so ...

I’d rather not com­ment on nonna them playas

I have real­ized that I need to be falling-​over-​ass drunk dur­ing the entire play­offs, because oth­er­wise there is no way I will be able to make it. It is sim­ply too much stress.
Vlade hug­ging Brad? Excuse me while I pass out.
Before we get into this, just keep in mind that I’ve had three pint-​glass mar­gar­i­tas tonight. Anyway …
So yeah, things have got­ten too crazy up in these parts. I alluded to bad news back here. That was the day we found out that Christopher’s job was being out­sourced, mean­ing that as of Cinco de Mayo, nei­ther of us will have any kind of reg­u­lar employ­ment. Which kind of sucks. Which really kind of sucks. But oh!!! It gets bet­ter!!!
Now, today, we’ve found out that con­trac­tors are going to be check­ing out all the apart­ments in our com­plex over the next cou­ple of days, which we know means that man­age­ment is going to force us out of our apart­ments. This has been brew­ing over the last month or so, but we didn’t think that any­thing was going to hap­pen now. We’ve already seen the new renter sheets that say that they’re rent­ing out this same floor plan for what … $600/​month more? $700/​month? Something like that. Anyway, since we’re now here on a month-​to-​month basis and no longer pro­tected by a lease, they obvi­ously want us out of here yes­ter­day. So our rent is going up to, like, $2000/​month, which wouldn’t seem so awful if a) we weren’t out of a reg­u­lar pay­check and b) we weren’t liv­ing under­neath the al Qaeda day-​care cen­ter, you know what I’m say­ing? BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG, I swear the ceil­ing is made out of card­board. Living in Upper West Side pre-​War build­ings done spoiled me and we might as well move back into my postage-​stamp Manhattan co-​op at these prices. But any­way, we’re going to be pushed out of here in a cou­ple of months, and nei­ther of us has a real job to keep us here. Which is where things get EXCITING. No they don’t.
Christopher has some prospects, and I’ve applied for like a zil­lion things and have yet to hear any­thing back from any­one, which is, like, offen­sive. I demand respect. My mother (who her­self is a human resources pro­fes­sional) says that peo­ple are obvi­ously intim­i­dated by my 12 years of NYC pro­fes­sional expe­ri­ence, like they don’t want to hire me because I’ll make every­one look bad. Which I totally believe, but jeez, why can’t I even get a word of acknowl­edg­ment back from any­one? The only thing I’ve ever got­ten is a let­ter back from New Times say­ing that I was their runner-​up for the posi­tion of movie reviewer. Movie reviewer!!!I have like two years’ expe­ri­ence doing that tops, yet I only get respect from them. This, to me, is unfath­omable. I’ve now applied for about five dif­fer­ent jobs at Apple. I’ve got three resumes pend­ing there for three open Featured Content Manager posi­tions at the iTunes Music Store. Now some­one explain to me how I could not pos­si­bly be qual­i­fied for those jobs. Please, I’d really like to know. Is it because I’d be so fan­tas­tic that I’d make every­one else look bad? I guess so, but come on, peo­ple, show some flip­ping guts already. This sit­u­a­tion is beyond even me. I mean, really. For real. Come on. This is an abom­i­na­tion.
So now, we’ve got no employ­ment on the hori­zon, and no home. WTF, peo­ple. I mean, us. You know us, right? This makes no sense. No flip­ping sense at ALL.
This means, we need to reeval­u­ate our sit­u­a­tion up in heres. And, pos­si­bly and quite pos­si­bly prob­a­bly, we need to move our­selves up into wher­ever we will be appre­ci­ated.
These are the possibilities.

  • Stay in the Bay AreaOK, maybe. Christopher has already been offered a con­tract posi­tion with the out­sourcers who are tak­ing over his job. He’s also got a few things brew­ing in dif­fer­ent neigh­bor­hoods. I’ve applied for a bunch of things, but have yet to hear any­thing back because I am too SKILLED and INTIMIDATING. Bite me. So we might just have to uproot our­selves into … another tem­po­rary liv­ing posi­tion. And I might just have to have an ATTACK.
  • Modesto — This is my husband’s home­town. We’d be, like, mil­lion­aires up in that bitch, appar­ently. I’d rather not.
  • Los Angeles — Christopher has a job pos­si­bil­ity there, and I could beg a job back at MTV News and would be in a bet­ter posi­tion to play on with my screen­writ­ing busi­ness. However, nei­ther of us are fans of the place. Granted, he went to col­lege in Riverside and I spent three days there on a “Sweet Valley High” shoot, but still, we’re pretty good with our instincts. Also, the Lakers? F the Lakers.
  • New York — Didn’t I just leave? But every­one I love who isn’t fam­ily is there. Yet dame, the place be all expen­sive. And I can­not fathom going back to my old job in NYC. I can’t. I can’t. But my girls are there. What’s the rent like in Greenpoint these days? Are there any open apart­ments in your build­ing? Holla.
  • Chicago and/​or Boston — Jesus. What.
  • Mpls./St. Paul — My home­town, where every­one I love who is fam­ily lives, and quite pos­si­bly the most awe­somest place on Earth. Granted I was fear­ful of going back there for a while, and I know my hus­band was avoid­ing look­ing there because there was a feel­ing that I’d want to avoid “going back” after my stint in NYC … which was true for a while, but now, dame, that place rules, why wouldn’t I want to move back? I’d love to spend more time with my fam­ily. I haven’t lived there since, like, 1988. The only draw­back is the X-​treme weather. But there’s great peo­ple and great food and great oppor­tu­ni­ties and great fam­ily and the State Fair and Radio K and karaōke at Grumpy’s. Land sakes, why not?
Why not, that’s the ques­tion right now. So yeah, it doesn’t mat­ter where you are, but if you have a decent hous­ing mar­ket and some great jobs for a kick­ass data cen­ter oper­a­tions man­ager and a psy­chot­i­cally top-​flight writer/​editor, then good­ness gra­cious, holler at your girl.

4 comments to I’d rather not com­ment on nonna them playas

  • Kim

    from Mike Bibby’s post-​game press conference

  • pieman

    Goodness, that’s a lot of stuff going on in your lives. I wish I knew of some career oppor­tu­ni­ties for you both, but the job mar­ket in Central Maine isn’t cry­ing out for the tal­ents that you two pos­sess. I’m think­ing you folks aren’t look­ing to pick pota­toes or set lob­ster traps, are you?
    Kim — your job plight is some­thing that really ticks me off. I can­not fathom why peo­ple assume that appli­cants with great expe­ri­ence are overqual­i­fied. Give them a damn chance. Let the per­son decide if they are overqual­i­fied. They think you’ll be bored and quit? You’re going to show up all those other slack­ers? Piss on them, I say.
    Best of luck.

  • You know I root for the NYC. Greenpoint rates are up, but you never know when you’ll get lucky. Some bitch I know scored a huge 2 bed­room for $800 a block away from me. Grr. Yes, so Minneapolis is lovely and delight­ful, and maybe LA will work, but please don’t move to Boston or Chicago. They are cold and bor­ing. And Modesto is warm and bor­ing, I imag­ine.
    Why don’t we start our own com­pany and all hire each other? And also buy a man­sion to all live in, with a back­yard and a pool and ten­nis courts. I’m just try­ing to be practical.

  • Kim

    Jane, we really must start our own com­pany, because we seem to be the only peo­ple who appre­ci­ate our own tal­ents for some insane, inex­plic­a­ble rea­son. Like those ass­butts who started the “Jesus Is My Homeboy” com­pany, as seen in last week’s Enquirer. What a cou­ple of numb­nuts. Shamefully wealthy numb­nuts.
    P-​man, thank you for your sup­port. I’m sure the peo­ple who pick pota­toes and set lob­ster traps are far more inter­est­ing and pleas­ant to be around than 95% of my past co-​workers.