Tuesday, November 2, 2010

To Work, or Not To Work...that is the question.

For some, jobless benefits trump a job. 

I was sent the above link exactly 24 hours before I was offered my Dream Job—an incredible writing gig that would gain me national exposure. It was going to be incredible! I'd be getting paid to party and blog, two things at which I was already an established expert.

I was so ecstatic about the job (my Twitter account was just waiting for my first triumphant post!) until the actual offer letter was sent over. Turns out the missing piece of the Dream Job Puzzle was labeled "payment." For the honor of working 75+ hours/week, I stood to be compensated exactly what I was currently earning on UNEMPLOYMENT. 

For those of you who have never had the great honor of trying to survive on unemployment (especially in an expensive city), I'll give you a sample equation to put it into perspective. Take your current salary, multiply it by .000001%, then try to buy groceries with it. Even TJ Maxx is high-end shopping when you've done that for 10 months in this garbage economy.

So, after a week of thinking it over (and talking to my mom, my husband, my therapist), I decided to accept the job. I guess for me it came down to this: Having a solid mark on my resume was worth eating Top Ramen for.

Bionda has another business card to add to her stack.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Portrait of an ENFP

Instead of working on my article this morning, I went online and took the Myers-Briggs personality trait test. Why would I do this, you ask? Answer: Either because I am a masochist... or because I wanted printed proof that I am not a lunatic.

Case in point: apparently I am an Extraverted Intuitive Feeling Perceiver [ENFP] (seriously, that’s what they call it). What this means is that I have the fabulous tendency to move from job to job, have constant worry about my Place in the World, and tirelessly seek out new experiences to fulfill my restless soul.

On a lighter note: "ENFPs are warm, enthusiastic people, typically very bright and full of potential (My teachers were right!). They live in the world of possibilities (Of course I'm going to be a famous writer!), and can become very passionate and excited about things (I am moving to Peru to teach English!)."

On the bright side, this test did come back saying that the number one career choice for us restless ENFPs is Journalist/Reporter. So that's something.

(See Mom, I’m just normal for my personality type!)

Monday, September 24, 2007

This job is making me fat.

I made a resolution to stop eating carbs. The way my jeans are fitting, I should truly make a resolution to stop eating... but I get cranky on a diet of water and lettuce (Lord knows how those celebrities manage). So I'm sticking to meat and cheese, topped with more cheese, in an effort to slim down.

The reason behind this crash carb-cutting diet?

A bikini and a professional photographer.

Yes, folks, my dream of being America's Next Top Model is finally being realized! Oh wait, no that's a different fantasy...

The real reason for my sugar protest is actually this: the 22-year old cocktail waitresses I work with (those skinny little bitches) have dreamed up the brilliant idea to have a photo shoot. A CAR WASH-themed photo shoot (the skinny little bitches)! I now have 2 weeks to drop these 370 extra pounds of beer gut so that this adventure doesn't turn out looking like we've gone on safari, with yours truly posing as the hippo splashing around in the background.

I did mention cutting out carbs, correct? Ah yes... so, first thing to go is the beer. (It hurts just typing that). I have made a pact, enlisting an equally alcoholic friend as my wingman, to stay dry for the next 2 weeks. So far, I have made it almost 4 waking hours and am feeling quite refreshingly sober (check back with me in another 12--it may be a different story).

Although that last paragraph makes me sound like I have a drinking problem, my real issue is with sweets. Deliciously sugary melt-in-your-mouth chocolaty sweets. (A moment of silence, please).

Step 2 of Kelly's Carb-Free Fling: no sugar.

Fade to my newest magazine assignment from my editor (the skinny little bitch): A profile of the city's hottest (wait for it)... Pastry Chefs.

* * *

Diet Day One: Bionda commits gluttonal suicide in an orgy of fluffy dough and sticky toffee tortes.

Friday, August 24, 2007

Got press?

Have you ever tried these delicious Butterfinger Stixx? They're in the frozen dessert section of the supermarket and they are about the most delicious working-at-the-computer snack I've ever tasted. Oh, delightful!

In other news, I got my first rejection today from a possible subject for an article. I'm writing about the underground art scene in North County and am required to find and profile 4 artists for the piece. "Underground" is turning out to be apropos as these artists are the hardest people to track down on the planet!

Hello ... people. Starving for your art is not a healthy lifestyle. Get out there and get some press. It'll do your body good.

Thursday, May 17, 2007

My advice to graduates

When they ask me to be the keynote speaker at a prestigious college graduation (and they will), I will not wax philosophical on my life to date or "the road ahead" or the "beginning of the next phase of your young life." No, I will look out upon those straight rows of mortarboards and tassels, at the shifting eagerness of young hope adorned in black gowns, and I will shout, from the top of my lungs, directly into the microphone I will shout:

"Stay in school!"
Yippee! Corporate America is going to be so much fun!

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

A run-on sentence trapped in a 9-to-5 world

I was looking for quotes this morning (because others can more eloquently paraphrase just what I'm thinking when I can't string more than 3 words together after a long night) and came across this:

"I was always restless. I knew I had a lot of other kinds of books in me and that I needed to kind of claim the freedom to write them."
~Jonathan Lethem

This perfectly summarizes how I've been feeling lately. Not to say that the next Great American Novel is buried somewhere up my right sleeve, but how am I to know without the freedom, and time, to roll up said sleeve and write.