Scaredy Sesame Street

Just a quick Halloween treat from Best Week Ever. These creepy costumes are nothing compared to the spoon costume I made for this Halloween.

Playing the Part

So, get excited…I got a job interview. I’m still not sure how I pulled it off. It is at a company that does branding, marketing/advertising, pr and promotion—you get the idea. Well applied for a job as a media planner, and no I had no idea what the hell a media planner’s role was at the time. My best friend works at this company, has been there for a year or so—but it buddies with one the executive people in the ‘branch’ I was applying to. Clearly my hesitancy with the lingo demonstrates how much I belong in this world. So despite having no real idea what it was—aside from a lot of social media knowledge and marketing, I applied.

I feel like right now in creative fields-or pseudo creative fields in cool work environments you either have to be a nonchalant genius—ala Mark Zuckerburg in The Social Network—or completely look the part even though you might be incompetent—like Olivia on The City. Now my sister’s initial fear when I she heard I saw The Social Network was that I would think it would be easy to become a bagillionaire. FALSE, now I know you have to be a fucking genius

and you are not really allowed to look to cool until you are forty. So I would have to wear plain grey tees, levis, and old sneakers—which might be endearing on a guy, but definitely not on a woman. Anyway, I’m going with a happy medium for the interview, which I magically obtained through a slammin’ resume that I made look like recipe cards (a play on the ‘kitchen’ in the company’s name) and the fact that my friend brought my resume to HR.

I am going to look cool…that is my strategy. I hear the company is very laid back, but very trendy, and they want you to be an individual, which means I can ear leopard print, always a plus. I gots a camel colored just-above-the-knee skirt ( plus a back-up black pencil skirt), a creamy loose blouse, and gorgeous brown, leather pumps from Nine West. No I just need a slammin’

necklace or a scarf—that’s not cream or beige, got to break up the palate. So, I am going to look the bomb diggity and cram on the company like the freshman before exams. I think it’s an A+ strategy.

The other think was start following pertinent people/blogs on twitter and in the blogging world. One that has actually turned out to be really interesting is mashable.com, which has “social media news and web tips”. I had come across this blog a few times before when I was googling tips for figuring something out with twitter or blogging, but it is so much more. Plus, he posted something on the Internet and cats. I can’t help who I am, but if you bring cats into anything, I’ll find it interesting.

Beware: The Toasted Lap

So, a week ago I went to NYC to visit my BFF (I love acronyms). I had brainstormed a post on the train—having very little access to the internet even though the mofos said they have internet on the Acela. LIES I tell you, LIES. Regardless, I found my brainstorm recently, so sorry for the delay, one person that reads my blog.

First it says ‘Phelps case’—this a came across through twitter stalking Perez Hilton if I remember correctly is an upcoming supreme court case—Snyder v. Phelps—between the father of a dead Marine (Snyder) and Fred Phelps, a Baptist pastor, who led a protest at his funeral/burial. The protestors carried signs like “You’re going to hell” and “Thank God for Dead Soldiers”. In the words of our favorite you tube star—is this real life? “These people ought to be so thankful to us, says Phelps, regarding the message he and his followers send. We should be thankful to him for making su aware essentially. Snyder sees it as harassment—in the video I gave you a link to he says it is, in fact, less about Free Speech than harassment. I don’t know all the facts—but it doesn’t seem to me that your message, Mr. Phelps, is very well expressed with slogans like that, and if it is take your hateful self back to Kansas and preach to people that want to be preached to. What made this news even crazier to me was that I heard about it alongside a new health scare—TOASTED SKIN SYNDROME—everyone hide yo’ family.

Now, I know it sounds like it involves shoving your hand in a toaster but it is actually even less believable than that. It is caused from having a hot laptop in (guess where!) you lap! Toasted lap syndrome I can relate to because DAYUMMM my computer can heat up. There haven’t been many cases reported but for some reason it was considered newsworthy enough to be on my MSNBC podcast.

If I have excited fear in your hearts and caused you to throw your laptop in the bathtub—be careful, we don’t electrocution on top of the toasted lap epidemic—have no fear. Look what I found for you on amazon!—a ‘laptop cooling heatshift pad’.I personally chose to take the risk of toast lap since I don’t have $30 to spend, but if I did—well, I still wouldn’t buy it. BUT if it was given to me as a gift and I couldn’t possibly return it I would bedazzle the edges and heat it up with my laptop and give to my cat to sleep on.

Win a date

Did I mention that I am blessed with the ability to watch the Ellen show every day? So my world has been open to the magic of magic and education videos like this one, which taught me that my relationship with my cats is completely healthy, despite what my sister says. I also plan on cleaning my baby’s the same way, because there will be no baby-daddies. Realistically, it is probably ideal, because the baby is clean, but hasn’t been too sheltered from germs since dogs also lick their butts with their tongues.

Another great thing Ellen is doing as the 10^th most powerful woman in the world on the Forbes list (where they could have used a better picture—hello! She is a cover girl!)…Sorry, I got a little distracted…anyway, she is bring people who need love together, namely by having a dating contest for Tony, the DJ on her show. Obviously, I am entering it, for a few reasons:

1. I am single

2. I watch Ellen every morning

3. The world of Ellen seems to be where people go to make rainbows happen

4. I want rainbows

5. And I have slowly fallen in television love with Tony

I am single and I have no full-time job.

So here are all the questions I have to answer—and let me tell you I plan on winning, the questions is how outrageous can I be, or am I better of being normal/outrageous.

Interests:

* Hobbies:

* Hidden talents:

* Allergies:

* What's the best date you've ever been on?

* What's the worst date you've ever been on?

* Favorite TV show:

* Favorite romantic movie:

* If you were an animal, what would you be?

* If Tony were an animal, what would he be?

* What's your favorite thing about Tony?

* Why do you think you're the perfect woman for Tony?

* What would you do on your date with Tony?

* Can you dance?

* What did you do last night?

* Complete the following sentences: I would never be caught dead _______.

* Complete the following sentences: I have a huge ________.

* Complete the following sentences: I hate it when guys ____________.

Hobbies and Hidden Talents--that is a challenge, as I have so many, but they are so hard to demonstrate. But I am thinking I’ll be honest about hidden talents: finding things, dressing up like animals, sing-talking, and slingin’ booze. As for hobbies, they seem to be pretty related but maybe I should show that I am not a dope so I’ll say Shakespeare, speaking Spanish, and getting leashes on my cats. Allergies—well I’m allergic to everything in nature, but I don’t know if that is necessary to share. The best and worst dates—some I truly can’t share—woof! The worst might be the blind-ish date at a Chinese food restaurant with a guy I men online who turned out to be balding, and that is just the tip of the online dating iceberg. And best date, I would say performing song and dance medleys to show tunes and Disney music.

Now favorite TV show, obviously The Ellen Show, but I’d like to add a little more spice to that—say a little Man v. Wild or Cats 101. I can’t bullshit about my favorite romantic movie-hello-Pride and Prejudice, but I think it’s important to show that I am lighthearted—so also The Newsies, because I grew up with romantic feelings for those boys.

We would both have to be cats, but maybe I would mix it up and replace house cat breeds with wildcat breads—I also just like the sound of ‘badger’, so maybe I’ll throw that in. And without question, aside from his laugh and penchant for appearing in crime shows, I love how humble and shocked he is about how great his body looks in photos no matter how many times Ellen shows it. This appreciation I have is partly why I am the perfect woman for him, I could tell him how beautiful he is everyday, and since I am currently only work part-time at a liquor store, I have the time to dote on him and give him the attention he deserves, including protecting him from birds and dancing whenever he plays a song.

For our first date, though I am old fashioned and think the man should plan it, Ill throw on some pants and begin by wooing him with Spanish in the limo on the way to a restaurant like Orchid, in LA, where I can feed him steamed dumplings and sing him heart wrenching ballads. It also asks, as you may have noticed, if you can dance—to that I say “Hullllooooo?” “Yes, whether you like it or not, playa!”. The answer to the next question about what I did last night is a but troubling. I sang to my cat in front of the fire drinking wine while my sister videotaped it, I don’t really think I need to go further. Something most people probably wouldn’t be caught dead doing, but I can’t help who I am. More likely, I would never be caught dead without leopard print on, in some form. It isn’t so much that I wouldn’t want someone to do it, it just isn’t likely to happen. Following that, I can say “I have a huge” obsession with leopard print. But maybe I’ll go more along the “I have a huge cat” route, because he is as big as a dog. Now the last one is a can of worms, “I hate it when guys…”—I hate it when guys do most things, but mostly, I hate when the don’t sing me to sleep, is that really so much to ask?

Mac n Cheese? or Patatas Bravas?

On a quick break from my dread drawing class so I opened up my computer, this article, What's your favorite meal, was on my homepage (the international cnn.com). Yeah, we all know what our favorite meal is, but if it was your last meal, what would it be. The idea is more interesting than the article itself, but what a grave question. I suck at making decisions anyway, I guess that means a can't commit heinous crimes in states with the death sentence. SHOOT! I would probably be safe anyway, I generally stick to stealing toilet paper from unsuspecting retail stores.

As for food, I don't know if I would go international for my last meal, but I think I would really want to fuck with them, and ask for something outrageous and it would have to be cooked as part of an Iron Chef competition, the mystery ingredient: badger. I would prefer some other random food, but I cant think of one of the top of my head. Ill have to watch the Planet Earth series to learn about some species that are in really hard to reach places. Maybe just bat, hell, that can;t be easy or pleasant to catch with all that shit everywhere. Realistically, I would want everything covered in buffalo sauce with extra blue cheese on the side.

Last meal

1. Buffalo Chicken (boneless for consumption speed and to maximize meat intake) with extra blue cheese

2. macaroni n' cheese. NOT stauffers--that is dumb and too think. A shit load of Kraft, preferable princess shaped. Aunties Annie is also passable. Best is probably velveeta (which everyone hates for some reason) and shells. I'm also going to need some wieners to go with it.

3. Patatas Bravas--this is a link for those of you that don't know the Spanish way to the Irish girls heart.

4. Purple Cow ice cream with peanut butter sauce (Purple Cow ice cream or yogurt is black raspberry ice cream or yogurt with chocolate and white chocolate chips--Wikipedia)

Okay, there is a lot more where that came from, but this fatty don't have time.

My friend got a job, so I am going to be a Ninja.

My best friend got a job, and believe it or not, I am happy for her. But it's hard not to be filled with self-pity. So hard to be happy for other people, when you're bitter by nature.

But NO! I was not going to let this bring me down. I was also further motivated by the people we encountered celebrating her new job, by people I mean townies. I am just not ready to be there.

So, I re-start a half-hearted job search via craigslist. The job hunt has been slower since my last internship ended, I know that doesn't quite sound right, but I actually am busier. I tend to over compensate, like men, insecure about my own lack of job I am taking four classes, working at the store, and I have an internship in town. But things are looking up.

I get a little intimidated applying for jobs that don't directly pertain to my interests or degree. I have applied to some marketing and PR positions, after the encouragement of my sister, but know I wasn't qualified. But today is my day...I found a job as a JAVA Ninja on craigslist. JAVA as in coffee, right? I love coffee, I might even go so far as to say I am a connoisseur. In addition to that I love ninja, now I don't claim to be samuri level, but I took two karate classes in high school and I love sneeking up on people. I also generally wear black and karate chop people in front of me in the grocery line. Match made in heaven.

"Everones here are sweating"

Enough with the five-part plan!! I’m thinking this right now in my art history course, one of those courses I am taking so my brain doesn’t die. It is pretty frigid in here. It always is, but especially so today, since the sweat I was covered in when I got here has since frozen to icicles (Yah! I am being dramatic). I was sweating for a few reasons:
1. I am a sweater- not a woolen garment knit by a grandma, but someone that sweats a lot, like an Italian.
2. It is incredibly humid outside and I was driving around frantically for an apartment spot since I was late.
3. I had already been sweating because I got ANOTHER parking ticket (I realize you don’t know the history, but I’m bitter needless to say).
4. Prior to that I had my vagina waxed off by a Russian, something that would induce sweating in anyone. Plus, I rushed there because I had taken forever trying to find quarters for the meter. IRONIC.

I hadn’t been to The Russians in a while (interjection, the guy next to me keeps staring). The Russians are the waxers, just to clarify. Apparently there are three; I thought there were two. I go see Irene when I want it over with. Irene can do the whole job in 10 minutes—which is intense, and not for the faint of heart. Oksana treat me like a baby. It can take 20 minutes but she chats the whole time. I know all about her kids and her conflicted emotions over the youngest ones 13th birthday party. Today I had someone new—Lubya. I should have known it would be could since her name was so close to labia. I’m sorry; did I take that too far? Anyway, Lubya is a big lady, who at first resembles a prison warden with makeup, not unlike the new coach on Glee. Not only did she do lamaz breathing before she ripped each strip off. Lubya also guess I was a Libra and told me that it must have been a hard year, since the year of the tiger is hard for people born the year of the rabbit. WHAT! Free fortune telling come with the Brazilian, I am IN. Then, as I flipped over so she could wax my backside, she asked if I worked out, “You can always tell the one’s who do”. That was after she gave me a towel with the consoling statement “Everyones here is sweating, dun worry”. The rest made up for that, especially when she said she wished each one was like me, because the pairing of Libra and year of the Rabbit means I’m strong with a lot of endurance, which might account for all the sweat.