That's it! I've had it! I'm moving to Nepal.

Ok, so I'm not moving to Nepal. But I'll tell you all something, there are moments the idea is tempting.

The only problem with moving to Nepal? It'd be tough to find a wireless signal. And I'm pretty sure that I couldn't afford airfare right now. (...Note to self: Check into pricing on one-way ticket to Nepal.)

The fact is that I am struggling to make heads or tails of my life at the moment. The fact is that I am a college-educated, reasonably attractive girl, (Stop giggling! I can be cute if I try!) and I've got what can only be described as 'OODLES of personality.' Apparently that and a dollar seventy-five will get me a ride on the el. Because I know it's not enough to get a bartending job in this crazy town.

So I decided to make myself a little more marketable by going to bartending school. I figured it would help to actually know how to make some of those crazy drinks, and at least look like I know what's going on behind the bar. That hasn't seemed to help either.

In my quest to get a bartending job (insert "in the last week" when reading "quest") I have applied at 18 different bars/restaurants (ALL of which placed ads seeking bartenders!) ...And do you want to know the result?

NADA.

NOTHING.

ZIP.

ZILCH.

NIL.

ZERO.

Well... I did get a "trial position" at Reza's on Clark, but that bitch wants me to wait tables hawking Persian food instead of pouring drinks. You know what I say to that? FUCK THAT! I didn't spend an ass-load of money on a college education to wait tables. And I didn't spend money on bartending school to wait tables.

The fact is that I know that bartenders in this town make a killing, so that's why I spent the money on bartending school. Well, that, and I know I'd be fucking brilliant at it.

How do I know this? I know this because in addition to the 30 or so people who have repeatedly told me that I would be an incredible bartender, alcohol is in my DNA!

And no, I'm not merely referring to the negligible amount that is presently coursing through my veins as I sit here, drinking as I type, feeling sorry for myself.

I'm referring to the fact that my dad, who has since been unsuccessful in other businiess endeavours used to own a liquor store. (We had a kegerator/tap system in my basement when I was a little kid!) My brother is a bartender. I got into bartending school cheap because I know people who operate bartending schools... etc.

So, despite the fact that I know what the fuck I'm doing behind a bar, I graduated at the top of my bartending school class, bartending being something I was born to do, and a track record for being a reliable, selfless, and honest employee, and having the right personality for the job, I am apparently only fit to waitress.

BULLSHIT!

Fuck it!

LOOK OUT, NEPAL! HERE I COME!