Sarah, the Unemployed Loser

I am looking for a job all over town ... if I don't get some callbacks soon I'm going to have to resort to selling homemade prescription drugs out my back door. "I've got your Prozac right here!" I'd yell, while quietly closing the cap of a Tic Tac package.

... Or not. Still though. Desperation ensures I'll keep this idea in the back of my mind until some enterprising Bipolar sufferer takes a look at me and says, "There. That's the girl I'd like to get my discount medication from." Which isn't very likely because I don't tend to wear my lab coat around in public... anymore.

Actually, it's not all that bad, although I am starting to worry a little bit. My money is dwindling fast. This is what you get for being the kind of girl who just decides to pick up and move with about fifty dollars in the bank. I've never really grasped the idea of responsibility outside of a Spiderman movie I guess.

I'm not about to give up though, -- and it might be slightly less due to me being immersed up to my knees in adulthood, and more due to the fact that they have really fun mittens for sale on Robson -- and I will be looking around for more jobs tomorrow. I kind of feel like a stranger in a strange land, which is ridiculous because I know a handful of people here -- I think it has more to do with me feeling like I've changed and I can't find a way to cookie cutter myself back into the swing of things.

Today was my mom's birthday, and we all went for dinner at Dakota's where I had a piece of steak the size of a walnut and ate herbed roasted potatoes in under 25 seconds because I excel at gluttony. I ordered a Pink Paradise drink pumped full of alcohol, and as I sat there wishing I had five or so more in front of me, I got this sort of ache in my heart and I missed Melissa and Max and Masset so much I teared up a little.

I'm not much for crying outside of really emotional movies about sinking ocean liners or, even, sometimes, moments from Die Hard when Bruce Willis is being especially awesome and I am overwhelmed by his dedication to driving transports over complicated bridge structures FOR THE SAKE OF THE WORLD, but honestly, I miss my Island, and I miss my family and I miss spontaneous dance parties in the middle of the kitchen.

I miss dressing up to go out in strange outfits, pairing red plastic crocs with brown velvet sequined skirts, I miss walking to the grocery store for Vanilla and Hazelnut coffee. I miss seeing Max come home from school and hearing all about his day, reading him Roald Dahl books, watching movies late into the night on weekends. I miss visiting Melissa in her freezing cold room, dressing up like fairies and trudging off towards the woods with my camera, feathers, our bags laden down with shells and tarot cards and rocks. I miss her advice and her laugh and the way she could move for move impersonate Olive Hoover's dance from Little Miss Sunshine.

I don't think I made a mistake in leaving, although I am 100% I will always remember my times with Max and Melissa as being some of the happiest of my life, but I'm feeling kind of lost here, now, unsure of what to do or where to go or how to shape my life and...

I suppose that's life though, especially when you tend to follow whichever way the wind blows. I think I'm experiencing a bit of melancholy due to homesickness and frustration but here are some things that are awesome:

1) I am the only person I know who owns mittens in the shape of mice.
2) Yesterday me and my dad went to a hockey game. It took me a good 15 minutes to figure out which team was the home team (I am great at hockey.) but when we won 5-2 I clapped my hands like a merry little tard and raised a couple of super excited fists into the air like I was Billie Jean and Mr. Pyatt owed me $600 dollars for my brother's "motoscooter".
3) Samuel L. Jackson hand to God SINGS and STEALS MY HEART in Black Snake Moan.

4) The following songs:

a) Bela Lugosi is Dead - Nouvelle Vague
b) Psyche - Nouvelle Vague ("Jesus... Jesus wouldn't like it." .... awesome.)
c) Stripper - SoHo Dolls. (Brad danced to this earlier, and wow. Long blonde hair and a set of solid gold stripper guns and he'd be a half decent erotic dancer. .... gross.)

Labels: Sarah Land