so...

I know that I said I was closing this blog, but I couldn't resist and reopened a new one here. It's a different blog, but there's still a connection--ME. It's just me at a different phase in life. :)

End of a Chapter

This blog has suited me just fine over the last couple of years, but as I have a VERY tiny circle of readers, I have decided to stop posting at this location. Thank you for faithfully reading and never posting comments. ;) If you are absolutely DESPARATE to keep up with the personal details of my life, my revelations, and my self-deprecating sense of humor, leave a comment, and I may end up re-directing you.

Peace out, homeslices!

~Quesse Lome

open letters (with optional ninja skillz attached)

Dear Supermodels the world over,

I no longer envy you. In fact, I would never want to be one of you except for the super exotic locations you are able to travel to and the super amazing wacky creations you get to wear, all while looking super cool. (In a supermodel's world, everything is super, right?) The only thing I ended up with from a recent photoshoot was a pounding migraine. Ok, and there was Daniel's Broiler for dinner and the opportunity to be catcalled by passing acquaintances... Still, I leave the modeling up to you. After all, you're super qualified.

Sincerely,
NU's newest poster gal


Dear Potential Employers,

Please give me an answer. I want to put myself to use in YOUR workplace. Will you give me a chance?

Thanks,
Potential Employee


Dear Half-Filled Jar of Peanut Butter,

Whatever possessed you to fly across the kitchen and hit me in the head? Why did you think that I would catch you? I was concentrating on my ninja skills with a pot lid and a dishtowel, and you completely threw off my groove. Although I appreciate your attempt at helping me train, please reconsider your plan of action the next time you decide to launch yourself at me.

Painfully,
the Wincing Ninja


Dear Bag of Frozen Peas and Carrots,

Thank you for helping me out after the PB attacked. If it wasn't for your frozen goodness, the swelling would not have gone down as readily.

Gratefully,
the Relieved Ninja


Dear Person Who Shall Not be Named,

Although I do not quite equate you to Lord Voldemort, I still feel like Harry whenever you might be around. I keenly sense your presence, and you freak me out. One day, we shall meet and one of us shall destroy the other. Or maybe I just have an overactive imagination...

Sincerely,
"Harriet Potter"


Dear Former Bosses of my Sister and Brother-in-Law,

I have held off on addressing you for long enough. I believe my indignation and fury has cooled a bit over the past few weeks, but the facts still remain: you should be ashamed of yourselves.

Although you're both of Canadian descent, I don't think that gives you the excuse of being ignorant of how the free world works. Treating my siblings like Guatemalan refugees in order to have a nanny for your son is not how things work here. Maybe in Canada indentured servanthood still exists, but not here.

Furthermore, I think you may all have been able to patch things up had you not suggested to my sister that she divorce her husband in order to remain as your live-in nanny. Excuse me, but I think marriage is more important to my sister than her job.

Disgruntled,
the Sibling

successful

The thing about success is that it is in the eye of the beholder. A small business owner in Lebanon, South Dakota, feels successful when her hometown baker manages to stay afloat. Donald Trump feels successful when he manages to secure a good 25% of the US in new real estate purchases. A local high schooler feels successful when he nails his audition and winds up on the community theatre stage. Meg Ryan feels successful when she puts out a film that does not stem from the romantic comedy genre all while claiming her much deserved, long awaited Oscar.

Some people want wealth and worldly success, but I'm not one of them. I want to make enough money to get by comfortably, to pay off my school debt, to have free time to recharge with friends, and to enjoy this next stage in life. Then, when this phase ends, I'll be ready to move overseas, to give up American materialism, and do something truly meaningful in my life. A full-time career that takes me to the top? No thanks! The only full-time career I'm interested in is living my life for God and for others. The only "to the top" experience I want is to get to heaven when I die and to hear my Father say, "Well done."

phew

I, Quesse Lome, missionary kid extraordinaire, global travel expert with a forte in cross-cultural communications, interviewed at Microsoft today. Yes, yes, I did. What's more is that I think they liked me. (Apparently, my background in residence assistance helped out!) The only problem is that the position doesn't start until August 5... :-S

So, at the end of the interviews (there were two, back to back), I was asked [PASSIVE VOICE] if there would be a problem with that start date. I admitted that, yes, I would prefer to start work sooner than a month in the future, and that it was disappointing that they didn't start sooner. Honestly, I think I would love working there. The position sounds great--a lot like stuff that I did in the bookstore at my university--and I really enjoyed the atmosphere at Microsoft.

However, once I mentioned that to the second interviewer, she said (roughly), "Person to person, if it's unrealistic for you to wait for this position and something else comes up that works for you better, we won't have any hard feelings if you can't follow through with us. No burned bridges here. If, in the future, you'd like to reapply with us, that would be fine too."

SO...I feel like I can accurately deduce that they liked me. I certainly didn't get any "WE HATE YOU" vibes from anyone there, although I wasn't all that impressed with the two young receptionists. (They seemed a BIT unprofessional.) Even so, I'm glad that those interviews are over, especially since I woke up this morning with a pretty intense headache that only got worse and made me suppress waves of nausea during the second interview. THAT would have gone over well... "Yeah, remember that girl that puked during her interview? ...Don't hire her..."

Anyway, I'm now more than halfway through my interviews this week, and they've all gone well so far. I feel like US Bank wants to hire me, but there's still a few days before I know for sure. The interview went well yesterday, and I really like the guys who would be my managers at the bank. Very nice guys. I already know Ryan, and I like the idea of being a bank teller. I think it's the kind of work that would mesh very well with me. We'll see on that front...

I also had an interview at the NU library yesterday, and I think it went ok. It's a little harder to tell when you know the people already! I don't think I'm quite as prepared for that position as I originally thought I was, and they won't be able to give me a firm answer for a couple of weeks more, so I'm leaning away from the library at this point, although they give better pay than the bank. Hmmm...

On another note, I ran into the school photographer yesterday at NU, and he wants to do a photoshoot of me and Khan for some of the different publications. So tomorrow, we're heading off to Pike Place Market and then the ferry and then wherever else we might need to go. Merlin's buying food and stuff tomorrow. (Sweet!) Also, he's willing to buy me other clothes for the photoshoot, but that all depends on scheduling at this point. (I wonder if I get to keep the clothes...?)

I really didn't think this week was going to be as enjoyable as it's been so far, but God is proving me wrong. Also, Maggie blessed me with a smoothie from work this afternoon on my way back from Microsoft. I tell ya what, immunity nectar must be a powerful healing elixir because I started feeling better on the drive back to the house!

all patriotic and stuff

I've never been super patriotic about being American--let's face it, I grew up elsewhere--but there's something kind of wholesome about a day on which we celebrate our independence and freedom. Granted, I have no idea what it was actually like to be one of those early American colonists, but I can understand desiring freedom. After all, if we did not live in a free-ish country, I would feel, well, like this:



So freedom is one of those qualities that I greatly appreciate in America, particularly, freedom of expression. (see Fig. 1)



Fig. 1

Freedom is one of those underrated qualities that America still possesses. (Yes, yes, I know our freedoms are being gradually taken from us by the bastard politicians. So sue them litigiously.) Still, the fact that I can write that and not fear imprisonment is pretty cool. Let's face it, there are still places *coughCHADcough* where basic newspapers are banned. Doesn't matter if they're reporting the truth or vindictive lies, they won't get printed without governmental retribution.



Now, I'm not saying that America is perfect, and I'm not saying that I'm one of those crazy patriotic folks who wear American flags emblazoned on oversized tee shirts with red white and blue matching accessories. (see Fig. 2 of indoctrinated children)



Fig. 2

However, I am, even if I'm not "proud" to be an American, at least grateful for this nation. And, I will admit to needling my British and Canadian friends in high school over the holiday. My British roommate Philippa, bless her soul, put up with my bragging one day out of the year to gloat over the dirty Yankee scoundrels (her words, not mine) beating the regimentals. She might have even looked like this:



Only without the goatee...



Well, anyway, today--technically, yesterday--happened to be the 4th of July. I slept in late due to scrapbooking into the wee hours of the morning, but it was an enjoyable day. We headed down to the waterfront to a friend's place where there were tons of people, lots of good potlucked foods like "funeral potatoes"--family joke--and pea salad, and fresh seafood. When I say fresh, I mean taken from their own crab pots. There was also coffee in the boathouse.



Can I just say that I love my family and am so glad that my sister and brother-in-law just moved back from NYC? I mean, come on, who can hate people like this:



Besides, we do fabulous duck faces and impersonations...



Sad duck



Angry duck



Angelina duck



This is not a duck...



Wide-eyed innocent country duck



Magnum and Blue Steel ducks



And scared ducks.

Yeah, my family is nuts...I love them. :) Just be glad we never ended up taking our "lotus with ten petals" picture like we were thinking about doing after leaving the bbq. (Hint: it involves a reverse picture from the one of us all looking down at the camera.)

And speaking of the lotus with ten petals...so my sister had to fart at the bbq today--don't worry, I got her permission before I blogged the story--and in order to mask the sound, she sat down on a chair with a cushion. Again, don't judge; everyone farts. Even the stodgiest dowager farts--she'll just never own up to it.

So right as she's "breaking wind," someone sets off a bottle rocket in the next yard, and at first, she was all, "Good grief! Is that me?!" Later, when she recounted the story back at the house, I couldn't stop laughing. Maybe you had to be there...



Gratuitious picture of my crazy dad and me!



I think Kenn was anticipating a fire from all the rockets a little early in the evening...

Happy 4th! :)

oh so totally screwed

I checked--again--the requirements for ministerial credentials through a certain denomination. I don't meet them...at all. Ok, so the basics I do meet--born again, part of a church, etc.--but I fail at the technicalities. Pretty much...I doubt that I'll ever be a licensed minister with denomination x.

Really, this probably shouldn't bother me so much, except this is the denomination my parents are fully committed to me being a part of. I tell them I'm called to missions; they tell me I should go with this mission board. I look into the "prerequisites" and find that I'm lacking; they say they'll pray harder.

Um...I don't think that's going to do all that much...

Anyway. This just underlines my theories that I won't be going out as a traditional missionary. That's ok. It's different, and I'll probably have to deal with their disappointment--well, my dad's disappointment anyway...oh heck, probably my mom's too. Yep, pretty sure I'm now a new failure to both of my parents. Oh joy.

"I wear the pants in the relationship so that he can't get into them..."

[By the way, the subject line was the all-time best line I have ever heard one of my girlfriends say.]

Tonight for Shosh's birthday, a bunch of us went to Moroccan food in Seattle. In case you're ever interested in AMAZING North African food, I would recommend Marrakesh on 2nd Avenue. So tasty. :)

Afterwards, I spent quite awhile talking with Maggie and Inga and then just Inga on the way back to my place on the Peninsula. I kept thinking about everything on my own for the last thirty minutes of my drive. My conclusion from the evening of girl talk: I want to stop being used emotionally.

The other day, a friend of mine jokingly said that *shock!* I did have a heart, but that it was buried in the back yard under land mines and trip wire. I laughed, and I would agree that it appears that my heart is well-guarded from any possible interlopers, charlatans, and marauders. Fact is, I'm not very good at protecting my heart from myself.

I'm very adept at sabotaging my own emotions and willingly letting others manipulate my feelings. They might not even be trying, but somehow I end up feeling used in the end. I don't think this is very healthy behavior on my part, and I want it to stop, but when I try to think of the steps to take towards that end, my head just reels off into nothing.

So I keep building fortresses and then letting the enemy into the keep via the back door. Perhaps I should study castlemaking further.



PS. Apparently, the interview at US Bank this afternoon went well, and I will be scheduled for a second appointment later this week. Also, looks like the library will be calling me on the morrow to arrange a potential interview time as well. Furthermore, I have an interview with Microsoft for next Tuesday.

Ack!

I woke up this morning with a bad case of nerves. About seven hours from now, I have an interview at US Bank in downtown Kirkland. Of all the job hunting I did yesterday, this was my most solid lead. I also, technically, have an informational session that I should attend in downtown Seattle for an NPO that pays $20/hr for an entry level position and provides benefits for its full-time employees.

Silly me, I'm actually not going to that to make sure I can make it to the interview in Kirkland on time. The Seattle meeting is at 2pm, the interview in Kirkland, at 4pm. You might be wondering why I'm opting out of the one for the other. I'll tell you: if your mission statement is that you want to eradicate poverty overseas, then why the hell are you offering so much money to your employees?! We certainly don't need $20 an hour to live a decent life--give it to someone who lives on less than $1 a day.

Anyway, my nerves aren't so much because I have an interview today. I'm confident that I can present myself decently and be mostly affable. In fact, I'm really not all that worried about actually being offered the job. What I'm more worried about is being offered the job and then realizing in a few days that I'm not actually supposed to be there.

I know I'm overanalyzing, and overspiritualizing, and over--ing a lot of things, but I get weird about commitments. I'm usually shy of committing to something, but typically, once I've committed, I hate backing out, which is exactly how I would feel if I started a job and then realized shortly thereafter, that this job was not for me. Ick.

So while I was lying in bed this morning, trying to ignore the nerves so I could go back to sleep until my alarm went off, I felt all jumbled up and confused. Then I thought to myself that I wanted a tangible rock to cling to, a friend to hug me tight, to hold my hand and walk me through it, and I realized that I was ignoring my biggest Rock available. Yet my biggest frustration with the Rock of Ages is that although I know He's always with me, I can't exactly wrap my arms around Him and listen to His heartbeat and know that He is physically present with me. I know that He's with me, and He's probably shaking His head at my too little faith, maybe even sad that I don't feel His presence as tangibly as I could.

Enough thoughts for the morning! I need to get stuff accomplished, so peace to one and all, and please pray with me for this interview to go well.

how I felt for a long time