there will be nothing good left of you

I never heard back from CAS despite the promise of a phone call two full weeks ago. Unfortunately, I know exactly why they never called with a job offer, and all I have to say about that at this point is "Thank you, Brazilian math prof from my alma mater."

Each one of my job applications has dead ended, and I'm more unhappy in this new city than I could have possibly anticipated.

Things can only get better from here, I guess.

it amazes me when I think of exactly how it came to be

The story of how The Captain and I met is a complex one that boggles my mind, even now. Our story begins nearly 12 years before we met, but for simplicity's sake, I'll start five years ago, in 2002.

I was still in high school at the time, and working at a summer camp that I'd gone to as a child. The first day I was there, I met Gecko. She and I met at a program several years prior, and had gotten off to a rough start. She thought I was a whiny little brat, and I'd thought she was an arrogant princess. Anyway, fast forward to my first summer working at camp. Gecko was one of the first people I saw after getting there and unpacking. I recognized her from several years ago, and latched onto her, following her around like a lost puppy.

Over the course of the summer, Gecko told me about the university she was attending. From listening to her talk about the school, I decided it was worth further investigation. I was beginning my senior year of high school and had no idea what I wanted to do with my life after June 13th the following year.

After doing some cursory researching and determining that her school would be cheaper for me to attend than a local one, despite being in another state. I found a few programs that interested me, and applied for Early Decision. When I got my acceptance letter, I knew my college search was over. Because I had applied for Early Decision, I was obligated to attend this university. My parents weren't thrilled with my choice since it was so far away and I wasn't allowed to have a car for the first two years. My father helped me move into my dorm and said that I'd have to find my own way home if I wanted to visit.

Skipping the remainder of my freshman year of college, the following summer found me back at camp. This time, I met another girl who would have significant influence over my life. She and I were so similar in so many ways that we were almost magnetically drawn to one another. This summer was not a good one, for either of us. We didn't quite fit in with the rest of the staff, and often spent our "free time" alone together, or just plain alone. That summer had more lasting effects on my life than just the friendship she and I had formed. That was also the summer I was hospitalized with burns and permanent nerve damage in my hand, leaving two of my fingers entirely useless, and having very limited function in the other two.

I didn't expect to see her again after that summer, because neither of us were planning to go back to camp the following year. We'd both had enough. At some indeterminate point in the future, however, she moved to the same state where I was attending school.

Spring of my final full year of college found me teaching a chemistry lab. Due to the fact that I was still an undergraduate, the department had to get creative with where my funding came from. It took them until finals week to finally get it straightened out, and I got my compensation for teaching the course as a lump sum rather than twice monthly checks.

The day I was issued my paycheck was the same day as a concert in the next town that I'd been looking forward to for months. Unfortunately, the tickets had been sold out for weeks. During one of my hours-long conversations with Renee, I found out that the same lineup would be playing in her town a week later, and that there were still tickets available. The day of my last exam that semester, I packed up my car, moving everything by myself for the first time. The car was so stuffed that I could only see out a basketball sized portion of my rear windshield, and the back windows were entirely blocked.

I drove straight through to her town, and after collapsing on her couch for a few hours, we got ready to go to the concert. The concert was violent, with me literally being picked up off my feet and thrown into the mosh pit. I had a hand print with four distinct fingers bruised into my bicep for a week. Basically, it was the best concert I'd ever been to.

A few days later, a bunch of us were hanging out in Renee's apartment when The Captain walked in the door. I was immediately drawn to him. While it wasn't love at first sight, it was most certainly an intense attraction. He'd dropped by to pick up the boxers he'd bought on a shopping trip with Renee, and had accidentally left behind. He ended up staying all day, helping me cook a traditional meal from scratch, and ultimately, spent the night.

We talked for hours, and found that we had more in common than we would have ever guessed. He and I were both traveling to my home state the next day, and decided to make part of the trip together. The next day (the day we were supposed to leave) had us so thoroughly engrossed in each other, that we realized we'd never make it to our destinations at a reasonable hour. We decided it would be safer to spend one more night in his hometown before leaving the following morning.

Once again, I expected that our paths would diverge and we'd never see each other again. I hoped vehemently that it wasn't true, but it looked unavoidable.

happy birthday, k

***Reposted from one year ago***

It's amazing how quickly people forget. How quickly people move on, and expect everyone else to do the same. That people don't understand how I can miss someone I never got to know.

K is my big sister. Today is not only her 30th birthday, but also the anniversary of her death. Even though I never met her, she's still very much a part of my life. I will always wonder how my life would have been different had she survived.

When I was in high school, I wrote a short story about my interpretation of what happened that day. It was my way of dealing with the emotional overload that only a teenager can know (or so it seems at the time). I submitted that story to a writing contest, not expecting anything to come of it. Imagine my suprise when I got notification that I had won. K's story was then published in a nationally released anthology that sold nearly a million copies.

Don't ask me for the name of the book. I don't know what it is. I've never seen it, or if I have, it was in passing on a bookstore shelf where I didn't recognize it (since I don't know the title of the book). Looking back on it, I should have ordered a copy.

Even if I never find a copy of the anthology, K's story will always be a part of it. Someone will read it and hopefully tuck the story away in their head. Maybe that person will think of her the next time they see the tombstone of a child.


You're not alone,
No matter what they told you, you're not alone.
I'll be right beside you forevermore.

And as we lay in silent bliss,
I know you remember me.

"Like You" by Amy Lee

It feels like going back in time

As I mentioned here, yesterday was my interview with CAS. Because the company is more than a three hour drive from where I'm currently living, I made the trip out last Friday and I've been staying with Captain Emo Ranger's parents (more about them later, probably as a post of their own). Since the street address of the company would put me in a less-than-savory part of town, The Captain and I decided to try finding it last night so that when I had to do it by myself, I'd have at least seen the building before, and would have some idea as to what the neighborhood would look like, where the parking lot was, etc.

Despite all this planning ahead, we couldn't find the street address. The building that looked like it should have corresponded to the street number had a sign on the door with a different company's name. Being that it was late at night (after we'd extinguished our candle) we knew that in this neighborhood, stopping to gawk or ask directions wasn't necessarily smart.

I at least knew how to get to the street the business was supposed to be on, so I left nearly an hour before my interview was scheduled to start, despite the drive being less than 10 minutes from The Captain's parents' house. I figured worst case scenario would have me in the wrong office building asking for directions to CAS.

When I got to the office building we'd seen the night before, I noticed a smaller sign hanging on a side entrance with the CAS logo and a note that the main entrance was on another floor. Not knowing how to get to the main entrance, I simply took the back door which lead me up multiple flights of what looked like fire-escape stairs that were not very easy to navigate in my less-than-modest heels, while lugging everything of value that had been in my car and was now stashed in my bag. In hindsight, I probably should have left those things at the house.

By this time, I was still at least 40 minutes early for my appointment, but I decided to go in anyway, and wait in the lobby until the supervisors were ready to see me. The first thing I noticed when I got inside the building was that there was no lobby or any sort of waiting area. There was a receptionist just inside the door, who was happy to call Crystal* the woman I was to meet, to see if she was available to start my interview early.

My second observation was that yesterday must have been Casual Monday. The receptionist (and everyone else I saw) was wearing jeans. A few very awkward minutes of standing in the middle of the floor looking very much out of place in my suit, a woman in a turtle neck and jeans came out of one of the rear offices and introduced herself as Crystal. The first thing she did was take me on a tour of the facilities, which consisted of walking through each hallway, and pointing out where each door lead. The only lab I saw the inside of was the one that was attached to Crystal's office.

My third observation was that the building's storage system must have reached its capacity some time around 5 years ago. The hallways, desks, chairs, and floors were putting in a valiant effort to store boxes, coolers packed with samples, books, files, and carts. Unfortunately, using these surfaces for storage did not leave much room for navigating the various departments.

In Crystal's office was the first part of the interview where she identified herself as being the direct supervisor for the position I had applied for. We discussed my qualifications, my work history, and what I considered to be my strengths and weaknesses before she explained what it was that the job would entail, the benefits, the hours, etc. When she mentioned the salary range, I balked.

The wage she quoted me was half of what had been posted on the listing I'd responded to. Of course, I brought this to her attention and was told it "must have been a typo. There's no way we would pay that." Doing some quick mental math, I figured out that I could squeak by on the smaller salary. Barely. I'm moving in a week, and have no appreciable income until I start a new job, whenever that might be. Student loan repayments start in less than a month, and with my other bills as they stand, I have enough money in my checking account to survive for one month.

My duties for the job would include 2.5 days a week of doing one specific analysis, which she kept referring to as an acronym I wasn't familiar with. The other 2.5 days a week, I would be working in other departments. Basically, this would mean that I would be employed part time by multiple departments and while I would be spending 40+ hours a week in the office, I wouldn't technically be a full-time employee.

After she finished explaining this, I asked her what the acronym she kept using meant, as I'd never heard it before. Being that this is an analysis that is being run 3 times a week under her direct supervision, I assumed this was a valid question. The answer, however, was not so simple. In fact, she had to consult Professor Google to know for sure what the proper name of the technique was, let alone its purpose.

At this point, the first portion of my interview was finished. The next part involved trying to find the other supervisors who also wanted to interview me. I'm running out of steam, here, so I'm going to skip the rant about the supervisors not being where they should be when they know they have a meeting.

The second interview was very concise. Jamie* wasn't hiring in her department, but it's standard practice to interview anyone who may be crosstrained later. We mutually decided that her department wasn't the right place for me, in that it wouldn't utilize my experience or education. The entry level position I'd potentially be crosstrained for would involve working a later shift that is less flexible for things like dentist or eye appointments than the first position would be. This job would also involve spending half my work day in the car, driving around the city picking up and dropping off samples with the clients.

The third interview showed the most promise. Mortimer* was the overall supervisor of this branch of the company. He assured me that my goals and ambitions matched virtually perfectly with what he was looking for in a new employee. His only concern was he didn't know yet which department I would be best suited to. After giving me his business card and telling me to send any future questions or concerns with him rather than Crystal (who had been the one to lose my resume previously), he said the next step was to begin my background check.

Overall, I have mixed feelings about how the interviews went, and I don't know at this point whether I'll accept an offer coming from their company. I won't hear back from them until later this week, which doesn't make things any easier with the housing situation. The Captain was going to move on Saturday into our new place, but if I have no appreciable income until my diploma is issued and the background check is cleared, I can't afford rent. It just won't happen. It might take six more weeks for my diploma to be issued. That's two months of rent payment, which I just plain can't afford without a job.

I'd had such high hopes for this company, and after the interviews, that was gone. Not just dampened, but gone completely.

*All names are changed unless otherwise specified*

no matter what they told you, you're not alone

The Worldwide Candle Lighting is one day out of the year when you can remember a child who has died and know that the world remembers with you. It is a day when you can light a remembrance candle and know that yours is joining with hundreds of thousands around the world.

This Sunday, December 9, bereaved parents, siblings, grandparents, relatives, and friends from across the globe will join together for the Eleventh Annual Worldwide Candle Lighting sponsored by The Compassionate Friends, and you are invited to participate, whether at a formal service, at home with family and friends, or wherever you may be. While the event is officially observed for one hour at 7 p.m. local time around the world, services, both formal and informal, will be held throughout the day.

I will light my candle tomorrow for Jillian, a little girl from my hometown who died at the age of 13 from an inoperable brain tumor, and for my big sister K, and for the babies of a girl I went to high school with, who were born too early and didn't survive, as well as countless others who I didn't personally know. Please, don't let their light be extinguished. Take this one hour to remember the kids who died too young.