Gooood (not really) evening everyone. After spending about fifteen minutes locked in the freezer hysterically crying at work yesterday, I decided it was time for a much needed vent sesh. As it turns out, I am not mentally or emotionally equipped to deal with 40+ persons attending a gender reveal screaming at me because their chicken and waffles were supposed to come with scrambled eggs. Go figure. Nonetheless, I figured I’d save myself the trauma of attempting to find another therapist (one tried to make me play with dolls to regress back to my childhood and my last one I am 99.999 % sure was using a shake weight out of camera frame during one of our Zoom sessions) and just let out some of my emotions on here.
Last week I had two job interviews, each of which I was initially very excited about. However, much like my jean size, things change. I don’t want to go in to too much detail due to the risk of a potential employer reading this, but one of the two lunch interviews/meetings I went on occurred at a PF Changs inside of the Westchester Mall. I think that’s enough said.
Just like former rapper and (alleged) con-artist Ja Rule, I too have been scammed, hoodwinked, and bamboozled by career opportunities in the past. A few years back, I accepted what I believed to be a genuine internship at a recording studio in New York City. When I arrived, I was led into a small room approximately the size of a broom closet by a man who I was under the (misguided) impression was a partner in the company. He informed me that I would not be performing typical intern duties in the office, but I was to work with him directly on a “special project”. After lighting up a joint and offering it to me several times during our first encounter at 9:30 in the morning, he explained the special project was a “cool hip Millennial NYC travel guide” called This Shits Fire. I hesitantly agreed, and worked with him for several weeks until I noticed that no one else in the office would so much as make eye contact with him. Also, in addition to everyone from clients to the janitor avoiding him like the plague, he began sending me a series of indecipherable two- word text messages late at night saying things like “FAR OUT” “BUZZ WORDS” “COOL TEENS” and “TREND SETTER”. And I would say “what?” And there would never be a follow up response. If you were wondering, all traces of the website, and him ever working for the company itself, have since been erased from the internet.
Anyway, I needed a quick reprieve from my own sad, depleted existence and decided to browse the internet for some more hot topics and here are a few things I want to discuss.
Real Housewives All-Stars. The cast has begun filming in the Turks and Caicos and it consists of Ramona Singer, Countess Luann, Teresa Giudice, Kenya Moore, Kyle Richards, and two other housewives I can’t be bothered to Google. I know, I know. These ladies wouldn’t particularly be my first choice for the show either. If I was going to put together my own dream cast, it would of course include Queen #1 housewife of all time Bethenny Frankel and at the very least ONE cast member from Potomac. I know Ashley Darby is busy after just having her second child with everyone’s favorite crocodile dundee/ to catch a predator hybrid but couldn’t we have at least gotten Karen Huger on there? We know she needs the check. Alas, watching Ramona interact with other human beings is one car crash I can never look away from, so I’ll be watching regardless.
Demi Lovato vs Frozen Yogurt. I have had enouuuuughhh. I’ve been trying to bite my tongue here as long as I can but at a certain point you aren’t a “survivor” you’re a “whiner.” Not everything is a battle. Sugar free frozen yogurt options for diabetics is not a battle. And furthermore, not everything needs a documentary. I don’t need to open up Youtube to play the unreleased song “Twerkulator” by the City Girls and see a promo add for your TWLEFTH DOCUMENTARY about your mental health struggle, your eating disorder struggle, your substance abuse struggle. Pick a struggle and fucking stay with it.
Kourtney Kardashian and Travis Barker. They’re hot, they’re older, and they’re giving us all hope that we can waste ten years in a toxic relationship and come out on the other side hotter and happier than ever. I’m all for it, but did Travis’ birthday tribute to mother of three Kourt need to include a video of her sucking on his thumb? Probably not. And while I’m honestly rooting for them you know what they say, the faster you rise the harder you fall.
Well, that’s it for now. I feel better already and I haven’t even had my first glass of wine yet.
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