Opopanox, Home of the Arrogant Worm

We won! Well, sort’ve. After hunting for God knows how long,, we’ve managed to change the font on all the websites.

Here you go, white text on black backround. Links are in yellow. Now we just need a way to not lose font and buttons/images when we blow up the text size. But seriously, the font color change works wonders, very, very useful if anyone wants to give it a go.

Edit: oops, forgot the link.

Link located Here

I know, been horrible blogging the past….year or so. Been busy, and seem to be going slowly. Better pick up pretty soon. But, guess what I found for – three dollars – at a mini flea market down the block?

Go on guess.

A robot!

A dinosaur robot!

Light grey robot dinosaur, a raptor, with darker grey and black stripes, blue eyes. Leaning forward, facing to the right with jaws bared.

We talked to the couple, who were there selling stuff they’d cleaned out of their garage. Apparently they bought the dinosaur (and another robot, sapient-something-or-other, my mother bought it for five and gave it to my grandmother to give for kids’ Christmas donations) for their two sons and they played with ‘em like, twice, and then into the garage it went. Unfortunately, the remote for the dinosaur was misplaced (Ma’s robot has the remote with it) so I need to order one from ebay or something.

Also rather sad is Dino fell outta the bag right after I got out of the truck bounced on the pavement, so now his back ridge is missing an inch long piece. I couldn’t find the piece, I think it blew away in the wind. I didn’t notice it was gone till hours later, and when I went back out to look, ….yeah. Anyway, s’fixable, so Dino’s going on my list of things to Get Done Within The Year. I’d like to repaint the stripes, too, cuz I can’t miss tinkering with a paintjob. Also on that list is a bike from the nineteen fourties that really needs to be redone (lazy and broke with that, though mostly broke) and, oddly enough, a teapot clock I’ve been hauling around that my mother was supposed to give my aunt years ago. The clock fell out of it, need to put it back in so she can finally cart it over. Blah. On the upside, the bathroom leak is fixed, Dad got to handle that one.

Edited – nevermind, what I took to be a gouge turned out to be a screw hole wayyy down deep. That’s what I get for not examining minutely at every angle before rushing off in panic. I’m generally better than that, but eh.

Presentation – can’t avoid it anymore, at least in job interviews. Not gendered presentation,but disabled presentation. Gendered presentation is iffy for me, no matter which direction someone’s reading me from. But with the applications and interviews, it’s difficult. When I was doing the hours for serve, after a few minutes (sometimes up to an hour) there comes the inevitable – “Why’re you wearing those? (ie, the sunglasses over my regular pair). Which was a bit odd, considering I was introduced every time as being there for voc rehab – any obvious anamolies should’ve been chalked up to me using voc rehab, I would’ve thought, especially as the places I was taken to were on the list of buildings that accepted it regularly. But apparently not, people are nosy. Unless it’s a specific item like a cane, I’m willing to bet money they’d ask everyone, and even then if they saw someone walking without it for a bit, you can bet they’d toddle on over and inquire once there was a spare minute. Anyway, without stereotyped, – visual – cues, people seem to assume competent, quick ability in every aspect of job performance , – no matter what they were informed of previously. On my last day working, I was helping one guy with his addition skills, the next worksheet was combining said skills with pictured money-coins. And down the table (which was about ten feet long all together) the other two aids were having a conversation. About me. Along the lines of “D’you think Worm can do this?” I dunno, might have problems…”

It’s like, well gee, thanks for caring, (really, don’t see that much in life, truly, thank you) but as I – was -a mere few feet away, you could always ask instead of trying to guess. Really – asking does not offend me.

Which illustrates, in a round about way, the problem. In a job interview, whats-her-name from voc rehab insisted I tell them about the eyesight. Now, everyone else on this planet knows that if I do that, there goes what chance I have of getting hired. Not telling them, however, isn’t really an option anymore. I’ve enjoyed living without an ocular migraine and a perpetual squint, among other things, and m’not giving it up just to get ‘layed off’ two weeks into wherever hires me. Leaving ‘em home in the hopes that ‘no one will notice’ said vision, I’ll end up getting ‘laid off’ again, but if I wear them to the interview, the interviewer will undoubtibly either ask -why- I’m wearing them (like the people did as I completed the hours), in which case = screwed, or they won’t ask at all (as they didn’t have proper time to get up nerve (since I’m in a precarious spot wrt transition, and binding is, bluntly, not an option wrt work I’m generally read as female, though funnily enough not ‘woman’ – half the time still he’d. Although I’ve doubts the people who actually read me as male think I’m particularly butch, but that’s another matter. Grew hair a bit longer, hoping that helps secure me a job since people loath androgyny, we’ll see, the great irony is you can’t do a damn thing transition and health care wise in any direction without money, and there’ll prolly be enough unpleasantness at work the second I get Dr’s approval). Seriously, by my calculations, three months of work’ll give me enough funds for an apartment and switching bills, et cetera, then hopefully off I go to a dr. office with whatever healthcare the state sticks me on, and good lord please lemmie find a doc. that’ll help slither it through the system – but anyway, leave glasses on, in which case they’ll think I’m rude and unprofessional, wearing sunglasses to an interview and there goes my job application, dismissed out of hand. I’m a bit lost, what the hell do you tell someone in job interviews? I’d say skip wearing them to an interview and then wear ‘em to work, but I’d rather not be accused of misrepresentation.