Just give me a mini skirt and stilettos...

Conclusions I made today:

The promise of a decent tan for once in my life is the only thing that keeps me going to the pool. (That, and the possibility of meeting some hot guys.) It’s hard for me to sit still long enough to tan/burn but I’m doing it dammit. I’m determined to have the best tan at Christmastime in Ohio.

Watching the MTV Video Music Awards, I was reminded of one of my life goals – I want to, at least once, be a scantily-clad dancer in a rapper’s video. Call me crazy but it looks like a hell of a lot of fun and just imagine the story from that experience. I’m waiting for your call, Ludacris.

Jeff is a Nazi baker. Last night, he made cookies and today it’s éclairs and cheesecake. I walked into the kitchen more than once to grab a drink while sneaking a peek over his shoulder and he kept pointing to the living room and saying, ‘Get out. Get out of the kitchen!’ I understand though. I’ll do the same thing tomorrow when I’m mopping the mashed potatoes and cookie dough off the floor. (‘Stop dropping shit on the floor. Do you want us to get ants!?!’)

Looking through the classified ads in the newspaper, I realized I should have been a nurse, engineer, carpenter or (obviously) software tech. Just don’t tell my mom or she’ll say, ‘I told you so.’ I’m debating, however, whether to be a receptionist or an exotic dancer. I can always practice for my video debut.

WHAT A FEELIN'!

I’LL BUY YOUR MAGAZINES: Two adorable guys stopped by the apartment Friday selling magazine subscriptions to raise money for a trip their athletic team was taking somewhere. (What team and what sport I don’t remember; I was just excited to have a couple guys on my doorstep.) Anyway, I didn’t have much money to give them and I told them – like Jeff keeps telling to say to people at the complex because of lease issues – to come back when my “boyfriend” was home. One said they couldn’t because they were allergic to boyfriends and the other said that my boyfriend was lucky to have me. Damn it! I ended up giving them a few dollars to add to a subscription for charity.

THEY CAN’T HAVE ONE, WHY SHOULD WE BE ABLE TO? Jeff and I drove by the Planned Parenthood office here in town on our way to play tennis Saturday and there were people on the sidewalk protesting abortion. Now, I have no qualms with people who are pro-life or pro-choice, but it pissed me off to see that of the five people who were protesting, all were men. Until their girlfriends get them pregnant and leave them high and dry, I won’t be taking their arguments seriously anytime soon.

HE CAN CALL ME ‘LASSIE’ ANY TIME: I watched a rerun of Colin Farrell hosting SNL. He’s got it all – the dark looks, screw-you attitude, the Irish accent – except I’m not fond of the longer hair. I like it when it’s the fuck-me length… you know, just long enough so you can get pull on it during sex. I know, it’s not healthy to be infatuated with a bad boy but I just can’t help myself. SIGH. OK… I have to stop now.

(JEFF) I HEART THE 80'S:So I came out to Tasha yesterday. We were watching VH1 and they did a segment on Rainbow Brite. It accidently came out that I had a crush on the Blue rainbow brite. I'm admitting to it cause she would out me if I didn't. (So I posted the pictures of her doing the Flashdance dance.) TASHA: Yeah, 'cause we're so even when it comes to publishing embarrassing moments on the blog. Please.

GIVE ME A JOB… PLEASE? I had a job interview today and I think it went well. (It's in a neighborhood called the Tenderloin. An omen?) I’m debating whether or not to take it if they offer because of commuting time/costs and whatnot. I think I would really enjoy the work but it depends on if I can afford to do it. Isn’t that always the case? Lots to think about in the next few days so more in the upcoming days on this subject. (Jeff: The Tenderloin is the ghettoest ghetto in the city. If you get mugged, it's not my fault!)

Fun with fortune cookies.

Why fortune cookies should be kept away from people who overanalyze.

Fortune: People find it difficult to resist your persuasive manner.
My first thoughts: Does that mean I sell myself OK on my job interview(s)? Hmm... I wonder if I can get Jeff to go buy ice cream.

Fortune: It is time to help a friend in need.
Thoughts: Does Jeff need help? Mom, Dad, Kylie or Adam? One of the girls? Who would need help and what kind of help? Personally? Professional? Financial? Gosh... I hope not finanical.

Fortune: You cannot put the same shoe on every foot. Try amending your plan.
Thoughts: What the heck does that mean?! Am I going about my job search the wrong way? Do I need to come up with a Plan B? Is it time to buy a new pair of shoes?

Fortune: You will inherit a large sum of money.
Thought: Not any time soon I hope.

Fortune: Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
Thought: (snort) That's not fondness I'm feeling; it's frustration.

Fortune: You will soon receive an unusual proposition.
Tthoughts: That fortune following the last? Crap.

Cover letters, resumes and references... Oh My!

Hmm... I'm trying to think of something more painful than job searching. Sunburn? Nah... it turns tan. Bikini wax? That's usually over pretty quickly. Hangover? I can sleep that off. Filling cavities? Nope 'cause they numb you. I'd rather be doing/have any of those things because they cause mild, temporary discomforts that can usually be forgotten in a few days. I don't anything is as nerve-racking as hunting for a job except maybe dating. It's practically the same thing - you keep subjecting yourself to criticism in the hopes you'll find that perfect position/person. I've got lots to say on meeting Mr. Right but let's focus on one of my issues at a time, shall we?

There's no doubt I have more options in general by living in a metropolis like San Jose. Where I lived in Ohio and South Carolina can't compare when it comes to writing-related jobs. Many corporations and non-profit organizations have headquarters or field offices in the Bay Area. Very good for me. It's the actually process of searching, applying, interviewing and ultimately selling myself that gets me anxious. Nobody likes rejection but it's to be expected. And as many times as you tell yourself you'll find something better, it still stings to hear "We appreciated your interest in the position, but..." Listen to me... making it sound like I've been rejected. (Not yet anyway.) I'm just prepared for the long and tedious battle ahead. While I continue to search and await the interviews, I think I'll lie out by the pool without sunscreen.