Seriously.

today i walked into my favorite local art store. it's pretty new, but they had a few in tempe/phoenix when i lived there. a nice little independent store. with good supplies. and not craft shit. i love stores without craft shit (fuck you knitting/puff paints/scrap book supplies!!!).


and lo and behold. holy effing shit. bitching mother fucker. a handwritten note taped to the door. if desperation had a typeface, it was definitely printed in it.


HELP WANTED PART TIME

help wanted!!! and i want to help!!! i've been trying to help for a year! and in an art store!!! without a uniform!!! so i can wear jeans and tshirts and sneakers and be happy!!! and never would i have to begin a sentence with "would you like anything to drink?" "hey can everyone be quiet? i need to take attendance..."

and part time even! lord knows i don't like to fully commit to anything - but to partially commit?? oh i can do that. i've been doing that all my life!

GIVE ME AN APPLICATION!!!!

OH - AND LET ME MAKE A PURCHASE TOO CUZ I CAME HERE FOR THAT REASON SPECIFICALLY!

(i got a swweeeettt new sketchbook btw)


so i fill out the application. it looks good - save for kinda sloppy handwriting - but what did they expect when they hand me some old bic?? this bitch uses GEL PENS. get real, please. but come on - FINALLY an application where putting down "BFA isn't laughable! and maybe...is even PREFERRED!!


i hand it in and continue on my way. about twenty minutes later when i'm nearing my neighborhood i am reflecting on m day and i realize...

i didn't put my phone number on the application. anywhere. no where. not any place. no place. no line. no box. no nothing.

fucking. crap.

but see - this is how we know i've grown as a person over the last year. previously i would have just left it was it was. i would have continued home, maybe slightly bummed, or maybe slightly in good spirits because shit - that is so fucking retarded it's lame. here i have been, laid off for months, and job searching/being rejected from everything so much that i'm depressed and borderline miserable and i blow the opportunity of a lifetime! (and yes, sadly, this is just that for me.)

but no. I'VE GROWN. call it desperation or call it adulthood - but i picked up my phone, 411ed the shit out of that store and talked to the cashier.

"uuuh...hi. i just filled out an application there but i didn't put my phone number on it..."
"oh...haha, well, that's odd. let me fish it out for you!"
"okay, also, let's pretend this never happened and that i'm not an idiot."
"nooo problem..."

the irony? i gave them my phone number...and they will never, ever call.

Today I Took A Nap

i am unemployed. i am not in school. i live with my parents. i am wearing the clothes i wore yesterday.


and i took a nap.


i feel more worthless than i did before.


napping = wfi.




(by the way, i tag things as "college dropout", but i, in fact, did graduate from college. not even a community college. a real university! which, apparently, was a WFI, because everything has been downhill since...)

letters of rec update

i got my letter of rec from professor x.

the letter included a sentence along the lines of "i recommend Lewis for the position of substitute teacher", and then some typos.

i replied with:

dear x

typos? oh, and thanks for the inclusion of the words "substitute teacher" so that i can't use this to apply for any other "credible" positions.

-s

So I asked a professor for a letter of rec...

Either way though, she agreed to write it for me. Especially after I reminded her that I wasn't applying for a TEACHING position, but rather a SUBSTITUTE teaching position.

"Oh, well you're totally good at wielding power!" She said.

friend emily: i purposely tell my boss wrong names of people on hold

friend emily: so she looks stupid when she is like "hii laura its sue"

friend emily: and her name is like lisa

Mandatory classes for graduation that take themselves too seriously.

ASU forces each art student to take a class about...stuff... before they graduate. Now up until this semester, the semester where i have to take it, the class has just been a one credit course involving you participating in an art show during the semester. you meet with the class maaaaaybe twice a semester. and basically it's all bullshit and way easy.

BUT THIS SEMESTER, although still one credit, the class meets once a week, every week, for the entire semester, and the teacher makes us write silly statements and resumes and essays. none of which i want to do, because i never want to do anything, and none of which i take seriously. because it's for one credit. and i consider myself friends with the guy who teaches it (meaning he would never actually fail me), who was a grad student here until he received his mfa last semester. now he is just "adjunct faculty".

anyway, our assignment for this week was to write an essay. topic? "what do you want to be when you grow up".

wait, what? my response? "i'm 22 you fucker!!!" jackie's response? "i'm 24 you jerk!" roommate kirsten's response? "a dinosaur!!!"

anyway, here are the essays i wrote. yes. two. one for me, and one for jackie (respectively).

I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up. But I do know what I don’t want to be. And I think that’s worth just as much. Here is a short list of things I DON’T want to be. Ever. At all. Not even a little bit:

10.Thudong Monk in Bangkok
9. the 5th wife of a polygymist (4th wife is okay)
8. any insect
7. the Hardegrees
6. drug addict (recreational user does not an addict make!)
5. school librarian
4. Kirsten Rutherford
3. my mother
2. a hamburger
1. adjunct faculty at Arizona State University


So in conclusion…

don't ask me who the Hardegrees are.


My name is Jacqueline, and when I grow up I want to have twenty children of my own and a farm in the mountains in Utah. I want to be the 5th wife of a noble, well respected man who will allow me to have as many cats as I desire. If time allows, I may pursue art in the form of inked kitty paw prints on found objects and the scrap booking of important events in the lives of my children and the children of my sister wives. However, I do not believe time will allow for any of this, for I shall be too busy taking on the fulfilling tasks of laundering clothing, French braiding hair, and embroidering everyone’s initials onto their clothing. I will also be busy setting type for the church’s instructional pamphlets on how to be a good wife and live free from sin that are to be delivered to local schools and anywhere else there are pretty, young girls in need of guidance. I shall be in charge of delivering them as well, along with possibly the 4th wife, and maybe even the 3rd wife, but not with the 1st wife or the 2nd wife because pamphlet deliveries only take place on Tuesday mornings and on Tuesday mornings it will be their turn to drive the children to school because I will bring them to school on Mondays and Wednesdays.


is turning these in the WFI or the BFI?

i'm going with the latter, because i already turned them in. and i need to graduate.

oh, by the way, i dropped the chemistry class that i...NEED TO GRADUATE. so i guess i wont be graduating anyway!!

WFI - my major.

gemathy: waitressing is going to be your only big moneymaker
gemathy: since you don't have a real career
gemathy: and shouldn't be a manager of anything

ambassador roommate kirsten meets the academic bowl.

so last year roommate kirsten and i stumbled across what may be our true calling. and no, it wasn't the female of the universe televised broadcast. instead it was the Arizona State University Academic Bowl. she and i came across it one night on campus in a little room with a stage somewhere in the labrynth that is known as the Memorial Union. basically each college at the university has it's own team of four-eight "brains", and they compete in a game show style head to head trivia-fest. with buzzers!! BUZZERS!! I KNOW. the initial step to team placement involves some sort of "written exam" that needs to be taken sometime during the first week of school. omg i love exams (NOT!) but i do love academic bowls! anyway, after watching the college of fine arts lose HORRIBLY to some engineers or science nerds or some other college with promising post-graduate careers (and no lie, between the two of us, we knew all the answers - we could have won that thing!) we said "NEXT YEAR BITCHES. WE WILL BE ON THAT TEAM NEXT YEAR."

and this is that next year.

roommate kirsten is out of town though, out of the country even, and so i just had to make sure she would have time to take the test with me. because i want her on my team! but mostly because i don't know where the office is that we're supposed to take it in, and i'm almost positive that she does.

anyway, to roommate kirsten i wrote:

i dont know if youre checking your email from across the pond but you should be.

we need to take the test for the academic bowl. we have to. that team would be so rad with us on it hahha.

and from roommate kirsten i received:


i am. im in france right now
and i hate it so far. just got here bout 2 hours ago. the french really are stupid jerk faces. ive found one nice one though and he woks at the counter at the hotel. but i did see the thing for the academic bowl and i agree. hows the house? i got you a key chain. its so stupid. ahaha

this test is going to be so great. is this a WFI or what?? here i come, WFI!!! here i come!!!

Stoned

i have decided to increase my illegal narcotic intake to make up for gem's sobriety. that might be a worst fucking idea in and of itself. but it sounds dreamy.


i cannot take credit for this idea, all the credit goes out to my stoner friend sarah, but i will say that my reaction to it went something like this:

"wtf? that's so dumb. no one is ever going to pay for that. except wait. that sounds kind of good. i would totally pay for one of those. i'd pay for two. do they come in big gulp sizes?"

that reaction was completely non verbal by the way. 100% facial expression. and it also lasted less than one second.


the idea?

water slushies. no flavor. no fruit. just fine ice.



i back it up completely. i even encouraged sarah to purchase a bicycle and a little freezer cart to hook on to the back. she can sell them around campus. COLLEGE DROPOUT MY ASS.


then the next night emily suggested something like, strawberry flavored rum. i told her it exists under the name "cough syrup". and that it's a bad idea.

An Introduction to Ourselves.

So, we, Gem and Lewis, thought it would be a neat-o idea* to begin a blog that talked back. On a daily basis, we IM back and forth generally trying to outfunny each other. We both became frustrated with a lack of outlet to permanently record these golden instant messaging moments to be shared one day with like-minded individuals who will adore us into the fame stratosphere. Lewis thought we should have our own tv show. While I agree to a whole lot of extent, I feel a blog is the initial step to creating our imminent celebrity buzz frenzy. We'll leave the tv deals for later. Like, next week or something. Or at least until I win The Biggest Loser* and get hot**. In discussing what I'd like to see come of our creative endeavor (cars, money, drugs...you know, the things Lewis was born with), Lewis suggested we write introductions for each other to help our fans get acquainted with who we are, where we've been, and what we do. What follows is our super gay rendition of an internet pissing contest. For the record, Lewis peed her pants a full 2:30 minutes before me.

* denotes worst fucking idea and/or huuuuge waste of time.

** indicates having lots of sex.

Lewis

Lewis grew up a southwestern JAP with few close friends and zero asipirations. In her early high school years, she spent most of her time growing breasts and trolling the internet adoring 90s rockers. It was on this intensely crazy thing called the internet that she met Ms. Gemaleeza Rice (Gem for short). Unlike today, this was back when having online friends was weird, unusual, and creepy. However, Lewis adored Gem and, Gem, being a girl who just can't say no (to anything [srsly, anything]{do you have a brother?}]), decided to let Lewis continue to adore and befriend her. Gem allowed their friendship to solidify by way of an unexpected and important New Year's Eve phone call. Ahhhh, memories. From that point on, it has been nothing but zen wrapped in caramel, dipped in chocolate.


Since the year 2000, her blank-slate personality has been heavily influenced by transcontinental best friends Mark and Gem; the latter of which was her sole inspiration to graduate high school and attend higher education at a large state school in Arizona. Lewis has no opinions of her own and will laugh at anything that hurts someone's feelings. She spends her tender university days drinking alcohol, waitressing, printing consistently hilarious illustrations of fairly comical and unexpected animals, and avoiding doing any other school work whatsoever.


Currently single, this PYT has all the attitude and booty a white frat boy wearing a hemp necklace can handle. Lewis enjoys talking shit about unnattractive people she knows on Facebook, telling certain stories with a just-so comedy styling and candor, hating Palestinians, and consuming cheep beers in animal/flourescent party attire. A girl with many crushes, many dreams, many crushed dreams...This blog is to serve as another diversion from the things that actually matter in life.

Gem

Gem, although a product of a broken home with a sister prone to seizures, isn't just another unemployed, hard up for cash girl from New Hampshire, no ma'am. As soon as that high school diploma came bouncing through the mail (she was too busy changing her tampon behind school dumpsters and auditioning for community theater productions of "Oklahoma" and "Grease" to actually show up to the ceremony [but that doesn't mean Pomp and Circumstance isn't on heavy rotation on her walkman iPod]) she packed her belongings (all both of them!) and moved to the glittering city of Brighton, Massachusetts. It was there that she pursued her selfless desire to help those who cannot help themselves (because her contribution to the AIDS Quilt and National Day of Silence at her high school just weren't fullfilling enough and only furthered the rumors that she was a huuuuge lezbot [her words, not mine!]). She enrolled in vocational esthetic school and is now an employee eyebrow maintenance technician at one of boston's best saloons salons. When not falling face first into a fishbowl of flavored liquors (pronounced lik-KOHRS), or nose first onto a mirror of narcotics (kidding!), Gem chooses to spend her weekends seeing shitty bands that will never, ever make it, flirting with older men (who swarm to her shoulder pads and elastic banded skirts, and sweaters with the big plastic buttons on them you knowwhatimtalkingabout like moths to a flame!), and dreaming about having access to cable television and a video camera (although no longer auditioning for theatrical productions, she is very interested in auditioning for reality television programing...or so she says). Her biggest influences include, but are not limited to, Lewis, and that guy who won The Biggest Loser. Her humor is most often described as a mix between things that aren't funny. at all. and things that sort of are, or were in the late 80s.