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In which (former and future) world curious traveler, writer, urban warrior, beer enthusiast native Georgian documents unemployed life on the prairie

Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Yeah, Duh, It Is Cold Out

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Given that there's a wind chill of -14 right now, you might think that I'm about to rant about the cold. Quite the opposite, friends! Bear with me.
When people say that Minnesotans love to talk about the weather, they’re not kidding. I’ve lived here for 7 years, and still I marvel at it. Minnesotans really, really love to talk about the weather. To be fair, there is a lot to say about it up here. It’s a standard part of polite conversation, and just like saying “fine thanks, how are you” when you don’t really care, it gets old.
For the past 5 months, I’ve become more of a slave to the weather than I ever was before.  I work as a teacher’s aide in St. Paul. To spare the teachers’ prep time, aides supervise drop off, pick up, and 2 sessions of recess in between. I’m not sure what I did to deserve this, but I spend more time outside than anyone else at the school, by a margin of about an hour. Nearly half of my 8-hour workday takes place outside. That’s no small commitment in Minnesota winter!
First thing in the morning, I stand at the crosswalk for 35 minutes, directing traffic and supervising drop off. It’s a rude way to wake up, standing around, bored, during the coldest part of the day. To add insult to this injury, I am forced to field everyone else’s complaints about the cold.
The children tend to scurry past, shrieking, “It’s freezing!”
“Quit complaining,” I bark. “You don’t even know cold!”
Their parents trudge past, and except for the blessed few who rudely ignore me, they all comment, “Brr! It’s cold out here!”
Now, I know they only mean to be friendly. I know that comments on the weather are like emphatic O’s and you-betchas: it’s just how Minnesotans talk. I know I shouldn’t fault them for it, because it’s hard to strike up much of a conversation when you’re rushing past.
But come on. Really?
I’m always tempted to growl, “Yeah, no shit, windchill of minus 11 is pretty damn brisk, Captain Obvious,” but you’re supposed to be polite to the parents, so I’ve taken to responding simply, “Don’t remind me.” (I wait until they’ve stepped past to roll my eyes.)
In an effort to improve my mornings—and indeed, the conversational flair of the entire state of Minnesota and parts of Wisconsin—I’ve brainstormed a brief compendium of chatty one-liners. Should you ever come across someone who stands outside for a significant portion of the winter—drop off monitors, gas station attendants, traffic cops, and streetwalkers, just to name a few—don’t tell us that it’s cold out. Believe me, we know. Instead, consider one of the following slightly more interesting possibilities.

Ways to comment on the weather that are at least slightly more interesting than “It’s cold!”
  • “Wouldn’t it be nice if we had evolved to grow a winter pelt like polar bears?”
  • “The good news is, cold outside makes whiskey taste better inside!”
  • “My kid’s a Boy Scout. I would have him build you a campfire if we hadn’t had so many problems at home with lighter fluid lately…”
  • “I read that at the rate global temperatures are rising, by 2034, Minnesota will have a climate like Florida’s and Florida will finally self-immolate, just like the other 49 states have always wanted. Something to look forward to, right?”
  • “Wind like this is why I stopped wearing a toupee!”
  • “Cold like this always makes me wonder how Eskimos pee and poop.”
  • “The last time I saw anyone as bundled up as you are, I was disposing corpses for the mob!”

Safe topics for those who haven’t quite worked up the nerve to abandon Minnesotan linguistics
  • “How about that thing the Vikings and/or Packers did last night?”*
  • “Hockey blah blah blah.”*
  • “I wonder if The Lake will ever thaw this year?”*
  • Any sentence containing the words bag and bagel, pronounced “baig” and “BAGul,” respectively
  • “So how about that cockamamie new contraption at the Mall of America, huh?”
  • “I brought you a tasting selection of the 16 kinds of bars I baked this weekend.”
*It should be noted that these topics aren’t actually interesting, but hey, at least they’re better than, “It’s cold.”

Topics that suggest you follow any news other than the weather report
  • “Just like Alicia Keys said, Obama’s on fire, isn’t he?”
  •  "How about this crazy filibuster business?” 
  • "At least we don't live in Syria, right?"
  • “They just said on the radio that Jessica Simpson weighs [x] pounds today.”
  • “This bump watch for Princess Kate is getting wild!”
  • “Why did people ever stop talking about Dennis Rodman?”

Total nonsequitors that would make me think you’re the coolest person I’ve ever seen, which would say a lot because I’ve met Neko Case
  • “As you may have noticed, I don’t have gloves on. That’s because my hands are robotic prostheses due to a brawl with a kimodo dragon that wandered into my hut when I was in the Peace Corps. You should see the dragon!”
  • “Dropping the kids off by car is such a drag. I used to just shove them out of our personal helicopter and hope for the best, but my boss pointed out that Soviet double agents shouldn’t attract so much attention to themselves—I mean—oops.”
  • “If Little Suzie acts weird today, it’s probably because I accidentally drank her plain OJ and gave her my screwdriver at breakfast. Sorry about that.”
  • “Just so you know, I tried to get my personal best friend Wes Anderson to film Rushmore but then I lost a bet we made about our buddy Bill Murray. If I told you the details, I'd have to kill you.”
  • “Little Billy’s peanut allergy is such a pain in the ass, I swear to God, I’m just going to give up and let him die one of these days.”

Actual things kids have said to me that are better than anything any adult has said ever
  • “My two favorite interests are princesses and blood sports.”
  • “Have you ever meditated underwater?”
  • “I’ve gotta round up the puppies!” (It should be noted that there were no puppies present.)
  • “When is your birthday and are you married?”
  • “You can’t come near me! I’m allergic to people! Achoo!”


Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Every time I move, digging through my piles of useless belongings reminds me what a sentimental sap I am.

Exhibit A: I still have a box of souvenirs from a relationship that ended in February 2009

The best part: there's a t-shirt inside that I'm going to start wearing.
The worst part: buried among the papers is a "Life's To Do" list written in summer 2008. I can only cross one thing off it. (Get a tattoo. Check.) It's really a bummer that among the more modest things on the list, I can't cross off Go to Dollywood, Learn Spanish, or Learn to Knit.

I don't know what to do with it. I should really take a lesson from Emma and its modern sister Clueless and set it on fire, but that seems like such a waste.

Sunday, November 6, 2011

While I have your attention, please allow me to show off our Halloween costumes.

Kahlo and Dalí Surreal Estate Agency
Specializing in timeless dreamscapes since 2011

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Oh yeah, this project

Hello again, folks.

If my fans are as devoted as my delusions of self grandeur suggest, I hope you weren't too disappointed by this tease of a blog. (Which, by the way, is not to be confused with this blog of nearly the same URL, minus the hyphen. Wish I had realized that before I chose this title...)

You see, I expected to be unemployed for a long time, and I figured that maintaining a blog would be good reason not to let myself spiral into a nearly vegetative state of frustration and boredom. It would encourage me to partake in minor adventures every day, or at least to search my brain for the most artful way to admit that I spent an entire day watching Downton Abbey in my pajamas.*

*Okay, fine, I admit I did precisely that one day two weeks ago, but only because I was deathly ill with what I'm pretty sure was yet another malaria relapse.

To be honest, I was kind of looking forward to my first few weeks of unemployment. Quite unexpectedly, though, and by a lucky fluke that utterly defies statistical reason in this abysmal job market, I landed two jobs within a week, one in a restaurant and one in an office. Both positions are part-time, but as I've always said--and I've usually had more than one job in my short life--two part-time jobs equals more than one full-time job.

That is to say, I've been busy. Really obnoxiously busy. I am either in transit or working from 10:30 a.m. to 9:00 p.m. three or four days per week. Because I have to ride the bus, I don't get home until 9:00 those nights. Ever the perfect housewife, Jef always has dinner ready on the table when I get home, but he can barely eat it with me before he crashes from exhaustion. (He leaves for work by 7:00 every morning.) Cruelly, the one day each week that I have to get up early is Saturday. The only day I have completely free is Sunday, so my little free time with Jeffrey is so precious that I hardly ever see anyone else.

Needless to say, blogging was a low priority.

So then I thought, "I'll do NaNoWriMo like I did last year, but this time it'll just mean blogging so compulsively that either my friends will get sick of me or I'll get discovered--hopefully the latter!"

But then life got even more crazy.

Also unexpectedly, an opportunity for a full-time job sort of fell in my lap two weeks ago. I accepted a position as an Educational Assistant at a grammar school here in St. Paul. (Yes, a grammar school.)

It's kind of a dream come true. Full-time, normal hours, benefits, and I'll be working with kids again. I'll also be making a good 40% more than I have been, which is ironic, because no one goes into teaching for the money. That's how poor I've been for a few months. (No moral crisis necessary, though: I'm still solidly in the 99%.) Of all of those advantages, though, I am most excited for a normal schedule. To happy hours, afternoon yoga classes, free Thursday evenings at the Walker, 7:00 movies, and reasonable dinner hours, I've missed you. I'll see you in a week.

In the interest of the children with whom I'll be working--and decidedly not in the interest of my own sanity--I offered to begin part-time until I wrap up at my two previous jobs. The result: I currently have three jobs. Thank Zeus, Hera, and Isis that I only have to pull off these 11-hour workdays for two weeks. As I take my one break of the day on the bus ride between Shift 1 and Shift 2 of the day, I consider the fact that some people consistently work two or three jobs and have children, and I am (a) humbled by their perseverance, and (b) really friggin' angry that anyone has to live that way. Blessed are those who occupy Wall Street, because I haven't got the time these days.

After one last awful week, though, I will finally have a moment to breathe. My hard-earned Veteran's Day long weekend can't come soon enough, and after that, I will be very, very thankful for my normal schedule and my dental insurance.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Day 4

Another productive day in (f)un(der)employment. I went to an interview, and then orientation for the diner job, and then I got an offer from the interview.

Oh but wait--it's complicated, because I'm waiting to hear back from a full-time job, but I suppose that's a good problem to have.

And then I went to Thirsty Thursday $1 beer night at the St. Paul Saints, where I got our whole section to sing Happy Birthday to Jef, even though his natal day was six months and change ago.

And now, Jef is reading Game of Thrones and I'm about to dig into Twilight, after judging it all these years. This is evidence that we are not the hipsters we once were. I am, however, and always will be, a critical studies major.

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

The moral of the story is: ask and ye shall recieve

A few months ago, I sent a letter to a stranger to tell him that I wanted to open a brewery someday.

Tonight, he bought me dinner and beer and offered me a car. Question mark?

Details to follow.

And that's Day 3 of (f)un(der)emploment, folks.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Um, JK?

Adventures in unemployment:

Much ado about nothing, folks: turns out I am so good at unemployment, I won the game in 24 hours.

The good news is: I was offered some host/bus shifts at a local diner today.

The bad news is: 3-4 shifts per week at minimum wage barely counts as employment, so I'm still hunting. Boy, is it ugly. I've got several applications floating, but so far no word.

Adventures in fun(der)employment:

While I was still employed, I splurged on a Groupon for one month of unlimited yoga classes at a studio nearby. Wanting to be productive/battle my French pastry belly/actually get my money's worth/etc, I hopped on over to Corepower today for a class called something like "Intro to Coreblast Sanathananayana."

When I opened the door, I was almost knocked over by the bougie. It's the kind of place that has a boutique in front that sells $100 yoga mats and lots of things that include the words "sandalwood," "lemongrass," and "flow."

No need to buy a $100 mat woven of organic yak hair at a fair trade cooperative in India, though, I have my own. I entered the studio--which, I should note, was balmy--and unfurled my unexotic yoga mat.

Uh oh. I had forgotten that I took my mat camping (well, not camping, but sleeping on the ground at my friend Cassie's farm) this weekend. It was filthy. I glanced around, hoping that none of my classmates or their pristine mats would judge me.

No sooner had we begun our sadasthantanayaga blah blah breathing and warrior poses than I was drenched. I don't know about you, but I hate to sweat in public under any circumstance, and I don't understand the spiritual cleansing power of sweat. If anything cleans my spirit, it's the shower I take afterward. Add the fact that I was dripping onto my dirty mat, and within moments, I was struggling to maintain breath and balance as I slipped around in mud.

I'm not sure whether I was more ashamed or amused.