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Thursday, March 28, 2013

Job Hunting Is The Worst Thing Ever Times Infinity. Also, Let's Discuss the Moon for a Moment.

Every time I get a solid reject slap in the face, I just go back in and beg for more.

Job hunting is the worst. And it’s a catch-22 in a lot of cases. I am 26 years old, I have almost 6 years of professional experience, all in sales. Now, I am attempting to find a job in a completely different field. They SAY entry-level, but they don’t really mean it. They want someone who has some minimal experience, or maybe a college degree in that field. How to get experience in order to get hired and gain some experience?

Life’s little mysteries.

They also say “it’s easier to find a job if you already have one.” This one very well may be true. But then you have to figure out ways to go on interviews, for jobs you likely won’t get anyway, in the middle of you already-employed workday.

Getting a new job is a lot like moving to a different apartment or house. There are usually good reasons to make the move, you usually want to do it, and it generally puts you closer to where you want to be.

But damn, it sucks times infinity. PLUS ONE.

Job hunting and apartment hunting are both exercises in frustration. Eventually, you find something and you make the decision to take it, and it either works out better or it doesn’t.

But if you don’t even try, you’ll stay stuck in the same place forever, unhappy but not making any moves to fix it.

So, I guess in the end, no matter how discouraging or frustrating job hunting is, we’ll still slap on suits, take extra copies of our resumes, remember to wear the nice shoes, and then later, go home and start applying to more, after the rejection slap we just suffered at the hands of those that control our job fates.

Wow. Talk about depressing. Sorry for the weird sad note in this. It is a discouraging process, but I never let anything get me down for long! Here, enjoy this awesome picture of Liz Lemon from 30 Rock and Buzz Aldrin yelling at the moon. 
 Speaking of the moon, why do all the other planets we come across get cool names for their moons, like Jupiter’s “Callisto” and “Iocaste” and Saturn’s “Hyperion” and “Phoebe” (Phoebe is Saturn’s 9th moon and was discovered in the late 1800s. Wonder what made them go with Phoebe??), and all we get is “moon.”

It’s like, screw you, Earth, you don’t even get a NAME for your stupid moon. You only have one of them anyway. Or maybe it’s like when a small child has a teddy bear and almost always names him “Teddy.” Maybe we were too young and uninformed to be able to properly name our moon anything other that what it actually is. Though, we at least didn’t name Earth “Planet.” 

Imagine that. “Of all the planets in the solar system, Planet has supported life for this long...though we aren’t entirely convinced of the intelligence of said life. After all, they named their giant self-sustaining spaceship ‘Planet,’ even after calling all other 8 orbiting bodies in their vicinity planets as well.”

So, we escaped being made fun of by all the other, bigger planets on that score. If we are allowed to vote on it, I think we should name the planet something Earth-y. We name a lot of other planets moons after random gods and goddesses of lore. So, we should name our moon something more human-y, since so far, we’re the only humans we know of out here. And it’s OUR moon anyway, so screw what other planet’s being think we should call it. about “Great Tide Controller of the Sky” or “Man Behind the Curtain” (heck yeah, Oz reference!), or maybe “Fred.” Maybe something more flora/fauna related? “Flower of the Night” or “Jungle Riptide.” You know what? Riptide Jungle would be a cool name for an 80's tribute hair band.

I don’t know, I am running out of name ideas here. Come on, help me out, people!, and if you think those are awesome names that I came up with on the fly, wait ‘til I have a puppy. Or a KID! I want a puppy, and I’d like to name it Dragon. We shall see, OH WE SHALL SEE.
Rawr! Dragon will eat your face! He's such a magnificent beast!

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Gambling My Life Away

If my work had a talent show, I wouldn’t sing. I mean, come on, that would be so EXPECTED. I sing in my office, on the street, in the bathroom, quietly to myself in public, when I’m bored, when I’m happy, or when I’m writing a new song. And etcetera.
Wouldn’t want to be too obvious, now would we? However, I could enter the talent show with some chainsaw-juggling, or sword-swallowing, or perhaps some comedic monologue. First, I would need to learn to juggle while simultaneously not chopping off a limb, swallow a sword without dying, and then learn how to act.

...oh, look at that. I’m acting like I already know how. CHECK. CHECKEROO. CHECKTOWN, Population: 1.

Life is NOT like a box of chocolates. Unfortunately for Gump, he apparently never turned over the top of the box and saw the little map of what everything was. Life is like a huge poker game. You’re going in blind, you only know your own cards, you bluff your way through a lot of situations, and in the end, win or lose, you still played the game. Life is a gamble.

I like to gamble.

In fact, I come from a gambling family. My grandparents are cardsharks. My grandfather will steal all your pennies at the poker games we play without remorse, and with considerable skill. My grandma is also a great player and loves it. In fact, we’re all gamblers. We love casinos. The noise, the people, the vague desperation mixed with the heady scent of winning. You see all walks of life on the casino floor, and you can see the happiest and the saddest in people.

Word of advice: Never hit on a 12 or higher.

Life is sometimes simply a roll of the dice. You don’t know what will come up, you can’t guarantee any particular combination, but you know the basic parameters of the game, even if you don’t understand all the particular nuances yet.

Hmm...for me, life is like craps. I don’t understand all of it, but it looks and sounds hella fun, and I want to play! I will play. People say ‘life is short’ and I guess you can think so, but I disagree. Life is the longest thing any of us will ever experience! So experience the hell out of life! Drink beer, play cards, hang out with friends. Work hard, play hard, love hard.
NO IDEA WHAT HAPPENS HERE. But it seems really awesome.
When I love someone, I love hard. Whether it is a significant other, a friend, a family member, or string cheese, it doesn’t matter. I have a hard and steady type of love. It is unconditional. It never says “If only you didn’t do THIS.” or “I’d love you more if you were like THAT.” I am not talking about lust or companionship or even familial bonds.

My love isn’t soft, or minor, or small. I like, and I love, with all of myself. This has burned me in the past, of course. And I would be naive to say that I won’t ever get hurt by it again, but am I going to let some hurt feelings and perhaps a bruised ego stand in the way? Of course not. Life is all about the people you surround yourself with and the way you feel about yourself and those people. I have a support system of honest, amazing, rambunctious, loving friends and family, and I know every day how lucky I am to have them.

Soft, crappy, inconsequential love or like is the worst. When you are 2 steps above apathy. You like someone, but you wouldn’t go out of your way for them. No thanks, movin' on.

I wonder about people who don’t gamble at all, who never take any risks or jump from the plane. I don’t mean unnecessary risks, like jumping without a parachute, or playing Russian roulette with a kamikaze pilot. I just mean fun risks. Riding a scary roller coaster, skiing, falling in love at least once, learning something new, flicking a spider with your bare finger (gasp!).

I also wonder about people who can’t help but gamble. I mean, the compulsion of it, the hint of feeling like everything is riding on one card or roll of the die. I couldn’t live like that, constantly on the edge between destitute and elation, not sure which way you’d fall. I am a big believer in a comfortable middle ground.

Enjoy risk, but the golden rule always applies:
Never gamble with more than you can afford to lose.

Love is a gamble. Relationships are hard. They can be confusing and scary and exciting and comfortable, all at the same time. Wouldn’t be as fun if they were boring!

Love, my dear, young, sweet readers, is a ridiculous, silly, fun, treacherous, dangerous, scary, rewarding ride that everyone should try. Fear is fine. Everyone feels fear. But to allow that fear to hold you back from something that can so significantly impact your life in the best (and sometimes worst) way, is lacking courage. Courage, bravery, is when you do something even though it scares you.

In fact, I recently wrote a song about it. I had this phrase “Bravery in the face of fire” floating around in my head for quite a while, before finally writing a wonderful song about it and getting it out of my head and onto the page.

I hope, one day, to be 85 years old and still playing poker. I dislike the slot machines, but not because the odds are so terrible, and not because I dislike happy clanging and bells and whistles when you win. THAT I enjoy. I dislike the slot machines because they aren’t interactive. Playing poker and roulette and blackjack at least require a modicum of skill, and paying attention, and interacting with the dealer. I like that. :) Even when you lose, you get your money’s worth of play.

So there you have it. Life is not a box of chocolates or a bowl of cherries, or any of those trite things you read on Hallmark cards. Life is a gamble, a rush, a throw of the dice. So, play hard, love hard, bluff when you need to, learn how to lose gracefully, and know when to fold ‘em and walk away.

But trust me on this one: Never hit on a 12 or higher.

Tuesday, March 12, 2013

How Would The Pope React If God Was a Woman?

You know what would be awesome and more than a little hilarious? If there really was a god, and then when you die, you find out it’s a lesbian woman goddess.

All the religious people would be hella confused, and you’d practically be able to see their brains self-combust as they try to decide between a lifelong programmed response of “GOD HATES GAYS!” and the much more respectful sentiment of “Oh, well, ok, I can adapt. Guess you’re mighty pissed about that anti-gay demonstration and that I voted against the Fair Pay Act. Hmm...maybe I’ll just give myself a little time out to think about what I’ve done. I am going to go face that cloud, and later, maybe we can discuss this some more?”

Wonder what the Pope’s reaction would be? I just can't get this image of a stooped old white man in a bulletproof glass vehicle, just scratching his head and trying to make sense out of it. What would he say? What would he do? Would he attempt to communicate with the still-living to explain that they've had it all wrong and they need to do some rewriting of their laws and stuff?

ALANIS.And I'm heeeere! To remind youuu! Of the mess you left, when you went away! It's not faaaair!
So, that segues nicely into tell you what happened yesterday:
Monday morning, March 11th, 8 am: A guy gets on the 5 train and starts rambling on about how women should wear long jackets. He said that short jackets that don't cover your butt means you are going away from God, and that God hates women who wear short jackets. Then he started singing (an unfortunately catchy tune) about Judgement Day coming.

I ended up humming his stupid song during the rest of my walk to work. That was the most annoying part!

Swear to god, the EXACT SAME GUY got on my train again this morning. First words out of his mouth were "Long jackets, ladies! LONG JACKETS." No explanation this time. Some people looked confused. But I knew what was going on, so I continued my time-tested method of ignoring the heck out of people and reading my Kindle. I love my Kindle.

I googled “Does god hate short jackets?” Just for funsies. The very top result was “Does God Hate Detroit?”

And I think we all know the answer to THAT question. Duh, of course He/She/It does.

I am not particularly religious, and it generally amuses me when I see train preachers, or Turlington Plaza preachers (Go Gators!) or when random customers used to try to convince me that Judaism was wrong and we just “didn’t understand” and would leave those ridiculous Jesus brochures as a “tip” when I was a waitress. (If I wanted to explore Jesus, I could get my own brochures and Zagat book to plan my trip.) Note to self: pamphlets, brochures, and business cards of any kind do not constitute a tip.

Even though people who try to convert me don’t really bother me most of the time, I do sometimes find that it is difficult for me to refrain from just interrupting them mid-sentence and yelling “Yeah? Well there’s a REASON YOU WEREN’T CHOSEN!” And then grabbing my star of David necklace and holding it out as though to ward them off, and then running away frantically.

I just think it would be so funny!

Pretty sure the Westboro Baptist Church people would be the MOST startled to find that God was a lesbian goddess. It would basically immediately prove that their entire life’s mission had been not only meaningless, but in fact, completely opposing to what Goddess wants/loves/tolerates/preaches.

Speaking of Westboro: I hate you all. However, I am seeing more and more articles online of people using their hatred and animosity against them. People like hysterical comedian Lisa Lampanelli, who when WBC protested one of her shows, she went outside, counted how many were there, and then donated $1000 for each member in the protest to the Gay Mens Health Crisis.

Or Clayton High School in Missouri. In February, for some unknown reason, WBC decided to protest against gay people there. In response, the Clayton H.S. Gay-Straight Alliance held a counter-protest. Them, fellow members of their community and even kids from other schools, raised money for every minute the WBC was there protesting. The Clayton GSA had a protest slogan too: “Love Conquers Hate.”

Simply by continuing to protest, and to carry out their ridiculous hatred across the country, the WBC is actually helping raise money for what they are protesting against.

Is there anything more amazing and heartwarming than teenagers, in addition to tons of people from their own community, coming together to preach love and tolerance, and showing their support for one another?
Freaking gorgeous. It just goes to show that yes, love can conquer hate, tolerance is spreading, and we, the younger generation, can change the world and make our mark.

Let us conclude this with a short prayer:

Oh, Lesbian Goddess in the Sky. We pray to you for many things, praise you for many things you do, and sometimes, we pray really hard for the Yankees to take the pennant again this year. Peace out, Lady In The Sky.

Praying or just got hit with a ball? Who knows?