david strikes back

I did something kinda bad. Okay, really, horribly, terribly bad. And the surprising thing about it? I really don't have any remorse. Has Milwaukee changed me that much? And if so, has it been for the worse?

As most of you already know, I've been busy for the past month, filling out applications and sending my resume to everywhere I could think of. And during that time, I've been thinking a lot about Blu and how she totally screwed up my situation in Milwaukee for petty reason. I personally believe Blu didn't like the fact that her brother told her, that two people from Tucson would help her open her store and she didnt have a say in it, either way. And since she had to accept it, since her brother was providing the financial funds for her store, she did. That is, until after all the major "before" work had been completed and I filled out the proper paperwork, canceling my unemployment, she decided to have me and Gwen fired. Fortunately, she only half succeeded, because my roommate Gwen didnt get fired, even though Blu claimed she was lazy, rude, and incompetent. 

It wasn't fair that Blu went on living like this, as an evil, vindictive, lying, manipulative and spiteful person. Trying to make the lives of innocent people, difficult. Originally, Gwen was to be the manager of the store, but Blu had other plans. She made her best friend Annette, a hippie with no retail or management experience, the manager, putting her above Gwen. And since Blu and Annette have absolutely no idea what they're doing, they put all the blame on Gwen and stress her out more than she should be. It's just not right. 

And Gwen, could quit. In fact, she's even come home from work, saying she's had enough, but then, what good would it do us, if we were both out of a job? Already, I felt like Pam, from The Office...no good if we both felt like her.

Blu had to be taught a lesson, the lesson being, you do not mess around with me, my family or my friends. And if taught well, a lesson can impact the way a person continues with the way they live their life. So, I took matters into my own hands. 

I dressed the part of a business person who had a layover in Milwauke, went to the historic Hilton Hotel in downtown and rented a suite. Once in the room, I opened up my Mac and began to write a "Dear Guest, thank you for staying with us..." letter, only the guests name would be that of Blu's husband. The room provided me with stationary and an envelope, which made it look more official and since I've been a welcomed guest in many a hotel, I knew exactly what to stay. I even included a paragraph about a free night's stay, just so long as he brought in the letter and the included reference number. 

I checked out of the room within two hours, claiming the airport had called me with a standby ticket and didn't have to pay a single cent. Still, my plan called for a hotel receipt, which I made sure I had in my hand before I left. With the letter and receipt in tow, I awaited for the perfect moment to set off my plan. According to Blu's husband's Facebook account, he'd be out of town for the weekend, "goin' to see some buds," so with a few photo shop skills, I changed the date on the hotel receipt to make it look like he never left and knowing that he and Blu lived a couple blocks away, I casually left the receipt inside the doggie door...okay, I think I've said enough.

Work has never been better for Gwen. Blu has had other things to deal with, and apparently, the store has been more productive. None of the employees are stressed, people are coming in more because "the mean lady who is off-putting" is no longer around and there has been a noticeable increase in sales. 

Despite those facts, I know a lot of comments will be negative. And though there may be a few that don't agree with how I did things, I did it because I wanted to prove that I am not a force to mess with. Especially, when it comes to my well-being or my friends. I guess you could say, I'm not someone that you want as an enemy. Before coming to Milwaukee, I never would have thought of doing something like this. This city sure has changed me...

grey gardens

Normally, I don't like to blog short posts, only because I write as much as I talk in real life. But I have to make a little rave.

Tonight, on HBO, Grey Gardens, a movie based on the lives that inspired the Maysles Brothers' classic documentary, will finally premiere! If you've a fan of the documentary, this seems to me, to be a really nice companion piece. I saw it when I was in grade school, and my mom rented it from the library, thinking it was "The Secret Garden," and I've been a fan ever since. Total cult classic. Maybe the clothing choices is a little out there, but I love the overall eccentric-ness of it all.

The movie tells the story of "Big Edie" Beale and her daughter "Little Edie," who were relatives of Jackie O, and made interesting and devastating choices in life, forging a unique bond while living in a ramshackle East Hampton mansion.

It stars Jessica Lange and Drew Barrymore. Yes, that Drew Barrymore. She’s ridiculously adorable. You want to hate her, but you JUST CAN’T. She did crazy child star RIGHT. And from the previews, her acting talents prove she was born from Hollywood royalty.

It premieres tonight and probably for the rest of spring, and I hope you all get the chance to see it!

an easter carol

Last year, I spent Easter at the Vatican. This year? Well, it sure ain't the Vatican. And that's just how life is. One moment, you're in Italy, eating a Margherita pizza in the Piazza della Signoria and the next, you're eating tuna out of a can, waiting by your computer to see if you're emailed resume was accepted. Or, if you're a celebrity, one moment you're marrying an A-List television star with matching hair highlights, the next you're at the Oscars, sitting front row with your new love and your ex-wife is on stage as a presenter.

But since I'm not a celebrity and just a regular person, I've been doing the former for the past few weeks, looking for a job. And for some reason, that's when I started thinking about church. It had been forever since I've gone to church. Before, I went almost every Sunday to church with my family, but ever since I've moved here...Sunday seems to just pass on by. I think it's a living on your own type of thing. With no parents around, you forget about doing the little things, like going to church, eating your vegetables, making sure the hooker your paid for leaves after the first hour, so she doesn't charge for the hours she sleeps over.

Not being of the Catholic faith, I didnt wan't to go to the cathedral across my apartment. The bells ring too early and when it's noon, it rings for a full two minutes, which makes it that much harder to sleep in. No, I wanted to find a place that was charming and quaint, and had at least a handful of well-dressed, fashionable people. That's when I saw it. St. Paul's Episcopal Church. It was a beautiful sanctuary made out of red Lake Superior sandstone with tall angel statues greeting you at the front entrance along with detailed, original Tiffany's stained glass windows. And a lady, wearing a rabbit coat, walked into the small garden where the church office was located so I knew I would spend Easter there.

On the way to St.Paul's, I realized I didn't have any money for the offering. I never carry cash, since it always gets wrinkled and crinkled in my pocket and I never seem to have enough when I approach the cashier. And unless the church had an ATM, I was gonna have to do that awkward oh-darn-what-pocket-did-I-put-my-wallet-in, dance. So, in a short, succinct prayer, I told God that whatever money I found on the ground, on the way to church, I would put that in the offering, thinking I would find a couple of coins, at the very least. I didn't. But on the way back from church, I found $10 bucks laying on the street.

I took it as a sign. Maybe my luck was changing. Maybe, if I kept my promise to God about giving any money I found on the street to the church, things would start to change. At this point, I was desperate to believe in any signs that came my way and so I knew I had to go back.to St. Paul's. And I did. I was hoping to catch someone during the church's half-hour long, noon prayer and meditation service, but when I got to St. Paul's, they were closed. The double wooden doors wouln't budge. I spent half an hour walking around the building, trying to find some way in, when I saw a FedEx delivery guy leaving the church office. The door closed, before I could reach it and so, I buzzed the front bell to be let in. But nothing. Then, a black girl with a bad weave came limping up the pathway on crutches, and I knew, surely, they wouldn't turn us away from a church. If only we had a scarecrow and a tin man to accompany us...

But we didn't and still, no one came to the front door. We rang and rang the buzzer and knocked on the door, but nothing. I even stuck my hand through the mail slot, hoping I could push open the door. But that didn't work. The black crippled girl with a bad weave, eventually left and I went around the back to see if I could find anyone else. And this time I did.

It was security. They were called by the secretary, who saw me put my hand through the mail slot, and thought I was trying to commit a B & E - breaking and entering. Apparently, it's custom for a church to be closed the Monday after Easter Sunday and since the church has a daycare and Pre-K and Kindergarten class, the secretary became worried. I admit, sticking my hand through the mail slot wasn't the best idea, but I was just trying to find a way to give the $10 bucks to the church offering. The secretary and security personal found my story of telling God I would put whatever money I found on the street a little weird and a little odd, even after I showed them the mud-stained, crinkled dollar. But it was the honest-to-God truth!

Walking home, I wondered what went wrong. I mean, the $10 had to be a sign. Nobody finds $10 on the street, out of the blue. Especially after promising to give it to God. I felt depressed all over again. I tried to do something with good intentions and it totally backfired. I don't know what went wrong. But as soon as I turned my computer on, I got an email for an interview for a front desk position, this Friday! No good deed, goes unpunished. If only my black cripple friend with the bad weave were here to say, "God bless us, everyone..."

hope

It's been almost three weeks since I got that un-fateful call, that told me my services for the store, the store I had changed my entire life for, were no longer needed. And since that time, I've been searching relentlessly for a job. I'm not ready to move back to Tucson. I know, the easiest and probably most obvious answer, would be to call my parents and let them know that I have been fired and that I don't have the slightest idea of what I'm doing.

But a part of me doesn't want to.

Part of me, wants to hold out and wait for as long as I can. To see how far I can go, all on my own. You know, before I have to call mommy and daddy.

I want to take care of myself. I want to be able to live on my own. To make my own rules. To live my own life.

But it's been hard when no one responds to your applications or your resume. You start to lose faith. You start to lose hope. You start to wonder if you are indeed doing the right thing or if you're just being foolish and stubborn. And with the one month of being unemployed in a city far away from home fast approaching, that's what I've been wondering.

Should I give myself a deadline? Something along the lines of, if I can't find a job by a certain time, I should give up? I mean, it wouldn't be fair to my roommate Gwen if I just stuck around the apartment, rent free. Already, she's spent quite a lot this month. Her truck needed an overhaul, she cracked a tooth in half from eating day-old popcorn and found out she has two cavities and needs a filling. Her idiot-dog chewed her entire comforter and bed sheets to shreds and if that wasn't bad enough, the idiot-dog ate something out of the trash and threw up all over the living room, which got real deep into the carpet.

So as Gwen continues to live her lavish lifestyle, I find myself in a situation only Zack and Miri could understand. But I could never bring myself to do a porno. Of course, easier said then done, right? I was thinking this to myself as I walked the streets of downtown to fill out an application for a front desk position at the Hyatt Hotel. And right there, on the corner of Van Buren St. and Ogden Ave. at the bus stop, was a quote imprinted at the top of the awning:

"Never give up, for that is just the place and time that the tide will turn."
--Harriet Beecher Stowe

It was just the kind of a sign, only fate could have put before me. And it was just the kind of hope I needed. Wish me luck...

great and wonderful things

So, I'm back on the job hunt. I never thought I'd be back here, humbling myself to be worthy to the unworthy of Milwaukee. But I am. I so wanted to be here so much, I'm swallowing all my pride and applying for jobs I would have never given a second thought. Cafeteria worker at a nursing home. Custodian technician at a daycare center. Wal-Mart. All of which, are very respectable ways of earning money, but it's not the way I ever saw myself earning money.

When I was in the third grade, my teacher Ms. Cloud, gave us an assignment to write a one page essay, in cursive, what we wanted to be when we grew up and why. Greg Scotts said he wanted to be a garbage man because they make a lot of money. Kylie Byrd said she wanted to own a jewelry store, like her mother, that way she could make a lot of money and wear all the gold jewelry she wanted to. I wrote that I wanted to be an archeologist. Just like Indiana Jones. It wasn't the thrill of finding ancient Biblical artifacts that enticed me. It was the sense of adventure.

When it comes to jobs, I'm not attracted to the amount of money it offers (although it does help!). I'm more interested in the work and whether or not I'll enjoy doing it on a day to day basis. Because if I don't enjoy what I'm doing, then it'll show in my work and then obviously, nobody's happy.

But I guess this is all part of living in your twenties; taking on meaningless, mediocre jobs just to get by and help you survive until you get to your thirties. At least, that's what it seems so far. I don't want to be in my thirties and find myself in this same stressful situation. It's not fun.

A week before I was born, my mother and father went to an old fashioned fire and brimstone revival. You know, one of those repent your sins or burn in a lake of fire type things. And during the pastor's sermon, he stopped mid-verse and made his way down to where my parents sat. He told them, God compelled his spirit to let them know that the baby inside my mom would do great and wonderful things and that the baby would be a boy and that his name would be David. This shocked my mom and dad, who hadn't the slightest idea what the sex of their unborn baby was.

They had already decided to name me Michael if I was a boy or Diamond if I was a girl (According to my mom, Diamond is listed in the Bible as the daughter of some big legacy family. And though that may be true, let's face it...it would have left my future career possibilites limited, if you know what I mean), but listened to the young pastor and, well, that's how I got my name.

Now if I can only figure out what great and wonderful thing I'm supposed to be doing. That's what's been heavy on my mind for the past week. That and wondering whether or not my current unemployment fits into that plan. I still haven't told my family that I got fired, only because, I still don't know what to say. Right before I got that un-fateful phone call, I was just telling my family over Google Video Chat, that I was excited about the opening of the store and finally working again. Guess I spoke too soon.

And it's humiliating having to admit defeat, yet again, because it does make me wonder, what exactly am I doing wrong, that people just don't want me working for them? If I could pinpoint the problem and learn from it, I could move on and get onto my great and wonderful future, instead of being stuck in despair and hopelessness.