AND OMG I WAS THE DUFF IN HIGH SCHOOL.
Now, I know what you're thinking: "Um, D.U.F.F. means designated ugly fat friend. And the purpose of this is to make your other friends look prettier. You didn't have any friends in high school."
TRUE. BUT I had acquaintances. And I remember I had this one guy friend who I thought may like me and he approached me one day and when I was excited to finally be asked out for the first time (or to hang out) he asked if my acquaintance Rachael was single. So. I was the approachable one of an undefined group.
Sad. I know.
Verdict of the movie:
Cute. Made me LOL at times, Mae Whitman is ADORBS, fucking love her. It had potential. Didn't reach the most amazing it could be. But it had a happy ending and she got the popular guy in the end, which is all that matters.
If you do not know, I lived the first 15 years of my life in SoCal, and have been living in CO for roughly 10. I have a sis growing up here, and this is what I've gathered so far:
CO CHILDREN: EVERYONE WEARS NEON. THAT'S BRIGHT AS FUCK. Only in Under Armor. And Adidas. And Nike. And other various athletic uniforms.
CA CHILDREN: Board shorts and bathing suits.
VERDICT: We were way cooler.
Love this pic we took moving out of the Marco Polo Apts and have been bugging the bf for it FOREVER. Was going to say it's circa 2013, but the date came with the photo I sent myself from his phone: This took place on exactly December 28th, 2013 at 10:27 a.m.
I'm glad I started to lay off the eyebrows.
Randomly stumbled upon this subreddit and it's my new favorite thing ever. There's some pretty cool world-altering shit on that there.
Fuck, I never thought I'd get to this stage. And I'm actually really excited, it's for an arts theatre. That could be fun. Hopefully I didn't fuck up the call back too bad . . . I was excited. I know you view me as chill as a cucumber, but in reality, I have a shit ton of emotions that make me not so cucumbery. Here's how the call went:
"This is Jane Doe."
"Oh hi Jane Doe, this is Amelia Allen!"
(Silence; the kind you get when they don't know the name you said but you don't want to scream at them with the alternative which is "Oh hi Jane Doe this is Amelia Allen you just left me a message about setting up an interview how's your day going good I hope okay bye" so you go with just stating your name first)
"Oh hi, Amelia."
"I was hoping to set up an interview."
"Are you available?"
"Ok see you--"
"See you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow! Thank you so much."
Not my best phone call. But I kind of think it was her fault; I have a lot of experience talking on the phone (what with making all my appointments and such) and I think she was actually the awkward one.
Or it was me.
I was really excited.
But maybe when they see me they'll be like "What? You want to work in the box office? Nonsense, you're a STAR!" and I find my true calling which is being on Broadway and I become a billionaire.
I'm waiting 15 minutes before I call back so they think I'm in high demand. And when they answer I'll go, "Jonathan, tell Bill Gates and President Obama I'll call them back, I need to--oh! Sorry about that, I'm just such a hot commodity and moderately good-looking," in Angelica's mom from Rugrats style.
So I'm job hunting, right? And I'm thinking "Alright, let's start with all the places I like to go and seem like it wouldn't feel as though I'm working for Satan, especially for what's no doubt going to be minimum wage. I know! Plato's! Looks like a super chill place where you just stand around and do nothing. Let's download an app."
"Okay . . . not a fan of handwriting, and frankly you won't be either, but sure, I'll do it for you Plato's. Heart eyes."
". . . seriously? . . . I . . . guessssssssss . . ."
So I'm not filling it out. Right now. We'll see if I have 64 hours later, then I might consider it. In the meantime, I can answer maybe a FEW questions, but ONLY my favorites:
What do you want in a job? Money.
What do you like about working? Getting paid.
What is important to you about working? The money.
How do you handle conflict? Describe a recent experience that was negative. How did you deal with that situation? What did you do that felt comfortable? What would you do differently?
Not very well. Recently my mom and I got into a huge fight. We pretend it didn't happen.
OBJECTIVE: Find a job. Any job.
PLACES APPLIED SO FAR:
Pier 1 Imports
Admin assist x 5
Giordano's? (Some Italian gelato place with an Italian name)
Medical Records @ hospital x 2
RESULTS SO FAR:
FEELINGS SO FAR:
BEST ENCOUNTER WITH AN EMPLOYEE YET:
Me: "Are you hiring?"
Employee: "Yes. Here's the application. Why do you want to work here?"
Me: "Because this is the best place ever, am I right?"
Employee: Stares at me unamused.
FEELINGS AFTER BEST ENCOUNTER WITH AN EMPLOYEE YET:
FEELINGS ABOUT JOB SEARCHING OVERALL:
HOW CLOSE ARE YOU TO GIVING UP ON LIFE, LOVE, AND THE PURSUIT OF HAPPINESS?
I am a busy professional male searching for someone to clean my house, cook, do misc household and office tasks, workout, possibly give massages, and provide good company. This would be a 1-2 x a week in the evening or on the weekend etcetera, etcetera.
He didn't have to say "model looks" or "showing off her body in sexy outfits and/or nude." I feel like that's something you say once someone's inquired? Maybe not? Idk, I guess bravo for being so honest about your sick and twisted life, but there's a less douche-y way to do it.
Fuck me, though, what am I going to have to resort to if NO ONE FUCKING GIVES ME A JOB? I guess I'll have to go back to my corner. Sad face.
Outted and blurred for privacy, but this guy replied to my ad on Craigslist and while I was checking out his website I saw he posted a sample of his writing and then there was one comment below it and it was from him lololol. Gave me a good chuckle. Then got me thinking . . .
I was called "Sir" today. The bf argues that she was an elderly woman who couldn't see anything. I just have to say she was wearing glasses. She could see.
So I probably look like a dude.
Because she made embarrassingly questionable fashion choices such as wearing a sheer black top with a horribly cut strip of black jeans covering her nipples. I can see it now:
Her: "You're breaking up with me?! But why??"
Him: "Because you make embarrassingly questionable fashion choices such as wearing a sheer black top with a horribly cut strip of black jeans covering your nipples."
Her: "THAT HAPPENED ONE TIME."
Him: Cringes with the memory and whispers, "It was one time too much."
Picked for me is a hatted, face half-covered, wavy haired woman. Except she had fingers. Remember Pinterest, I don't do fingers. They tried.
Was preceded by Beyonce's "Lemonade." Whatever that is. The following is what went down:
Him: "I found HBO but this is what's playing right now."
Me: "Oh, Queen Bey."
Him: "Who's Queen Bey?"
Him: "Oh. I just turned on subtitles and it said 'He better call Becky with the good hair.'"
Proceeded to watch in shock of what the fuck this thing was, there was talk of babies emerging from slits in the stomach and shit crawling out of her throat, and there was a ballet segment that freaked the bf out, and at one point she started talking about a recipe that called for sugar and whatever else which prompted the bf to say "This is just a recipe for like really good juice or something."
In conclusion, if you're interested in Queen Bey's "Lemonade," to sum it up for you it's like this:
Call Becky with the good hair, babies emerge from slits in the stomach, ballet is creepy, and there's a recipe for like really good juice or something.
Me: Do you have an IHOP?
Him: No, but we have a . . . I want to say . . . Pioneer?
Me: . . . Pioneer?
Him: . . . Fontana?
Me: Pioneer or Fontana.
Him: It's right by the freeway.
Me: Village Inn?
Him: It's like Village Inn but it's not Village Inn.
Me: . . .
After a few minutes of guessing more random words we finally looked it up and learned he meant Perkins. Then he said "Yeah we probably shouldn't go there, it's not that great."