jobhunt

Weird Dreams and New Jobs

I had the weirdest, most intense dream last night. I was at work (but not quite; you know how dreams are), and my boss Andrew was there, as was the rest of Lockbox, I think. Somehow, Andrew had been infected with some sort of fatal virus / infestation / disease, one that we knew killed swiftly, horribly and painfully. (No, it’s not a revenge dream…) I don’t recall how we knew he had it, or where he’d gotten it, though I think he’d stepped in it somewhere. We all knew about it, anyway, and how it ate the flesh of the victim within minutes of becoming active. The skin would turn pitch black, starting from wherever the infection had begun — wherever the victim had first touched the blackness to become infected in the first place. (It reminds me a little of the black oil in the X-Files, but not quite.)

Like I said, we all knew Andrew was infected. We stood around him, kind of keeping our distance, and he leaned on one of the desks, feigning lightheartedness. Tension was high, not only because we knew he was about to die before our eyes, but because we didn’t want to become infected ourselves.

We could see the tendrilly waves of blackness creeping around his shoes. (Apparently the virus consumed clothing, too…) Before they got much farther, though, Andrew leaned out toward me, careful to keep his feet back away and clear of me… and puckered up for a goodbye kiss. And, strangely enough, I obliged. Just a peck, mind you, and just a friendly one, like you’d give a relative, but on the lips. This seemed appropriate in the dream, like a final farewell.

A few moments later, Andrew slumped to the floor, still conscious, but in pain. He half-leaned against the desk, half-lay on the floor, and we were aware of the blackness beginning to overtake his ankles. He screamed, and his hands became taut claws of pain. Then I screamed and started to cry, because I was witnessing his death — at which point he stopped screaming and said, "No, no, I’m just kidding. It’s really not that bad yet." And he relaxed a bit and grinned up at us.

I was relieved by not yet witnessing his gory death, though a little peeved at his melodrama, but I was still tense and shaking. A few seconds later, I saw that the virus was moving up his legs, and he wasn’t faking anymore, and I screamed again, looking away and bracing myself on a table.

Before the virus overtook his entire body, though, I either woke up or shifted to a new dream. I may even have the sequence of events mixed up. At any rate, I didn’t stay in the dream long enough to actually witness Andrew’s death, which is good.

I’ve gotta tell you, though, when I woke up this morning, I was tense and stiff and my eyes were crusty, like I’d been crying in my sleep. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a dream that intense. The image of him writhing and screaming on the floor is still burned into my head, and has been all day… which made it that much more interesting to work right next to him all day, while he was subbing for Loni, who’s on vacation this week. After seeing Andrew almost die in my dream, I think it made me that much nicer to him today, because I was glad he was alive in real life.

What strikes me most, thinking back on the dream, is: 1.) I was the only one screaming. At Halloween, by the way, the entire office had agreed that they knew I wasn’t a "screamer." The others in the dream seemed grossed out, piteous toward Andrew, and concerned about their own safety, but none grieved openly as I did. 2.) I was the only one Andrew made a parting gesture toward. Sure, it was my dream, but he didn’t even offer any kind of goodbyes, except the kiss to me.

Usually I can figure out what a dream is about, but I’m not sure about this one. There’s only one thing I can think that it might be related to, which brings me to my next topic.

Remember how I said I had three job leads outside Sky and one within? Well… I got the one within! w00t! I’m starting December 1st, and I’ll be working 8am to 5pm, no weekends, with a buck fifty pay increase. Hell, yeah. It sounds like I’m moving up from general flunky to cubicle rat; I’ll be searching reports and documents for bank clients’ missing information, like SSN, address, birthdate, etc, as required by the Patriot Act. Could suck, but could also be better than what I’m doing now. Hell, with such a pay jump, I’d be content, anyway, I think.

So, I suppose that crazy dream could have been my brain reacting to me leaving Lockbox shorthanded, somehow.

Next chapter: I received an e-mail this evening from HCR Manor Care, asking when I would be available for a phone interview. Keep in mind, this gig sounded pretty sweet: interviewing subject matter experts; writing, editing, and structuring web content; audio/video production; and graphic design. Right up my alley, I do believe. So, I’ll go through with the phone interview, but I’ll sure feel like a dick if I have to back out of the new job at Sky because I got a better deal somewhere else. Especially since I told my new boss in my interview that "I want to stay with Sky." Riiiight…

Soo… I’m going to hope for a phone interview either during my lunch Monday or after work Tuesday, since I don’t exactly want to do a phone interview at my desk in the midst of other employees. Were I in a cubicle or office, sure, but not in the middle of Lockbox.

The way I’m looking at things, I don’t have to sweat these other interviews now. I do best when I don’t get all worked up about it, when I kind of psych myself out of ever actually having the job and just relax and enjoy the interview. At least, it seems that way at the time, I guess. — No, I take that back. I know that’s how it is, because that’s how I got the Patriot job. 🙂 Either that, or they had some real slim pickins for candidates…

Anyway, before I psych myself out of any more jobs, I’m going to stop rambling.

jobhunt

Kinko’s

So, in Sunday’s Blade, I found not one but two potentially satisfying classified ads for Web Designers. Which sent me off to Kinko’s before work Monday to print off my specially-made resumé stationery. You know, the stuff that perfectly matches my portfolio website. When I proofed my document at Kinko’s, though, I realized that I’d goofed while resizing the final paper size to legal (instead of "a half-inch too narrow and an inch too long," according to Uncle Frank). The girl gave me the goof as a sample and I went off to work. Unfortunately, I didn’t leave work until 8:30pm (helluva half-day that was, at six hours), so I didn’t have time to get back home and fix the PageMaker document and get back to Kinko’s to get it printed.

Rant: Since when does Kinko’s close?! The BG Kinko’s has two signs on their front door: one that says, "24 Hours A Day, 7 Days A Week," and one that gives their real hours of 7am-9pm most days of the week. I thought Kinko’s was supposed to be "your 24-hour branch office." WTF? — OK, continuing on…

So, today, after Aaron headed off to work, I fixed my stationery (for real this time) and walked my newly-burned CD-R down to Kinko’s. Just as I had done last time, I put my CD on the counter and told the girl (a different one this time) that I had a PageMaker file on the disc of which I needed ten copies, color, tabloid size. She registered all that, and asked me, "Is this, um… is that a PC disc?" Hmm. I informed her that, yes, it was PC. She nodded, took the disc, and headed over to the far side of the employee work area, to the printing computers.

I milled about while she got over there and put the disc in. Finally she called out the name of my file, to make sure that was the one. Yep, it’s the only PageMaker file on the CD… but I just replied, "Yep, that’s it!" And, of course, I know PageMaker well enough to see over her shoulder at 20 feet that she hadn’t installed the fonts before opening the document — the font substitution dialog had come up. She looked confused for a moment, then just clicked through and brought up the document. Then she asked me if I wanted to come look and make sure it was OK before she printed it. I don’t think this is standard company policy… but I walked on back to her computer to look. Sure enough, it had substituted something that was not quite my fonts, and she told me so. I informed her that the fonts were on the disc, at which point she got the "boy, am I new here" look on her face and asked me if I knew how to put the fonts on the computer.

Way to make me feel smart, girlie! I needed an ego boost.

I tried to act informed (which, actually, I was) and I said something like, "Well, I don’t know exactly how you guys do it here… do you have any font management software on that thing?" Thank you, Graphic Design and Typography… thank you, VCT 308… I sound smart now. And she waded through the Start Menu until she finally found Adobe Type Manager and fumbled her way through installing my fonts. She probably had a bear of a time dealing with it later, because I know what a bitch ATM can be about ejected disks sometimes, especially if you don’t know what you’re doing.. Anyway, she finally got it going on, and I retreated once more to the customer side of the desk.

From here, the story’s pretty standard. Looked at the first printed proof, approved it, got my remaining nine copies, and paid about two bucks apiece for ’em. Yup, over $20 for ten color printouts on 11×17 paper. But I think it’ll be worth it. Yeah.

Incidentally, while I was researching hyperlinks for this entry, I came across a job posting on the Thread (formerly Image Source) website, and applied for it. So, that makes three possibilities outside of Sky and one within! Hey, Amy, my tarot was right: things are moving in the right direction! Glad I jumped on it…

randomness

Friday Night

Just a brief catch-up post… I’ll write more later in the weekend.

Went to see Matrix Revolutions tonight. While I enjoyed it, I was also a little underwhelmed. The pacing seemed a little different to me in places, and it was more action-oriented than cerebral. I mean, sure, it’s the Matrix, so I liked it… but not as much as the other two.

Went to Steve Yoder’s funeral service yesterday afternoon. I knew about five people out of five hundred in attendance. I wore my Northern Aurora jacket, though, so my connection with Steve would be more obvious. I sat with Kristen used-to-be-Rebbeck, a former corpsmate of mine who actually marched in one of Steve’s winterguards. Made friends afterward with some Central Michigan students at the luncheon following, and met some of the Northcoast Academy members and staff. More on that later.

I’d already planned to take off of work on Friday and Monday, and Tuesday is Veteran’s Day. Five-day weekend for me… then I took off half a day on Thursday to drive out to freakin’ Wauseon — an hour’s drive out of BG by the Turnpike. But Loni called today and said she has a funeral to attend in Michigan on Monday afternoon, and asked if I could come in Monday afternoon so the rest of the department isn’t slammed too bad. So, I agreed. Only a half-day break in my five-day siesta. I can deal with that.

The Saginaires / Northern Aurora Alumni Yahoo! Group is taking off by leaps and bounds. Alumni are not only posting, but resolving their own issues, which makes me happy as Owner and Moderator. I hate having to step in and play peacemaker. You never know when it’s actually going to work, or if you’ll just piss off one or both parties involved. But that hasn’t been necessary, and the stories have been fun to read (for the most part). I’m glad that something I’ve done for the alumni is being recognized and appreciated so much.

spirituality

Samhain

You guys are gonna think I’m so weird…

First off, before you get too far, it’s pronounced \SOW-in\. ("Sow" rhymes with "cow.") Quite similar to what a deep southerner would answer if you asked her what she was doing with that needle and thread. (Although, after a little research, I think I prefer the Welsh pronunciation: Shah-VEEN.) And yes, it’s the Wiccan (or Pagan, if you prefer) holiday from which modern Halloween stems.

But let me begin at the beginning. (Hmm, this could be a long post…)

You all probably know about my on-again/off-again battle with my spirituality. When my mother left the Mormon Church while I was in high school, I clung to my own beliefs like a lifeline. In fact, at times I was so suicidal (reference teen angst poetry) that my belief system was all that kept me from attempting it. (That’s really creepy when I think about it now. *shiver*) When I came to college, I located the local Mormon church and kept attending services, but somehow it felt different. I stopped going after a semester or two. After taking Sociology 101, I came to realize that religion was mainly a social structure, a grouping of people with similar beliefs, and that religion at its most base and fundamental level was a means of teaching and controlling a population. By or around this point in my education, I was living with Amy, who basically turned from agnostic to atheist before my very eyes while we roomed together. All these factors together — Soc class, long talks with Amy, online research about my crackpot religion — eventually made me discard my Mormon upbringing.

No, not just Mormon. Christian. My mom about swallowed her tongue when I told her a couple years back that I didn’t believe that Jesus was the Son of God. I even had a long discussion with Gary (who holds an Associate Degree in Theology) about whether Jesus was a con man, a liar, or just plain crazy (or perhaps misled). I’m sure Mom and Gary think it’s a phase. I’ll let them go on thinking that.

Now, hoping I haven’t alienated any of my readership, I’ll move on…

About the same time I was discovering what I no longer believed in, I met Kelly. Kelly was a VCT major, and was in several of my classes with me. Kelly was also a Pagan, and had no qualms about telling you all about Paganism. (Interesting sidenote: Kris H. actually dated Kelly just before I met her, and she’d turned him off by talking incessantly about her religion. So, she is known in our circle of friends as "Pagan Kelly.")

Kelly introduced me to the Pagan Society at BGSU, and invited me to a meeting. This only reinforced my idea of religious meetings as social gatherings, although I felt more welcome there than I would have at Church. The dozen members of the Society (which has since split and disbanded) all had varying beliefs: some were Wiccan, some Druid, some were Taoist to an extent, and some (out of sheer perversity, I do believe) followed Norse practices. More than anything, that made me realize that a.) my belief system is my own, and b.) as such, I need to discover it for myself.

So, here I am. Back to my original topic of Samhain.

To preface (and I’m paraphrasing from what I’ve read and researched), Wicca is a neo-Pagan religion which gained popularity in the hippie era of the 60’s and 70’s. People felt a need to commune with nature, to shed their prohibitive Puritan upbringing, and opted to revert to the oldest form of nature-worship they could discover. Unfortunately, most non-Christian European religions were nearly obliterated during the early Christian Era, and no true followers of ancient religions remained. (A few isolated covens still operated in Europe, however, believing themselves the only remaining practitioners of their faith.) Through research, interpolation, and a little creativity, modern man managed to imitate the ancient religion of the Celts as early as the late 1800’s, albeit under an extreme vow of secrecy. Most Wiccans believe their version of the ancient religion to have been founded in the 1930’s or 40’s.

Wiccans observe eight holy days, or Sabbats, during the course of the year. The first of these is Samhain, October 31, which marks the final harvest and the beginning of Winter and the Pagan/Wiccan/Celtic New Year. This is a time where one communes with one’s ancestors, remembering those gone before, and makes resolutions for the upcoming year. Wiccans believe this is a time to invite ancestors to revisit the world of the living; hence, the creepy overtone of the undead.

Since learning a little about Wicca and Paganism in general, I find that, around Halloween, my thoughts gravitate toward those have passed on, and toward my genealogy and family history. I used to think only of my Granny (1911-1990) and my stepdad (1948-1995), but now I have my Memaw to think of, too (1933-2003). I don’t know what’s happened to them, or where they’ve gone, if anywhere. Heaven? Purgatory? The Elysian Fields? The Spirit World? Another dimension?

Oblivion?

Wherever they may be, I am bound and determined to keep their memories alive — even those ancestors I didn’t know. There are a few that I feel a certain kinship to, and I’m not quite sure why. My Mormon friends would tell me that they’re urging me from the Spirit World to finish their genealogy and Mormon temple work for them. I personally think I just find their lives and circumstances fascinating, and I can relate well to some of them.

So, I think I’m going to celebrate Samhain this year. I think I’m going to get out my three-ring-binder of genealogy and study my ancestry for an hour, surrounded by candles and photos of my family. Afterward, I’ll dig out the Tarot cards (and my trusty reference book) and give myself a reading — although Amy was always better at that than I. Then perhaps I’ll write a brief list of things I want to eliminate from my life in the coming year, and symbolically destroy the list (by fire if I’m feeling pyromanic). No, I won’t "cast a circle." No, I won’t "call the corners." No, I won’t supplant the Horned God or call upon the Ancient Ones. But it’ll be a nice little evening of reverance and remembrance while the rest of the nation is eating candy and burning couches.

Wicca links:
History of Wicca at religioustolerance.org
The Sabbats of Wicca

ruminations

Makes You Think…

I was all set to write an entry about how my neck had a crick in it all day (and still does) from how I slept last night, and how glad I was that today was only a 9-hour Monday instead of the normal twelve, yadda-yadda-yadda…

Then, from the Saginaires Alumni Yahoo! Group, the one that I started as a base for alumni of the drumcorps I used to march, I got this message:

Dear Friends,
It’s noon on Monday and I just got word that Steve Yoder is seriously ill in the hospital and in a coma. Everyone say a little prayer for Steve. Will update as possible.

Of course, several people (including me) chimed in and gave our best wishes to Steve and his family or friends or whoever he has with him. I went to the website of the indoor drumline he directs, which is under the same umbrella organization as our old drumcorps, and discovered that he’s been hospitalized for the past week and a half. He’s a relatively young guy, in his 40’s, so while I was concerned about him, I wasn’t worried, despite the fact that he was comatose.

Then, around 9pm, the same individual posted this message, which read in part:

I spoke to Danny Trepiak a couple of hours ago and understand that Steve is gravely ill and not expected to live. It could happen within "hours."

Whoa. I mean, I’m not personally close with Steve, but he directs the closest thing to my old drumcorps that there is: a kick-ass World Champion indoor drumline. I’ve worked with him before in alumni happenings, and have corresponded with him about alumni involvement and the aim of the drumline (and winterguard, when we had one). In that respect, he’s kind of like "Uncle Steve." He’s been a big part of why the umbrella organization up in Saginaw hasn’t completely folded, as the CEO is ready to retire from the Saginaires Youth Organization and step down eventually.

But I’m really concerned for the kids in his drumline. Last year, they were World Champions in their class, and this year they intend to move up a class from Independent Open to Independent World. After reading the posts from these kids (ages 16 to 20), I don’t think they realize what dire straits Steve is in. They fully expect Steve to be back and read their message board posts to him, and no one has posted there for the past week or so. I think they’re going to be shocked out of their wits if and when he passes, and in my opinion, it’s equal odds whether they’ll mourn and quit or choose to dedicate this season to Steve. …OK, maybe not equal odds — these kids are fighters, and they had a taste of greatness last year.

Anyway, the whole thing does give you something to think about.