Genius!

Newest business idea: A pie company called "Jesus Crust"

Flavors:
-12 Apostle Apple
-Persecution Peach
-Last Supper Lemon Meringue
-Salvation Strawberry (can be combined with Resurrection Rhubarb)
-Pe-can Walk on Water
-Cheese-us of Nazareth (cheesecake)

For Kosher pies, please consult sister bakeshop, Jews for Jesus Crust.

Motto: Son of God-damn are they be delicious!

I dislike my place of employment. This is old news, and saying any more than that will make me what is colloquially considered a "broken record." My dissatisfaction has produced a pretty solid list of alternate career choices I would very much like to pursue. Please consider the following:

1. The third Obama daughter

I would like to be adopted by the First Family. They can change my name, hair, clothes...whatever they want, just as long as I can be their kid. Think of me as the Obama-fied Bridget McCain.

2. Ambassador

I have decided that being an ambassador is the EASIEST job in the universe. You show up, shake hands, say ten words, eat free food, and bounce. Apparently, international diplomacy equals glad-handing and devouring mini egg rolls. In order to achieve this objective, I plan to move to a small country where no one wants to enter civil service, sail through all of the mid-level BS (or pay my way to the top) jobs and quickly get appointed ambassador. Hello, life of luxury.

3. Ben & Jerry's ice cream flavor tester

Behold- a career that would allow me to set my favorite foods to the music of frozen milk and sugar. Need I explain my desire for this job any further? Curiously, this job option strikes me as the least-attainable of the three.

I am so glad it took me $200,000 and four years to figure this out. Thanks, college!

this is why I don't have a twitter account

Hi. I'm alive. Mostly.

I guess I can ascribe the lack of updates to a complete and total lack of change in my life. Some people assume I never write because I am just too darn busy. Not so. It is merely a symptom of stunted development and absence of forward motion, an object at rest staying very much at rest.

That being said, everything is still the same. Spring is here. All these April showers better produce some huge goddamn May flowers. I've been listening to lots of new music, more specifically Rumspringa (after seeing them play live..pretty darn good) and Shilpa Ray (seeing her live this week...bitch slams that harmonium!) to name a few. Booked my trip to Europe today. I'm going to Geneva and Paris, neither of which I have seen before. If you read this and have a suggestion about what I should see, please leave a comment or email me! I have dubbed the trip "Tour de Fatass" as I am going to try to consume as much cheese and as many pastries as possible (this includes my plan to make a brie sandwich using eclairs instead of bread, with nutella instead of mustard). My ass is growing in anticipation!

That's about all she wrote. Consider yourself caught up on my life.

sigh.

Well...goddamn.

Here's a somewhat embarrassing note on my past: I resisted getting my eyebrows waxed for longer than appropriate. I don't know what my problem was (subliminal love for Frida Kahlo?), but crossing that threshold happened none too soon in the life and times of me. Ever since, I have been very, very particular about who touches them (wish I could say the same about some other parts). I've had them return to their natural state several times based on my insistence on them being in the right hands. you get it- I am, as the young folks say these days, a "pain in the ass." I would do it myself, but delicate maneuvers requiring nimble fingers and a gentle touch are not my strong suit (ask me about the time I superglued my fingers to my desk!). Add to this my terrible sense of symmetry and I emerge from the bathroom looking a little less like Kahlo and a little more like a Picasso. Hence, I always seek trusted professional guidance.

Which brings me to today, working from home and in desperate need of some eyebrow assistance. Against all better judgement, I decided to try out the nail salon near my house. It's cheap beyond belief and their manicures aren't that bad. Suck it up, self, I said. You need to let go a little- they're just eyebrows!

Things I am never doing again for $200, Alex.

I look absurd. Actually, no. I look surprised! Like I should end! All of my sentences! With this! You should also know that whenever I get upset, one of my many go-to tricks is to stand in front of the mirror, wailing that MY FACE IS LOPSIDED! Tears are usually involved and eventually I call Mom, who always knows just what to say to calm me down- "It's because your face was smashed against the uterine wall for all nine months. Then the doctors had to clamp the forceps on your face, which is why one eye is smaller than the other."

So, now you know. Your choices are either to avoid me for the next month or to throw me a party. I promise to look surprised.

A note of thanks

So much for my blogging idealism. After spending 8+ hours sitting in front of a computer at work, coming home and turning on my computer to blog is a thoroughly unappealing option. Thus, daily blogging has been a total failure.

Moving on, I am so goddamn happy this week has finally ended. Oy vey. Concurrent career, social, and financial dissatisfaction all lead to one bad mood. When working in tandem with the forces of time, days stretch to near-impossible lengths. My natural inclination when dealing with stresses such as these is to call my parents. Not only are they sympathetic ears, but I can be my unapologetically bitchy self without having to worry that I won't be invited to their birthday parties. My comically deficient self-edit feature is completely gone whenever we speak, something I should probably apologize for more often than I do (never). So thanks for listening Mom and Dad, even when you'd rather be doing anything else, like cleaning the pool filter or rearranging boxes in the garage. I'm really trying to reduce the frequency of my hysterical phone calls to you , with a long term goal of cutting them to two per week by the time I am 30.

See? This is another problem with blogging more than, oh, once a month- I have nothing to say. I could tell you all about my plans for the rest of this weekend, but who cares? Not me!

(cr)ash wednesday

I said I would start blogging for a week yesterday, and then didn't (pouting and ruminating is a better use of my time). So, it starts today.

Yesterday was Ash Wednesday, a fact I completely omitted from my consciousness until I realized the improbability of so many people having the exact same birthmark (in the shape of a cross, no less). I briefly considered popping in a church I pass on my way to work out of sheer curiosity, but decided to forgo a reminder of man's mortality for a tall latte at Starbucks. However, this particular church had a large purple "Ashes! Ashes! Ashes!" banner outside, a very jazzy touch and certainly an enticing way to attract repentant souls. Plus, being Jewish and all, I probably would have felt a little strange about the whole outfit.

Not much else to report, other than the collective misery of my entire social circle, myself included. I got another rejection letter for a job I thought I would be perfect for. Then again, I think I would be perfect for any job other than the one I have. More to come tomorrow!