Take me BACK!

You might remember that I thought one of the tinderdudes was going to be boyfriend material. I was going to write the whole saga, but then I realized it was long and drawn-out and I didn't want to give any more effort to a guy not worth my time.

Borrring

Let's just say he couldn't handle life and a relationship at the same time and leave it at that.

As I return to the tinders however, I am rethinking things and considering begging him to take me back...

the little tyke just won't stay down...

His "about me" is incomplete. It should be "...camping, fishing, reading, football, ... drowning small children."

At first I thought he was attempting a funny face (and failing) but after looking at the rest of his pictures I realized his face got frozen this way. His mother should have warned him.

He's 34... right. And I'm 17. I mean, there's someone for everyone, right? Even vegan satanists. I'm pretty sure the southern Baptists I grew up with think everyone in California is like this dude.

And this guy I'm fairly certain is homeless and lives near the freeway underpass by my house.

Dear Tinderdude that was almost my BF,
PLEASE for the love of all things Tinder, take me BACK!!!
Maybe you'll grow up one of these days and be a man. I'll take my chances! Thank you.
Sincerely,
Willing to Settle (but not totally)

the smell of desperation

It kind of has a sweet stench, like burnt hair or air freshener sprayed just after someone drops a load in the terlet.

YES, I blurred her email.  Y'all don't need to be up in her bidness.

Poor little girl, little does she know she's on the road to Chatsworth (click the link and look at #1) As much as I complain about my shitty jobs and how bad it is to look for a job, at least I am not posting on CL looking for someone who likes a thick mixed girl cloaked in the air of desperation. Especially since I'm about 20-25 pounds lighter than her and about as white as a person could be.

Now get out there and look for my pony.  See if you can find it on "missed connections." The ad might read something like this:

Missing your pony pretty little white girl? Why don't you cry to daddy and see if he will buy you another one. 

True story, I went to high school with a kid from an affluent family (white boy) who, on his 16th birthday was the proud recipient of a slightly used Jeep Wrangler.  He promptly wrecked it, so his parents got him a mid-range SUV.  Guess what? He wrecked that one too. So they bought him a brand-spankin-new Porsche 911.  How does this make sense? White people are dumb.

bahahahahaha he's an Aggie!!!

interview, interview, interview

Five interviews in four weeks! Whew!
Plus, the temp/perm/staffing agency has two interviews in the works and I had a phone pre-interview yesterday.

I called mom to let her know my progress, and to ask her wizened advice about one of the jobs I've interviewed for.

Well, I was sharing with mom all of this and mom just kind of lays into me about not having a job yet! Uhm hello??? I've been busting my butt to get interviews.  Just because I don't like the job searches you send me doesn't mean I'm not looking for a job! It has been a MONTH! Jeez.

God Bless Texas, but my parents have no idea about the entertainment industry.  A few years back my dad thought I should just "get a job on set, making costumes or building sets or something" to get my foot in the door as an actor.  Bless his heart.  Mom keeps sending me job links to the film studios, even though it is in departments like international contracts or media relations and entry level positions like receptionist or boot licker.  Somehow, in her mind that will get me a job on set eventually.

Maybe that would work.  Here's how that would go down: Day in and day out, I arrive to work on the studio lot and silently cry inside that I am going into a building that has nothing to do with performing, chain myself to a desk and a phone for 8 hours with a small break for eating and sobbing.  On my allotted break from prison work, I would stagger out for food and hope for a drunk delivery truck driver to be in my path.  Instead, I would happen to pass by the Commissary where Spielberg, Judd Apatow and the Cohen Brothers would be having lunch.  And instead of ignoring another peon worker-bee, they would somehow look past my haggard looks, mascara stained cheeks and my bloodshot bleary eyes and see a talented, funny, hot-for-okcupid-standards, undiscovered *STAR*  and simply not be able to resist casting me as the lead in all three of their next projects.  Yup, that's pretty much what is going to happen.