RANT

So I'm a smart, nearly-degreed, witty, funny, not-incredibly-ugly girl. Why can't I get even a simple waitressing job??? Do you realize that here they have open calls where you need to bring headshots for some of the better wait positions? I went to an open call for barback--not even bartending, mind you--yesterday and found out that most ( Read more... )

I think I'm going to donate my eggs. There are no jobs in this city.

Rowr.

Could I do this?:

New weekly paper, The Tunnel Picayune, to launch soon seeks a gritty journalist ready to get down and dirty in New York’s underground. We’re looking for someone who can really dig up some fun in the tunnels. Should be ready to: train busker singers on trains to sound better, give a homeless person a makeover and set them up on a ( Read more... )

Sometimes I would rather hear a hearty FUCK YOU instead of dead-silence.

I am so fucking addicted to Craigslist.

To sound ridiculously trite, I wish life was simple.

Of course, I don't really. Otherwise, where would individual growth occur? Self-realizations, self-deprecations.

I've these dreams I'm walking home
Home when it used to be
And everything is as it was
Frozen in front of me
John Mayer -- 83I listen to John Mayer, who spun round and round in ( Read more... )

Can I talk about how much I love my apartment? Good, because I want to ( Read more... )

Being an unemployed wench can be somewhat disheartening, to say the least. Temping at the media company/record label where my friend is an accountant has helped (financially and mentally) but the kajillion bucks that I received from The Fam for birthday and Christmas is slowly dwindling down some long, dark emptiness that seems to just suck the ( Read more... )

Sometimes I want to call you back and say, "Get over yourself." But you're so engrossed in the self-proclaimed wonder that is You, that you wouldn't understand. The world doesn't revolve at your bidding, nor do I.

A New Year started with those I love, regardless of how difficult they are acting currently. A raise of champagne (or Jack, for me). Kisses on the cheek and a swirling continuation of the intoxication that had been the precursor to the ball dropping...via wine and Southern Comfort shots and cocktails and apple pie shooters that made you ( Read more... )