On Having a Job and Still Living in a Trailer Park

After twenty-three different cover letters, applications, numerous versions of my resume and twelve different references I actually, truly, really, seriously have a job. A real job. One with benefits and more than ten dollars an hour (sorry, but that's the truth in Grand County) and one where I can use my brain. My biggest problem now? Clothes. I know, I'm still stuck on the whole clothes issue. My mother says I need to "build a wardrobe." There are no books in the library on this subject so once again I've contacted my only stylish friend, Five Star Sam, who is sending me an email with detailed instructions on how to build a wardrobe. My foray into Kohl's last week only landed me one outfit for the interview - I'm assuming I can't wear this outfit every day or I will soon be the kid on the block whom everyone laughs at because her parents are too poor to buy more clothes or her parents also don't know how to "build a wardrobe."

I was at Big R buying a gift for a friend (a horsey friend, thus the shopping spree to Big R). I looked for "work appropriate" clothes (another term I'm unfamiliar with) at the feed and tack store but no luck. I really wanted this pair of pink cowboy boots with yellow flowers but I didn't think they would go with my gray slacks that I already have.

We are moving into a town home next Wednesday. My friend Dana had to explain to me that a town home has two floors whereas an apartment only has one. A condo designation has something to do with the structure of the walls. My husband started explaining this to me and even over the phone my eyes started to glaze over.

We will have no furniture although I've been told I can buy blow up furniture and mattresses at Target. I'm thinking our new home will look like something out of "Brave New World." I have visions of myself getting stuck to some sort of rubbery sofa and walking around the 640 square feet with something red and enormous stuck on my rear.

The new home will have a bathroom with no code lock on the door. It will have a refrigerator which means food will stay at the temperature it's supposed to be and I will no longer need to worry if the mayonnaise is still safe to eat. There will be an oven and a stove with more than one burner so I can make meals with more than one ingredient. Don't  tell me to get a cookbook on stove top cooking or one pan meals - that would mean chopping (no knives) dicing (no knives) and mixing (no spoons)...I never thought I'd miss cooking but if I have to eat one more rice and chili dinner I may move back to Granby....

Ian and I try to do some sort of touristy thing every other day or so. Yesterday we went to Peterson's Rock Garden which apparently is famous all over the world (or at least in Central Oregon.) Basically it's a few acres of weird small structures built out of bazillions of rocks that people, like myself, walk around and take pictures of and then delete off their camera wondering "Who in the heck took all these pictures of rocks?"

Our latest adventures are to float down the river (not sure which one yet, might be the Deschutes or maybe the Crooked) on cheap inner tubes bought at Bi Mart. This is really fun for Ian since he weighs less than 100 pounds and can float over the rocks. Not so for me since I weigh more than 100 pounds and my butt hits all the rocks. So far I've popped two colorfully cheap inner tubes and ended up hyperventilating from blowing them up over and over and over again. 

Wednesday we move into our new digs. It's right next to the skate park and the high school and the city bus picks up for COCC in front of the complex. I'm off to Big R to vainly attempt to buy something more of my style that I can wear to influence young people to come to COCC, come to COCC! Tomorrow we're off to somewhere that looks rather hot and deserty to find Thunder eggs - these are rocks that look like rocks but have a secret inside...okay, not really sure what they are but we have a pamphlet on them and we're going to go hunting.

Hopefully we'll make it back.