You Gotta Have A J-O-B, If You Wanna Be With Me.

Thank you business writing class for your assistance with an awesome cover letter. Thank you classy ladies for the spectacular references. I have been tenatively hired at St. E's for the part time job that I totally wanted.

I am trying to be really excited about it. Honestly, it is comforting, but bye, bye easy life of writing as a professional loafer/writer. I know it won't be bad. I really do and it will give me an excuse to get up and get showered before noon. And to wear pretty business casual clothing, which I love to do.

And income, would be a good thing. I am excited about income.

Now I just got to fill out 80 yards of paperwork giving them every detail of my life on paper. Sigh. Back to the cosmos of paperwork. Don't let it fool ya, I totally love paperwork, too. ;)

Holla Back!

Alright so, I was reading a friend's very interesting, super fun blog today and she raised the question of 'bad music' or people whose musical taste has never changed throughout their lives. It really made me think. I love music. I love all kinds of music. Recently I was writing on something and it has flashbacks that require me to think about some of the music I was listening to out in BFE when I was in high school and I have had a wonderful time tracking down some of the hot tracks I was listening to at the time.

Even with a radio station that played nothing but country and trying desperately to tune in the station two hours away for some adult easy listening, I had a varied taste level. I have read many articles that say what is true in animal mating in the wild kingdom (woman attach to mates to raise children, while guys look all over the place for something to insiminate), the exact opposite has shown to be true with musical tastes and the sexes. Men tend to find that one band they love and follow them through their natrual lives, while woman are more attracted to pop music and change how much they like a band based on, maybe, one song. I found this paradox intensely interesting.

I still love pop music. I like shake you ass dance songs and easy to sing hooks. In particular with the old junk I am gathering I like how that music made me feel. Because I can remember the things they inspired. I remember the tribal like school dances, trying to bust a move. I remember the first time I went to a bar and danced and what songs they played that night. I am not a huge fan of country but I downloaded 'Fishin' In the Dark'. What a great damn song. I downloaded some Hall & Oates, some Heart, some Depeche Mode, some Duran Duran, some Black Crowes, some Eddie Money, some Indigo Girls. I put it into a playlist I call 'Old Stuff'.

And I remember singing that Eazy-E song 'Gimme that Nutt' at the top of our lungs racing down some gravel road, smoking cigarettes like we were God damn rockstars. Now that I listen to it, it is probably a little inappropriate for white high school girls, but hey. Music, what can ya do about it.

I will concur as a girl with blue eyes, I HATE that lame-ass Van Morrison song 'Brown Eyed Girl'. However, I will shake it for 'Love Shack' when it is played on the musak at Walmart. And if it's 'Piano Man' or 'No Myth', I actually drop my packages and sing and dance right there in the store. ;)

P-p-pow!

This is my awesome new headband. I got it in the mail today and put it right on. That is how cool it is. I bought it from an Etsy store suggested by a friend, you know who you are. I am now thinking of going back and getting a 'Bam!', as well.

I have no idea where I am going to wear it to, but I might just wear it everywhere, that is how much I totally love it. I have already recieved two compliments from my roomates, who thought not hard to impress, sounded very sincere in their praise of the headband.

Let's get some shoes....

In order to somewhat satisfy my need to shop, I just purchased these boots on-line. They were cheaper then payless boots even with shipping, and I love them, can't wait to wear them. However, I looked at all the other shoes and clothes made by this company and I am slightly convinced that they make clothes and shoes exclusively for strippers. Or teenage hookers, who will become strippers. I still like them and they did cheaply satisfy my need to shop for a while at least. Now to find something to wear them with or to, that is the question. Hmmm.

Fever

No, it's not the fever for a flavor of a pringle, nor is it an sick, flu type fever. I got shopper's fever. I have put off going out and really buying something for me for so long that at this point it has blossomed into a full blown 'I want' rage. I want a gray with black rosette cozy wrap from Dillard's which they are not putting on line. Only the gross black one with gray rosettes. How fucked up is that? Totally fucked up. I want another box of Mrs. See's Truffles which are 180 calories just for looking at one, 11grams of total fat. They taste so good it is like clubbing a baby seal with a bottle of Jack Daniels while it smiles at you. I want to drop $300 at the mall on hair accessories and pretty underwear no one will see. Incredi-bra, I'm talking to you. I want to take out a hot guy and spend some money on him (aka make it rain). Take him to an expensive restaurant where I will fit in because I look fabulous in my new cardigan and he will look out of place because he's so hot and underdressed (because it is a surprised), then drag his ass back to a previously prepared hotel suite where I will dress him up in all the very hot trendy fashions I can't get real boys to wear. Maybe even a slick fedora or cute herringbone cabby hat. Then just romp on him. Tell him about all the golf clubs and TVs I'm gonna buy him while he moans and screams. I want to totally redecorate my room so that it is finally fully themed. Not like one piece of furniture that totally doesn't fit. Then hire some woman to clean it for me. I want to get my nails done, and have bright red extensions put in it and super funky make-up so I look like a God damn peacock --then go dancing so all the club fairies can swoon over me and tell me how good I look and how fabulous my shoes are sparkling as I dance through the crowd. Jeez, is that too much to ask? I think not. Oh, and a Starbuck's latte. I want one of those, too.

5 Reasons You May Be Single

So, today's, rant, I mean blog is in reference to an article I read on Yahoo this morning called '5 Reasons You May Be Single', to give it a frame it is Match.com that puts out this tripe. Now, I like most people will read dating articles in the hopes of learning great tips and tricks for good relationships and dates. This article did nothing, but piss me off. Look at this happy girl in the picture. I mean she looks happy, right? Wrong. According to this article she is sabotaging all her dates by her 'not positive' thinking. No wonder you are single, you poor pathetic looking girl, the thoughts inside your head are awful, wrong thoughts of finding happiness and security in a long loving lasting relationship. You should be thinking of manipulative ways to really snag one and make him miserable. So, I have developed my own --top five reasons this girl is single. Ya ready for them, some may surprise you. 1). If I really were looking for a relationship, I am more than capable of finding one and locking in. Sadly, I am not really trying. I enjoy getting the whole bed to myself and not having to ask someone to spend the money I earned on shoes. 2). The male community is not putting forth their A game on this one. I have been looking and sure there are some pretty ones out there. But, when they open their mouths the best thing that comes out is drool. If you say you're funny, be funny, not an asshole. 3). I like being single. Sure, it's a bitch to file taxes single every year and be ass raped by the government for it. But, if my biggest worry is being accosted by a family member asking me why I still single. I think I can handle that. 4). If I am not entirely focused on my relationship and its up-keep, I am allowed to focus on about a billion other things that are worthy of time. I write, I keep up with friends, I give focus to honing skills like writing, exercise, being creative, and having fun. 5). My attitude, though I think is positive most days, is indeed my attitude. If I am fronting on a date with an attitude that is not my normal one --why the hell would a guy want to be with someone he won't recognize the next day. I like my attitude, it's taken me years to develop it, so I'm keeping it. Because I like being me --single and happy me. Now as a final thought on this, let me just say, yeah, there are days when I get lonely. Even people IN relationships have them. But, it is normal. Just like it is normal for humans to want what they don't or can't have. It is much more difficult to see, really see, everything you have and be content and grateful, but that is what we need to work on because that will make you a truly happy person.

One True Love

Yeah, okay so I was saying yesterday that I have become overly cynical and thought that romance was 'done'. But, I realized I have had one love that has always been there for me. Loyal, comforting, delicious. That's right, God damn it, it's MacDonalds. Ever since my first french fry I have been in love with him. Yes, old MacDonald you may have had a farm, but you slaughtered all the tasty animals on it and served them to me smothered in special sauce and MSG. To win my heart with the poetry of silly songs and catchy slogans, while subtly reaching your hand into my pocket -for just a little money. My dirty, filthy love. I crave thee late in the night and you open that magic sliding window of love to offer me bounty. You serve me with a bigger straw than any other fast food restruant has ever thought of offering so I can suck down a large fountain Dr. Pepper and get another refill of your sweet love. This morning to reward me for getting up and in the car before noon, you offered me not only two sausage burritos, two hash browns, and a pop, but whispered in your smooth Barry White timber, "Hey, why not go for it, get the big breakfast, as well, you naughty thing." And I blushed reaching for my wallet. Yeah, just this once it will be okay. I've been working out. The magic food screen flashed at me a message that said. "Yeah, I can tell you work out, you look awesome, Baby." Yeah, MacDonalds, I will always love you. No matter what. Thanks for loving me back in a fat, fat way.

Stick a fork in it--it's done.

So, I have been musing lately upon the death of real romance. Now, now, now I hear you all clamouring to tell me it is not true, but honestly, from what I have heard it may have never been at all. It is not just the fact that corporations have stolen from us the real meaning of Christmas or convinced us that buying little teddy bears is what a girl really wants, to me it is looking at all the day to day struggles and wondering if there ever was really time for it. Maybe it is a working class sentiment, because it seems to be that if you had enough money to not be working all the time or taking care of kids, perhaps there would be time to stare deeply into someone's eye and really get to know them. Instead of make their lunch, do their laundry, see them briefly at dinner, then maybe have quick sex while you count on you fingers how many hours of sleep you'll get. Perhaps I am just feeling cynical, or more so then normal, today. I certainly don't mean for this to be a downer. I love the concept of romance. However, I find myself in a quandary. It seems like all the guys are one or the other extreme --too shy, overly sensitive, fluffer-nutters who want you to make all the decisions and be their Mommy or overly macho aggressive smarmy cheater player types who posture like rainforest birds. Am I off the mark here? However, I find, by the same token that I have become some sort of weird, meant to be alone, hybrid woman. A little aggressive, funny, and outgoing with friends, but with a need to act like a shy unconfident drooler when faced with an actual guy. This is not to say I am not a happy person or that finding romance in my life is difficult. I treat myself well and remain, at least to me anyway, attractive in appearance. Well, it is just a musing anyway. People are complicated like jigsaw puzzles with missing pieces, we rarely see the whole picture of them anyway. And moreover, if we ever really did, we would either frame it or dump all the pieces in the box and take it back.

Half-Assed

Okay, so I was looking around on-line for some outfits to put on characters in my novels. This is from the 2009 H &M fall collection and I swear to God I just want to wrap myself in it and wear it all year round. So, this poor little blonde freak baby has no idea I'm want to wear him around. This is also a problem as I could, at my current weight, certainly do that. With this in mind I have started to exercise again. The title expresses not only my attitude toward exercising, but the amount of butt I want total, from said activity. So, a little less jiggle in my wiggle, if you get my meaning. I just wanted to thank H&M for an inspirational fall catalogue. Damn, just makes me wanna bite him, he's so darn cute. Not to mention that fact that I simply love the fitted cardigan under the tailored jacket, sexy as hell. So, I did 40 minutes on the treadmill and 15 minutes of free weights for ya today, hot blonde freak baby. And then had three cups of espresso blend coffee (w/o sugar) and smoked two cigarettes. Not bad, I really did work up a sweat. Tomorrow we see...I wonder what you did for me. hee, hee. --The answer is probably something like kissed his partner sweetly and eat a whole almond. That is just the way life goes most times. Oh, well.