Validation, Validation, Va-Li-Da-Tion!!!

I know that I shouldn't seek it outside myself but lets face it- we feel better about ourselves when others acknowledge our worth. For me, today, it came three-fold.

First, my 18 day standoff with the labor force has come to an end. Yes, it's true. You are reading the blog of the newest staff writer/account executive of a boutique PR firm in Gramercy. One of their biggest clients? The Uniformed Firefighters Association of NYC...all those yummy firemen in and out of my office...don't you just love a job with benefits? Or wait- were those NOT the kind of benefits they were talking about? Damn!

Second, a Latino cutie was taken aback with my beauty at the Dominican restaurant I've recently fallen in love with on 4th Avenue in Bay Ridge (I'm not being conceited; I was just repeating what he said to me!). We spoke for a few minutes while I waited for my morir soñando and pasteles. He was sweet and good looking, but I'm fasting from men until New Years' since my horrific Hoover incident so I left it at goodnight and we went our separate ways.

And finally, I got a response from a random craigslist shopper for the kids clothes I'm giving away. She was very grateful and said she couldn't believe that someone was generous enough to just give away clothes like that and not ask for anything in return. "God bless you, " she said. Little did she know, I was getting something in return. Something I've really been missing these past 18 days, especially since Saturday's horrific Hoover incident:


Validation.

I suppose I won't have to move to Damascus after all...

*smooches...with benefits!*
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so i walk like i'm on a mission
cuz that's the way i groove
i got more and more to do
i got less and less to prove
it took me too long to realize
that i don't take good pictures
cuz i have the kind of beauty
that moves

Don't Forget to Vote!!

You know, for that guy who knocked on your door last week, or handed you a flyer as you went into the subway. Who promises to keep local taxes at bay and increase funding for schools and keep guns off the street. The one who, when eleceted, will be stuck in his office behind a pile of papers attached to his seat by rolls and rolls of red tape, only allowed out for photo ops with babies and the elderly.

The one who grew up listening to his father talk about JFK like he was god, and became convinced he could change the world. The one who, when he entered college- valedictorian of his senior class- had his schedule mapped out to the minute, and pledged the fraternity that would get him the farthest in life. The one who, as a junior, did lines of coke in the basement of his frat house and date-raped a freshman who, till this day, cannot enjoy the touch of a man. The one who has a PhD in some BS political field and interned for his local congressman, still believing he could make a difference; so desperately wanting to make a difference to atone for past sins.

Don't forget to vote for that guy, the one who has long since forgoten the reason he got into politics in the first place. Who only wants to have a job that will keep his mortgage paid, his wife happy and his mistress in check.

That guy, that's who you need to vote for. Today.

Don't forget!

*smooches...*

-----------------

yes, the lessons are all around us and a change is waiting there

so it's time to pick through the rubble, clean the streets

and clear the air

get our government to pull its big dick out of the sand

of someone else's desert

put it back in its pants

and quit the hypocritical chants of

freedom forever...

This Mistake Brought to You By the Makers of Patrón Tequila...

I am no closer to finding a job than I was last time I posted, but am oh-so-close to rock bottom. Not money-wise so please don't worry about me- I'll be fine.

Friday I was good- I ordered my enchiladas and stayed in, watched a movie, cleaned up a bit. Saturday I shut off my phone and worked all day on some freelance assignments, emptying out more boxes (only two to go!!!) and worked on some school stuff. When the sun set, I found myself with a pretty bad case of cabin fever. I decided to get out of my apartment. Mistake No. 1.

So remember that I said I wanted to just be friends with Hoover, since a romantic relationship was out of the question? Okay, keep that thought in mind as I continue this story.

Hoover and I talk occasionally. Just a simple, "Hey what's up, how have you been, how's work," etc. General BS that you say when what you really want to say can't be said. I mentioned that I was shutting off my phone and working all day Saturday. He mentioned he was working an event in Manhattan that night, and if I wanted to meet up for a drink later. I said maybe. Mistake No. 2.

As I got ready to escape my little cave to get some fresh air and catch a flick, I looked through my phone to see who I could convince to come out with me, but it was 9:30- anybody who's anybody on my contact list most likely already had plans or was in bed (alone or otherwise occupied). Choices were limited...I was desperate...I'd spoken to maybe one person all day...I was sick of my own company...I called Hoover. Mistake No. 3.

He couldn't make the movie, but said to call him when it let out and maybe he'd be done with work by then.

I went to see Babel. Alone. On "date night." It was all a single girl could do to not slit her wrist in a movie theater full of Noah's Ark rejects: "oh sweetie, what do want to do after the move?" "oh, baby, I love you so much" *kiss* *hug*

*BARF!!*

And then the movie- although very well-acted and written and directed- was so depressing and left me feeling so sad and helpless...I, all of a sudden, was not the tough-as-nails chick I usually am. And at that moment I just didn't want to be alone.

Hoover left a message on my phone. He was nearby at a Mexican place on University Pl. I met him for drinks and we talked about nothing in particular. When my vision became blurry we decided to leave. Somewhere along the way, he mentioned and I agreed that he should come over my place. Now I KNOW this is the Patrón talking because I don't allow ANY MEN in my home. AT ALL. It's just a policy I started after The Break-Up Heard Around the World. But goddamit if Patrón didn't take over my power of speech and say, "Sure, you can come and hang out. We'll watch a movie." Mistakes No. 4, 5 and 6.

More like MAKE a movie...Mistake No. 7, 8 and 9.

Do I have to say it? Don't make me- okay? I feel bad enough. I'm not the kind of person to feel shame for anything I do. I'm a big girl and I deal with my decisions and the subsequent consequences. But this...this was...I can't even believe that I'm writing about it I'm so ashamed of it...

Needless to mention his skills in the boudoir were JUST AS BAD as the infamous make-out session that left me bruised and bitter. And that's just what I deserve, too. A friend of mine likes to tell me: Those who don't hear, must feel. I didn't listen to the little voice telling me to just be friends. And now I have to wear the scarlett "L" (for LOSER!!) for all eternity. I let the idiot touchy-feely couple sitting next to me at the movies make me feel like less of a person because I was in there by myself. Which was so stupid because I go to the movies by myself ALL THE TIME!!! Why should this time be any different?

Why? Because the person I WANTED to speak to/see on Saturday didn't even bother to take or return my call. There. That's the plain truth of it. So now you know.

I just hope Hoover doesn't think I'm his girlfriend now. Shit! Now I have to move and change my phone number. GODDAMN YOU, PATRÓN, GODDAMN YOU!!!!!!!!!

*smooches...bruised, bitter and ashamed...*
--------------------
but i've had a lack of inhibition
i've had a loss of perspective
i've had a little bit to drink
and it's making me think
that i can jump ship and swim
that the ocean will hold me
that there's got to be more
than this boat i'm in

My English Eees Not So Good...

This is the phrase that, when spoken by a potential employer, should send me running from the office at top speed. It will forever and always send red-flagged shivers up and down my spine.

Am I only talented in the eyes of Middle Eastern immigrant magazine and newspaper publishers? Can Americans not appreciate my genius? Maybe I should just move to Damascus- I'd be a freakin millionaire journalist over there! And the men, of course, would love me out there for my dreamy bedroom eyes, my long sexy legs and my beautiful...US citizenship.

As I comb want ad after don't-want ad, I wonder if it wouldn't be easier to just marry someone who needs his papers, charge him fifty grand and call it a day? How hard can it be? It's like winning a lottery that pays in cash AND penis!

Oh! Don't look at me that way! Like you're so ABOVE entertaining the idea of marrying a foreigner for papers...

It's like this, people:

I don't have the time or patience to A) surf the net for any more jobs or B) surf the WORLD for any more eligible bachelors who will fulfill my every want and need and then leave me the fuck alone to party with my girlfriends. Marrying for papers might just solve all that. All I have left to decide is: Do I want to marry a crazy Muslim- who might be Al-Qaeda- who's going to try and run my life or do I want some crazy Dominican- who may very well be my cousin- who's going to try and run my life AND cheat on me? Decisions...decisions...

You know, Toothless and Hoover are starting to look real good about now, as is The Basement I just escaped from...

*smooches...without a dime or a dick*

---------------------
i will be picturesque

i will be nice

i won't do anything

you can't tell your wife

YouTube Randomness

Day 13 of unemployment...

I spend the bulk of my morning combing the want ads but then- it's off to see what hilarity YouTube has in store for me. Usually I only find some mildly amusing stuff and then I'll move on to more job hunting and some thesis writing (ok...so there's no thesis writing...I watch DVD's and eat cereal all day- what do you want from me? I'm UNEMPLOYED!!). However today I found some rare gems and just had to share it. I hope your sense of humore is just as twisted as mine:

1) Penis Piercing. That's right. LIVE! It was so train-wreck funny that I actually watched the WHOLE 9 MINUTES of it.



2) Paxilback. A parody that is so witty I just had to share it. And the video is almost as good as Justin's.



3) We Need to Fund More After School Programs. Or more videos like this will resurface.



Okay, so...it's 12:09...back to the hunt.

*smooches...without a job or a plan*
--------------------
how much do you want
how much are you willing to do
baby, this is no business
for a sweet little girl like you