Monday, September 11, 2006

Add another piece to the shit heap... And a little bit about the fam...

I got home after my shitty day (see post below) I set to the task of nursing the blisters on my feet from compensating for that broken heel.

I checked my messages only to find out that I'd pissed off the person who had set up the inerview that I was late for, because she thought I had skipped it altogether...

I returned the call and apologized profusely to her voicemail.

I posted about my crappy day for you all to read.

I start talking to one of my dearest friends (and a loyal reader, though something of a lurker as far as commenting goes.)

I realize that I gave out the last copy of my resume to the folks in the second interview.

(I don't have a printer at home... It's 9PM. And I know that given the timing of my two tuesday interviews that I wouldn't have a chance to get anywhere to print off resumes in the morning.)

I also know that I don't have an active account on which to put money for printing purposes up on campus.

I grab the money I had set aside for laundry, I e-mail my resume to myself.

I scramble up to campus and cross my fingers that some good samaritan will allow me to give them money and use their card to print.

Luckily for me there was a dear sweet girl who allowed me to use her card. So I have resumes to give to these bitches the rest of the week.

I come home and talk to my mom.

While talking to mom, I figure out that one of my cousins is probably the next unabomber. He's an ODD duck. And the thing is, I knew he was weird even as a kid. I mean every kid has a kind of "weird" phase. Luckily almost all of us outgrow it. But even as a kid, I knew he was never going to outgrow this particular brand of odd.

Let me paint a picture for you, my dear reader.

He's an albino. (Literally.) And he lives in Florida. (Because when you're an albino living in the intense Florida sun is right where you want to be.) He's an engineering major. (No doubt learning to build the bombs that he will eventually mail to people from a cabin located deep in the remote Montana wilderness.) Are you starting to get a mental image of this? Now surround him with equally weird folks. They joke about "big pimpin" and they give each other wedgies. (You think I'm joking with that last bit... I'm not.)

Now while I know I have my own little eccentricities and peccadilloes, this cousin comes from what is BY FAR the most fucked up branch of my family tree. I have a feeling that one of these days I'm going to be on some A&E documentary about my cousin the serial killer or something... probably reading this post, showing that I predicted the events to come.

OHHHH, it'll happen. Mark my words!

I jokingly mentioned to my mom that maybe this is how I should go about getting a job. "Hi my cousin is likely the next Ted Bundy, or Unabomber... or something similar... You'll want to hire me, or I'll be giving him your info." Mom suggested that I spin that a little and mention it in the interview as a way to promote my own standing by saying "Hire me, and we can threaten the competition together!"

I don't really know where I was going with this, but I thought it was something worth mentioning. Was I wrong?

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