What's another year without me waiting about 6-8 months to blog, right? Right. Let's see, let's see. I've started my MBA at SMU and could wax poetic about people on cellphones almost broadsiding me every day. Of course, that would be horribly hypocritical since I managed to rear end someone last Friday, cellphone free. Instead I'm going to relate this puppy right back to my MBA career search, which is considered a fourth class for us. To be fair, we are paying these people almost delicious amounts of money in order to be handed a job, or at the least, interviewing skills. I took my career search in a slightly different direction today. Instead of researching careers in Marketing and Nonprofits, etc etc, I decided to analyze the advice given to me by the heavens. That's right, my horoscope will lead my foray into the working world from now on. And by golly, I'm going to like it. I've compiled the list of best careers for Virgos and we can all go ahead and judge if we think these are best for my so-called lifestyle.
1. Tax Auditor
To be completely honest, the chapter on taxes in my accounting book gave me such a headache that I vowed to punch the first government employee I could find in the face. The desire gave out ultimately due to my need for a nap, but the hostility lies latent.
2. Nutritionist
This one I probably could swing, mostly because I have a serious love for counting calories. It's like a weird little logic game. When I was a kid I used to manipulate numbers in my head to equal the number 7 and other equally stupid things, so manipulating chicken so that I don't pork up sounds like it would be right up my alley.
3. Naturopath
Ummmmmm that sounds suspiciously like "hippie". The answer is no, sir.
4. Professional Housecleaner
I am awfully gifted at cleaning things. All things said and done, it gives me a lot of satisfaction when it's finished. It's just the sweeping, wiping, vacuuming, picking up, scrubbing, and general arraignment of things in between that I dislike.
5. Executive Assistant
I'm not going to lie, I always thought I'd be good at this. I was a dynamo at office tasks while temping, so it makes sense. Besides, it would give me an opportunity to be snide on the phone, which happens sadly little.
6. Statistician
Aha, and here we find the crux of the issue. The stars say that I would be wonderful at statistics due to my naturally detail oriented nature that I happen to share with anyone born during the month of September. I could expound here about falling asleep at least three times while reading stats last night or how whenever I say something in my class my professor looks visibly strained, but instead I will leave you with this thought: I was a liberal arts major for a reason.
7, 8, 9. Archivist, Systems Analyst, Technician
I'm grouping these together because although I have a unique ability to alphabetize and file at an astounding rate, it seems just as unlikely as the other two. Although it seems they would satisfy a long held desire for a pocket protector and pair of thick-rimmed spectacles. Also, I can stereotype all I want.
10. Welder
Ah, welding. A past time from my youth that I have sadly left behind. All of those carefree days spent binding together neighbors' belongings, afternoons welding childhood romances into trees, fusing loved ones to metal appliances. The memories are indeed vivid.
Since I'm a Leo-Virgo cusp, I wonder if I should consider Leo careers as well? I don't want to confuse my hopes and dreams of being a welder with something as frivolous as misplaced astrology. What to do, what to do.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Welcome to 2007
Yeah, I should probably detail for you what has been going on in the past few months. Especially considering quite a bit has been out and about. I promise to talk at length about my intense desire to hit every bride-to-be in Terry Costa with a sock full of quarters, but today I have a different a story for you all. A story of triumphs. A story of romance. A story of housing concerns.
As I listen to Tony Sunshine serenade Lumidee with her comparative affinity to meteorological events, I am reminded of two things. First of all, Tony Sunshine is no Timbaland. I've already made arrangements for the eventual nuptials between me and Tim (Timba?? 'Land?? What does a rap producer like to be called by? Probably just 'baby').
And moving on, it was only this past morn that I heard what I consider to be possibly the stupidest question of my March 07. I realize what an epic statement that is, especially considering I had a trainer friend of mine ask me why I was sweating after I just got off of treadmill after running for 20 minutes. It was a mystery indeed. Anyway, to give a little background, I'm not entirely sure what happened, but apparently the pipes in my duplex decided today that they had officially had enough. Apparently after 60+ yrs of existence, there was a mini rebellion and the drainage system made some sort of unholy union with my shower and watergeddon commenced. Interestingly enough, none of this actually affected me since I was on the second floor. Not so for my unlucky 50+ pilot counterpart.
I personally think this problem has been going on for awhile, but normally my showers average 5 minutes or so for two very good reasons. Firstly, I am always late because I hit the snooze alarm too much. Secondly, at some point my mother's pet plumber decided that I didn't have enough water pressure, so he removed whatever mitigating factor existed between the shower head and the water tower. As a result, my shower feels like somebody hurled a bucket of pennies at my face, and, more importantly, hot water runs out very quickly. Ironically, I took a slightly longer shower today for beauty related reasons. And while this shower was coming to a squeaky clean close, my downstairs neighbor was trying to desperately stem the tide bubbling up out of his own shower.
Anyway, to make a long story slightly longer, when I turned off my shower, I heard this continuous buzzing of the doorbell and knocking on my door. I always kind of pray desperately in those situations that whoever it is will just get the snot away from me, but the urgency of the knocking made me think otherwise. Trust me when I say no one loves answering the door soaking wet more than I, so after some impressive cursing, I managed to throw on a robe and some slippers and dripped my way down the stairs to my front door to have this conversation:
Downstairs Neighbor's Girlfriend: Hey, we're having a water problem down here.
Me: What's wrong?
GF: Well, we called your mother, but basically the drains are all backed up and the water is bubbling up into Jim's shower.
Me: Gross.
GF: Yeah I think your shower was making it worse, so don't run any water please.
Me: Sure no problem.
GF: Were you taking a shower?
Me: ... *looks down at wet robe*... What?
GF: Yeah, don't do that.
Me: Right.
I mean, I really, truly enjoy statements of the obvious. Used either ironically or just in everyday speech, I find them to kind of be hilarious. I have an odd sense of humor, but there it is. However, when problems are afoot and I would give my right arm for a towel, for some reason it just makes me surly. It's kind of like saying, "You probably got food poisoning from eating something" or "I bet you don't like bleeding profusely." It elicits a sort of "Good job, asshat" response in me that I normally try to avoid.
Well, I'm sure you're all just on the edge of your seat. Fear not, the drainage problems were caused by tree roots. I know, it totally makes sense. I hate Nature.
As I listen to Tony Sunshine serenade Lumidee with her comparative affinity to meteorological events, I am reminded of two things. First of all, Tony Sunshine is no Timbaland. I've already made arrangements for the eventual nuptials between me and Tim (Timba?? 'Land?? What does a rap producer like to be called by? Probably just 'baby').
And moving on, it was only this past morn that I heard what I consider to be possibly the stupidest question of my March 07. I realize what an epic statement that is, especially considering I had a trainer friend of mine ask me why I was sweating after I just got off of treadmill after running for 20 minutes. It was a mystery indeed. Anyway, to give a little background, I'm not entirely sure what happened, but apparently the pipes in my duplex decided today that they had officially had enough. Apparently after 60+ yrs of existence, there was a mini rebellion and the drainage system made some sort of unholy union with my shower and watergeddon commenced. Interestingly enough, none of this actually affected me since I was on the second floor. Not so for my unlucky 50+ pilot counterpart.
I personally think this problem has been going on for awhile, but normally my showers average 5 minutes or so for two very good reasons. Firstly, I am always late because I hit the snooze alarm too much. Secondly, at some point my mother's pet plumber decided that I didn't have enough water pressure, so he removed whatever mitigating factor existed between the shower head and the water tower. As a result, my shower feels like somebody hurled a bucket of pennies at my face, and, more importantly, hot water runs out very quickly. Ironically, I took a slightly longer shower today for beauty related reasons. And while this shower was coming to a squeaky clean close, my downstairs neighbor was trying to desperately stem the tide bubbling up out of his own shower.
Anyway, to make a long story slightly longer, when I turned off my shower, I heard this continuous buzzing of the doorbell and knocking on my door. I always kind of pray desperately in those situations that whoever it is will just get the snot away from me, but the urgency of the knocking made me think otherwise. Trust me when I say no one loves answering the door soaking wet more than I, so after some impressive cursing, I managed to throw on a robe and some slippers and dripped my way down the stairs to my front door to have this conversation:
Downstairs Neighbor's Girlfriend: Hey, we're having a water problem down here.
Me: What's wrong?
GF: Well, we called your mother, but basically the drains are all backed up and the water is bubbling up into Jim's shower.
Me: Gross.
GF: Yeah I think your shower was making it worse, so don't run any water please.
Me: Sure no problem.
GF: Were you taking a shower?
Me: ... *looks down at wet robe*... What?
GF: Yeah, don't do that.
Me: Right.
I mean, I really, truly enjoy statements of the obvious. Used either ironically or just in everyday speech, I find them to kind of be hilarious. I have an odd sense of humor, but there it is. However, when problems are afoot and I would give my right arm for a towel, for some reason it just makes me surly. It's kind of like saying, "You probably got food poisoning from eating something" or "I bet you don't like bleeding profusely." It elicits a sort of "Good job, asshat" response in me that I normally try to avoid.
Well, I'm sure you're all just on the edge of your seat. Fear not, the drainage problems were caused by tree roots. I know, it totally makes sense. I hate Nature.
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