Sunday, September 16, 2007

Sunday Top Ten: We Don't Know So We Wait for Tomorrow

You'd think "dream jobs" woulda been an easier topic, but maybe it's something I've never truly thought about, not specifically, like B2 does here, and how Rob does in High Fidelity when he makes his "Top 5 Dream Jobs" list. [Coincidentally, many of my ex-boyfriends declared a perceived unique affinity to the character of Rob when that movie came out. He's very rumply-haired, obsessive, emo and dissatisfied and likes making mix tapes, so that's something.] [???] So the idea of "dream job" is that when you get there; that's where you've wanted to be, and then, at last, you relax. Your life is in stasis.

And what's dawned on my monkey-mind lately is that a future prospect of relaxation/contentment is precisely what motivates us into anxiety, which is semi-hilarious -- people disguised as robots, robots disguised as people -- just as the concept of a settlement is what inspires and propels the argument. So we run around like maniacs in order to one day stop running? Human beings are retarded. Clearly we don't want to relax that much, otherwise we'd be doing it, right? Or not? This paragraph had a point when I wrote it last night, and I'm not sure what that point is anymore. I'm leaving it in in case it occurs to me later.

I never thought I'd be able to do what I wanted to do in life by getting up and going to a job every day so maybe I never thought about what that Dream Job might be? [I've also been consistently aware that I'm somewhat limited by fibromyalgia and what hours I can manage and still keep that under control, etc., but that's another blog entry -- like a really boring one, actually.] Anyhow, I just imagined always waitressing or temping or dealing crack to supplement writing until my first book deal or television development contract. Luckily, I sort of love waitressing a little, even though I'm bad at it, I'd totes waitress right now if anyone would hire me. [Waitressing became intoxicating, almost; its unpredictability, though it provided for a certain risk of complete poverty, also implied the possibility of jackpot treasure striking at any moment. Though it wasn't likely you'd make $200 on a Friday night ... it also wasn't impossible, which meant you could plan ahead allowing the chance of improbable good fortune. Also, I loved the exhaustion. I loved running around all night like my life depended on it, like if Table 59 didn't get their Bruschetta before their Pasta Milanos, a great cloud would open above us and G-d would strike us all with lightning bolts. Which it would, in the form of douchetards. A million small, achievable tasks.]

I look back on my whole life before now and I'm amazed I've gone this long without a steady "job," considering I went out and applied for jobs as soon as I was old enough to legally work (age 14, but you can't use knives until you're 15), even ultimately foregoing extracurricular activities (soccer, theater) in favor of closing Dana's Deli every night, and foregoing an active social life all through college in order to waitress. I loathed, all my life, the idea of not having a regular job for even one day, let alone so many months. If I'd've told myself in March that I'd be, right now, without a steady reliable place to BE and reap income for at least 20 hours a week (outside of my apartment), I'd be like "Wha?!!! What's going to happen, Psychic Weirdo?" Actually, there are at least 500 things that Riese-in-March wouldn't've believed about her future. No, probs like, 1,000. Most of all I never thought I'd have bangs, obvs.

Sooo ... in High Fidelity, this is Rob's Top Five Dream Jobs List:

1. Journalist for Rolling Stone magazine, 1976 to 1979
2. Producer, Atlantic Records, 1964 to 1971
3. Any kind of musician, besides classical or rap
4. Film director, any kind except German or silent
5. Architect (seven years training)

Laura reads his list. This conversation happens:
Laura: So you've got a list here of five things you would do if qualifications and time and history and salary were no object?
Rob: Yeah.
Laura: -- and one of them you don't really wanna do anyway.
Rob: Well, I did put it at number five.
Laura: Wouldn't you rather own your own record store than be an architect?
Rob: Yeah, I suppose.
Laura: And you wouldn't wanna be a 16th century explorer or the King of France--
Rob: God no.
Laura: Well, there you go then. Dream job number five. Record store owner.
And here's the thing: he totes IS a record store owner. Get it?

I had to scour the archives to ensure I'd not written on this before; a recent archive look-through (I can't remember why) made me aware of the fact that I repeat myself LIKE WHOA. I mean, seriously, clearly the side-effect of my EPIC output is that I don't remember what I've said and not said, and therefore I'm liable to post the exact same Sunday Top Ten more or less twice. I could save a lot of time with cutting and pasting, obvs.

"If time, history, salary, and qualifications were no object."
(Also, requires attendance, as in, no freelance hoo-ha, like totes "be here, this time, etc." kind of situation. To be a "job.")

12. A Staff Writer/Editor/Whathaveyou for one of the following publications:
Vanity Fair (1919-1924), Sassy Magazine (1990-1993)
Rolling Stone Magazine (1970s), Mademoiselle Magazine (1950s-60s)
The New York Review of Books (1963-1979), JANE Magazine (1995-2000)
Ms. Magazine (1972-1980), McSweeny's (2000-2002), New York Magazine, (2001->3/2007)
MIGHT magazine (1995-1997), Spy Magazine (1986-1996),
The New Yorker (1992-1998), The Paris Review (1953-1983)
Vogue (1963-1971), ElleGirl (2005-2006),
Curve (present), Bitch (present), Bust (present), Radar (present)

11. Super Hip Bartender in Fictional Location/Someplace Hip 'n Fit in the 70s
Most actual bartenders hate their jobs; something about having to cut a lot of fruit early in the morning. Or maybe that was just my bartender friends at The Olive Garden and the Mac Shack, 'cause we sold so many drinks requiring fruit garnishes. Anyhow, in the movies, this always looks like a good way to meet cute girls and make wads of cash and be overall very cool, and also be frequently drunk for free. Mostly I wanna dance around on the bar to that remix of "Can't Stop the Moonlight" or do tricks involving glass cutting through air, the subsequent pour of burning liquid ... and the few times I've bartended -- filling in -- I've liked the speed, the potency of what you have to offer, the ability to hook people up most of all. It feels like you're the Goddess of Loose Inhibitions, which is not a bad thing to be supervising.

Had a bad day, as bad as they come.
Time to get a real job, you gotta stop having fun.
So I, so I got a real job, I'm working nine to nine.
I'm making five bucks an hour till the day I die.

10. Schoolteacher
This's actually something I truly would want to be if it didn't require a degree and waking up at 6 A.M. I wanted to do Teach for America until I saw a friend enter the program idealistic and bright-eyed and exit on anti-anxiety medications and a persistent case of influenza. I want to teach kids about books. If you read Savage Inequalities and don't want to be a teacher, then you have no soul, sorz. I probs'll be a writing teacher one day, ideally as good as the ones I've had, or that dude in "My So-Called Life" who started The Liberty Lit, because that's what you do after you've published a book and no one will hire you to do anything else because they don't realise you're not about to 'take off' [this's happening to me already, and it's super-annoying, it's like this weird in-between place where you become totally unemployable and unemployed], and you can teach Uni or private school w/o a teaching degree, I think.

I'm one third passion, and I'm two thirds pride.
I said I used to have a life once,
He said, "I used to like your smile once."

9. Travel Writer

I would like to be sent all over the world for free and given all the nicest things, like footrubs, free bathrobes and fruity non-caloric cocktails. Also I'd climb mountains. I'd like to be like Pam Houston. I just want someone to pay me to have fun and get drunk is that too much to ask? On that topic, Curve magazine, the home of Stacey Merkin, has asked me to do a piece about a trip I already went on (the r-family cruise), which means I've got one foot into -- OR, RATHER -- OUT OF -- of the proverbial door, yeah? Totes. Wait. Does this count as someplace you have to go to every day, according to my rules? Huh. Yeah, probs. I have to go to like, BALI every day. "Go to Disneyworld!" Okay. Will do.

8. Basketball Player
First of all, I'd be in really good shape. Second of all, basketball is fun, and third of all, it would be a good way to meet girls. Or maybe it wouldn't be. My Mom used to go to a lot of WNBA games with her buddies. I don't really know what to say about that.

"I got a picture of the way the world has summed me up.
If I could have one wish, I sure wish that I had never grown up.
I got a picture of the way I looked when I was three.
I came out laughing, screaming, dancing."
-Tegan & Sara, "More For Me"

Okay, I'm sure there are at least 100 more dream jobs. I seem to have more thoughts ABOUT dream jobs than I do actual dream jobs. I'll finish this later this week. I just thought of one. Oh, it's funny! [Imagine Stewie saying that] Saving it. Oh man, I just had a lot of good thoughts about it too. Also saving them. I will be happy I stored up all these thoughts later this week when I realise I still haven't written that story for the reading. Erk.

The protagonist of our teevee show, Morgan, is cited in the character descriptions as "struggling with ambition and inertia." I guess we write what we know.

This, after all, is what I know; this blog, my body which never learns, my friends, my books and my hat and my ipod and my bag and my favorite jeans and Chuck Taylors, this cruel expensive city, the muscle in my chest that once composed a relatively intact heart and has, in the past six months, been hollowed out and beat up and doesn't know how to put itself back together anymore, because it was such a scotch-taped and rubber-cemented deal to begin with, and has been for over a decade ... my fingers, this keyboard, my mean crazy neighborhood which never stops screaming, my roof and it's respite, my inbox, how hugs work, sleeping, the hours, the hours, the hours ...

I can say I want to be a rockstar, I mean, who doesn't want to be a rock star? I don't know, what is my dream job? What is my dream? What do I want? I know: I'll figure it out, right? I've got time, yeah? Not really, though.

The problem is, I've been the girl that knows what she wants, or at least acts like she does, pretty much my whole life. Now I don't even recognise myself, because so much changed on someone else's volition, so many choices were made FOR me, and I can't seem to UN-do them. I keep trying to work it out in language, hoping that'll translate to life soon enough. I'm certain something's off but don't know where to begin, and by "where" I mean "if."

I've had a series of "big pictures" -- huge all-consuming projects -- Conde Nast, [redacted] magazine article, totes mad twatwaffle, teevee show ... Right now we're in a waiting period, so to speak, on the teevee show -- so this week, for the first time pretty much all year, I've actually had to think about what like, MY big picture is. Two days after the story I told in "1" on the "SomeDay Top Ten," I declared I didn't want to write anymore I just wanted to work at Big Boy's, which even though I later decided was retarded, was still quite a shakedown for my mind ...

... maybe the reason I find it so unique and revolutionary every time I come to the revelation that I don't know what I want, which turns out to be something I've discussed at length in all journals, live, blogged, and otherwise, for years, when I actually look into it -- is because it's at odds with who I believe myself to be, essentially. So the rest of it is such a phase I forget about it even only days after it's concluded.

When it comes to this stuff, I'm a goldfish.

Anywhere else on earth is a good place to figure out these things; New York isn't so much. Because everything's so expensive. The air is urgent, like if you don't suck it all in right this moment, it could evaporate, and you'll be left unable to breathe.
There's a part in "Muppet Babies" when they're facing a bunch of doors
and don't know which one to enter.

Gonzo says he can take care of it: "I know this place like I know the back of my hand."
Gonzo chooses the door and they end up being lead into something awful,
probs an outer-space abyss of some sort,
a monster, something, I don't remember if they went in or just looked at it,
it doesn't really matter,
and Gonzo adds: "I guess I don't know the back of my hand very well."

(Gonzo's dream job: Professional bowler.)

(our stolen bowling shoes, high school graduation)


red said...

you keep saying all these things i'm thinking... and you know what, it makes me think maybe we're not as alone as we think we are.

frank said...

your sunday top 10s keep coming after long sundays where i'm tired. however, i did the skim-for-lozo function (disappointed again) and here's what i'll give you for now.

1. glad to see you have a monkey brain to go with your monkey arms.

2. i feel semi-insipirational in this post.

3. i think it's a sad commentary on my life that i identify with what i've read. or maybe it's just sad that i identify with job sadness and muppet babies.

4. the schoolteacher pic made me lol.

5. whose ass is that in the ass photo? it's quite an ass.

6. i have Sunglasses Face right now, and it's starting to burn.

good night.

Anonymous said...

I love that you wrote this BEAUTIFUL effing post, Riese, just gorgeous and obvs the things that we were talking about the other night, more compact, more pristine...and in that, Lozo asks about Lo's ass.

You have the gift of consistency, Lozo. Ha.

Also, last night at LES MIS...we were randomly talking about "muppey babies," telling one of the dressers to get it on DVD, if such a magical thing exists, for her children, and impromptu, during a quick change, I began to sing the theme song...and, like, EVERYONE KNEW IT!!!

"Muppet babies - we'll make our dreams come true -
Muppet babies will do the same for you!
When your room looks kinda weird and you wish that you weren't there, just close your eyes and make believe, and you can be anywhere!"

Anonymous said...

I meant "muppet babies," obvs...

And the magically delicious part of this was that YOU HADN'T YET POSTED THIS.

Same book, same page, same paragraph -- MLB and HPS.

frank said...

haviland, i am the bran muffin of your life.

Jo said...

High Fidelity is a great movie.

I don't know what my dream job is, but I do know what my nightmare job is: anything which requires me to sit in a cubicle doing paperwork all day, and basically anything resembling the recent temp jobs you have described.

The first 2 paragraphs are totes deep.

I like this whole posting of part of Sunday Top Ten on Sunday, and then finishing it later. It justifies my constant checking of Google Reader.

riese said...

The amount of time it's taken for my macbook to load the comment page, which's a long time as I like to run 5000 applications at a time and I am still laughing at "haviland, i am the bran muffin of your life."


red: I think you are right about that. That's what I've learned, we're totes not near alone as we think we are.


lozo: that's Lo, I think I used another photo from that same shoot in an earlier post and the plethora of compliments on her ass poured in and she gave an acceptance speech in the comment section that made me LOL a whole lot, more than the bran muffin thing. Seriously, totes brill.
It is quite an ass.

And yes, you are semi-inspirational in this post.

Job sadness, muppet babies, and, speaking of ...



It is quite an ass, it's been noted.

And I know, right? Super-semi inspirational, our convo the other night, re: this. I think that's when I started to verbalise it ... this's like "the thought process of riese" thing right now. Hm. You have witnessed it, my little lamb.

That song is stuck in my head now, wheeee .. mupppet babiessss

Ready for the next chapter hands down totes,

riese said...

jo: anything to justify constant checking of google reader. don't think I've checked mine all day I wonder if I've updated! Twice! I like it cuz it makes me feel more productive blog-wise.

I know, I think I'm not as deep right now as I was when I wrote this post. I will understand soon enough I think maybe.

I think I'd like that kind of job as long as I could be online all day doing things I needed to do. Actually, hm, maybe that'd be a dream job I should write down, as long as it doesn't involve aforementioned activities, the ones you said. hm.

DH said...

Great post, really, and right on re: the settlement inspiring and propelling the argument, it's strange, huh.

I thought I had completely resigned from the 'dream job' search, you know, given where I've landed. Until today, when I decided I'd like to become a therapist. Even better, AdSense thinks I could get that degree online.

stef said...

i am sitting here on a sunday night, dreading going into work tomorrow because i know for a fact that the two people in my office i consider my only allies are to be FIRED tomorrow (really, the three of us have been referring to ourselves as 'team fired' since like june - it's been that inevitable). i'm considering wtf i am going to do if the cons of this job start outweighing the pros without them (which they inevitably will) and whether or not i have it in me to suck it up, find some discipline and look for something else and if so WHAT. this post was disturbingly timely.

except i don't want to be a schoolteacher. i hate responsibility and structure. this is a problem. bartending though - it always looks like the best job ever. i think i need better people skills..

i want to say this kind of job-directional angst is generational, like maybe i read an article on it once and we're all having it and it's not really our failure but our parents'? i'm probably wrong, but i'll happily blame them.

lozo, you are amazing.

Anonymous said...

I always wanted to be a school teacher when i was in school, I liked the hours and idea of still getting school holidays off, then I realised I wouldnt want to deal with kids like me every day.

When asked what I want to do I always sway I want to do somhing I'm going to love, but what that actually would be I dont know.

I'd like to be a photographer, just taking pictures all day, everyday would be awesome, but then the weight of expectation comes down on me. I think people expect more than that, they expect me to get that job that requires a degree, a job that pays well, a "proper" job.

Why cant I just be a student my whole life, little responsibilty, very few worries, a great social life and the part time job that is actually quite enjoyable.

lawlaws said...

My dream jobs have always been head in the clouds stupid.

1. Singer in a band
2. Drummer in a band
3. Guitar player in a band
4. Monkey trainer
5. Record store owner (thank you Empire Records)
6. Kick Ass Advertising guru
7. Trend setting Graphic Designer
8. Tv Presenter (Music or Kids)

Stupid thing is, if I actually applied myself 100% and never rested, I could do all of the above (apart from Monkey Trainer - I have no biological knowledge of anything).

Recently however I've realised my job is pretty cool. My friends even envy my job. I wear whatever I want (today it's a Hooters t-shirt), I sit in front of a mac all day, and I get paid enough to get by. Plus I get asked to do fabulous design outside of work.

On another note completely.

I always wanted to have a house which had the window chair thing that was in the Muppet Babies. The Muppet Babies house would be my perfect house EVER.

I always wanted to know what the nanny's face looked like too. I remember a competition on tv when I was teeny to draw what you thought her face looked like. Some kid's interpretations of what a caregiver should look like were frankly horrifying.

Anonymous said...

i think work and jobs are over-rated, i seriously worry about people who love their jobs. especially people that have to go and sit in an office and like be a real adult all day, and talk about it like it's the best thing ever. i think they are just trying to convince themselves that they like it and really want to kill themselves. that's what i tell myself anyway.

i loved muppet babies, but the legs of the nanny always scared me, i was worried she was going to step on fozzie.. he was my favorite

Jessica Ferri said...

i'm sorry, i was all into your post, silently agreeing with all your ideal job ideas, when i was suddenly struck down by that photo of you(?) and your gf (?) in your undies? and high heels? i can't focus on anything now. what was this post about? i don't even know.

Anonymous said...

I hate my job. I have no clue what I want to do, but I’ve been trying to figure it out for some time now. What I do know is that I spent the best years of my life to date working at Hooters, so I am going back. I came to this conclusion at court last Thursday when the cop at the front door leapt/fell from his chair when I walked in. He preceded to tell me his family tried to go in a few times after I quit and eventually just stopped going because it wasn’t the same. I miss interacting with people and it feels great to know I am missed.
Also I am done stressing about what I am going to do with the rest of my life.
I want instant gratification. I want to be happy now!

I should also note that this job is at odds with everything I believe myself to be, so maybe this is just a phase. Who knows?

The Brooklyn Boy said...

Yay follow through. Good look on the linkback. I might could roll with "B2," ha. More later when I have time to process.

riese said...

Crystal: AdSense still thinks I could be Johnny Depp. I don't know what that means for my future.


Stef: I blame 'Reality Bites.' I hate structure, too. Lets open our own bar where no one has to talk to each other until they're all blasted. Good luck at work today ... :-/ I like "team fired." it's a variation on one of my favorite teams, 'Team Totally Fucked."


Dewey: I liked being a student too. Every day you're one step closer to something (a degree), and you can have a shitty part time job and not feel guilty over it, like you should be doing something proper.


lawlaws: You could be my unpaid intern, I think it has a very similar job outline to "monkey trainer." I think your job is pretty cool too, as it enables you to do fabulous design outside of work for hpsdiva! Today is Hooters reference day, P.S.


cait: Coincidentally that's what I tell myself as well. The legs of the nanny scared me too. I have Nanny tights. Like green and white striped ones? I think what I liked about it was how vividly they imagined.


Snobber: Oh, that's me and Lo ... we had matching underwear they were hot. Once upon a time, we had an apartment in Williamsburg, which was also hot. That photo's from last year, it's the shoot that just keeps on giving. I think this post could be summed up by the fact that that photo was the only one I could find on my computer that I considered applicable to the topic of "jobs" since the theme is like, "at work" with our phones and newspapers and such.


Tess: I would always reccommend quitting your job if you hate it. have this theory that most waitressing jobs are a lot like Hooters, they just claim not to be. I guess at least Hooters is honest?

"... the most valuable lesson I'd learned was that the act of waiting itself is an active one. The period of time between the anticipation and the beginning of life's events is when everything really happens -- the time when actual living occurs. I'd spent so much time worrying about the outcome of my life that I'd forgotten how to live it. I'd also come to know that not everything was fraught with vast and complicated meaning. Sometimes it was only about timing that order just right, recommending a particularly good dessert, or making a friend out of a stranger at my table. I began to see not only the simplicity of these acts but also their beauty." (Debra Ginsberg, Waiting: The True Confessions of a waitress.)

carlytron said...

I loved that remix of "Can't Fight the Moonlight."

I loved the crap out of "Muppet Babies" as a kid and always identified most as Gonzo. I keep trying to relive the glory of my grammar school years by convincing my friends to dress as Muppets for Halloween every year (I was Gonzo once as a kid, obvs) but none of us have enough time or skill to craft costumes out of felt.

My dream jobs growing up were: ice cream man, stand up comedian (my basis for this was Fozzie, which isn't really aiming very high when you think about it), architect, lawyer, and person-who-blows-stuff-up-the-special-FX-department for movies.

Now I just want to be a rock star/TV producer/DJ/designer/all-around-fabulous person. Easy, right?

frank said...

hey, so i just read-read this. did you have that gonzo/bowling thing in here already? or did you watch that episode and then put it in? because if it was in here before, i didn't know.

also, the use of "sorz" and "probs'll" in a three-word span made me pass out for a quick second.

as for jobs, yeah, i'm the wrong guy to comment on that right now.

Diana said...

Wait, so everything is NOT fraught with vast and complicated meaning? Huh.

You know, i keep thinking, and often exclaim, about this whole work thing, that if i could just come up with one brilliant (moneymaking) idea/invention i'd be set. For life. I am 98% kidding when I say this but hold out 2% for belief/hope that this could actually happen. I particularly like to say it to smart people in hopes that I can profit from their intellect. "We just need an idea!"

The whole concept of who we believe ourselves to be, who we actually are, and who others perceive us to be is super interesting and I spend (waste) a lot of time pondering this. Like, where do the identities merge, overlap, which is the truest, etc.

Anonymous said...

"I keep trying to work it out in language, hoping that'll translate to life soon enough."

That's the best way.

Mercury said...

I made myself this list the other day when I was like "I am sick. I am so sick. I don't want to go back to school today. I don't want to go back to school EVER. I think I'll call them and tell them I quit. How would that go? me: cindy, I quit. Cindy: you what? me: i quit. her: oh. why? me: cause. her: *indescribable expression that can only be called a Cindy-face*" And then I was like, "But what would I DO?" and then I was like, "I would sleep all the time" and then I was like "That sounds good actually" and hten I was like "But after that, seriously, what would I DO?" so I made a list.

1. Become a barista. This probably means being at work at like 5 am but also means constant access to coffee. also, I'd just stay up all night, obviously. I'd think of it as the latest part of the 'night shift'.

2. Become an auto mechanic. I looked at the guts of a car once and it seemed really interesting. If someone wanted to teach me more about that, I'd be right there.

3. Become a chef. I could go to like the Culinary Institute of Seattle. I'd just have to figure out how to move to Seattle.

4. Become a locksmith. Because...

5. Become a helicopter pilot. Too bad you need like 2000 hours to actually do anything and it costs like $650/hour to actually use a helicopter. That's like 60,0000 investment in your education. I didn't do the math, someone else did.

Then I went back to sleep and woke up and went to school. So I don't know.

word ver is "mbsot". Which made me think of IAA, I mean, wasn't one of the dorms called MB? but what did it stand for? adn then I realized Marie Bernard is mb. So then you're a sot. Blogger says.

Anonymous said...

Normally, I refuse to comment on a blog with so few pictures of me. However, this entry compelled me to write in with my $.02 of wisdom.

I am one of those sick freaks who actually enjoy their job - and I work at a corporate law firm. Honestly, what's not to like? I get paid for sitting around and reading your blogtastic word vomit, people. And when I'm not doing that, I'm telling interns what to do. And when the interns quit, I hire sexy new ones with an intense desire for upward mobility in the workplace - at any price.

When the interns are busy, I sometimes have to apply my skill set - which is absolutely fine with me, because whatever I produce is so far superior to the product the interns produce, that I am as a result publicly exalted and glorified by my superiors. (The reason being that our interns are seniors in college, whereas I graduated a few months ago. You'd be surprised at how much a sheepskin can elevate your perceived status in the working world.)

But wait. While it's all well and good to have a job that's seemingly not so bad, I haven't yet called into account the opportunity costs and externalities that result from spending all of my free time locked into an office cube. However, I find none. The excessive amount of typing and mouse maneuvering have strengthened my wrists and fingers to the point where it has seriously revolutionized my sexual abilities. The strain on my eyes has resulted in the acquisition of employer-comped color contact lenses. The hours spent "working" would otherwise be spent consuming expensive substances and purchasing expensive ladies of the night. And when I work late, they give me a steak dinner and a towncar to chauffeur me home.

Dream job: dismantling meth labs in the deep Midwest

Since I am at work, I am sincerely yours,

Not Vicky

Anonymous said...

Also, I'd like to leave an angry warning about posting explicit links - but then again, what did I expect to pop up when I clicked on "Reading of Best of the Best Erotic Incest Tales" or whatever.

-Also Not Vicky

riese said...

prologue: I am sick sick sick. Breathing like Darth Vader.


carlytron: You know I'm SO IN right? I want to be Animal, obvs. Wait, just reaslied Halloween is soon. Hm. Still. I want to be Animal, obvs.

I'd like to think that the TV producer idea is a ripe possibility that lurks just around the corner. Like it's pretty much ready to be like "what's up, here I am, ready for you to become all around fabulous."

I also was inspired by Fozzie. Ice cream man; always a classic. Like working at The Dairy queen.


Lozo: Totes put it in there the first time around. I'm glad you're back in your chair from passing out, that probs'll be useful a future sitch requiring more observant reading skills.


Diana: Oh, I do even better than that-- I actually execute those ideas up to like, the very last stage, and then I abandon them. My book would be a good example of this. But I realise I'm sort of banking on the prospect that one day things will become suddenly fantastic, instead of making any sort of effort towards actively building towards that goal constructively. I think that "which is the truest" thing is like, what I try to work out here. Maybe.


REC: I hope so.


Merc: I am sick. I am so sick. Being a barista would def. be a late-night job, I think it pays really poorly. auto-mechanism skills are vaulable skills. Those are the kinds of things no one ever taught me in school, instead I was reading poetry.

Instead of becoming a locksmith I'd recommend opening a few credit cards. They're good in a jam to get in the door.

I have an ex who got his pilots license, he said it cost a lot of money and he makes no money, but he sure do love the work.

I am a sot.

Not Vicky:

You don't want explicit links, but you do want more photos of yourself?

It sounds like you've got a sweet gig, clementine. Anyone who mentions pressing the "refresh" button while at work is a woman after my own job-seeking heart. One of my dream jobs, for the next post, includes long hours spent at a desk doing exactly what I do now but being paid to do something else. That sounds like what you do, except with eager interns, steak dinners (I don't eat red meat, but, this being a dream, I imagine there could be concessions made), a car to take me home, finger exercises and sexual tension.

One can only take so many ladies of the night.

As Ever,
Not Really Riese


caitlinmae said...

Stealing bowling shoes was like THE cool thing in my high school too. In hindsight, they're kind of fug, and the thought of nine billion other peoples' footnasties is less than appetizing.

Those are some tasty job choices. You should pull for a job as the official r-family cruise travel writer, as then you'd be paid to live on a cruise ship. Complimentary alcohol, complimentary food, complimentary babes.... What's not to like?

My housemates and I are deciding between going as "slutty disney princesses" for halloween and as the old standby white sheet ghosts, but with the Us Weekly twist of "who wore it better." We'll each wear the same white sheet and hold up a who wore it better sign. It has potential to be really wonderful or result in the four of us passing out in the quad wrapped in our sheets.

I hope that dream job teevee show becomes reality job: teevee show.

The Brooklyn Boy said...

Your second paragraph here "So we run around like maniacs in order to one day stop running?" is definitely a concept I've been wrestling with of late, and your line in the follow about just temping or waitressing until the big break totally struck a chord with me. Sportswriting is pretty conducive to that - you kinda bounce around for five or ten years until WHAM! Big time. I had no idea what the path would be, and it's pretty much played out ridiculous from the get go - Internship rejections followed by extensions, working for Barnes and Noble and a stepping stone job at the Hall. All over the place. And likely to remain so.

You picked relatable dream jobs. I've definitely mulled over teaching and bartending and traveling and playing basketball, too! Haha. That's why they're friggin' dream jobs - everyone wants 'em ... until faced with the realities of limitations and such. Then they still want them, just slightly less. I mean, who doesn't want to be a rockstar?

The goldfish line cracked me up. That was fucking pristine. Also, the urgency of NYC air is something I miss every second I'm away.

caitlinmae - Dear God, please go as slutty Disney princess for the good of every hetero male around you that night. However, if that's attention you'd rather avoid, go with option B. But yeah.

MoonKiller said...

I would kill to work for Rolling Stone in the 70s. Almost Famous to the max. God, I'd kill to just be alive in the 70s.

My sister and I used to do the Can't Fight The Moonlight dance this on our kitchen table but then we broke it. = [.

I wonder if you could go a whole post without using lyrics. Mind, I've used lyrics for every blog title bar two.

And I used to want to be a teacher but then I realised how much grief we give them and decided against it.

I've always been the one who knows what they want to be in life. I wanted to be a road sweeper when I was little. But now I just want to either work for NME or own a production company with my friend. The prostitution industry is always my back up plan. But at the end of the day I will most likely end up working in a bank.

Anonymous said...


oh, so there is this thing about the running and the jobs. remember how you go crazy when you don't run? (i do. i have missed three days and i feel like a crack addict.)

so wait, here, here is a part: happiness is not the same thing as contentment. if i were content i would stop moving, because i would be happy where i was. hunger and contentment, desire and contentment, drive/ambition/motion and contentment do not coexist.

i do not wish to be content. i do wish for a job that i would like to do every day. and i think i can probably find one. i seem to be pretty pleased with the treadmill on the daily, though i've been known to keep in motion in other ways.

logical? sane? dunno, don't care. happy in motion. that is us.

Anonymous said...

re: the letter: you're very welcome

i wanted to be an architect|designer in legoland, denmark. to be honest, i still want to. last week i also thought about becoming a musical performer but i'm not sure today. maybe it was just because i saw hairspray and was very impressed by those beautiful and terrible over-the-top costumes.

Unknown said...

You might want to narrow your basketball dream job to "forward (Jalen Rose) or guard (Chris Webber) for the University of Michigan Wolverines men's basketball team during 1990s." You know, just to ensure career success.

riese said...

caitlinmae: We had our like, after prom party thing at a bowling alley, thus our inspiration to steal. I think we just so rarely got a chance to actively misbehave at boarding school. ha. JK we got in trouble for everything.

I def prefer complementary babies.

That sounds like an amazing halloween costume.

I feel like the realities and limitations of rock stardom would be good for me maybe.

To the MAX. And defo cannot go w/o using lyrics, no way.
There's a lot of cases to be made for prostitution.

"happy in motion. that is us." = my new theme song.

I once did a whole project about LegoLand once, I was so obsessed with it. I'd also like to be a musical performer.

What happened to Jalen? Maybe I could just marry Chris Webber, I bet he'd give me manicures.

The Brooklyn Boy said...

Jalen's not playing as part of the Phoenix Suns bench. However, he has made upwards of 100 mil in his career, so he's doing aight for himself. For the record.

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