fired!

So...I've been fired. Yeah. Not even joking. We've had to delay the opening of the store for a while (it just opened today, finally!) because my boss is majorly stupid. So I haven't really been working this entire time. I've just been collecting my unemployment. Which I was okay with. You know? I knew it wasn't gonna be forever so I was fine with it. And I was making some hours at the store, but I wasn't going to cash them in until after we opened, because I still wanted to collect my unemployment.

This past Sunday, however, after getting my first paycheck on Friday, after signing all the paperwork, my boss, Blu, calls her brother, Mike Lightyear, the guy that recommended me for the job, and tells him I am neither energetic or outgoing and not a good fit for the store. I'm not even joking. Me! Not energetic! Or outgoing! THE FUCK?!?!

When I heard that, I wanted to shit myself. I am so outgoing. I have energy for days. Anymore and I would be on crack, you know? And the reason Mike wanted to tell me, instead of Blu, was because he felt it was his responsibility since he had recommended me for the job. So, he said, I would no longer work there and that I had to improve on my energy for my next job if I "ever want to make it in this economy."

I don't buy it all. I am energetic. Fuck, I'm the best employee there is, or rather, was, at that store! I know labels, I know clothes and styles, I'm the only one who knows how to fully work the registers...I have years of retail experience. More so than Blu, who couldn't tell the difference between fake Louis Vuitton and real leather. So, if anything, I was fired for being too competent. But it doesn't matter anymore. The thing that does matter? I'm seriously fucked over.

And soon, Gwen will be too. After talking to Mike, I told Gwen everything and she was immediately in shock. Nothing Mike told me was true. And it scared her, because Mike gave Gwen the same type of talk. Apparently, Blu told Mike Gwen was never on time, she always left without saying anything and was basically a miserable excuse as a manger. Again, not true. I know Gwen has been busting her ass for the store and I've seen firsthand, the stress it has given her, so for Blu to call and say it's pathetic is so aggravating. It won't be long before we're sharing the same boat.

I'm all the way across the country away from my family, away from everything and everyone I know and I'm jobless. I don't know how I'm gonna pay rent, how I'm gonna eat or, well, basically survive. I don't know what to do. I've been looking on Craigslist and Monster.com for jobs, but I haven't heard back. And it sucks even more because I don't have a car. My mode of transportation in Tucson, because the job I was supposed to have is only two blocks away from my apartment, so there was no need for a car. But now? Fuck...

So, I don't know what to do right now. I'm just really scared and I don't know what to tell my family. I was just talking to them on Sunday telling them we were opening on Thursday and I was excited and now everything is just...gone. Just, gone.

mid-west, my way

The other week, I had time off and since my good friend Hadassah was on Spring Break, we decided to meet up in Chicago. And it was one of the best times I have ever had in a very long time.

I took the Megabus from Milwaukee to Chicago, which is this bus people in the Mid-West take to get from cornfield to city. It's like a regular bus, except the Mexicans and Black people try to sell you bootleg DVD's. Which isn't so bad, especially since I really haven't had time to go see Coraline.

We stayed at The Avenue Hotel, off of Magnificent Mile, which is a really beautiful avenue with great shopping and amazing restaurants like The Ralph Lauren Bar & Grill Restaurant, which is designed to look like a classic English library.We actually spent the first night sleeping in the hotel room. The pillows were so soft and the beds were so inviting, a quick catnap turned into an all night snooze fest. So much for painting the town red.

But we awoke the next morning, refreshed and rejuvinated and set out to explore the city. We ate at the world famous Lou Mitchell's, visited the Shedd Aquarium, rode the Red Line to Chinatown and pub crawled in Wrigleyville. And before we knew it, the weekend was over and it was time for Hadassah to visit Milwaukee, my new home.

Showning my new home and the way I live was very exciting for me. I got to show and share with my friend where I shopped for food, how I spent my evenings, and basically how I lived my new life. I've never been able to do that before, mostly because I've always lived in the same city. I felt like such a grown up, like a citizen of the world. And since Gwen knew Hadassah from back home, it was like having a small Tucson reunion in our small apartment. And it was made even better when Hadassah cooked us an authentic Mexican dinner, a la Tucson style. God, how much I miss food cooked with real butter.

Gwen and I decided to spend Hadassah's last night in the Mid-West in Chicago for St. Patrick's, more specifically, Wrigleyville. So, we met up with Gwen's cousin Gabriella and her boyfriend John. We started off at Harry Caray's Tavern

and ended up at Houndstooth Bar, making sure to hit every bar and pub on the way for Irish Car Bombs. By mid-afternoon, we were so wasted and so gone and so was my iPhone. Gwen lost her cell phone too and her jacket and by the looks of things, I doubt either one of us will ever see those things again. I also ended up with the strangest bruises I don't remember getting, which led to painful swelling and a cankle. Gross.Yet? I wouldn't change any part of my weekend for anything!

three's not company

Last week, Gwen and I got a new roommate. It was her dog Emma, from back home. Gwen's cousin Gabriella moved to Chicago and took Emma along for the drive. I knew Gwen was bringing along her dog, since we looked for an apartment that was dog friendly, for both our dogs. Only, I didn't know how big her dog was.

When we arrived at Gabriella's brownstone in Lincoln Park, I finally got to see Emma for the first time. A big, black border collie mix that had full run of the first floor. None of Emma's furniture was moved in yet, so Emma was able to run across the foyer, the living room and the open kitchen. Immediately, I began to wonder how well she would fare in our tiny apartment. A dog that size needs room to run around and stuff. And though our back door does lead down to a flight of stairs and an open backyard, there is no fence that blocks our backyard from the side of the building and to the open street.

After we got back home from Chicago, the damaging effects of having a new "roommate", began to unfold. To Gwen, Emma is an adorable spaz. To me, Emma is a big, fat, slobbering idiot. Like Marmaduke or Beethoven, only not as charming or witty or box-office worthy. She chews on everything. Everything. And the reason behind that is because Gwen spoils her like she's worth it. Before Emma came, Gwen spent over $150 on toys and treats at Petsmart, which, if you ask me, was money not well spent. Especially since Emma is nowhere near trained. Or even smart. The other day, she did the exact same thing as the dog in the following video.

She doesn't listen to Gwen, she destroys her toys to oblivion and leaves large pieces of stuffing all over the floor, and she eats out of the trash. Sure, she's only two years old, so she's still in her puppy phase, but if you take a week, like this week, while Gwen is on her period, it's gross coming home and seeing a menstrual blood-stained tampon greeting you on the bathroom floor. But Gwen shrugs it off, as she rubs Emma's head and says, "Oh Emmy Spaghetti..."

What's most upsetting is that I'm the one having to watch Emma. With the opening of the store just a few days away, Gwen has been super busy making sure all important documents are being processed, all licenses are up to code, and that our first day of business is nothing but smooth sailing. She's gone for hours at a time, driving all across town, leaving Emma all alone with me. Not that I don't like helping out from time to time, but it's getting a little overwhelming. I didn't come all the way to Milwaukee to be a dog walker.

It would suck worse, if Gwen didn't constantly thank me for helping her out, but I just can't stand her dog. She's one of the worst dog's I've ever met. She doesn't bite me or bark out of control. She's just annoying. Last week, I found my "Special Limited Edition 'Friends' DVD Party Box Set" recipe cards that I got as a graduation present from my aunt, ripped and torn and strewn all across the living room floor. Emma found it in the living room bookcase and just had it. It made me so mad, but I knew there was nothing I could do. I mean, I couldn't hit the dog, without having my face posted across national TV and being labeled as an animal abuser. So, I took the higher approach.

I stopped paying attention to Emma. I stopped petting her. I stopped rubbing her stomach. I stopped throwing her toys for her to run after and bring back. And if you have ever had a puppy before, you know that ignoring them is absolutely killer to them. But I didn't care. Those recipe cards were only sold at Target in 2004, when Friends ended its 10 year run on television! They don't make them anymore! UGH!

And the thing is, I love dogs. I even have one back home, whom I miss, oh, so much. Lucy would never pull any of the shenanigans that Emma pulls. Of course, she could never reach the inside of a trashcan, but that's not the point. Lucy listens. She only squeaks her toys and never tears them up in a million pieces. And she's smart enough to know used tampons don't taste like cherry-flavored tootsie roll pops.

So, if any of you are wondering how I'm doing in Milwaukee, yes, I am having a mental fight with a dog. And yes, I miss Lucy.

testing, one, two, three

Last week, my roommate Gwen and I were doing our weekly grocery shopping, when we walked down the personal hygiene aisle and saw the two for one condom sale. Double the amount of protected sex for the price of a Venti Caramel Macciatto. That's when Gwen made the comment that every time she's hung out with Jack, he's always had a new package of condoms on the coffee table. Ew. And yet she still went over to his house. Gross.

Apparently, Gwen had been seeing Jack again. She wanted to let him know, more than anything, if they decided to stop having sex, she cherished his friendship for she saw a smart and kind soul in him. Guess the sex was that good. Still, I pointed out to Gwen that condoms last for a while, as obvious to the one I have from middle school. If he was constantly changing them out, it was obvious he was using them with other people. And that's when Gwen said it was good he was using protection, because the three times they had sex, they never used a condom.

Jack said he was clean and Gwen knew she was on birth control, so of course, all was good. And then after they had sex, they rode off onto a rainbow on their matching glittering unicorns, while eating non-weight gaining, chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. At her age, did she really believe everything a guy told her? And if that was true then Gwen really needed to get tested and see if she was a walking sexually transmitted disease.

So, she made an appointment, for both her and myself. She said it would be a fun-roommate-bonding-type thing to do. Yeah. Because knowing if whether or not you'll have to take large amounts of Kaletra or Hydrea for the rest of your life is always fun. I didn't wanna take the test. Not that I've been having a lot of sex, but if you only knew how they administer the test to men, you wouldn't want to take it either. Plus, who wants to hear they have gonorrhea? And if nothing itches or smells funny, then it should all be good, right?

Thursday night, we went to the free clinic. It was so nerve wracking to sit in an empty doctor's office, awaiting for my number to be called and have a college-aged medical professional tell me my fate. And yet, Gwen seemed to remain calm. She wasn't worried. She felt healthy, so she was obviously okay. But I was healthy too, so why I was worried? I wasn't the one having unprotected sex and that weird cough I got the other week was because I was just thirsty. Right? Right?! Unfortunately, I never found out because when my number was called, they discovered they "were all out of free tests," which let me breathe a big sigh of relief. So, they sent both Gwen and I to BestD on Brady, a gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgendered and questioning friendly testing center, where apparently it was boys night out. Or girls night, depending on how one views such things.

At this clinic, patients were called out by a series of three letters of their choosing. Gwen chose G-E-N and I chose W-T-F. Why the flip was I doing this again? For a "fun" roommate bonding experience? At that point, I realized maybe Gwen asked me to do the test with her because deep down, she knew she could have something since she wasn't having safe sex. I immediately felt better. Call it schendenfreude if you will, but I felt this wave of tranquility come over me and I knew my test would come out negative, in the good way. And it did. And so did Gwen's test, who cried tears when she got her results. Except, she had to stay a little bit longer with a counselor who explained to her the dangers of unprotected sex. Apparently, Milwaukee ranks as the number one city in the U.S. for chlamydia and number three for gonorrhea. Guess we know now, how folks here pass the time during the winter months.

So, Gwen and I decided to abstain from sex during our time here. It makes sense, since apparently head cheese grows as rapid as the cheese they cultivate here. And with that lovely image burned into your head, it's time to end this post.