Friday night. Time to hit the books.
Oct. 29th, 2004 05:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fredericksDay two of being by my aunt's house. I'm still not used to the quiet. Or the lack of televisions. Or the scarcity of prepared foods. At this point I'm too pooped to care.
Today was Orgo Lab and Italian. Orgo is always such a pain in the ass. Our TA barely has a grasp on the English language, and while I usually can give people in his shoes the benefit of the doubt, he's also a horrendous instructor. Week after week no one in class knows what precisely we're doing in the laboratory, and the TA can never explain it. It's simple, really: before the kids get down and dirty with their chemicals, make your own set-up in front of then and walk them through what to do. It'll save everyone time. But he's so poorly organized that he doesn't think of that. This week he did chromatography for us, but he didn't even know what chemicals he'd put on the plate to separate. He ended up telling us we wouldn't have to do that section. I just...grrrrrr! I'm so peeved right now I can't get the words out.
After lab (which I finished within a record hour and a half, thanks to Nick fucking up what he was supposed to do for us) I headed over to the EB on 71st. My brother'd told me about it a couple of days ago, and I was hoping the results of me applying there would be different from the no-callback I got from Gamestop (and I will never be shopping at the one again...goddamn that punk-ass kid manager). The EB is more off the beaten trail than the Gamestop, so that had me a little concerned (I'm thinking commission-wise, here). I walk in and ask one of the two guys at the counter if they're hiring and then if they have any applications. One of them tells me no, and then the girl I'd noticed they were chatting with pointed to the app she had (and is apparently filling out in front of these guys) and told me she got it at Queens Center Mall (like, four stops back towards Manhattan). I'll all, well, okay, will you take my resume instead? I really didn't want to have to trek back towards QC. One of the guys (most likely the manager) said sure, but they'd prefer if I had the app too. I shrugged and bent down to pull one of my resumes out of my bookbag while the guys, quickly forgetting about me, turned back towards the other girl. It seemed as thought the manager was giving her an on-the-spot interview, even though she hadn't even finished filling out the app. I sighed silently, handed over my nice resume on the crisp Staples paper (printed fresh on Tuesday) and left, secure in the knowledge that the bubbly but ditzy girl with the long hair would most likely be employed there within the course of the next two weeks, while I'd still be assed out.
I got to thinking on my way to QC (because, even though I know I'm not going to be called back, I decided to get the application and try my luck in the mall store) about ...cars. How I can compare myself to a Kia. As females go, I'm a Kia. I'm not pretty, and most people, when asked what model of car they really want, would never mention a Kia. Most sane people, anyway. I might be practical, but I'm not bragged about. I'm the sort of car you get when you can't get any of the spiffier models. You don't have to defend yourself for buying, lets say, a Porsche or one of them there fancy cars. But you do when you step out with a Kia. So, yeah. Guys want good looking girls in their stores. They don't have to sell (as I came to find out when I knew a hiring RS manager a while back...I sold, the girl he brought in solely because he thought she was hot didn't; who got more perks? you figure it out). The quick look and the paper thrust into my face at the EB in the mall sort of solidified that for me. I don't ever really forget my position on the totem pole, but sometimes I sort of keep it on the backburner. But, eh ::shrug::.
After the EB run-around I came on back to my aunt's house. I'm fuckin' tired as a muth. Feet are killing me. I have a crapload of Bio studying to do. Lovely. Happy blinkin' Halloween.
Today was Orgo Lab and Italian. Orgo is always such a pain in the ass. Our TA barely has a grasp on the English language, and while I usually can give people in his shoes the benefit of the doubt, he's also a horrendous instructor. Week after week no one in class knows what precisely we're doing in the laboratory, and the TA can never explain it. It's simple, really: before the kids get down and dirty with their chemicals, make your own set-up in front of then and walk them through what to do. It'll save everyone time. But he's so poorly organized that he doesn't think of that. This week he did chromatography for us, but he didn't even know what chemicals he'd put on the plate to separate. He ended up telling us we wouldn't have to do that section. I just...grrrrrr! I'm so peeved right now I can't get the words out.
After lab (which I finished within a record hour and a half, thanks to Nick fucking up what he was supposed to do for us) I headed over to the EB on 71st. My brother'd told me about it a couple of days ago, and I was hoping the results of me applying there would be different from the no-callback I got from Gamestop (and I will never be shopping at the one again...goddamn that punk-ass kid manager). The EB is more off the beaten trail than the Gamestop, so that had me a little concerned (I'm thinking commission-wise, here). I walk in and ask one of the two guys at the counter if they're hiring and then if they have any applications. One of them tells me no, and then the girl I'd noticed they were chatting with pointed to the app she had (and is apparently filling out in front of these guys) and told me she got it at Queens Center Mall (like, four stops back towards Manhattan). I'll all, well, okay, will you take my resume instead? I really didn't want to have to trek back towards QC. One of the guys (most likely the manager) said sure, but they'd prefer if I had the app too. I shrugged and bent down to pull one of my resumes out of my bookbag while the guys, quickly forgetting about me, turned back towards the other girl. It seemed as thought the manager was giving her an on-the-spot interview, even though she hadn't even finished filling out the app. I sighed silently, handed over my nice resume on the crisp Staples paper (printed fresh on Tuesday) and left, secure in the knowledge that the bubbly but ditzy girl with the long hair would most likely be employed there within the course of the next two weeks, while I'd still be assed out.
I got to thinking on my way to QC (because, even though I know I'm not going to be called back, I decided to get the application and try my luck in the mall store) about ...cars. How I can compare myself to a Kia. As females go, I'm a Kia. I'm not pretty, and most people, when asked what model of car they really want, would never mention a Kia. Most sane people, anyway. I might be practical, but I'm not bragged about. I'm the sort of car you get when you can't get any of the spiffier models. You don't have to defend yourself for buying, lets say, a Porsche or one of them there fancy cars. But you do when you step out with a Kia. So, yeah. Guys want good looking girls in their stores. They don't have to sell (as I came to find out when I knew a hiring RS manager a while back...I sold, the girl he brought in solely because he thought she was hot didn't; who got more perks? you figure it out). The quick look and the paper thrust into my face at the EB in the mall sort of solidified that for me. I don't ever really forget my position on the totem pole, but sometimes I sort of keep it on the backburner. But, eh ::shrug::.
After the EB run-around I came on back to my aunt's house. I'm fuckin' tired as a muth. Feet are killing me. I have a crapload of Bio studying to do. Lovely. Happy blinkin' Halloween.
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no subject
Date: 2004-10-29 06:26 pm (UTC)By that logic, I am a beat up old rusted-out Chevy that somehow just keeps running.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-29 08:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-30 09:43 pm (UTC)I'm feeling compelled to switch to another lab section. The guy is just hopeless. I'd like to think you'd be a tad bit better, at least. *grin*