish it when it happens. I never go to my restaurant, I never dream about work, but I dream about my friends at work. The other day I dreampt I was smoking a spliff with my boss. I wonder if he'd be interested. Maybe in the next dream I'll offer him some.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Oh help me god I'm building a website!
I'm about to wade through the choppy ocean waves of website development, chasing the idea that could quite lead to the manifestation of a tangible form of my dream, all the while gasping for breath and fighting off sharks, trying to stay afloat.
Welcome that to the world of creating a one-dimensional structure on the internet. Friends, I'm building a website. I've scoured the internet, or "the web," as the cool kids say, for a cozy little spot to burrow down inside of and nest for a while. Building. I thought of a name and bought it and am starting to construct.
The website I'm building is called The Conscious Nomad. It's true, there's nothing there yet but don't fear friends! Something will be there soon. In fact, I should tell you that I'm currently looking for writers, either travelers who write well, back-packers who blog, or writers who travel write. I'll take any submissions. Just think travel - but consciously. Look for the official invitation and more on the subject of conscious travel in the next blog, coming very soon.
But, in the beginning... There was the World-Wide-Web. That's a mouthful, for sure. So is WWW, really, and especially the way our ex-idiot-in-chief president used to pronounce the letter. Ah, the world-wide-web. Worldwide! Where would I be without you? You came into my life when I was just a young lass of 13. I would stay up way too late, using my father's computer to log in to CompuServe and chat with faceless humans all over the states. Mostly, we'd chat about music - Nirvana and Pearl Jam were the ones that I liked the most back then. Heck, Eddie Vedder circa 1993-1997 was a big topic for me. I had such a crush on him. Eddie, if you're out there, I'm available!! ;)
My relationship to the World Wide Web was indeed magical. World Wide Web, I fell in love with you then, a little bit. Ours was a co-dependent relationship - you liked the feel of human fingers on your buttons and I was absolutely enthralled by your endless possibilities. I'm still in love with you in, internet, and you're still as elusive and enigmatic as ever. A little bit like the Loch Ness monster. Just not as wet and chilly.
The internet is everywhere. It's vast, stunning. Stretching. Expanding to farther and farther slightly darkened corners of the earth. Hell, it's even finally working itself into Africa, broadband style, so that the dark continent will soon be lightened up a bit and can finally start inching it's way toward a level playing field to compete with the rest of the world upon.
It's everywhere. It's wireless signal is creeping slowly out of your home office and into the hallway, circling around your kitchen frigerator. It's crawling on the floor and into the dining room, slithering around your couch until up on the sofa and right in your face. The world-wide-web, much like Mr. Lovegrove, is ubiquitous, and it's getting bigger by the nano-second, fucking and multiplying like rabbits and their wretchedly cute offspring.
The Conscious Nomad is my new project and I'm finally dedicating time (not nearly enough, though) to it, like a poor little unattended baby. There, there, child, I'll come back to you soon. My problem is, I suppose, time management. I'm so fixated to living in the now that I let the now overtake me, leaving no breathing room for later. Maybe all this "be here now" mantra stuff I've adopted is reaching into my brain and taking hold of the frontal lobe or wherever it is that old Id of mine is located and sneaking up and shaking it's hand, helping the little Id on it's way. Perhaps this living in the now, care little about the future body of thought has gotten to be too easy to accept. I think that's why I'm trying to devote time to this project; this idea, this website, this realization that I can manifest something if I keep moving forward and try the best I can. I believe in this for everyone; being conscious that your situation is changeable, maliable, flexible. I don't want to hear excuses. Sometimes we can be in pretty deep; I realize that. But then we must make little changes here and there. They do make a difference.
I like the budhist way of living. I don't know a great deal about it but what I know I agree with and respect. I try to incorporate some of that tradition into my life; it just makes sense. The living in the now, the acceptance that perhaps this is all we have, this moment, and everything else doesn't exist. I don't mean to deduct importance from the past, or question the leviety of the future, but all I have for sure is right now.
I do have a tendency to ramble, don't I? What does that characteristic say about someone? (Rhetorical, of course). Back to the website. Having a project is important. Having goals are important. Having lists and being able to cross items off said list is important. That's what I'm trying to do; keep moving forward. Maybe I had felt a bit stagnant there for a while, and still feel a bit in limbo (do I stay in California? Do I go back to Berlin?) and, admittedly, always staying incredibly busy, but I'm discovering avenues to pursue that hopefully lead to forward motion and freedom. I just need to dedicate the appropriate amount of time to realizing these things.
Manifest. Don't forget it.
So I'm stoked. And I'm killing time, waiting for a conformation email to reach me from WordPress headquarters. And then I'll be off to start the process - which, at this point, will be downloading WordPress software on my computer and installing. Then I'll be off to build! So, if you'll excuse me, I must be running. It's time to kickstart the ignition and take off.
Welcome that to the world of creating a one-dimensional structure on the internet. Friends, I'm building a website. I've scoured the internet, or "the web," as the cool kids say, for a cozy little spot to burrow down inside of and nest for a while. Building. I thought of a name and bought it and am starting to construct.
The website I'm building is called The Conscious Nomad. It's true, there's nothing there yet but don't fear friends! Something will be there soon. In fact, I should tell you that I'm currently looking for writers, either travelers who write well, back-packers who blog, or writers who travel write. I'll take any submissions. Just think travel - but consciously. Look for the official invitation and more on the subject of conscious travel in the next blog, coming very soon.
But, in the beginning... There was the World-Wide-Web. That's a mouthful, for sure. So is WWW, really, and especially the way our ex-idiot-in-chief president used to pronounce the letter. Ah, the world-wide-web. Worldwide! Where would I be without you? You came into my life when I was just a young lass of 13. I would stay up way too late, using my father's computer to log in to CompuServe and chat with faceless humans all over the states. Mostly, we'd chat about music - Nirvana and Pearl Jam were the ones that I liked the most back then. Heck, Eddie Vedder circa 1993-1997 was a big topic for me. I had such a crush on him. Eddie, if you're out there, I'm available!! ;)
My relationship to the World Wide Web was indeed magical. World Wide Web, I fell in love with you then, a little bit. Ours was a co-dependent relationship - you liked the feel of human fingers on your buttons and I was absolutely enthralled by your endless possibilities. I'm still in love with you in, internet, and you're still as elusive and enigmatic as ever. A little bit like the Loch Ness monster. Just not as wet and chilly.
The internet is everywhere. It's vast, stunning. Stretching. Expanding to farther and farther slightly darkened corners of the earth. Hell, it's even finally working itself into Africa, broadband style, so that the dark continent will soon be lightened up a bit and can finally start inching it's way toward a level playing field to compete with the rest of the world upon.
It's everywhere. It's wireless signal is creeping slowly out of your home office and into the hallway, circling around your kitchen frigerator. It's crawling on the floor and into the dining room, slithering around your couch until up on the sofa and right in your face. The world-wide-web, much like Mr. Lovegrove, is ubiquitous, and it's getting bigger by the nano-second, fucking and multiplying like rabbits and their wretchedly cute offspring.
The Conscious Nomad is my new project and I'm finally dedicating time (not nearly enough, though) to it, like a poor little unattended baby. There, there, child, I'll come back to you soon. My problem is, I suppose, time management. I'm so fixated to living in the now that I let the now overtake me, leaving no breathing room for later. Maybe all this "be here now" mantra stuff I've adopted is reaching into my brain and taking hold of the frontal lobe or wherever it is that old Id of mine is located and sneaking up and shaking it's hand, helping the little Id on it's way. Perhaps this living in the now, care little about the future body of thought has gotten to be too easy to accept. I think that's why I'm trying to devote time to this project; this idea, this website, this realization that I can manifest something if I keep moving forward and try the best I can. I believe in this for everyone; being conscious that your situation is changeable, maliable, flexible. I don't want to hear excuses. Sometimes we can be in pretty deep; I realize that. But then we must make little changes here and there. They do make a difference.
I like the budhist way of living. I don't know a great deal about it but what I know I agree with and respect. I try to incorporate some of that tradition into my life; it just makes sense. The living in the now, the acceptance that perhaps this is all we have, this moment, and everything else doesn't exist. I don't mean to deduct importance from the past, or question the leviety of the future, but all I have for sure is right now.
I do have a tendency to ramble, don't I? What does that characteristic say about someone? (Rhetorical, of course). Back to the website. Having a project is important. Having goals are important. Having lists and being able to cross items off said list is important. That's what I'm trying to do; keep moving forward. Maybe I had felt a bit stagnant there for a while, and still feel a bit in limbo (do I stay in California? Do I go back to Berlin?) and, admittedly, always staying incredibly busy, but I'm discovering avenues to pursue that hopefully lead to forward motion and freedom. I just need to dedicate the appropriate amount of time to realizing these things.
Manifest. Don't forget it.
So I'm stoked. And I'm killing time, waiting for a conformation email to reach me from WordPress headquarters. And then I'll be off to start the process - which, at this point, will be downloading WordPress software on my computer and installing. Then I'll be off to build! So, if you'll excuse me, I must be running. It's time to kickstart the ignition and take off.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Put on your thinking cap
and write yourself a blog. To sort it all out. Because, right now, like Kyle from work says (and, holy HELL if I had not turned on this computer to write myself a quick blog I would have completely forgotten to call the kid to let him know about the evening's events - more later on that) "I'm a little cloudy." Meaning, literally, I'm a tad bit stoned; figuratively, I got some shit I got to sort out, in my head."
So welcome to my thinking session.
I've had a great day. It's at the in-between right now; the I'm-here-but-I'm-supposed-to-be-on-my-way-to-there state
So welcome to my thinking session.
I've had a great day. It's at the in-between right now; the I'm-here-but-I'm-supposed-to-be-on-my-way-to-there state
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Google Fortune / Google Biz Kit is a SCAM
And I just got taken.
For $1.97. But it could have easily been more. A link was sent to me via email from my father, who I trust. So I clicked and I read and I signed up. The website looked legit; a falsified site called The New York Gazette (which appears like a newspaper but in small print is written something like "not affiliated with any newspaper publication") and hypes up the product - a product that boasts that even children can work for home, do virtually nothing, pay virtually nothing, and make a shit load! What a deal! Well I totally fell for it. We must remember, kids, what dear old Grandmother used to say: If it looks too good to be true, it probably is.
End result: I've had to cancel my debit card. Shame, shame, shame on me for giving that site my number over the internet. Not a smart move. And of course that $1.97, which, for now, I'll deduct from my "that was a really stupid move" account.
For $1.97. But it could have easily been more. A link was sent to me via email from my father, who I trust. So I clicked and I read and I signed up. The website looked legit; a falsified site called The New York Gazette (which appears like a newspaper but in small print is written something like "not affiliated with any newspaper publication") and hypes up the product - a product that boasts that even children can work for home, do virtually nothing, pay virtually nothing, and make a shit load! What a deal! Well I totally fell for it. We must remember, kids, what dear old Grandmother used to say: If it looks too good to be true, it probably is.
End result: I've had to cancel my debit card. Shame, shame, shame on me for giving that site my number over the internet. Not a smart move. And of course that $1.97, which, for now, I'll deduct from my "that was a really stupid move" account.
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