New Tales from Old Navy

It's been a long time since I've worked a job in retail. The last time was back in 2005. At the time I was working full time in an entry level position in the human services field. This necessitated a part time job with Old Navy to help me put a little extra into my student loans.

I was only there for a few months. For one thing, I received a promotion at the children's home which came with a bump in my salary. For another, that full time gig was an overnight job. That made it very difficult to be a daywalker.

Fast forward seven years. After spending too much time in the world of banking, I've come back to the human services field. But that also means, essentially, that I'm back in an entry level position. This, yet again, necessitates a part time position to help with the monthly budget.

This has brought me right back to Old Navy. I went online, applied and, thankfully, they rehired me. As of now, I'm only considered a seasonal employee. My hope is that my position will become more permanent after the New Year. My need for this extra income won't disappear after Christmas.

Not sure if I've mentioned this, but when I'm not at the school working with the kids, I don't get paid. Election Day? No pay. Thanksgiving break? No pay. Christmas vacation? Two weeks of no pay. And those are just the scheduled days off. I don't want to think about the snow we may or may not get.

While I really don't want a second job, times are tight. I was barely able to get by on what I had this past summer thanks to all that time off school. Hopefully the good people of Old Navy will keep me around to see me through the winter. And next summer. And probably next winter.

Question of the Week: Judging You

What would you do differently if you knew nobody would judge you?

I would drive differently. And I do drive differently when no one else is in the car with me. Real life example: I'm carpooling now. We've recently hired a new counselor at my school. Since we live near each other, it makes sense to ride to work together. The two of us have decided to take my car since it gets the best gas mileage. So now I feel like I should drive a little more slowly on the treacherous road that I usually drive at breakneck speeds. It's a scary road. I don't want to scare her off in the first week.

AFI 47 - A Streetcar Named Desire

A Streetcar Named Desire

1951

Elia Kazan

Netflix sleeve: After losing the family plantation to creditors, aging Southern belle Blanche DuBois (Vivien Leigh) travels to New Orleans seeking solace in her sister, Stella (Kim Hunter). Instead, she goes toe-to-toe with Stella's brute of a husband, Stanley (Marlon Brando). Leigh, Hunter and Karl Malden all took home Oscars for their work in this sizzling adaptation of Tennessee Williams's classic rumination on carnal attraction and faded gentility.

This is one on the list that I'd never seen before. I'm not sure that I've ever had a desire to see it either. I don't know why I've felt that way. This is supposed to be a classic. It's supposed to have Brando and Leigh in two of their most iconic roles. Guess it just didn't do much for me.

The Single Guy and the Bad Trip

There are a number of attractive women at the school in which the Single Guy works. As a rule, he does not think of any of these women as potential dating possibilities. For one thing, only a select few are single. For another, workplace relationships seem extremely complicated at best. Unless you happen to be named Jim and Pam.

This doesn't mean the Single Guy doesn't notice an attractive woman in the workplace when one crosses his path. This is where the Single Guy found himself recently: noticing an attractive coworker which placed him in a precarious and somewhat embarrassing situation.

The elementary school is a two story building. The Single Guy traverses the stairs in the building multiple times each day. One would think that after three months he would be able to climb the steps without incident. That's usually the case. Until you add a pretty girl to the equation.

As the Single Guy ascended the staircase one of those pretty teachers was descending. Now, as socially awkward as the Single Guy is, he is still capable of saying hello to a member of the opposite sex. But saying hi while distracted by beauty caused him to accidentally miss a step.

That's right. He tripped.

She reached out to grab the Single Guy's arm in an attempt to save his life. He didn't really fall, just stumbled a bit. But tripping up the stairs in front of a pretty girl felt pretty humiliating.

As if that wasn't embarrassing enough, Mr. Socially Awkward apologized to the girl for his own clumsiness. Looking back, he had no idea what he had to apologize for. He hadn't hurt or offended her. But he felt the need to say something and said the wrong thing. Par for the course.

What I Would Do With Half a Billion

It's fun to dream sometimes, right? Well, it's hard not to dream about having tons of money whenever the Powerball jackpot gets huge. I only say this because it makes for big news when the jackpot is this big. Especially since it's never been this big before. As I write this, the estimated jackpot is $550 million. And there's a real possibility that it could end up being more than that by the time all is said and done.

No, I'm not playing the lottery. The thought crossed my mind once or twice in the last few days. Because, again, it's nice to dream. Imagine for a moment that I picked all the correct numbers. As a resident of the Commonwealth of Virginia, my winnings after taxes would come out to a little over $255 million. Of course I would take the cash payout instead of the annuity. By now you should know I'm far too impatient to wait around for 30 annual payments.

So what would I do with $255 million?

I would while away the hours conferring with the flowers, consulting with the rain. No... that's what I'd do with a brain if I had one.

Honestly, it's a little difficult to wrap my head around a number that large, but I'll do my best. There's always the temptation to cash it all out in singles and swim around in it like Scrooge McDuck. Totally unsanitary, but tempting nonetheless.

My first official act as a multi-multi-millionaire would be to pay off every debt I have. That's approximately $40,000 in student loans, $15,000 for my car and $2000 in credit cards. And that hasn't even put a dent in my Powerball winnings.

I'd pay off my mom and step-father's house. One less thing for them to worry about. I'd buy my sister a house too. Then I'd buy myself a house. Something at the lake. Nothing big. I don't need a lot, it's just me. It's possible I'd just buy property somewhere and design my own home. I would definitely include secret passages. And a Batcave. What's the point of being a millionaire if you don't have a secret passage in your home?

All that probably cuts a million or so out of my cash. That sure leaves me with a lot to invest. But let's not get there yet. There's so much more I can do. I'd put a lot away in college funds for the kids of the Most Awesome Person I Know. After all, five kids going to college will be an awful lot to pay for. It would be nice for each of them to get to school without having tons of debt when they get done.

On a personal note, I think I'll set up a lifetime subscription to every comic book that DC Comics publishes. Then I'll know everything that happens in the DC Universe at all times. And I can't promise that's as geeky as I'll get. After all, I still have more than $200 million left. I've hardly spent anything in the grand scheme of things. If I wanted, I could single-handedly fund a major motion picture. But I won't.

But it's very possible that I'll buy myself a DeLorean. And I'll be able to get the thing tricked out to look just like the one in Back to the Future. I won't kid myself into believing the flux capacitor would actually work. But I'm pretty sure I'd try to hit 88mph a few times. Just in case.

One thing I know for sure is that I would never have to work another day in my life, unless I did so on a voluntary basis. In the meantime, I could easily work on my Bucket List. Especially all the items that have something to do with global travel.

Next, I'd buy lots of books. Amazon would love me so very much. They'd probably name a section of their website after me. And in the house that I've designed for my brand new piece of property, I'll have a library with plenty of room for those books. And there's a very good chance that the library will be the home of one of my secret passages. I'm thinking spinning bookcase.

Let's talk about charitable donations. I'd definitely give a large chunk of money to Bluefield College. After all, this is the college that provided me with two degrees. And since, by this point, I'll have finally paid off my tuition, I'll be able to donate more than the annual $20 I give them during the phone-a-thon. How much would I need to give to have a building named after me? As for other charities, I would need to do some research on that to find something I find worthwhile. I have a few in mind, but I would want to make sure the money given would really be going to its intended destination.

Think I've spent $255 million yet? I doubt it. Whatever's left, I'll invest and find something to to spend it on later.

What would you do with a quarter billion dollars?

Thanksgiving Break: The Cruel Tease

Recently, I was able to enjoy a break from school thanks to Thanksgiving. I can't tell you how nice it was to have the option of sleeping late. Of course, for someone who usually wakes up at 5am, sleeping late usually translates to roughly 7am. It's not fair.

But having four days without school gave me the chance to get used to sleeping in, ignoring the sunrise. It helped that I spent my nights working a second job that kept me out past midnight. More on that later. Suffice it to say, it's difficult to wake up early when you stayed up until the small hours of the morning. Difficulty, but somehow, my stupid internal clock found a way.

Monday came too quickly. A four day weekend was nice, but it seemed to be a length of time that was just enough to get me used to being off work. Just as I had fully adjusted to a life of semi-leisure, I was snapped back into reality.

Reality means setting an alarm, packing a lunch, showering regularly. Now I wait for the next break. On one hand, the two week Christmas break is only a month away. On the other hand, the two week Christmas break is a whole month away.

Please, Christmas, don't be late.

Question of the Week: Crying

Do you think crying is a sign of strength or weakness?

Crying certainly isn't a sign of weakness. But I'm not sure it's a sign of strength either. Or maybe it's both. Like all emotional reactions, context is important. Without knowing the situation, I'm sure it's easy to judge someone we see crying. And a lot of our judgments will be determined by the condition of our hearts. If you're feeling particularly compassionate, your heart will go out to a crying person. If you're locked in your own world consumed by your own issues, you may not even notice another crier. I don't often cry. Especially in front of other people. While I don't believe crying makes me look weak, it definitely makes me vulnerable. For someone who has difficulty opening up to people, vulnerability isn't something I like to feel. However, I'm reminded of a song by The Elms called "Real Men Cry"...

Real men cry to their mothers and laugh with the others when all of the jokes are on them.

So I think crying is neither a weakness or strength, but it can also be both at the same time. But if you're struggling with whether or not you should feel comfortable crying, think about these famous criers:

• Superman cried when Lois Lane was temporarily killed in an earthquake.
• Spider-Man cried when Uncle Ben was shot. Both times.
• Rick Grimes cried when (SPOILER ALERT) his wife died in childbirth on The Walking Dead.
• Monica Potter apparently cries on a weekly basis on Parenthood.
• Jesus wept. And if the Son of God can cry openly, so can you.

Going Around

It's that time of year again. The time when everyone seems to get sick at the drop of a hat. Cold, flue, stomach viruses (or viri), they're all spreading like wildfire.

That's just how it is with these kids. You stick 15-20 of them in one cramped room and diseases are bound to incubate. After all, it's not as if your average 7-year-old is able to cover a cough or sneeze instinctively. That's pretty much a learned habit, one that a lot of adults have trouble with too.

Over the last couple weeks, illness has bordered on trendy. It's like you're not cool unless you have some kind of infection. Most popular this season? Some unnamed stomach virus. I'm sure there's a name for it, but I'm not a doctor and know nothing of such things.

Yesterday, in the 1st grade class I observe, a little boy threw up in the floor. I felt bad for the poor kid, but I kind of had to bolt. I just couldn't be around it. My strict policy is that no one vomits alone in my presence. Translation: if I see, hear or smell it, there's a good chance I'm gonna ralph too.

I didn't, though.

Thankfully, I've avoided this wave of nausea that seems to be affecting so many. But I couldn't miss out on the common cold. Started with the sore throat. Continued with the jacked up sinuses (or sini). Now it's moved into my chest, where it will stay for approximately three to six weeks.

I should be in good shape once Christmas arrives.

Question of the Week: Capable

What can you do today that you were not capable of a year ago?

I can walk from my car to my apartment without getting winded. I can also say, unequivocally, that I love my job. Pretty sure I've never been able to say that before in my life.

Not a long answer, but an honest one. What about you? Anything you can do now that you couldn't do then?

The Evidence Speaks for Itself

After 30 years of competing for parental affection and favoritism, the clear winner is my younger sister, April. The latest and most obvious proof that April's the favorite? A surprise party for her 30th birthday.

Let the record show: I did not receive a surprise birthday party when I turned 30 back in 2010. In fact, I had to plan my own 30th birthday bash. It was a simple dinner with friends and family at Macado's. Nothing surprising at all. But let's not live in the past. At least, not yet. We'll get back to the past soon enough.

I'm happy to state that April was, in fact, surprised by this party. I got to play an integral role in pulling the wool over her eyes. Mom asked me to call her up to invite her out to dinner for her birthday. I wasn't sure that April would fall for this bizarre turn of events. After all, I live in Radford now. I rarely drive into Roanoke anymore because gas is expensive. And I'm pretty cheap. Also, I'm fairly certain I've never offered to take my sister to dinner before. Hey! Hold off on the "you're a bad brother" accusations there Mr. Judgypants! It's not that I don't think she deserves to be treated to dinner by her big brother. It's just that I'm pretty cheap. And mostly broke.

But she fell for it. No one ever said she was that bright. This is the girl that I convinced at the age of 8 that funeral homes cut off the legs of the deceased and that's why you never see the bottom half of the casket open. Geez... maybe I am a bad brother.

So I picked her up last Saturday, the night of her 30th birthday, and fed her the elaborate story of how I needed to stop by my friend Brandon's old house to pick up something he supposedly left on his porch for me. Of course, there would be nothing there. As expected, the house was dark and empty. So I called Brandon to "see where he was" so I could meet him and "pick up the alleged item he was supposed to have left for me." I was pulling this off without a hitch. The point of all this was to get April to the Vinton Masonic Lodge, where her party was being held. But there was no reason for us to pull into that parking lot if I was taking her to dinner. So I lied and created a reason.

She was none the wiser until she recognized a bunch of cars at the lodge. "Something about this isn't right," she said as I turned off the car and headed inside. If she had had a few more minutes, I'm sure she would have figured it out. But I decided to deflect her questions by striding toward the door and walking inside. Many of April's closest friends and family began applauding. I bowed, assuming they were impressed with my sly maneuvering whilst getting my sister to the party. Or they could have been clapping and shouting because the guest of honor had arrived. No, I was not the guest of honor.

As I said, this is just the latest bit of proof that April was the favorite. Many years ago, my folks bought a house in southwest Roanoke. They moved us into this ancient house on Denniston Avenue, giving April the largest bedroom in the house. What room did they give me? It was the tiny room that the previous owners had used as a walk-in closet. Yeah.

I'll admit, the folks eventually made it pretty decent in there. They did this by hooking me up with loft furniture, which allowed me to fit more furniture into a cramped space. But it still wasn't exactly ideal. See, my tiny walk-in closet of a bedroom had three windows, all with a western exposure. Guess what that meant from about 2pm until long after sundown? That's right, my room became the hottest room in the house.

Remember, this was an ancient house. We didn't have the fancy central air that you see in a lot of homes built after the 1930s. No, we made do (or is it made due?) with window units that were strategically placed throughout the house. Knowing I had the hottest room in the house, do you think the folks made it up to me by placing one of these strategic window units in my bedroom? Nope. The reasoning? Because my room was on the front of the house, facing the street. It would look tacky to have an air conditioner hanging out the window that faced the street.

Oh, but that logic is flawed! 95% of all guests we invited over to our home came in through the back door, because we parked the cars in the alley behind our house. But that didn't stop the folks from placing a window unit in the window that sat approximately 4 inches from the porch swing hanging over the back porch.

Eventually, April was moved from the largest bedroom to the other bedroom. Note, the house was officially listed as a 2 bedroom, 1 bath house. But they didn't move her over there until they gutted the room and completely remodeled it. They enlarged the closet for her. Though I'm not sure they needed to. After all, I was already living in a perfectly good walk-in closet.

And I don't even want to talk about the time she got a pony just because she asked for one!