Dile al amor, que no toque mi puerta,

Que yo no estoy en casa, que no vuelva manana..

- Dile Al Amor by Aventura

The name's Johnson. Tom Johnson.

Okay, so the job search ain't going too well. I've sent out hundreds, nay, thousands, of emails to ads on Craiglist,  and not more than one measly interview. Rather depressing. I must be doing something wrong, I figured. So I decided to evaluate myself.

Well, I don't dress like a 20-year-old, for one. I don't paint my nails, I don't wear earrings and I'm not a fan of lipstick. So I went out and bought some lipstick and nail polish (I already have earrings, I just don't wear them lol).

Next, I showed my friend a resume, and he helped me give a complete make-over. Seriously. Like a Holy-Shit-I-Can-Tell-you-Went-To-Jenny-Craig-Cuz-I-Didn't-Recognize-You Makeover.

And now, I am confident.

Unfortunately, I received one of these, which lowered my happiness, just a bit, until I sought my revenge:

Seems legit.

Which seemed oddly familiar to something I'd received before:

Steve Gold. Seriously.

Which was similar to a message I had received before that:

Hmm.. I think something's FISHY.

I've been applying for receptionist jobs, not fucking personal assistant while you're in ButtFuck Egypt jobs. Today, when I received my third one (the one at the top) I sent back this:

Eight six seven five three oh nineeeeee

And, in a surprising turn of events, Mr. Harrison Cole himself sent me back this reply:

Oh Harrison, you knucklehead.

So, according to this email (which seems legit btw) I have a job. Can't wait for my first assignment as a seventy-five year old sexually confused individual named Tom Johnson.

Well, I'm going to end this post before I have to look my boyfriend in the face and tell him I haven't cleaned this room because I've been blogging. 

Peaceeeee!

73.

Did you know that if you dip a dollar bill in alcohol and water, and you set it on fire, it won't burn? Yup. That's what I learned from YouTube today.

I don't really have much to say, but I wanted to post something.



I applied for a job recently, and was called for a phone interview. Sort of.


It required for me to go to a car website, and get 8 quotes using the information of a fictional person that they gave me, Ashley Genobli. She's a 50-something author that lives at 945 Roderigo Avenue and drives a 2008 Chevy Aveo.

This was my expression.

I was needless to say, confused, but I did it. Did I mention it was timed? But I thought I did okay. The limit was an hour but I did it in 45 minutes.

Next, I had to go to said website, and keep refreshing till I found three specific ads, click, and find more quotes using the fictional information of Ashley Genobli. This was timed as well, and I was told it would take about 15 minutes. I did it in 10.

The next day, the HR lady, Cathy, emailed me to let me know that I didn't pass the test. They wanted a 90 or higher, but I got a 73.

A SEVENTY FUCKING THREE.

HOW THE FUCK DID I GET A SEVENTY THREE.


I was about to email that lady back with a well written I-Didn't-Want-To-Work-For-Your-Shitty-Ass-Company-Anyway letter, but I decided against it.

Oh, and she threw in that I could take the test again in 6 months.

REALLY. THANK YOU OH MERCIFUL HR LADY FROM SOME DUMBASS CAR WEBSITE COMPANY. I'M HONORED. REALLY, I AM. I MUST HAVE DONE SOMETHING AMAZING IN A PAST LIFE.

-_____________________-

Whatever. It was probably a shitty job anyway. They probably slave their employees into all hours of the night and don't let them put up pictures in their boring gray cubicles and keep the A/C off so they can save money and don't let them take lunch breaks and ration the water at the water cooler.

It's all good. -eats my pizza-

I love that song..

Okay, I had to make a post about this video STAT because it's only been up for A DAY and it has more views than all my crappy camera phone videos combined [TilTheBreakOfDawn is my YouTube Channel if you feel like wasting some precious minutes of your life]. 177,990 to be exact.

The title is: Why I Hate Religion, But Love Jesus.

Now I must admit, when I saw this, I was skeptical. I thought it was just a typical video with a seemingly contradictory name just to get views. But I was astonished at the simplicity and directness of the message. It's a young guy, in his 20's probably, and his whole message rhymes, which is pretty cool. He's standing on front of a cathedral-looking building, and after reading the description, I realized that its "a poem I wrote to highlight the difference between Jesus and false religion."

I love this video because it makes you think without even trying. I've always felt that many people get caught up in trying to be "good" by doing what they think will please God and don't realize that they're missing the essence of it. I don't think religion is about following a set of rules and seeking the approval of a superior being. I think it's about seeking tranquility and happiness in an entity that is not physical, something that is beyond that world that you may interpret as you please.

I don't really have much to say, so I'll leave with a few lines from the one long lost hit Jewel had.. you remember that song, right??

"Who will save your soul? After those lies that you told boy..

Who will save your soul, if you won't save your own?"

Return of the Life Ruining Pimple.

Here's a terribly embarrassing story for your pleasure:


Somewhere around 2 years ago, I got a pimple under my chin..

I picked at it, like the asshole I am, and it got bigger.

Turns out, wasn't no pimple.


Why? Because I put EVERYTHING on it, including toothpaste, and it refused to leave me be.

Finally, my dad noticed it, and concluded that this was indeed, no ordinary pimple.

He put some hydrogen peroxide on it for about 10 minutes, and the next morning, I was left with a deliciously huge scab under my chin. Fucking awesome.

Now, the whole reason I'm regurgitating this painful memory is because I was always left with a minor scar to remember this Amityville Horror Pimple by.

This afternoon, I happened to brush my hand under my chin, and I felt it.

It's back.

O________________________________O


What have I done to deserve such a punishment?

I do not yet know.

At least, I can be comforted knowing that my boyfriend always thinks I'm beautiful.. even when I wake up in the middle of the night to go pee and my eyes are all squinty and my hair is a tangled mess.. he still hugs me like it's nobody's business.

Which reminds me, I need a new job. LIKE NAO.

Why did that remind of my job?

Not really sure.

I don't really know what I want in life.

I really should be looking for jobs now, so I guess I'll get to it.

TOO DA LOO MOTHA FUCKKKAAAA [love The Hangover]

Please don't hate me, Bank Of America!

I'll be frank. I'm in debt right now. 

I guess I'm not in debt in the technical sense; I don't owe money to an institution.
I owe money to myself.

See, I have this thing called a savings account. I've come to the conclusion that I take out more than I put in. I'm patiently waiting for the moment when Bank Of America will get fed up with my inability to save any kind of money, and finally change my savings account to a second checking account.

You see, I have a decent amount of money in my savings account. Well, had. After spending on Ultra, season passes for Santa's (that I have yet to use, and are nonrefundable) and an insane number of cheap economical for the monetarily-challenged  Christmas gifts from Walmart, my savings account is looking like the budget of a 3 year old. Funny things, those savings accounts.

But on a brighter note, I will be cooking with my boyfriend soon. :) But I won't be saving the Fire Dept.'s number on speed dial just yet.

It seems our first home-cooked (by us) meal will consist of chicken, pasta and sauce. And we're planning on combing those three ingredients into something orgasmic and delicious. Or orgasmicly delicious. Something like that.

It all started at Winn-Dixie. We stocked up on Chef Boyardee, instant noodles and canned soup, because we knew that the severity of our debt would keep us below the poverty line for about 3 weeks. And then, we passed the pasta and sauce. 

I said, "What if we made pasta?"

He looked at me with a face that said, THAT'S BRILLIANT. 

And off we went through the aisles of Winn-Dixie, thinking of dishes and dishes to cook in my mom's kitchen all the while feeling like a couple adjusting to the married life.

Meanwhile, it's freezing in my room. We Miami-ans get one little drop into the 60's, and we pull out our coats and scarves like it's no one's business.

Well, time for work!