And I know, and I know, it just doesn't feel like a night out with no one sizing you up.

I was randomly thinking about something this morning, and since I seem to record my every thought here, I thought I'd continue the trend.

(Occasionally, I feel like I'm doing this:)



I was thinking about my business cards. I've been here almost 8 months, and they won't give me my own business cards. I had to use the ones CousinCasey had (since she had my job before I did) and I have to white-out her name and put my name in there. They're really, really ghetto looking and, quite frankly, they're embarrassing to give to people, but I have to, because I don't have any other way of giving people something with which to get into contact with me. Derek made his own and said I could do the same, but I'd feel a little weird not having the same card as everyone else.

Then again, I don't have the same card as everyone else now. Because no one else has their name written in pen over white out.

Then I remembered that when I was back in school, I was a member of the Residence Hall Association (RHA) and I held the position of Vice-President of Programing and Public Relations, the VP³R, if you will. (The president, an on-again, off-again friend of mine, was on this crazy power trip and wanted everything to sound all official and whatnot. Let me tell you, ladies and gentlemen, there is nothing professional-sounding about a 14-syllable title. Or the aforementioned shortened version he came up with.

Anyway, I had this really awesome name tag. They were held onto people's clothes by a really strong magnet so you didn't have to pin holes in your clothes (Plus, bonus! I never lost it because I stuck it on the fridge when I wasn't wearing it. I don't think the president had that problem because I'm pretty sure he wore it everywhere, including class. Like I said. Power trip.) They'd already had the name tags engraved when I "took office." The guy before me had quit, with good reason, as it turns out, because I ended up doing the same thing, but really because I took the presidency of another group. Long story.

Since they didn't want to shell out the bucks for a new name tag, they took one of those label makers and typed out my name (in all capital letters, I might add), printed out that label, and stuck it to the name tag. It might not have been so bad if the label weren't white and the tag weren't navy blue, so it stuck out like a sore thumb. It was a really cool, official-looking name tag. . .and my name was on there in all capital letters from a label maker.

I'm wondering when my name is going to be good enough to take up permanent residence somewhere. I do have an "official name tag" from when I was a camp counselor (the two weeks I lasted. . .another long story) that I kept, because I have a weird love for name tags, not of the sticky Hello! My Name Is. . .variety. I can't stand those. Hard plastic, official-looking ones.

I've gotten a little off track. I guess what it all comes down to is that I feel like they don't think I'm important enough for my own business cards, despite the fact that Vi keeps telling me my section is the "lifeblood" of the paper, the "section everyone reads." If that's the case, why do I have to hand those people who read that section a business card with white out and my own handwriting on it? Two months ago or so, they got everyone new business cards. . .but the general manager refused to get me any. I understand that The Peak has a high turnover rate, because the pay is lousy and the hours can be long, but 8 months is long enough to "prove myself," isn't it?

I didn't realize, until I started this post, exactly how offended and slightly angry I was about this entire thing. And I am. My business cards embarrass me and they should embarrass the higher-ups there. But it probably doesn't. Because I work for the cheapest people in America. Besides Wal-Mart.

Oh! And I almost forgot. Since I take care of the community calender, Vi always forwards things to me that are sent to her via our (unfortunate) Web site. Yesterday, I got this notice about a Friends and Families of Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgendered People support group. This, of course, grabbed my attention immediately.

I mean, this is Haddis County. Mayberry. If someone walked up to their friend and said, "Well, Ethel, I do believe that June Bug is gay!" Ethel would probably say, "Well good! I'm glad she's in a good mood! She and her roommate have been fighting a lot recently." That kind of thing.

So I e-mailed the woman who sent the calendar item and asked if I could interview her and/or her group, because I think that would make a super cool story. It's something different, and it has the added bonus of having the potential of getting the county riled up, which I'm always a fan of. My goal, seriously, is to have something in my section that causes outraged Letters to the Editor. I haven't done anything like that yet, but I'm hoping, hoping that the group agrees to talk to me and that I can start some kind of dialogue with the community about it. Or, monologue, really, because I can't answer the letters. But I think you know what I mean.

So cross your fingers for me. This could be a lot of fun for Liz, but I have to have the permission of the group members.