I’m about to resort to doing shameful things on street corners for money…

like starting a lemonade stand. Duh. What did you think I meant? Oh, ew. No! So you guys have already heard about how I hit rock bottom (slowly trying to work my way back up, thank you very much) & about how I have been looking for a new job (only one offer, part-time, making LESS than I am now…uh, no thanks).

We’re pretty broke, but I went on a rant yesterday about how I want to change my thinking & make the most of what we have now. That means, I’m going to try to stop stressing so freaking much about finding the perfect job & just go with the flow & maybe pursue other dreams (I majored in graphic design in school & have been waiting to land that grandiose job). Maybe I will save some money on hair dye as my hair will stop getting more & more gray.

In honor of this new change, I decided to do a post (& a list, yay!) of past jobs I’ve had to prove how crazy things have gotten in the past. I am not revealing the actual names of any of the places I’ve worked…because, well, that’s just unprofessional.

1. The fast food place. Reeked of raw chicken. ALL THE TIME. I did pretty much everything from working drive thru to the front line to some cooking. Was there for a year, left to go to college.

2. The steakhouse. I was a fill in hostess in between jobs. Stayed for 4 months before they went bankrupt & closed down.

3. The department store that had everything. I worked here on & off all throughout college. Originally I started as a sales associate on the floor in the children’s department, ended up being a receptionist. Was there a total of 3 years, left because I hated it & they pissed me off.

4. The magazine. Run by the college I went to, actually got to do graphic design work. SHOCK! Stayed for 2 years, then I graduated.

5. The internship. I got this straight out of college & actually moved halfway across the state to accept it. Did graphic design work (sort of)…then got fired 4 weeks in.

6. The photography studio. I actually liked this job at first, & it got me really interested in photography, but sucky management & a poor work environment caused me to leave 6 months in.

7. The dress shop. My current job. I’ve been there for almost a year and a half. I like it alright most days. I’m a receptionist & the people are really cool at the store I’m currently at, I just wish it were full-time.

There you have it. My sporadic work history. Now that that’s off my chest its time to go with the flow. We’ll see how long that lasts.

Peace.

BrennaG.

My mom got me out of jury duty like a boss.

As J-Bird & I were sitting in the floor in front of the couch the other day, he commented that he’d never been called for jury duty. Oh, I have, a few years ago. But, I got out of it. I commented nonchalantly. He laughed. You can’t just get out of jury duty. You’re such a liar.

You see, he does know me pretty well. He knows that I say crazy things all the time. This time, however, I was telling the truth. Back in college, I got the dreaded jury duty letter in the mail. I called my mom (of course, duh) to complain that I was wayyy too busy to do this whole jury duty thing, I had college to do.

Growing up, my mom was always the type of mom to write a note to get my brother & I out of everything. I know what you’re thinking: we should have taken on our own problems, my mom babied us (she did), whatever whatever, go ahead & cast your judgemental stares. Anyway, my mom asked me if I wanted her to write me a note to get out of jury duty. We laughed. We both knew she was joking, but only halfway. Then, we wondered if it would actually work.

I sent her the paper work & she wrote the note to the judge explaining that I was a very busy college student & would like to be excused from jury duty. A few days later, I received a letter in the mail telling me that I was excused. I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried.

As for J-Bird, I think I’ve convinced him that they think he’s dead. Whoever they are.

BrennaG.

A whore, a latina, a theater major, a black girl & a potentially gay guy all walk into a bar…

Oh, wait. Those are all my ex or current roommates. And there are more to come as soon as Nick moves out this summer. I decided to make you guys a list of all my past roommates (& the one current one) so you can see that I have about a 50/50 shot of getting a good roommate as my next one. You see, they haven’t all been bad. Believe it or not, I’ve actually liked a few of them. So, now, one of my favsies things, a list:

1. Dina, The Whore. I don’t normally call people mean names (ok, maybe I do), but I only call it as I see it. This chick was craycray. She was my roomie my freshman year of college. The first night in the dorms, she had let a few of her “friends” borrow her keys to come to our room to use her bed for sex…at 3 am. They stumbled in, sat on my bed (which was closest to the door) and nearly gave me a heart attack. I completely freaked out & told them to get out immediately. Other episodes include, but are not limited to: finding Dina a few doors down passed out missing her shoe, giving her endless advice on lingerie, & hearing all about the drama between boyfriend number 1 (in New York, at home) & boyfriend number 2 (in college).

2. Emilia, The Latina. Emilia moved in a mere week after Dina moved out. I didn’t know what to expect from her, but she seemed sooo much nicer than Dina I was super excited to see if we’d become friends. Thankfully, we did. In fact, we became very best friends. We went everywhere together, did everything together. We’d stay up late & gossip about boys (I was still very single & ready to mingle at the time & had my eyes set on my figure drawing model, but I’ll save that story for another blog post) & watching episodes of Sex & the City. When summer came, we went our separate ways, even crying as we said our goodbyes & unfortunately never really spoke again.

3. Melissa, The Black Girl. We lived together for a mere 2 weeks the beginning of my Sophomore year of college. I suppose I really was that bad to live with. We got along alright, hell, the night before she moved out she invited me out with pizza with her friends because my boyfriend & I had just broken up. The very next day, though, I came back from class & all her stuff was gone. Just like that. Never to be heard from again.

4. Naomi, The Theater Major. Thing is, I hate living alone, so once Melissa was gone I was on the hunt for a new roomie. 2 weeks after she’d moved out, a cool girl named Naomi came knocking at my door. She moved in the next day. Thing is, we were both artsy, so we had an understanding of each other, which was nice, but we never became good friends, which was also nice. We were just that terrific middle ground. We could go have lunch, then enjoy a quite evening in the dorm room together without feeling obligated to talk to one another. I lived with Naomi until I started dating J-Bird & moved in with him.

5. Nick, The Potentially Gay Guy. Here’s the thing. I poke fun of Nick a lot. Mostly because I do not like living with a roomie at this point in my life. I also just generally do not particularly like him. I mean, isn’t he too old for guy sleepovers at this point? And they’re always so loud. Also, just as a disclaimer, I do not actually think he is gay, nor do I have an issue with gay people. Just sayin’. He also parks his car in such a way that I can’t really get my car out because his car will not fit into his carport because of his foosball table. Yea, so there’s that. He never does his dishes & I’m pretty sure he’s gonna burn the house down one day trying to use the oven. We share the kitchen.

So, if I’m figuring this up right, the next roomie should be pretty top-notch, right? I don’t need a new freaking best friend forever. I need a decent human being that might want to have a board game night with us once a month & likes Harry Potter. Geez, is that too much to ask for?!

I’ll keep you guys posted foshizzle.

BrennaG.

At approximately 6:32 pm today I hit rock bottom.

I hear the term “quarter life crisis” thrown around a lot. Up until about a month ago, I’d kinda laughed it off. Then it hit me, I’m 25, no real job, no job prospects, no money, no real dreams & I live with a roommate (& my husband). SHIT. Here it is. My very own quarter life crisis. No, I didn’t ask for it. Much like a mid-life crisis, I never wanted the frustration, anxiety, pity & overall crappiness that comes along with it. Nope, never thought it’d turn out this way.

In fact, had you asked me 2 years ago where I’d be right now, I’d have been like rollin’ in dough with a terrific graphic design job in a really effing tall building, surely living in some super awesome apartment with a snazzy furniture, 2 cats, a dog & a bunny. Yea, I know, dream big, right?

But, alas that’s not exactly where I ended up. The economy went in the crapper & I’ve been kinda floating since then. Stuck in limbo, if you will. Not sure where to go next. I continue my job hunt, sort-of, when my motivation allows. Otherwise, up until this fine evening I had been content with working at the dress shop. Tonight my manager yelled at me like usual, I went unappreciated, like usual & then I hit rock bottom. I didn’t quit or anything, just starting to realize I need to pull myself together to pursue other jobs. Maybe. If I can find the motivation.

I think a lot of people my age are experiencing this so-called quarter life crisis (QLC-yea, came up with that just there on the spot, whuttup). Much of anyone that’s had the pleasure of graduating anytime in the past 2ish years has probably gone through some form of the QLC. I just hope it doesn’t last much longer because I have tons of things I need to get done before my mid-life crisis comes around.

J-Bird suggested I end this post with asswaffles. You’re welcome, honey.

BrennaG.

I think I’m on the verge of being an anti social hermit.

I really think I’m on the verge of being an anti social hermit, which may be a bit redundant, but I need to drive the point home. Most of you are probably aware of the fact that as you get older, it becomes harder to make friends. Well, that is definitely holding true for me.

High school was alright, I had a circle of friends, a seemingly never-ending amount of people to call/hang out with on the weekends. For the first few years of college, it seemed to happen pretty much the same way. We’d go out, have movie nights, go to events on campus. I had a fairly big circle of friends, always someone to talk on my cell phone to as I walked to class.

My last 2 years of college I became more busy, getting a job & going to school full-time. A lot of my old friends had dropped out/gone their separate ways, plus J-Bird & I were getting more serious. Became more like “acquaintances” with the people we had class with everyday-the people who had the same major as us & we never went hardly anywhere outside of class.

Fast forward to after college. I’ve moved around a lot trying to find jobs. I’ve switched jobs more than I’d like to admit. Because of this, it’s nearly impossible to meet people. Most people I meet are coworkers. Which, in some cases isn’t too bad, but right as I think I might be “getting close” to someone, I move. Ah, so, I had decided to become a hermit. Never leave the house. Ya know.

But, alas, my 2 favorite coworkers invited me out “for drinks” the other night at work. I hesitated. I always say no. I suppose out of pure habit. They begged. They pleaded. I texted J-Bird that’d I’d be late getting home, leave the porch light on. I felt like a loser because as we get to the Mexican restaurant, I had to tell the girls that I couldn’t have margaritas with them due to the medication I am taking. I ordered a sweet tea instead. I felt out of the loop as the other girls have known each other forever & talked about current & past relationships as I tried to fit in. AWKWARD. They then started asking me about my past relationships…something I’m iffy about sharing because I don’t have the greatest track record. Terrific. Apparently, I fail as a friend & at hanging out.

Back to being a hermit.

BrennaG.

Pinky: The tale of a turquoise bike

One of my favorite other blogs to read recently did a post about the ghetto (read http://mooselicker.wordpress.com/2012/01/25/ghettos/), which inspired me to tell you guys about my own run-in with the ghetto. While I was still in college, I lived (with J-brid) in a tiny apartment about a half a mile away from campus. The people beside me were in a band, the little asian girls that lived above us eventually burned their apartment down & people were always breaking into the pool area at 2 am to have parties. Occasionally, there were gunshots. The carwash up the street always had black Escalades with tinted windows parked there. Yes, we were indeed in the ghetto.

I used to ride my bike that I lovingly named Pinky to school everyday. I had to park Pinky outside my apartment, but I chained her up to the railing, oh I dunno, 4 feet from my front door. She had a little registration tag on her so that she could also be parked on campus without being towed? or whatever they do to unregistered bikes.

The morning that Pinky went missing, I was supposed to have a meeting with the chancellor’s wife, so I had on my best outfit. That’s when I noticed…Pinky was gone. J-bird & I decided before the meeting (we had like 2 hours) we’d go to the on-campus security office to report her as missing. They told us to call the police. We called the police. They told us to call campus security. You get the idea. I was given the run-around. Bummed that Pinky may be gone forever, we began walking to my meeting, as J-bird yelled, There! Over there she is! I immediately looked up to see a young thug in a blue jacket riding my Pinky down the road! I dailed the police back as we took off running. I’m pursuing the bike suspect on foot! I yelled to cop.

We followed the thug all the way to the library (yea exactly where I’d go too with a stolen bike) where we watched him chain it to a tree. The cops then met us there to get a full description of the suspect. Then we had to wait 2 hours while they searched the library for the thug to arrest him…yes. Over a bike. Yes, I missed my meeting, having to send a classmate in my place.

Turns out the thug was a 12 year old child…that just wanted a bike. Nonetheless, Pinky went back home with me that day & we happily spent the rest of the school year together. Then, I moved to another ghetto.

Stay safe out there.

BrennaG.