I'm Taylor W, and I am not a Phoenix

As I have been stuck on the I cant get a damn job bandwagon, I had a thought… if I didn’t go to law school, what else would I be doing? What alternate career would suit this sassy southerner? Well, part southerner. I’m kind of like a buttery biscuit topped with egg whites and avocado. Ya dig? Moving on. Here are some of my thoughts:

1. Traffic Enforcement Officer (a.k.a bitch if you park there imonna give you a ticket!)

                I know, you are thinking “Taylor what the EFF?! You can’t give people parking tickets, you are the QUEEN of parking tickets.” This is true. I believe that any signs of improvement in the California economy are a direct result of my relationship with the LA traffic enforcement. My bank account agrees. I swear, those sassy little traffic vixens wait in their three wheeled go-carts just WAITING for my meter to expire. But officer, I was 30 seconds late. Sucks to be you! Why yes, yes it does. In fact, I got a $68 dollar ticket last week DIRECTLY IN FRONT of my apartment. Now that is truly impressive. So, like the old saying goes, if you can’t beat ‘em join em right? I can just picture it now, dressed in my fancy pleated khakis and crisp white shirt zooming down Santa Monica boulevard to give Mr. Maserati a ticket…or to ask him if he is hiring, either one. It could work right?

2.  Nurse (a.k.a bitch imonna stick you with this needle!)

                This is really just a horrible idea for so many reasons. 1) I cannot stand needles. Yes, I am a 25 year old grown woman. However, I still squeal for sweet gentle Jesus whenever nurse Sally walks toward me with that death instrument. 2) I would dick around. I can see it now, Taylor walking around the hospital with an O.R. mask.. Dr. Phillips, I am your faaaaathhaaaaah. 3) I lack compassion. Shocking right? Actually, that isn’t 100% true. I am very compassionate…toward my friends. Some lady bitching at me because little Johnny got an eraser stuck up his nose? Maybe sooommmeeonne should keep a better eye on Johnny.  Yeah, not so much. Finally, 4) I SUUUUUUCK at math. My father neglected to pass down the “I can do math” gene. I still have nightmares about my dad hovering over me while I sat at the kitchen table at 1am in the morning trying to figure out my calculus homework. Oh, and to you Ms. Horne, I have NEEEEVVVVEEEERRR used anything above jr. high level math. Maybe that’s why I can’t find a full time job? Food for thought.

3. Restaurateur (a.k.a Charles Shaw isn’t fine wine?)

                I would LOOOOOOVE to own a restaurant. I love to cook, watch food network and I have an eye raising amount of experience, how do you say, sampling adult beverages. The only problem- I know nothing about operating a restaurant. I know nothing about owning a restaurant. Shit, I know nothing about owning anything. I’m pretty sure my dad is the rightful owner of my dog, I rent my apartment, and just about the only things I can call mine are either previously owned or from the mecca that is IKEA. I digress. This really is an actual dream of mine a loooooooooooooooong time down the road. I just need to make sure I keep my eye on the prize. An endless supply of good wine at my fingertips? Must. Not. Get. Sloshed. At. Work.  I should probably keep that in mind at all times… So this idea could actually work. In thirty years. Sigh.

Well, until then I will cling to my newly acquired part time jobs, (yes I have two now !!!) and the handle of “Vodka of the Gods” in my freezer.

Until next time.

Downgrade Taylor's Credit Rating

So last Monday, three days after the bar, I started looking for a job. Enthused, I sent out over 40 resume’s a day last week. What did I get?  7 rejection letters and some random asshole asking me on a date. Can a sister catch a break?

I know, I know the economy sucks. The great thing was that I had school to hide behind. Yah, it looks like shit out there but I’m protected by my academia bubble…until now. Granted, I have only been searching for a job for eight days, but it is beyond discouraging. Lets consider, I graduated at the top of my class in high school. In college, I could count the number of B’s I received on one hand. I graduated law school at the age of 25 with three amazing summer externships under my belt. What’s my point?

I just applied at subway.

What’s wrong with this picture? I’m not knocking the awesomeness that is the six inch meatball sub (Moses on the mountain its amazing), but I didn’t go to law school to work at Subway. If I didn’t have any loans to pay off, then this wouldn’t be an issue. However, as I am considering tucking Dot in a nap-sack and hiding from Sallie Mae for fear of default, the problem is real.

Another example of my misery- I have the best friends in the world. In college I was blessed enough to meet and befriend seven of the most amazing women I have ever met. Since that time, we have all remained extremely close. Visiting those girls is often the highlight of my month, quarter or year. As we are “that age” several of us (them) are getting married. Cut to the point- I just had to tell one of my best friends that I can’t attend her bachelorette party because I can’t afford it. Actually, that’s an understatement… Whenever I have enough money to buy groceries or put half a tank of gas in my car I think tiny baby Jesus…Amen.

No job = no social gatherings = no friends, right? My boyfriend woke me up in the middle of the night last week because I was shouting, “BUT I DON’T WANT TO BECOME THE CAT LADY. I CAN’T AFFORD FANCY FEAST!.”

Well shit.

There has to be good in all of this right? Actually, there is. When you live on a budget that involves searching under your couch cushions for gas money, you tend to become on savvy B. Exhibit A: yesterday- said no no bachelorette party day- I was feeling pretty down. Andrew’s solution? “Lets go fry some shit.” And fry we did. Oil, flour, okra, and chicken  totaling $7.50 (plus probably ¼ of a bottle of vodka) = a damn good time. “What else can we fry? Lets fry a cherry! Didn’t work. What  about beer? ?!?!!? We could fry DOT! Drunky-skunky. Needless to say, we had a blast.

So here is my point: 1) I should have a DAMN job because I am SERIOUSLY qualified, 2) but I don’t, 3) therefore I will look as much as I can and make every efforts to find employment even if it involves asking toasted or regular, and finally 4) I will continue to enjoy daily happy hour and pray I don’t throw my dog into the frying pan.

Until next time,