Jobless: Day Two

Day Two of Self-Imposed Unemployment. A mental health vacation.

I’ve managed to parse today out in pretty good fashion, not moving too quickly on any one household task so that by the end of the day it will feel like I put in a day’s work. Yesterday, my first official day of unemployment, I was still fighting off a sinus headache so I was also able to force those assigned tasks into today. I’ve started the laundry and done my job search so now I must go through the boxes of shit from my office and throw out old notebooks. There’s a lot of household purging on my list of to do’s. 

So I quit my job. I’ve stupidly put all my eggs in one job search basket and am still waiting to hear back from a second interview. But I’m growing less hopeful about it…I’m pretty sure they hired someone without a uterus. I would have been replacing someone who got pregnant and then split. I actually contemplated telling them that I’m way too poor to do that, but I didn’t want to sound quite so desperate. 

This is the first time since I was 15 that I haven’t had a job. In anticipation of being terrified of what I’ve done - quitting a perfectly fine but soul-crushing job without having another one already lined up - I made myself a nice little laundry list of things I can accomplish on my time at home. There are a lot of dog walks on the list. But also things that I need to do, like cleaning out the closets and taking guitar lessons. (Thought process on that one: learn to play guitar, busker outside the subway = brilliant!)

I am also brushing up on my French and going to the dentist. Little things each day, only moving the bar so far and keeping a list of daily to do’s. As the saying goes: this shit is chess, not checkers. And maybe I’ll learn something from this experience. Like how to play chess!

vintageanchor:

“Among those whom I like or admire, I can find no common denominator, but among those whom I love, I can; all of them make me laugh.”
― W.H. Auden

(Source: vintageanchorbooks)

aliasspace:

topherlooks:

Dowling Duncan and redesigning the American Dollar:

Why the size?
We have kept the width the same as the existing dollars. However we have changed the size of the note so that the one dollar is shorter and the 100 dollar is the longest. When stacked on top of each other it is easy to see how much money you have. It also makes it easier for the visually impaired to distinguish between notes.

Why a vertical format?
When we researched how notes are used we realized people tend to handle and deal with money vertically rather than horizontally. You tend to hold a wallet or purse vertically when searching for notes. The majority of people hand over notes vertically when making purchases. All machines accept notes vertically. Therefore a vertical note makes more sense.

Why different colors?
It’s one of the strongest ways graphically to distinguish one note from another.

Why these designs?
We wanted a concept behind the imagery so that the image directly relates to the value of each note. We also wanted the notes to be educational, not only for those living in America but visitors as well. Each note uses a black and white image depicting a particular aspect of American history and culture. They are then overprinted with informational graphics or a pattern relating to that particular image.

$1 – The first African American president
$5 – The five biggest native American tribes
$10 – The bill of rights, the first 10 amendments to the US Constitution
$20 – 20th Century America
$50 – The 50 States of America
$100 – The first 100 days of President Franklin Roosevelt. During this time he led the congress to pass more important legislations than most presidents pass in their entire term. This helped fight the economic crises at the time of the great depression. Ever since, every new president has been judged on how well they have done during the first 100 days of their term.

Love these.

(Source: brightlybrightly, via wilwheaton)

To All the Bars I’ve Loved Before…

Today’s “DC’s Douchiest Bars” listicle rustled some nostalgia in me, taking me back to the days when I first lived in DC and when I slowly discovered that this was my home. I’ve never had a single job in this city that didn’t have some sort of unofficial bar associated with it. It’s a needed comfort, to have a place where you can go bitch about work, meet people, sing karaoke if you’re so inclined. So here’s my personal little listicle of bars where I’ve spent too much time drinking too much beer. And other things. All but one is still around, and the one that’s gone…well, it’s now on the list as the Number 20 Douchiest Bar.

• Mr. Eagan’s, now Bar Citron If you were ever a full time employee of Olsson’s Book & Records, chances are you got drunk with Mr. Eagan at least one time during your tenure. Because of its location around the corner from the Olsson’s Dupont Circle location, Eagan’s was the defacto Olsson’s bar. Every Olsson’s had its constituencies and Dupont was the cool kid store. It’s where all the “fun” grown ups worked, like my pal Muriel Brown was the music manager - a chick who knew/knows everything there is to know about jazz and go-go music. Every night there would be at least one other employee there, hunched over in a booth, smoking a cig while simultaneously polishing off a Bud Light and elbow deep in a Don DeLillo novel. Mr. Eagan and his wife were always at the foot of the bar, ready for conversation and a pint. God bless ‘em, they sold the place and moved to Rehoboth to retire in 1999. Mr. Eagan passed away in 2009. A lot of fond memories from that place for me, and according to the Google, I’m not alone. 
• The Townhouse Tavern Just by virtue of having spent a lot of time there, I have to include it. I used to meet up with other Olsson’s people there as well to shoot pool or have a game of darts. It’s the only bar where I’ve, uh, been party to illicite substances and once a boyfriend told me my ass was fat while we were there, so, yeah.
• The Tune Inn This old stalwart has proven that almost nothing can kill it. Like a vampire! You can’t even kill this place with fire. And oh sure, they can paint over the graffiti in the bathrooms, but it just comes back. Like a vampire! Still, you have to love or at least respect a place that treats you so bad every time you go through the door. I’ve tried for ten years to break up with the Tune and so far, we just keep winding up together. Just not nearly as often anymore, and that is a good thing. True story, my husband and I (and several friends) adopted an affectation of one of our bartender friends from yore who loved to say “OH YEAH!” in a very certain way. When I catch one of us doing it, it always makes me laugh.
• The Post Pub Much like the Tune Inn, this old warhorse just keeps going. It’s dirty and still smokey, a good 6 years since the smoking ban and if those walls could talk, holy shit the things they could say. That old bar has seen its namesake through good times and bad and it’s still a place to overhear a good yarn from a group of reporters now and then. I have worked in its proximity for almost 12 years now, with the exception of two horrid years spent working in the Commonwealth, so it’s still one of my go-to places to meet up with people if I’m not on H Street. The food ain’t bad and no one gives you a stink eye for a glass or pitcher of beer at lunch on a weekday. And man, it’s a great place for a scotch on the way home sometimes.

Internet-Fueled Dinner Parties

A dinner party last night turned into a cabal of blog post discussions. Zombie stories are the new cocaine! Conversations included (sources varied): Student seduces teacher on a bet, wins - State lawmaker angry, paper-punchy - and of course, the variety of zombie stories going around. 

vintageanchor:

If you’re ever in San Francisco, take the Dashiell Hammett/Sam Spade/Maltese Falcon walking tour… Highlights include a marker in the alley where Brigid shot Miles.

(Source: vintageanchorbooks)

bookriot:

Hemingway’s brand of stoicism deals with traditional, sometimes even reactionary, symbols of maleness. Bells, balls, and bulls. Papa H. projects toughness by amplifying those symbols, by elevating them to almost mystical status. Again, not that Hemingway wasn’t tough, but why let his particular brand of toughness drown out the more interesting, and sometimes more complex, forms that are out there?

Five Women Writers Tougher Than Hemingway

vintageanchor:

“There’s no money in poetry, but there’s no poetry in money, either.”
― Robert Graves

British poet and novelist Robert Graves, and author of I, Claudius and Claudius the God, was born today in 1895 (he died in 1985).

(Source: vintageanchorbooks)