17 November 2009

A brief history.

Well my little friends, it's time again for another blog post. It's a rainy Tuesday afternoon here in northern Illinois, and I'm glad I have a job inside. Even though I'm 30, I've worked in a bunch of different workplaces. Let's take a trip back to 1994 through 2007!

I'm a corn-detassler! I walk through rows and rows of corn a foot taller than me and pull out every tassle I see. Mom drops me off at school around 4:45am with a red and white cooler full of food to last me through 2 breaks and lunch. The season of detassling is about 3 weeks long. The inexperienced kids in my crew wear garbage bags in the early morning. The seasoned ones wear spiffy blue rain slickers to combat the wet corn and sharp edges of the corn leaves.

Corn detassler! See above! My biggest fear this year is that I'll die in a droughted cornfield, because the older kids feel the need to smoke cigarettes and detassle at the same time. Miraculously the corn gets done and the fields are still standing.

I'm a babysitter! Every morning 7:30-3pm I get picked up and driven into the country to babysit for 2 kids. Nothing so memorable about this job except: 1. The littler of the two kids only falls asleep to Field of Dreams. I love this movie. 2.The mom who drives me to work and home has a broken thumb and can't drive safely with this disability. This job taught me to appreciate my thumbs.

I finished high school in May and moved to Alabama for a month and a half to live with my Dad while he was starting his new job, while my Mom packed the house in Milledgeville. Highlights from 1997 include: Taking golfing lessons in Arab (pronounced A-rab), AL, finding a slow-pitch softball team to play on called the Bronze Bodies. I hadn't met the criteria of a bronze body, but I was allowed to play. The team also never cared to ask my real name, and preferred to called me Yankee. It even said Yankee on the batting line-up in the dugout.
Once I got to college, I found that I could tutor the international students in English skills. So my first semester I had a Japanese student I tutored.

Holy cow I'm a photographer for the Iowa Falls Rugby team. How in the world did this noble honor fall into my hands? Well, my college softball coach is on the team and he mentioned my humble skills to the team doctor/historian. So now I find my weekends filled with scrums, half-naked chubby Iowa men, kegs, and an assortment of funnels the team uses to pee out of the old green bus as we roll around the countryside. Lessons learned: A team doctor is necessary for a successful season of rugby, especially when your teammates slammed their heads into each other for the bloody effect before the match starts.

This post is taking too long. I'll add more tomorrow. I know you're all waiting in suspense!

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