*some words are not in the dictionary. 2001-06-12 8:39 p.m.*

i have a job. la la la. possibly the same company that hired jennifer connelly, though possibly not. a little less money an hour, a different sort of interview. i went in at 2, and found out that i had to sign in and fill in an application. i did all that, and more people filed in. i looked around the room and finally discovered that the job was for selling cutlery. but yes, so i waited and chatted with some of the people. got called in with this guy, this friendly but antsy-as-hell guy, to talk with the woman. she talked to us both for a few minutes. then she talked to him, and i looked all attentive at what they both had to say (if i just remind myself that people are inherently fascinating, i can look very attentive. because whoops, i am.). and then she said she'd look over his application, blah blah blah, if you don't get a call in 24-48 hours, that means we haven't hired you. she talks to me. i treat her like a potential friend. i think that's why the first woman at target loved me so much. we discuss my application. she tells me it's a job where, even though we don't go door to door, we do sell at people's homes. will i be able to get there, without a car? yeah, sure, yeah, of course i can. yeah. well, we have a longer interview, it's 60 minutes long, there's one after these interviews, would you like to stay? yes. we shake hands, i leave. i wait. mom walks by. i peek my head out. "it'll be at least another hour. go home watch general hospital come back get me. it should be done by then." wait longer. watch people go into her office. everyone except for one boy stays, which is funny because before that i was the first person to stay and i was the 3rd or 4th interview, i think. wait. last person. comes out and waits with us. we see into her office through this little window. she shuffles papers, etc. comes out. tells us to sit around this desk "like dinner." we do. i'm closest on my side. across from me is this friendly black guy with a labret piercing and stretched ear piercings. he goes to mcc, because he talked for awhile before with someone about mcc. he's majoring in film and computers to do computer animation. i like him. i want to talk to him more. there's also a girl who looks all preppy, but i'm fascinated when she says she's going to airline school. "i'm working to be a flight attendant, and then after a few years of that i'd like to be a pilot." neat! and a shy black girl sits next to me and i want to hug her. and there's a sweetfaced girl with a 3 month old son. otherwise, kind of scarytothelittlegirlinsideofme boys. a lot of them. she talks. she asks us about ourselves. (i learned some of this stuff from this part and some from our earlier application filling out talking.) she shows us the product. the scissors cut a penny. the knife cuts through rope in just a few strokes. try it try it try it. i cut the rope. inside there's still a bit of me who is terrified of knives will i be selling knives how weird as i cut the rope. but i do it. 2 strokes. one big one and then one to cut the rest of the threads. i will be selling to a lot of meat eaters i bet. but that's not the point. the scissors come apart for easy cleaning. i take the scissors apart, put them together, take them apart, put them together, take them apart, they jam as i try to put them together, i take them apart again and they go back together easily. i put them back. i am always the last person as she passes things around. cool black guy = first. the product has a forever guarantee. that's better than a lifetime guarantee. have i mentioned that i'm taking notes and answering questions partially because she told us to, partially because i can make myself damn interested if i want to i really actually was interested that's why i always looked like a suck up in high school it was genuine overeagerness. she shows us the catalogue. knives, knives, black and white handles, tableware, baking stuff, gardening supplies, the fisherman's... friend? solution? i don't know. the notes are here somewhere. it's a flexible knife in a thing you can snap through your belt. the thing sheath? has a sharpener, and you can cut line with it because there's a notch in the sheath where the blade kind of shows. i want one and i don't fish. i don't want to fish. i don't like knives. but i want this one. it reminds me of the way this one guy puts cream cheese on his bagel. it fascinates me. but yeah.... have i mentioned that the blade design is patented? 3 blades on the serated edge. part of me is impressed. part of me is angered. if it's so good, why not share? why patent? it goes on. she tells us about the pay and what we'll have to do and that there's training this thursday-saturday, etc., etc. okay, turn your papers over and answer these 2 questions. what 3 things impressed me? what 3 things do i want to gain from this job? 1.1.the product. 2. it looks fun. 3.the money. 2.1.getting over residual high school shyness. 2. helping people by giving them a good product and i see from your poster that you give money to help the hungry. 3. the money. except my answers were a bit longer. she calls me in for the interview. "questions?" "tell me more about appointment setting. is it really as fun as it looks?" (i am on crack)... she replies. "well, let me tell you the things i liked about your interview (oh no... starting with the good news, gonna end with the bad news, regretful tone of voice, i want to run out crying right now). good eyecontact, you seem friendly, you listened well." pause pause pause. forever. "i'd love to hire you as part of our team." we shake hands. i thank her, gush too much, don't make a whole lot of sense, leave glowing, though i know it's a dumb job. i've got a nice bridge in brooklyn now.

meanwhile, new glasses which remind mom of first grade boys when she was growing up. remind me of certain scenes that i don't belong to, but i don't care i like my glasses. but they remind me that i have no bridge on my nose. i have to push them up more. and they're so darn thick that my eyelashes hit them. i don't have featherlight lenses because i'm that person in 1000 who hates the way things look through them. it's good to have peripheral vision back, though helluv weird. but yeah, peripheral vision in exchange for half inch thick lenses. i can deal with it.

i did some more tarot readings, and they surprise me with how suddenly applicable they seem. usually when i do my own tarot cards, i say "um... this doesn't make a whole lot of sense in my situation." but these seem to, and i'm like "hm.... maybe my intuition and divinatory skills are sharpening. hm..." so all is excitement.

and emails from the girl do my heart good.

more zines read today, melt the snow #12 and quantify 2. i enjoy. one made me dream of lives other than my own. the other enraged and inspired me. i have to ask if i can use a quote from one here. stay tuned.

*listening to: *
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