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get ready for major uhl-gool pal-leem
I found a job. I bit my lip hard and called places that I never imagined myself calling, today, and I went in for an interview, and they just called me. After 3 hours. I didn't think that I was going to get it because they were very skeptical to how long I'd stay with them, since I look, and am, young. I insisted that I'd work a long time as long as it's good. Which is true. Not only that, they didn't even ask me if I had any experience. I waited on tables when I was in the ninth grade for a whole year, but only once a week, after school, until 11 p.m. Anyway, I start tomorrow, at 10:30. I have about 20 hours to grow a thick face, thicker than I already have, because it's a place that is in the heart of Flushing, walking distance from my apt (10 minutes-walk), and a lot of my friends, or people-i-know, go there. It's a place where I used to bring my friends for their bombass dak do ri tang (spicy, chicken soup). 12 hours shift. While I was walking to the place, for the interview, as determined as I was to find a job, I was equally agonized. But that will soon disappear. I gotta do what I gotta do. No one give me shit - because you can't pay my bills.
My mother has the day off today. So I told her where I was going, before I left the house. She went besserk because of two reasons. One, is that she is not in good terms with the owner. Two, her best friend's hair salon is right down the same block. She is fearful of what her friends might think, because her children is supposedly a reflection of her. Well, fuck that. Her best friend doesn't pay my bills...nor does my mother. If I can't stand alone, on my own two feet, that God gave me, then why live? I feel myself becoming bitter by the second. That's right, don't fuck with me.
Fuck. I have to wear a fucking skirt to work everyday. Black skirt, to my knees, with WHITE SOCKS! Ok, I understand the black skirt, but white socks? I want to cry out of disbelief. I sure as hell ain't going to wear 'em to work. I'll bring 'em to work and change. Oh yeah, another problem. I don't have a black motherfucking skirt. I guess I'll just have to buy one right now.
I'll be working 5 days a week, but there are plenty of ads for part-time positions for only Saturday (12 hours). I'll probably respond to one of those, too, and work 6 days. I remember working 6 days a week, 12 hours a day. The word to describe that is, lonely. Not sad, tiring, but lonely. I can't quite say it, in English. In Korean, I'd have to say - ¼·¯¿ö. I love my language because there are so many words that you can say in Korean, that you can't quite say in English. Fuck the English language and its 80 trillion vocabulary words.
I won't be able to see the honey as often. I've been seeing him everyday, for like, the last, two weeks. Or something. Being unemployed, I don't keep track of time; and every day is a Sunday. Anyway, hopefully he understands. If not, that's cool, too. I'm better off alone, anyway. I shouldn't go off on a tangent now.
Hopefully, my mother will understand. Her beef with the owner is her beef. Not mine. Am I being selfish? Apart from this place, and the owner, in general, I am very detached, distant with my mother, as far as how I hold her in regard. She doesn't really have a space in my heart. I love her, and call her mother, only because she gave birth to me. Perhaps I am too young. Maybe that's it. Well, in my defense, all that I will say right now, is that I grew up without a mother...I sure as hell don't need one now. Just because you are my "mother", and God commanded all (me) to honor thy parents, doesn't give you, Mother, the right to walk in and out of my life whenever you please. I know you've made mistakes; and you've had your share of bitter hardships. So that's why I've forgiven you. Am afraid that that is all that I can give right now.
disclaimer: i am not a charity case. this is just to dilute the "pain". so you may congratulate me, now.
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