sentimental geek

So, I got the job.

I’m pretty excited about it and, after two days of training, I’m pretty sure I can handle it. So my new title is “Operations Specialist for Latin and South America, and the Middle East”. I kind of forgot to about the “Middle East” part, but oh, well. It’s not like it’s a tourist hotspot of the moment. The impending war isn’t really promising either.

“What exactly do you do?”

I’m so tired of hearing that. It’s really hard to explain my job. I have my own office, with a door and a window, and more money. I confirm hotels and tours with our ground partners in the respective areas and handle customer service and emergencies.

And I really want a PDA. I think that it would help me in my job. My parents think I’m nuts. I just need to be really, really, really organized. The girl that I’m replacing is totally anally retentive and I’m trying to be that way because her system works so well. But I don’t really have a good handle on time management.

I guess my brother didn’t do very well his first semester. He’s supposedly on academic probation. He feels really bad, and I really feel for him. I know what it’s like to have such high hopes and then get your final grades. It’s not his fault. He doesn’t know time management either. He doesn’t know how to study. My parents put a lot of pressure on us to do well academically and I think sometimes I forgot that they would love me no matter what. We were talking about that today. I told them not to be too hard on him because, like me, he’s hard enough on himself. So what if you don’t complete college in four years. No one does anymore. A lot of degree programs take almost five years. I obviously didn’t finish college. And Annie, who’s attending the University of Central Florida in Orlando and majoring in sport medicine (I think…and she’s also on her 3rd college. No one knows what’s up with our family and 3 colleges. I did it, Annie did it…maybe Greg will do it too, who knows?), won’t finish in four years. And that’s ok. I think we all have some kind of inherent need to make our parents proud, as if that means that we have their love forever. I had convinced myself that my parents would kill me if I didn’t do well in school…and perhaps it’s a little true. Greg was so cocky when he started at school. He had done great on his SATs and was signing up for honor classes, when he was never an honor student in high school. I was worried. I wanted to tell him to take it easy his first semester, get into a groove first and then try to show off. You want to college. You’re doing better than more than half of the kids in your graduating class. You don’t have to prove to anyone that you’re smart by taking courses you’re going to drown in. I think my parents were a little taken aback by his enthusiasm, but let him go with it. School is important to them…but if Greg is unhappy…or scared…or over his head, he needs to know that the money (he’ll lose his scholarships if he doesn’t get a 2.7) is not the big issue. Neither are his grades. What is important is that he’s happy and healthy and trying the best that he can. Every time I get on a kick about this sort of thing, I feel like Stuart Smalley on SNL “because I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and gosh darn it, people like me.” College is not the most important thing in the world.

That’s what my promotion meant to me. I could say “Look at me. Two and half years of college and I’m still fine.” One could argue that I could be making more money if I had a degree, but I think that’s bullshit. Especially at my job. And I happen to know for a fact that the people from my high school class who do have the all-holy college degree are working at jobs that have nothing to do with their degree…c’mon. I don’t think Macy’s cares wether or not you were on Dean’s List four years in a row. Greg will be just fine. I just wish I could tell him that. There’s always next semester, Gregwa. You can’t live in the past and obsess over your mistakes. You can’t change it. You can only go forward and you can’t live to make other people happy. If you’re happy, the people who truly love you will be happy too.

I guess I’m just worried about him. Worried about him the way I wish someone had worried about me.

Anyway, I’m tired of typing and listening to those stupid NBC ads talking about how ‘Friends’ were your friends. It’s a TV show. Get over it.

I’m not looking forward to this week. Mikey’s friend came up for a week. A week. I didn’t know he was even coming until last night and wouldn’t you think he would ask first? Of course not. I’m going to need my space. And if I rip his head off…well, that’s not going to be my fault. We’re not running a damn Holiday Inn. If he dirties dishes, he does them. Last time he was over, they both made dinner and used every freakin’ pan in the house. I won’t put up with it. I’m through being polite.

Hmmm…I bet Neil will yell at me for writing that. What if somebody sees….who cares!? This is my damn journal and I pay rent at the damn house. I can write whatever I want.

I really don’t feel well…I don’t want to get sick.

I hope everyone has a great holiday.

I got the promotion.

Stay tuned.

So, I’ve kind of been neglecting my poor blog these last couple of months. Apparently, the little snippets of news I get on my daily perusal of CNN.com aren’t cutting it. It’s not that I haven’t anything to say or that there’s nothing going on in my life…neither is true. I guess I just have a hard time sitting down and narrating my day.

I turned 23 on November 23rd and Mikey and Neil threw me a triptacular birthday party with Brandon and Amy and Pete and Laura. I got some good presents (The Godfather trilogy from Neil, which I’ve been asking for since they released it), ‘Happy Days with the Naked Chef’ and one of those cool round knife things from Mikey, Roadwarrior from Pete and Laura, which is one of my favorite movies of all time…I know, it’s weird…, the new Best Of album from Amy (hence my renewed U2 obsession…incidentally, I got the original Greatest Hits from my friend Joan in Boston on my 19th birthday) and Joshua Tree on record from Brandon (which is, like, the best present ever. I was so psyched) and went a little crazy, but hey.

Other than that, life is pretty normal. I can’t believe that Christmas is Wednesday. This year has gone by waay to fast. I haven’t got all of my shopping done yet. Neil and I are supposed to go today if he ever gets his lazy ass out of bed. We’re going to my office Christmas party later this afternoon and I have to find a secret santa gift for one of the girls in Groups…I have no clue what. A plant sounds sooo cheezy but I really have no clue what else to get her. They just had a baby, but…hell, I don’t know. I was thinking maybe a nice picture frame, but that seems a little cheap, even though we have a $10.00 maximum.

Whoo-hoo, my Remy Zero download finished. My new obsession is Kazaa. I loved Napster when it was still usable. I loved it. I have no short term memory, so when I think of a song I want, I never remember it when I go to a store. With Napster, I could say “Remy Zero”, click and download. Kazaa isn’t as good as Napster (I hate the weirdass ads), but it does the job. We’ve had it a week and already have 75 files. It’s nothing compared to the 300 or so we had on the computer before it went to Gateway hell, but it’s a start. I’ve got GusGus going now (which we didn’t actually download, so I have no clue where it came from.). Where’s my Remy Zero….? Ah-ha, there we go. It’s ‘Shattered’ and it’s really good. Actually, this copy sucks. Great. How about a little Guster?

There, much better.

Neil and I went to see Lord of the Rings Friday night. It was amazing. AMAZING. It doesn’t feel as long as it really is. You’re too busy being sucked into the story. There were points, and I know this sounds stupid, but that you really feel like this is real, this is happening. I never read the books when I was little. Lord of the Rings was Neil’s freakin’ childhood. He loves it. I want to read the books, but part of me wants to see the third movie first. I know it’s a cop out, but I don’t want to know what happens. And it’s not like Neil will tell me anyway. But the movie was wonderful. It’s perfect. It’s mindboggling to think that this kind of movie was ever made…and made as well as it is. The subject matter is so relevant too. Neil and I were talking about it on the way home. I wondered if Tolkien was writing the books as a comment on the world situation (war, environmental destruction, etc.) A lot of it hit home. The audience was practically silent through the whole thing, except for the occasional burst of applause and “Holy shit!”‘s. (And Orlando Bloom is beautiful. Damn, Legolis!) The place was packed. They totally sold out. The theater owner is such a jerk, too. He’s this teeny, balding little queen who can’t keep help at all and was working the ticket counter on a Friday night. How much does that suck? Don’t you have someone to do that for you? We bought our tickets an hour before the movie started so we didn’t have to stand in line, but ended up hanging out in the lobby in front of the doors for 45 minutes. It was obnoxious. People pushing and shoving and yelling. I can’t imagine what it must have been like opening night. I wouldn’t have been able to handle it.

It’s twenty after twelve. Who knows when Neil is going to surface. I just went in and woke him up again. I’ve been on edge all weekend. There’s a position opening up in Operations at work and I’m supposed to apply for it and no one is applying because I am, which is kind of weird. (Ah…Tears for Fears…) No one (who counts anyway) wants me to get the job, apparently. You know, the big wigs, the head honchos. Apparently I’m too immature. It’s not that I’m immature. Sure, I like to laugh. If you don’t laugh at that job, the stress will drive you crazy and you’ll have a nervous breakdown. And I AM 23 years old, for Christ’s sake. I don’t have big responsibilities like KIDS or a house payment or whatever. But that doesn’t mean I’m immature or irresponsible. Whatever. At this point, I don’t care either way. I’m going to have to fly sometime and in operations, that sometime would be soon.

Oh, maybe I should point out I didn’t end up going to Russia. I freaked out and made a stupid snap decision and I’m sorry that I didn’t go. I should have gone. Everybody at work was pissed, especially my manager. I thought she was going to kill me. So now I look stupid. The girl who I’d be replacing told me that the big THEY think I’m too young and I know my fear of flying is a problem as well. The thing is, my friend Kim, who is also my supervisor, is who should REALLY get the job. I think she should have it. I WANT her to have it so she can get the hell out of reservations but she makes too much money in res as it is, with commission, so they’d never be able to afford her. She can’t get paid less than she already is…she has a new house and three kids, for crying out loud. It’s like playing second fiddle to a Stradivarius, you know? Everyone’s like “Other than Kim, you’re the best person for the job” or “If Kim doesn’t apply, I’m sure you’ll get it.” I get a stomach ache just thinking about it. I don’t really care if I get it or not.

And anyway…wasn’t I ready to quit a few months ago? Wasn’t that me going through the HELP WANTED ads?

I think it was.

So, Neil’s finally in the shower. Think I should do dishes and clean the kitchen.

Catch you later.