Of Codeine Syrups and Clerks

It's been brought to my attention that I have yet to tell everyone about my new job. Since I've been off for the last two days because of strep throat and I have gained some perspective (I only started a month ago), I think I can truthfully talk about it.

I am a file clerk, which to me sounds almost as cool as saying I am a notary. So, do I have a short history of file clerks for you? No I don't, wikipedia doesn't have an entry for 'file clerk'. There is an entry on 'clerk' that starts "The word clerk, derived from the Latin clericus meaning 'cleric', i.e. clergyman ", then "In British English, although spelt clerk, the word is pronounced as if spelt with an 'a' (i.e. clark)." And for those who might be interested in being a clerk in Holland, "The cognate terms in some languages, e.g. Klerk in Dutch, became restricted to a specific, fairly low rank in the administrative hierarchy." Just so you know. (Oh, and in the U.K. there is a Clerk of the Closet. Yeah, that's right.)

Because I'm that way, I also did an image search for 'file clerk' and this is what was returned:


a)


b) c) d)

e) f)
g)


Image Key
a) clip art - okay, i get it (sort of)
b) i really hope i'm not a file clerk as long as the good Mr. Pekar and that i get famous younger
c) yeah, because that's just how i look when i'm sorting files (dirty, dirty files)
d) i have actually looked this happy when i found a file. why?
e) because this is a good approximation of the state of the offices files - just imagine about seven different offices, three hallways, a closed file room and two basement storage units worth of these files and you'll get an idea of how hard it is to find a file when it's not where it's supposed to be. which happens more than it should.
f) this is what i wished the files in the office looked like. ah, so orderly and categorized with that old-timey cabinetry goodness.
g) i have no idea. official file clerk swimming attire?

In conclusion, I am underpaid and overqualified and enjoying this job more than most others that I've had. What can i say? I like filing.

I do have plans to make the lawyers realize they need a full time records manager for the amount of files that they have and that it really is critical that they start to digitize records (a project I would be more than qualified to oversee) and include vital administrative information, like location of the file, in the existing database.


Okay, I'm off to take some more penicillin and codeine cough syrup (mmm, opiates).

Close Your Eyes and Pretend I Posted This a Week Ago

Ah, the sea. I haven't been saying that enough lately, and I certainly have not been out to the coast enough for any Goonie-esqu adventures or otherwise.

All that changed at the end of April when we took my friend Sara to the beach for her birthday. Caitlin (Sara's sister) and Ariel rented seaside rooms for the trip and we fell asleep each night and woke up each day with the sound of waves in our ears. Sigh.

The point on the coast we went to was Rockaway Beach, which sounds like a 1950's beach-blanket movie (you know the kind where wholesome, middle-class kids are just tryin' to have a rockin' time by the surf and then this obviously lower-class gang who wears leather jackets with their swimming trunks comes and tries to ruin the party - then, instead of coming to an understanding about the hardships of the class struggle and dispelling socio-economic stereotypes, the wholesome kids win the high stake dance-off and reclaim the beach for the fun-loving bourgeoisie everywhere).

That was not what our trip to the beach was like, it was much cooler. Here it is:

We arrived on Friday evening as it was growing dark. The sky was overcast, there was spray in the cold air and we had three bottles of wine to tide us over until Emily arrived with the other dozen bottles for the weekend.

We were staying in the Silver Sands. There were useful signs in the room such as this one that said something like, "Do Not Put Personal Items on Stove, Fire Will Result." We promptly decided to place many personal items on the stove before we left. We forgot to even place one before leaving.

In the cup is not tea or coffee or coco, but wine. Whenever you spot a white mug in a picture, it probably has wine in it. I'll give anyone a prize who can tell me how many mugs of wine I drank over the course of the weekend (no, seriously, I'd like to know).

The next day the sun was out, but it took us a while to get outside.

(Ariel did not leave the hotel room at all that day.)

When we did get outside, it was glorious.

Sounds weird, but I'd forgotten about the sea. No, not like I forgot that it was there, or that I stopped reading my geeky maritime books (for all of those interested in the depths of my geekiness, yes, I did just look up 'nautical' and 'maritime' to make sure I was using the correct term) (again, for those interested, nautical pertains more to ships, sailing or seamen - ha, seamen - while maritime is relating to or "of the sea"), I'd forgotten how it smells and sounds and how it makes people feel and how amazing it is. I love the sea.

There were many walks, a cheezy tourist shop called Flamingo Jim's, there was a jacuzzi and swimming pool (for all those not from a northern coastal region, yes it is necessary to have alternate swimming options because sometimes it's just too fucking cold to swim off the Oregon coast - that didn't matter to us when we were teenagers, but now none of us are so keen to get that awesome blue skin tone). And most of all, there was wine. Again, any time you see a white mug in a picture, it has wine in it.

wine

Wine

W-I-N-E


Here are some other things:

the dog I met on the beach who i wanted to kidnap because it was so adorable (and its owner was not paying attention to it)


the night the light in the room attracted Caitlin to it like a moth . . . a dancin' robot moth

The creepy coastal church that for some reason reminded me of the Omen.



Oh and the moment I obtained the power of flight and flew feet first out to the horizon



Then it was time to leave.
Sara wore the most amazing hippie dress and on the way home, when we stopped to view a historical train, we played a game. Sara called it "Hippies in Distress"
I called it good, clean fun (I was pretending I'd just detached a car full of hippies from the back of the train, sending them to their doom, I guess that's why Sara's so upset).

The train was in Garibaldi and it was awesome. According to the Garibaldi Oregon Resource Guide, what we were gawking at was the "Lion's Lumbermen's Park and antique train display" - which explains why we couldn't go into the train because it is actually the Lion's den or clubhouse or whatever they call it. It does not explain why there was a creepy, half-seen manikin in the caboose.


And I didn't even notice that weird little porcelain midget in the corner.
I think the "Lumberman's Park" part of the thing was supposed to be these arranged, hanging chainsaws.

Ah, unsettling, just the way I like my history.

I took a lot of pictures of the train because I go a little nuts over historical sites - okay, okay, I get really overexcited and have been known to squeal and clap my hands in a school girlish type way. So, moving on . . .

On the way home we also tried to find the watery ruins of Bay Ocean. Situated in a bay just west of Tillamook, Bay Ocean was once a quaint little coastal town that by the turn of the century had a bathhouse, main street and even (so the legend goes) a bowling alley. Then the evil Army Corp. of Engineers came to town and fucked up some damn project, which caused thr water in the bay to rise. Everything flooded, even the bowling alley, and the residents were forced to flee. Emily tells the story better (she has a special hatred for the Army Corp. of Engineers), but the point is the town was left to rot in its aquatic grave.


Yeah, we couldn't find any trace of the ruins either, and Emily was pretty sure we were at the right bay. Anyway, it was beautiful.

As Sara's hippie dress billowed in the wind, we said goodbye to our coastal adventure and to each other (I didn't ask anyone to pose for this picture, they just stood this way naturally - honest).
Then on the way home Sara, Caitlin and I stopped at the gas station of the Great Mullet (so called because the gas station attendant had the most epic mullet ever) and tried to get the Oriental Pleasure Ring out of the dispenser in the bathroom- which is surprisingly elusive, Sara and I tried multiple times and we didn't even get the full "Erotic Kit". So, I was only able to bring back the questionably flavored arousal lotion and something else equally unsexy as gifts.

Well, that was our trip - of course it wasn't all of the trip, I left out a lot or else this post would have been three or five times as long and very, very boring. And what did I learn from this whole experience? Three things: One, I need the sea in my life and will one day retire to a city on the coast; Two, I should go swimming more and; Three, I want a club house on a historical train because it looks rad.




P.S. By the way, best unintentional impersonation of the weekend goes to Emily for her unintentional impersonation of a beatnik (I think it was unintentional)