Kristabella: Full of Snark Since 1977

Posted By Kristabella on October 13, 2008

I know you’re all seeing this title in your reader and you’re saying to yourselves “will she ever stop talking about being unemployed?” And you want to know something? I will stop talking about being unemployed when I’m NO LONGER UNEMPLOYED.

Actually, I just wanted to update you about the state of things here on Unemployment Island. It isn’t as dire as you think. I’m not talking to volleyballs. But I am having deep, philosophical conversations with my cat. She’s very wise. So much in fact that I’m thinking of starting her own Twitter page. Her updates will look something like this: 

cneiowpgh'[io[fj9E0Q]JIp’nv’ GNRIPWPnbfoad;
27 minutes ago from web

KittyKitty

And it would look like that because she is a cat and she just happened to walk across the keyboard. Because she is a cat and therefore cannot Twitter to all her cat peeps about the kick ass seafood medley she just had for dinner. BECAUSE SHE IS A CAT. I have not lost it. Yet.

I have actually gotten into quite a routine while on Unemployment Island. A lot of it is because of the fact that I have nowhere to be and no one to see, so showering and wearing clothes are optional. I have become accustomed to going to bed at 2 AM. It’s my bed time. Which is all fine and good when you get up at 10:30 every morning. That is plenty of sleep to tackle your day.

But this late bedtime is kind of a problem when you have a reason to get up early the following day. Like when your sister-in-law asks you if you wouldn’t mind watching your niece on Saturday morning at 7:30 AM. And you were up the previous day until 2 AM because your body thinks 2 AM is a normal time to fall asleep and won’t succumb to sleepiness a second before. Stupid body.

In addition, while on Unemployment Island I have suffered from severe atrophy in all my muscles. I noticed this when I went to the local store on the Island and brought home heavy bags of groceries. My arms were sore for two days after that. Because I have done nothing more with my arms than pushing the mouse button, typing, using the TV remote and shoveling mass quantities of food into my mouth.

Today I spent most of my time applying for jobs, including one for a manager of social media, which I do have to say, Unemployment Island has made me better qualified for a job in social media. I do actually want off this island soon. I’m getting too used to the ways of the Island. I want more things to talk about. I want to maybe shower every day and possibly leave the house. (Please don’t leave a comment and tell me that yes indeed, I can do this while unemployed. I know this. There is no motivation because I can earn just as much money sitting on the couch as I can outside moving and such.)

I’m a creature of habit. And these habits aren’t necessarily the ones I would like for the rest of my life. They don’t really bode well for someone who wishes to be an active member of society. Active members shower and brush their teeth and don’t have impressions of their asses on the couch cushions. Although you won’t hear me complaining about sleeping after 10 AM every day.

:::

In other blogging news, Hotfessional chose this here blog to review for CommentLuv. So go check it out. I’m the Featured Site! And thankfully Hotfessional has some pull because the first photo they posted of me in that post was not flattering.

Also, just because I want to prove I do actually do things during the day, I did have an interview today. But it wasn’t for a job. It was for an article for the Chicago Tribune about people who hate Halloween. And I’m right up there for the most depressing reason why I hate Halloween.  She found this post while Googling.

If you live in Chicago and hate Halloween, let me know because the reporter is looking for more people to interview!

Category: All Things Blogging, Unemployment Line | 18 Comments »
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Posted By Kristabella on October 12, 2008

Dear Skyler,

Today you turned 36 months. It actually translates to three years, in case you aren’t able to do complex math equations at your young age. Because really, people should stop counting ages in months around two years old. But you are thirty six months. Most people take longer than that to pay off their cars.

I can’t believe how big you are. You seem to get older every time I see you. And I just wish you could stay this age forever because you’re so funny. You never cease to make me laugh over the funny things you say and do. We should all be more like you and learn to love life and cake frosting as much as you do.

My mom, your Mahnee, say the two of us are very similar. That when Auntie was your age, I was a lot like you. It could be because we both have older brothers. It could be that both of us love to sing songs and have an uncanny knack for knowing the words to every song. Or it could be our love of beer. (Beer was the second word Auntie ever said.)

This year has been a bit rough for Auntie, especially lately. But the one thing I love more than anything is spending time with you. Nothing will take my mind off the hard time I’m having, looking for a job in this scary economy, more than when I walk and see your face and you come running, smiling, and give me a big hug and sloppy kisses. Or when we sit in the bathroom after I painted your nails and we sing songs while we wait for the nail polish to dry. In those moments, nothing else matters, nothing else is bad in the world and I thank you, my little crazy girl, for reminding old Auntie exactly what is important in life.

Like I said last year when I wrote to you on your last birthday, I don’t think I can ever adequately put into words how much I love you and how I will do anything to protect you, like slapping some strange boy at the playground when he tries to throw rocks at you.

Year number three is going to be so great for you! You’re already in preschool and loving every second of it. You like your dance class and library time, reading stories and doing arty crafts.

You would spend all your time on the swings at the park if you could. You’re very independent and have an amazing imagination. You love to tell stories. You can’t wait to be old enough, and tall enough, to go on the American Eagle roller coaster. It’s all you talk about. You use your inside voice outside when you get shy and reserve your loud outside voice for inside, when you get excited about balloons or Hannah Montana.

You hate having your hair done. Your mommy really hopes you grow out of that soon because she would love to style your hair in different ways every day and not have to fight with you or bribe you.

But we all let you get away with murder because we can’t deny this face. Ever. 

Can you blame us?

Happy third birthday to my favorite niece!

Love,

Auntie

Category: All in the Family | 20 Comments »
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Posted By Kristabella on October 10, 2008

First off, I have to share with you what I purchased at Target today. Yes, it is boxed wine. But look! It comes in a cube. In four single servings. (Well, single servings if you aren’t ME.) Or as I’ve decided they should be marketed, JUICE BOXES FOR WINE! JUICE BOXES FOR ADULTS! JUICE BOXES FOR ALCOHOLICS! See?

Add a straw and you could drink these in the car and totally not get arrested! Boxes are the new bottles!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I actually planned to write about something else entirely, but I couldn’t not share the wine juice boxes with you. And I feel bad for those of you who cannot buy alcohol in Target so that you can’t buy the Wine Cubes. Once you go cube, you’re never going back! Wine Cube in ’08!

The plan, actually, was to write about a certain piece of mail I received today.

Do you remember when I mentioned here about a certain job I was interviewing for? Last time we saw our Interviewing Machine of a Heroine, she was in the finalist interview for this position. She charmed them and wowed them in the interview and then blew them away on the writing test. When it came to the thank you emails, she totally fucked up and sent emails at 11 PM, but what would that matter? Her credentials and her exploding-off-the-page personality were more than a little thank you email mishap. Most people don’t even send thank you emails anyway!

Fast forward a week after the last interview. Our heroine hasn’t heard anything. So she gives a courtesy call, knowing full well the last communication was that a decision would be made in a “few weeks” from now. She leaves a light, breezy message just to let them know “hey! I’m still here and still want the job you want to give to me!”

That was last Tuesday. Our heroine never got a return phone call. Again she thought nothing of it because she knew that “few weeks” meant more than one. Our heroine is very intelligent, clearly.

So this week on Wednesday, after our heroine hasn’t heard ANYTHING from this fucking company (easy, breezy heroine has LOST HER BREEZINESS), she calls again. Again, another reminder that she’s still here and has not heard A WORD from them. She attempts breezy, but is afraid that maybe when she mentions the fact that the HR person did not return her last phone call, it may come across as bitchy. She hope this doesn’t hurt her chances to become the easy, breezy Communications Manager.

Today, our heroine receives a letter (postmarked on Wednesday after said phone call) from the WEAK HR person at the company that says they have decided to fill the position with another NOT EASY, BREEZY candidate. Our heroine is upset by this letter for a number of reasons. Here she will list those reasons.

1. They spelled the heroine’s first name wrong. In the letter AND on the envelope. This may be OK had she not been on THREE INTERVIEWS with this company.
2. Actually, that’s never OK. Look at the FUCKING RESUME.
3. Our heroine knew, after two weeks of no returned phone calls, that she didn’t get the job. But since this company was being cowardly and not returning her phone calls, she was all excited about the prospect of calling once a week for the next 17 weeks until this company finally told her “NO, we did not select you. PLEASE STOP CALLING.”
4. A letter is totally a cop-out. Our heroine deserves better. After a phone interview and two in-person interviews, she DESERVES a phone call to let her know. And not just because she has left two messages. She deserves a phone call because that is the right thing to do after an in-person interview.
5. Our heroine, when she worked for the 49ers, had the duty of sending out ding letters to possible intern candidates. If the 49ers ever actually interviewed someone, like talked to them on the phone, they got a call from the PR Director to tell them “you’re a fuckwit, sorry you will never work here.” It is common decency to call a person to let them down easy.
6. Sending a letter because you’re too chicken to CALL SOMEONE BACK is just spineless.
7. This will bother our heroine for quite some time. Because as Stephanie Tanner once eloquently stated “HOW RUDE!”

Our heroine is actually OK with not getting this job. This debacle of the sorry handling of the whole thing, with the HR woman apparently too chicken to PICK UP THE PHONE (I’m talking Director of HR too, not a HR underling, not that it matters), made it clear that this would not be a good place for our heroine to work. There are better places for her to be at, places that will realize her witty, easy, breezy style and embrace it. She will find exactly the right place to work at.

She just hope that place has wine juice boxes.

Category: Hooch Hilarity, Job Search | 40 Comments »
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Posted By Kristabella on October 9, 2008

I always write my blog posts at night. At the very earliest, I think I’ve written posts in the late afternoon, possibly in a Word document to post when I got home in the evening. I am not a morning person and this translates to my creative time. I can barely keep my eyes open in the morning, let alone be witty and form sentences. In addition, I’ve noticed I’m much better at interviews that take place later in the morning or afternoon. Starting around 4 PM in the afternoon is my “funny time”.

So that is why I always write later at night. A lot of times things will come to me in the middle of the night or right before I go to bed, which is why I keep a notepad by my bed. I need to be ready when genius strikes. Plus, I always wanted to see if it was true that if you just started writing the minute you woke up, you would remember your dreams. Too bad when I get up all I’m thinking about is either crying or when I can go back to bed. I could give two shits about my weird dreams.

Today after I got home from my interview at the churchy organization (it went well, I really liked the people. It’s just too bad that I would hate the actual job and not be able to do it) I was doing a few dishes and as I was scrub-a-dub-dubbing, I had all these funny zingers to write about in my head. I didn’t write them down otherwise I’d end up with a pile of wet paper which would probably only be good for spit balls or papier mache. But, I figured I would remember them because they were SO FUNNY.

Guess what? I have no idea what was so fucking funny that I was snickering in my soap suds.

It might have had something to do with the new litter box I bought for my cats. Which they were not sure what to do with. It is bigger than the last one and I think they are overeating and drinking bowls of water on purpose just to hang out in the roomy litter box. I think I caught one of them napping in there. Now they can throw raves in there with the neighborhood cats, if I ever get a job and leave the house again, they tell me.

It might have had something to do with the slacker hippies below me that smoke a lot of pot. I know I’m home during the day now, which is during peak pot-smoking hours for the slacker community, but it’s starting to get fucking irritating. I’m tired of that acidic smell. It gives me a damn headache. It’s like they forget that smoke wafts upwards! I so want to tattle on them because GROW THE FUCK UP AND GET A JOB! SAYS THE CRAZY UNEMPLOYED WOMAN WHO ISN’T WEARING ANY PANTS!

But I don’t remember any of these things because my brain cells are dropping like flies from lack of use. Not from alcohol intake. Even if it is always Beer O’Clock in Unemploymentville.

*Sassy Kay, the most famous puppy on the interwebs.

Category: All Things Blogging | 14 Comments »
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Posted By Kristabella on October 7, 2008

I have something quite awesome to share with all of you. It made my day on this rainy Tuesday in Chicago.

Today in my daily Gchats with Nic, she gave me a present on her birthday. (Isn’t she generous?) She showed me a website that was just awesome.

Are you all familiar with the Duggar family? She of the clown-car vagina, who is currently pregnant with her EIGHTEENTH CHILD? Well, they currently have a show on TLC called 17 and Counting. I am sad to admit that due to Nic’s enthusiasm about the show, I am now a weekly watcher.

I have so many questions. Does she have any bladder control? Does she have to go three tampons wide when she is riding the Crimson Wave? Isn’t it a form of child abuse? I mean she hardly pays attention to the older kids. She makes them take care of themselves. How can they afford that many children? Why would want to ever have sex again after pushing 17 kids out your va-jay-jay? Why would her husband not secretly get a vasectomy? Why would he even want to touch her ever again? I don’t think this is what God wanted!

Surprisingly, the kids are seemingly normal. Going into the show, I was picturing a ginormous family of Cletus the Slack-Jawed Yokels and kin. But they all have teeth. And nice clothes. And speak well. (Yes, I realize I had very low expectation and it was wrong and I was pre-judging. But don’t tell me you didn’t think the same thing.) They are all home-schooled.

This week’s episode was about the oldest kid, Josh, and him proposing to his girlfriend. I watched it tonight, something to kill the time before the debate. I wasn’t paying too much attention because I couldn’t really get over the fact that a 20 year old man who was home schooled GOT ENGAGED BEFORE ME. And he met his future wife at a HOME SCHOOL CONFERENCE! I want to be the trade show coordinator for that. Think of the blog posts.

Clearly these people are very religious. Mom Duggar has that many kids because God keeps giving them to her. And since she used to be on the pill and had a miscarriage on her very first pregnancy, she feels God punished her and that is why she has to have as many children as he wants her to have. (Note to God, please stop. Eighteen is enough.) (I so hope that’s the title of their next show.)

They are also very religious when it comes to their relationships. In the case of Josh and his girlfriend Anna, before getting engaged they were in a period of courtship. Which means they dated long-distance (he in Arkansas, her in Florida) and obviously didn’t have any pre-marital sex. Guess what else the don’t do before marriage? KISS! They are allowed to hold hands and THAT IS IT! Can you imagine your first kiss with your mate being the one at the wedding in front of all your family and friends?

(Josh and Anna “courted” for two years, which means two years of that boy’s life, at his sexual peak, of just phone calls and hand-holding. And they are chaperoned whenever they are together so that means inappropriate rubbing is out of the question.)

I cannot get my mind around this. It is probably because I have had a penchant since college of making out with random people in bars. Making out is fun! And also? Some people are BAD kissers! Can you imagine being married to a bad kisser? A sloppy kisser or someone who wants to lick your tonsils? That is like a death sentence. And not someone I would want to have 17 kids with!

But whatever, to each their own. I am Judgey McJudgeypants and I’m not ashamed of it. I just don’t understand. And yet I can’t stop watching. And apparently I’m going to hell anyway, since just being a nice person doesn’t get you there.

The reason I share all this background with you is to show you one of the best things that I have ever seen on the internet. This site here is Josh and Anna’s wedding website. Take a look around. I imagine this site is what it will be like to work for a churchy organization.

When you’re done looking around, have a look-see at the bottom of the page. At these two crazy kids’ wedding registries, one at Wal-Mart and one at Bed, Bath & Beyond. Most of it is your normal registry stuff – towels, sheets, muffin pans, mixers, measuring spoons. But then there are things that I have never seen on a registry. Here is the list of my favorite Duggar wedding registry items:

• Coke and Sprite
• Pringles
• Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups
• University of Arkansas gear – everything from mugs to bumper stickers to flip flops and a hamper
• M&Ms
• Gatorade

And my personal favorite? SIX KINDS OF BEEF JERKY!

But at least they registered for 2 Dyson vacuums and an iPod Touch. So all isn’t lost.

Category: All Things Blogging, All Things TV, Land of Random | 37 Comments »
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