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Friday, As the odometer rolls
Um. . .I'm making up for two years of being carless? Whatever. Oddly enough, reading Secra's journal got me to thinking about a problem I've been having with the Hoosiermobile. The handling started getting really sluggish a few weeks ago, like the tracking was off or about to go off, so after reading her entry about the difference a few ounces of air made in her bike tires, I finally had the brainstorm to stop and check the 'mobile's feet. Can you say, "Seriously underinflated?" Oopsie. So I brought all the wheels back up to 30 psi and man, you can tell the difference -- felt like I was driving a new car all over again. It's my own damn fault, really -- what with the trip to Chicago, the trip to Austin for Rachel's birthday party, and last weekend's trip to Houston for Consortium, it makes sense that the tires would be running out of air. I have to get back into the swing of being a car owner again and check these things before you go on a trip. And I'm mentioning all of this because -- ta da -- I went on yet another trip this weekend, back down to Austin to have dinner with Faz and Janis, members of the Starfleet Ladies' Auxiliary and Embroidery/Baking Society (aka "the longest running slumber party in history"). Janis was interviewing today for a webmistressing job at one of the universities down there, and as I had to miss her last visit due to being too depressed from my acute joblessness to leave the house (more on that later), there was no way in hell I was going to skip out on this opportunity. And what an opportunity it was -- they were kind enough to wait for me before going out to dinner, and we wound up spending the entire evening talking about feminism, sex, cultural conditioning, slash fiction, and why Janis should write that book on women's roles in western cultures, dammit. When we weren't giggling insanely, musing on the joys of making sweet young things moan, and coming up with an adventure story about a group of het, bi and gay women who go out, have incredible adventures while their pretty, sweet boyfriends and girlfriends wait for them at home, and if any of them dies it's in a blaze of glory saving the Earth. Maybe you just had to be there. Then again, I am a werelesbian now, so I can write something like this.
Job? Did you say job?
In the end I was told to go home, add pertinent phrases and descriptions to my resume that will catch the eye of the hiring manager, include some of the neato stuff I've done with Flash and such, and send it back to them this weekend so that they can forward it to the company Monday morning. Keep your fingers crossed, folks -- this sounds like an incredibly fun job for me.
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My
poor Corolla -- it's only four months old and I already have 7,800
miles on it. After this weekend, I'm going to have to take it in
and get another oil change -- and my last one was on June 17.
Well,
no, but I did have another headhunter interview today. It's a contract
job as a tech writer with serious graphics and web design responsibilities
for a rather humongous entertainment company in downtown Dallas,
and I think I nailed the interview -- the recruiter, who happens
to be related by marriage to someone at the company, kept saying,
"And you can do this? And this? And this? Put it on
your resume -- this is meat, honey!"
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