Scattershot *Edit*

Since the last time I really updated was more than a week ago and it’s been quite a full week at that, this entry may seem a little jumpy. Cope.

Firstly, Alan had his ASVAB and physical at the beginning of this past week. He scored in the 91st percentile on the test, so he can pretty much choose any job he wants. There are no openings in aviation right now, so he’s reserved a space as an Intelligence Analyst. It requires that he qualify for Top Secret clearance, but because he won’t find out if he qualifies until after Basic Training, there is a clause in his contract stating that if he doesn’t qualify he will have the option at that point of choosing another job or leaving the Army without prejudice. Apparently that Army is the only branch that will guarantee you go into the field you signed up for.  He has to get some more tests done. An EKG and Pulmonary Function Test because his chest is concave. It shouldn’t be an issue though. His chest x-ray was fine and the doctor told him that other people with similar structures have passed before. His recruiter can’t call him until Tuesday, but at that point they’ll schedule a time to go back up for the other tests.

I’ve applied for 22 jobs at this point and haven’t heard back from a single one. Go me. Trust me, I’m totally kicking myself for not accepting that nanny position, but such is life.

Alan’s final paycheck and pink slip are still missing somewhere in the realms of the Milford branch of the US Postal Service. Mine arrived safely and has already been doled out to cover various bills. We really do need what Sears owes us though. Rent is due this week, not to mention the rest of the bills that I will no longer be able to help with. Unemployment would be a godsend right now.

Oh, and someone decided to flatten Alan’s front tires. This shit is getting seriously fucking old. And it’s quite obviously personal, at least if you ask me. It only ever seems to happen to Alan and we can’t for the life of us figure out why. It’s always his car that gets egged, his radio that gets stolen. His tires that get flattened. Never mine. It’s creepy.

Worst of all, we can’t afford to replace them. Alan got those tires for free because a Sears customer decided after a week that he didn’t like the noise they made on the road. Well, they couldn’t replace them for free or give him his money back because there wasn’t actually anything wrong with them, so the customer just bought new ones and gave the old ones to Alan. They’re not cheap tires and we’d have to replace two. Yippy Skippy, Batman.

Anyway, such is the state of the Slinsky household. Alan’s joining the Army but still looking for a job in the meantime. I’m looking for a job and reintroducing child care into my search. The cats are fine. ::sigh::

~Liz

*Edit*

Okay, so when I got up Friday and Alan told me that Michael Jackson was dead, I thought it was the beginning of a bad joke. Seriously. When I went to the gym I watched Good Morning America, a whole tribute to his life and music. At one point there was some footage of a recent appearance in preparation for his big tour. His cheeks were hollow, his eyes as sunken as his many surgeries would allow, and I could distinguish each little bone in his hand and wrist. I said to myself (and to Alan) that it wouldn’t be two days before his heart attack is linked to the fact that he was training like crazy to get ready for his comeback and probably not eating what he needed to maintain any kind of healthy weight. Like we didn’t know he had body image issues? He started life as a very cute little black boy and ended life looking like an anorexic white woman. And lo and behold, the very next day one of the more respectable trash papers comes out with the headline that he weighed only 125 lbs. and was eating one meal a day and taking loads of pain killers. Shocking.

And yes, he made some great music, but he made some shitty music too. And none of the really great stuff came out since his butter slipped off his noodles, ya know? I didn’t hear a single song on the radio or as part of GMA "tribute" newer than 1991 and the only song I even recognize from his 1995 album is "You Are Not Alone," which wasn’t even written by him. I vaguely recall a really shitty, self-aggrandizing video from my college years, but I couldn’t sing the song. So skewer me if you want, but that man was really fucked up.