In the past month, I've been spending innumerable hours with people from Hong Kong, El Salvador, Australia and Massachusetts, and all of them sound like total FOBs. That boatride from Mass must be hella long. Ha!
OK, people, someone explain the marketing on this Marie Antoinette movie that's coming out. I mean, you're using hot pink caution tape to make the 'tweens go see a movie about the French Rev. Are you trying to trick them into learning? Are you, Sofia Coppola?
Yesterday, my big job task involved scissors and a gluestick. I was totes in heaven. Except when I stopped to think that I was consolidating a bunch of binders into one big binder. That's when I start to think about just how much pushing paper is not for me. But what is? How can I socialize for a living? Bartending sounds like a match made in heaven (booze + Julia + flirting = BINGO), except that I'd be working hours opposite all my friends, and that would make me die. So do I really want to be a mechanic? Maybe I just want to work in a coffee shop (caffeine + Julia + flirting = BINGO?). A coffee shop that's only open from 10-6 on weekdays. Oooh, a FiDi Peet's maybe? Those really are only open during biz hours. And Buckie's gives ben's to even their part-timers. And I could be hopped up on caffeine all day, for free!!
But then people would say about me, "God, she's twenty-fucking-five and working in a fucking Starbucks. What a waste." Maybe not though. I say the same thing about my brother (only it's twenty-fucking-two and Radio Shack), but the only reason I say that is because he's had his dreamjob and he knows what he wants to do with his life: build computers and babies. Everyone knows I'm afloat in a sea of what-the-fuck-do-I-want-to-do-other-than-socialize?, so maybe I would get the same head shake. I used to think about being a party planner; that's kind of socializing for a living, right? Maybe I should go back to reception. High end reception. Somewhere where there are a lot of hotties who come into the office. And where I'd have no actual work, so I could gchat it up while doing my nails.
Maybe I'll wake up on November 22, 2006 with it all figured out. Psych!
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