Sunday, October 27, 2013


Someday my posts about bad dates will end, and I'll have a good date that lasts forever, but until then I suppose I can at least keep you entertained.

I met a nice young man at a friend's wedding recently.  I wasn't necessarily looking to meet someone since the wedding was out-of-town, but it turned out that this guy lived in south LA.  He seemed fun and social at the wedding, and was very polite - he'd go and get me drinks when I was about to go so I could continue to dance, etc (no, he did not roofie me, sorry).  At the post-wedding brunch the next morning he even offered to get me some advil for my hangover, which he did promptly.  Very thoughtful. 

We didn't exchange numbers because there was always some awkward group dynamic, but he asked the bride for my number and we started chatting.  I invited him to Oktoberfest since it was near his place, and he not only came, he stood in line with me for a whole hour to get tickets since I didn't get them online (whoopsie).  Bought all my beers that night, etc.

So we hang out for a couple of weeks, and I'm still not entirely sure if I'm interested or not, because I feel like he hasn't opened up much.  A few things did sort of slip out, though, that I was slightly disturbed by.  In passing, driving to lunch or somewhere, he was talking about the new things they were building in his neighborhood, and then mentioned that it had gotten a lot more "ethnic" than when he first moved there.  Um, son, you live in LOS ANGELES.  In any given day, I am likely to hear at LEAST 3 languages, possibly more (English, Spanish, Armenian, Chinese, Farsi...) and he seems "surprised" that ANYWHERE in the city is "ethnic?"  I began to be on my guard, because I didn't like that statement.

Last week I invited him to a friend's Halloween party, because I was sort of hoping that was an isolated incident and perhaps he'd start opening up in a party atmosphere, like when I first met him.  A couple of days later, he texted me a picture of Milli Vanilli.  After a complete WTF moment, he said that was what he was being for Halloween.  Funny, yet not so funny if you only have Milli and not Vanilli...but whatever he wanted to do.

A couple of days later he texts me with a picture of him in costume, a hat, wig, and sunglasses.  He looked like Ozzy Osbourne, and I told him that jokingly.  And then here it came:

"I won't when I'm wearing my makeup!"
Hoping to all that was holy he was talking about some sort of Michael Jackson eyeliner or the like and not what I assumed, I asked
"Yeah, my face paint."
"You mean blackface?"
"NO."  followed by "You're joking right?"
"No, why?"
"Dude it's fucking 2013, you can't fucking wear blackface!!!"
"Why not?"

The conversation continued with him seemingly COMPLETELY IGNORANT of the fact that blackface hasn't been socially acceptable since like 1930, not to mention that it's ALWAYS been racist... So I told him that under no circumstances would he be wearing blackface to my friend's party, and I would not attend ANY party with him if he wore that.  He agreed not to, but still didn't really seem to understand.

I called him the next day.  "Dude.  Do you REALLY not understand why it's not ok to wear blackface?"
"Well, no..."
I told him the story of fraternities and sororities that got in major trouble for having only a FEW of their many members wear blackface at parties, and that these people were suspended or put on probation from their house.  And this was in TEXAS.  We're in LA.  I'm surprised I don't slip in a puddle of rainbows and liberalism on a daily basis, and this guy had literally no concept of how offensive this was.

He didn't say much in response.  No "I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was that out of line" or "I had no idea, I will definitely not do it now."  Just sort of quiet on the other line occasionally mumbling "ok" every now and then, and not like he'd had some revelation of his idiocy.  I don't know why I didn't take this occasion to get rid of him quickly and easily, but I think I was still in a state of shock that a human being in one of the most diverse and liberal cities in the country didn't know blackface was racist.

I took the opportunity to ask another question:  "How do you feel about gay people?"
"Well, I don't know any really, but I don't have a problem with them."

You don't know any gay people?  Once again.  Los Angeles.  I'm practically TRIPPING OVER GAY PEOPLE and you don't know ANY?  Who are you?  I'd say nearly a quarter of my friends are gay.  I pictured a few years down the line with this guy and attending a gay friend's wedding, and it wasn't looking pretty. 

I did end up taking him to the Halloween party since he promised not to wear his "makeup" and because I didn't want the drama of disinviting him when I can just slowly phase out seeing him and answering texts.  The whole day before the party, I was so excited about my costume, but so dreading the party.  I didn't want to have to babysit him, or really hang out with him at all.  Luckily he didn't follow me around like a puppy so I was able to get away and have conversations with other people (ironically most of the party was either non-white or gay, with me and only a couple of others as the white folk).

I could also go into how he couldn't really have a real conversation, his jokes weren't funny, and he couldn't handle 5 seconds of silence and therefore would insert said unfunny jokes into any time I wasn't speaking, but I'm so horrified by the above incident that I can barely focus on that.  I'm so horrified I couldn't even make this post funny.  Also he's not on Facebook.  Like has NEVER had an account.  Obviously some people (me...) like it more than others, but someone my own age who has never ever had an account?  I find that a little odd.  At least that means I can post this without any repercussions though :)

Monday, October 14, 2013


I saw an article the other day with the same title, and it got me thinking.  While that author was more concerned with the "I need money, I don't care what job I get right now" thing, here's what I'd like to write:

To whom it may concern:

I'm interested in *Position X* that you posted on your website.  Let me start by saying I'm qualified - your position does not require years of experience, math skills, a degree in science or technology, nor does it require me to make cold calls or sell things to people who might not want them.  I'm not overqualified or underqualified.  You're probably a little put off by my law degree, confused as to what I'm looking to do or how much I want you to shell out for a salary.  Don't worry, I made less as an attorney than I likely will in your industry, and I would hope that the fact that I'm getting an ENTIRELY NEW DEGREE would show you that I'm not going to just up and leave you when a law firm hires me.

Here's the problem - I can't write you the fanciest, fakest, bullshitty cover letter about how this is my dream job and I will cover your office in stars and happiness and change the path of the company as a whole.  The truth is, I don't know what my dream job is.  I know what interests me from my classes, but that hardly translates to whether or not I will like a particular job or not (as evidenced by my awful internship in Hong Kong, despite my interest and enjoyment of my corporate PR class). 

Here's the real story - if I'm applying to this job, I'm interested in it.  The job description seems like something I would enjoy and excel at, yet I can't provide you with an emotional story depicting why this job and I are a perfect match.  Internships, as I have found, are trial and error.  I won't know if I like your internship or this particular part of PR unless you give me a chance and let me try it out.  I'm not supposed to admit this, but I'm experimenting.  I'm trying things out that might be a match so that I can find what IS a match for me.  I'm not being flaky or just applying so I can have something on my resume - if that was the case I'd also be applying to those jobs that are titled "Social Media Intern" or "Event Planning."  I'm not - I'm applying to jobs similar to this one.

Here's what you will get out of me:  I have an undergraduate degree in advertising, the aforementioned law degree, and 3/4ths of a masters in public relations.  I have five years of experience in one of the MOST professional of all professions - law - so you're not getting a giggly 23-year-old who hasn't been in the real world.  I get shit done, I do it well, and I do it efficiently.  I have the logical thinking required to offer suggestions if I think something might be improved.  I'm able to convince pretty much anyone of anything, which should be of interest to you since your clients might need a little persuasive push on occasion.  I have public speaking down to a science, and a room full of CEOs is actually less terrifying than a judge, jury and an undetermined number of felons.

No, I haven't had particular experience with certain things, but I'm a student.  I'm seeking an internship.  Internships are where you get that experience, and I can't get experience without someone taking a chance on me and hiring me as an intern. 

So what is my passion, you ask?  Sadly my passions aren't in areas where I'm able to get jobs.  Remember the aforementioned lack of math skills and engineering degree?  Yeah.  My passion is architecture and design.  My passion is in learning for the sake of learning.  I love science, psychology, and creating things, whether it be art, IKEA furniture, or a new idea for a product.  I'm stuck in a world where interests and abilities don't collide, so I have to find a place where I can at least become close to a compromise between them.

If you hire me, you'll get someone who does the work, has good ideas, interacts professionally with her coworkers, and maybe, just maybe, someone who realizes this job actually IS her passion.  But you won't know if you don't give ME a chance, just like I won't find my passion if I don't give your company a chance.

So please, for the love of god, hire me. 



Wednesday, October 2, 2013


Dear iPhone Thief -

First off, I'd like to congratulate you on getting away with my 2 year old iPhone 4s.  That phone will sell for big bucks on the black market, I assure you.  Sorry you didn't get the earbuds too, but hey, I had to keep a souvenir.  However, I'm a tad bit pissed off that you got my brand new phone cover.  I'd had it for two days.  TWO DAYS DUDE.  I special ordered it because it was SO AWESOME you couldn't get it at any old store.  I mean, have you ever seen a phone cover with a space cat shooting laser beams out its eyes?  Me neither, until I bought the one you stole.  I mean, it had a CAT WITH MOTHERFUCKING LASER BEAMS SHOOTING OUT ITS EYES.  IN SPACE.  GodDAMN you.

But I digress.  What was your plan exactly anyway?  Did you assume I'd just be so shocked I would stand there like a statue while you ran into the nice neighborhood to hide?  I mean, there was one of you, and you're not very big.  Did you have a getaway car up that hill?  I'm going to assume you did, because stealing something on foot with no way out is really fucking stupid.  Yet I saw no car waiting for you anywhere NEAR where you were going - did you just freak out and get lost?  If you're going to rob somebody, you'd probably better not be of the freaking out sort.

I know why you picked me - I'm blonde, I was walking (not running), and in real life I don't look like the crazy bitch that lurks inside of me.  I look younger than I am and am not very big.  I was wearing my glasses.  That automatically put me in the wuss category working out with glasses on.  Easy peasy right?  Just run up behind this chick, grab the phone out of her hand, and run to some apparently undetermined location (I stress again, bad plan) with the awesomely obsolete phone you stole.

Thank you for picking me.  No, really.  I mean, this was a new experience for me.  I've never been a crime victim before, I'm just used to putting little punk-ass shits like you in prison, hiding behind the power of a badge I no longer carry.  No one can really say how they'd react if something like this happened to them, and, despite my background, I honestly didn't know either.  Thank you for picking me because I learned that my instinct is to be a GIANT BADASS and come at you like a fucking monster truck.  COME AT ME BRO.

In my intense state of rage as I ran after you as fast as I physically could, the most satisfying thing I saw was the fear in your eyes.  The complete and utter lack of preparation for the fact that someone like me would fight back and your panic as you tried to figure out the next phase of your plan.  I can still see it, the "HOLY SHIT, BITCH BE CRAZY" look in your eyes.  If my eyes could adequately convey my feelings (which I'm not sure they can, so this is conjecture), you could've seen that if I caught up to you, you would be in a WORLD OF PAIN.  People can pick up cars with adrenaline - I could beat your skinny teen ass like a goddamned yeti with the adrenaline I had that day.

Consider yourself lucky.  You're lucky because I'm in pretty pathetic shape right now, strength- and endurance-wise.  You're lucky that I have asthma because the only reason I stopped running was because I physically could not put air in my lungs.  And you're lucky because I'm a clumsy fuck who, when faced with a 3-block sprint in my condition, pretty much tripped over my own feet as my body gave out.

So while you sit at home enjoying my old phone, I get to sit here enjoying my brand new iPhone 5, which literally became $99 TODAY because you robbed me 2 days before my contract gave me the maximum discount.  You won't get $99 out of my phone.  Maybe that fucking awesome case, but not the phone.

And while you plot your next poorly-planned robbery attempt, I'll be running.  I'll be running in my new running shoes that I will have fitted especially for me.  Not running to get fit, like every time I've tried before.  Running for a purpose.  Running to know that I can catch your punk ass if this were to ever happen again.  Running to match the body to the badass living in my brain.

Maybe my actions shocked you enough that you'll think twice about who you try to victimize.  Now every woman you see could potentially be as crazy as I am and chase your ass down.  Second thoughts now?  I hope that when you think of me, you remember fear.  I hope you're embarrassed by how close you came to getting caught and beaten on by a girl.

And most of all, I hope you REALLY FUCKING ENJOY MY LASER CAT COVER and appreciate that that is a PRICELESS GEM you happened upon when stealing a phone you hoped would be an iPhone 5.  Dick.

Go fuck yourself,

Your Eternal Nemisis