Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

Weekend Report, February 17-19

So 2012 is off to a pretty good start. While I was up at Chattacon, I got an email from a legal staffing agency asking if I'd be interested in a temp gig at a large law firm to do scanning, copying, FedEx labels and other scutwork for about a week and a half. I figured hey, that's at least less money I'll have to borrow from Mom and Dad at the end of the month, and I showed up bright and early Monday morning.

I was one of two temps. The immigration department of a large law firm was tackling a labor-intensive project that I will not go into details about because I am a professional. We printed out documents and letters and check requests and FedEx labels and scanned filings that were being prepared for mailing. (The firm keeps most of their files electronically, but immigration law still has a heck of a paper trail.)

The work started to slow down by Tuesday, but I'd apparently made a very good impression and I figured I'd be able to get some better assignments now that I have reminded them how awesome I am.

By the first day of February, the second temp was gone and I was still there. The lawyer in charge of my tempage had me look up patents for an O-1 filing. A day or so after that, she came into the office I'd been using and closed the door behind her.

I swear I practicaly flinched. I asked, in a small voice, if there was anything wrong. I asked with just enough exaggeration to make it look like a joke, but just enough humility to clearly mean every word.

Lawyer Awesome (as I shall be describing her here) told me no, there's no problem, in fact, she was just wondering . . . was I looking for permanent work?

I told her what I told the last person to ask me that question. "Is there really such a thing anymore?"

She laughed. And then she asked again, if they were to offer me permanent work, would I be interested? I assured her that I would certainly be amenable to such an offer and I'd be just as fine as a long-term temp, as long as I'm earning enough to keep the bills paid.

I still refused to get my hopes up until I asked Lawyer Awesome how much longer they'd be needing me and she gave me a look and said "Forever . . . ?"

tl;dr - I'm being trained to become an Immigration paralegal and I'll be paid through the temp agency while they get me up to speed. It's like a paid internship, except that it doesn't suck.

I'm still adjusting to the huge shift in my schedule. I have to set an alarm if I want to get in the Three Daily Pages I've grown accustomed to doing as my morning routine. (However, I'm glad to find that I can still get in all three pages over breakfast and make it to work on time. That was the one morning ritual I was afraid of losing to full-time employment.) I'm still figuring out the best ways to manage my energy levels and still have enough left to work on my novels and other projects.

Most of those projects got thrown off when my computer gave up the ghost in the machine and I had to survive on iPad and iPhone until I could purchase a new computer. Which is, by the way, a really bad time to get clobbered over the head with the idea of rewriting your novel again. (Thank heavens for backups and friends who will make the effort to dig up that PDF you sent them.) Two reassuring phone calls to my credit card company and my credit union later (at least the credit union had a live human being ask me about that purchase at the Apple Store instead of an automated voice saying SOMETHING TERRIBLE HAS HAPPENED! YOU MUST CALL US NOW!) and I have a lovely new MacBook Pro to plot world domination on.

Which is a hell of a prelude to my weekend report, which I am determined to write down on a more regular basis here. You might call this entry a test drive to see how much of a Monday night it can take.

So. Friday night I was supposed to riffing on The Room but the fine tradition of Sudden Death Cineprov! was invoked to mark the passing of Whitney Houston. The movie was changed to The Bodyguard and thus I had to riff a movie I'd never seen before in my life. The movie itself was hilariously bad, which gave us plenty to make fun of. I did pretty well. When Kevin Costner was talking to somebody while casually pointing a gun in the guy's general direction, I filled in the dramatic pause after I can tell you one thing with the words "I know nothing about gun safety." There's something deeply satisfying about a roomful of people laughing at something clever you came up with. (Maybe I should give stand-up a try. I could certainly do better than some of the comedians I've come across.)

Saturday I decided that I wanted to take advantage of my monthly MARTA card and take the train down to the High Museum to give Picasso to Warhol another go. My previous trip had been on a Sunday afternoon and was more crowded than I would have liked. Saturday morning wasn't much better, but the crowd ebbed and flowed in such a way that I was able to find enough space to function and take things in. I noted in my catbook that Picasso painted Girl Before a Mirror when he hit fifty. The stuff that he did as a twenty something art school punk are [sic] pleasant enough but also hidden in the back of the gallery. Midlife is when the iconic work came. Midlife. There's time enough in the world for anything. (I was even more delighted to realize that Matisse's cut paper work was done when he was in his eighties.)

I splurged on lunch at the fancy restaurant attached to the museum and was going to go back and try to give the Andy Warhol screen tests another go from beginning to end. On the way to the museum building, I paused to take a picture of the big crazy statue they have there (I'm probably going to turn it into my *facepalm* icon.) I opened Twitter so I could tell the world about it, but I have this compulsive urge to read my feed before I post so I glanced over what Twitter had been up to and found out that a screening of Sweet Sweetback's Baadasssss Song (thank you Wikipedia, for helping me spell it correctly) was happening at 2:00 that afternoon. This is why I love Twitter. I didn't even need to tweet the photo after that.

I got in free with my museum membership. I showed up unfashionably early, found a seat in the theater, scribbled in my catbook, drew a flower as I waited and, frankly, enjoyed having a quiet place to sit for a while.

The movie was, um, a few film degrees worth of disturbing implications. Let's just say I needed a quiet place to sit for a while after the movie, too. I curled up on a leather chair in a Starbucks, drank a strawberry smoothie and posted a blanket excuse note on my writing blog so I could go home and take a nap with a clear conscience.

I took MARTA home and flopped on my couch with the lights low and Flux + Mutability on the stereo and set my iPad alarm to wake me in case I fell asleep. Then I got up, freshened myself and headed down to Decatur to see Mr. Jay and his other cover band play. I ordered dinner there and heard a certain husky British accented voice yelling at somebody about something. I looked and saw the haircut. Yup. Mod Boy was there.

I didn't particularly want to push my way through the crush of people to talk to him, so I found a cosy seat where I could bear down and write and figured he'd pass by and say howdy eventually.

Intuition tapped me on the shoulder. Go talk to Mod Boy.

You may not believe me when I tell you that my response was I don't wannnaaaa. But it wasn't that I didn't want to talk to him, it was that I didn't want to have to go to the effort. I decided I needed to drink a Sprite and I pushed up to the bar to get one. The nearest gap where I could lean in to order was right next to Mod Boy. Mod Boy said hello, and proceeded to excuse himself. I stole his seat while I waited for my Sprite, on the basis that he may never come back to reclaim it.

But he did come back and I hopped down and apologized for knocking his jacket off. He put it over the seat and asked if I needed to sit. I admitted that I did (I was still a bit wobbly from waiting so late to eat) and he offered his seat to me. The seat next to that one opened up and he sat down in it.

We talked about the books we were writing. I think I may be doomed to fall in love with him.

Eventually, true to form, he got up to wander and talk to other people but I didn't feel rejected by it. I went back to my cosy table and scribbled a bit while the band played and listened as Mod Boy and Captain Blurt did some guitar work with the band. (I couldn't be bothered to move from where I was sitting so I could watch them play at that point.) I decided that I would wait until they played "Dear Prudence", I would dance like a fool to it and then call it a night and go home.

That was the plan. This is what happened instead. I was headed towards the bathroom when I crossed paths with Mod Boy and he said goodnight to me. I asked if he was leaving, he said he was pretty much stuck there until the band broke down and I told him I was waiting until "Dear Prudence" and calling it a night. We started talking about writing again. He was making noises about wanting to read Soft Places and offering a chapter of his own book in return. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours," I told him.

"Dear Prudence" began and I didn't dance because I was too busy talking about books with Mod Boy. When the song ended, I asked him if he'd like to walk me to my car.

No, I did not end up making out with him on the hood. Would have been lovely but no. However, he did kiss me goodnight. Twice. On the mouth. His idea.

As he walked away, he was still talking about sending me a chapter from his book.

"I'LL SHOW YOU MINE IF YOU SHOW ME YOURS!" I called after him.

I closed the door, started the car and laughed hysterically for several minutes.

Sunday was the usual, plus Jungian mandalas and reading a poem at Java Monkey.

The office I'm working at takes President's Day off (I joked with Mod Boy that I was taking his birthday off), so today was a lot of sleep and recovery. And writing.

Today I took pleasure in switching off the alarm and going back to bed.

Today I learned a much easier way to set up a playlist in iTunes.


( 3 comments — Leave a comment )
Feb. 21st, 2012 02:58 am (UTC)
That's fantastic news about the internship, babe!! Almost as fantastic as you & Mod Boy *ahem* showing off for each other. ;)
Feb. 21st, 2012 03:21 am (UTC)

On both fronts. Big Sister is way proud of you.
Feb. 21st, 2012 05:15 am (UTC)
Congrats on the new position! And you lead such an innnnteresting life. Go you!
( 3 comments — Leave a comment )