Unemployment and Groping

I am sending out the tragic tales of my sad, sad life in the hopes of brightening your day. You may recall the Travel Chronicles, but as I will not be leaving again any time soon, I’ll just have to pretend that my life is interesting enough to read about. And so will you, God damn it. My darling Becca has convinced me to share my woes in an effort to be fabulous like SJP and possibly publish said letters in an effort to be employed. But please don’t feel obligated to read these. I will take absolutely no offense if you’d like to be removed from the list of privileged recipients. I will only hate you for all eternity and put some serious consideration into skinning, boiling, and eating your pets.

So let’s talk about some of the highlights of being me. First of all, I am excruciatingly good looking. But you knew that, so we can move on. I am unemployed and live with my parents. But that’s lame, so we can go back to discussing my innate hotness. Just kidding! Let’s talk about unemployment.

Last July, I was offered an interview. They schmoozed me bigtime and I ran on the figurative wheel like a good little hammie. I answered all their hideous questions and grinned like a psycho as though discussing my utter lack of experience in the workforce and my crappy GPA was the bestest, yummiest morsel of which I would happily shove into my cheek.

Then, after that whole nightmare, I got a glorious phone call. The clouds parted, the sky cracked open and God Himself reached his fucking arm through just to tell me that indeed there was a position for me, but that I would have to wait until they had filled the currently ones internally. So I said hooray! I’ll be happy to wait around like an ugly girl on prom night who’s “date” is 5 hours “late.” So I waited. And waited. AND WAITED. I finally got sick of waiting and hassled them via lovely hand written notes. I was rewarded with a second interview. Goodie. I commenced dancing like a trick monkey once more in an attempt to secure a job. Again, interview was all smiles and laughter. And surprise, surprise, I waited.

Would you like to know what kinds of delicious, shiny fruits blossomed from all this waiting? Hmmm? A bit fat phone call from the recruiter saying, “Aw shucks. You’re spectacularly cute and all, but we’ve gone ahead and filled all those positions that we casually dangled in front of you like so much Halloween Oreo. Sorry, Sweet Tits.”

And that is how I got back to square one. Roughly six weeks wasted on banking on this job because they totally freaking offered it to me. I’m hosed! So, got any job ideas? Know anybody that works somewhere that’s hiring? You can tell them that I can suck a golf ball through a garden hose and that I can put my legs behind my head and spin like a dreidel. Seriously, if you hear anything, holla back, young’n.

Oh boy. So now let’s talk about that kinda sorta date I had last week. All right, it started out good. He was really tall and cute and cool. You know, kind of bizarre sense of humor, which is a thumbs up. Then *dun dun daaaaa* he kept drinking. And drinking. And DRINKING. Oh my God. It was unbelievable. He got so out of control that he was like flinging me around on the dance floor and trying to get me to take him home to my parents' house to "hang out." Riiiiight.

So, as the fates would have it, I got too licq-ied to drive home, and I ended up at Cecilee's with everyone else. I told him that he would not be getting any nookie. He slobbered a bit and a drooled on his shirt and agreed that this was "cool." He proceeded to paw at me for the better part of an hour, during which time I pretended to be asleep. He finally passed out and I thankfully fell asleep. So that's the happy ending, right? No. He woke me up yet AGAIN. This time, all 6’8, roughly 270lbs on top of me with a hand on my right ta-ta. Can you say necrophiliac? Hello! So I got out of there. Fast. I ended up jogging barefoot to my car in Cec's jammies at 5 in the morning. Needless to say, I will not be seeing him again.

Alas, my angels, this concludes the first chapter of The Chronicles. I hope you enjoyed them and will continue to do so. Be Bad.

Travel Chronicles Seattle - Letters

Man, I'm Horny

My little granolas,
Oh Seattle. Land of flannel and grunge. (Moment of silence for Kurt...) Too bad I'm not raging with large, unclean hair, a huge sweatshirt, and Birkenstocks to kickin' live music a la Soudgarden. *sigh*

I am too busy chasing my nephew around and slapping my hand over my twitching eye. The family is enough to make the entire left side of my body twitch and for me to adopt a sloppy lisp. (My name is Schummer! Thisch isch my schisiter, sCheschilee. You're schooooo schescxy!!!)

But the Pacific Northwest is very pretty and we have finally escaped the 9th circle of hell that is my aunt and uncle's house. We're in the Four Season's and I just took the best shower. Not a Ginny shower, but close. The shower gel/shampoo smells like the hottest man that could ever exist. I was in there mouth breathing like a cat in heat.

UUUUUUUNNNNH! I like it like that! Whew. But I couldn't seal the deal with my family in the next room, so I am left smelling like a gorgeous man and terribly frustrated. Grrr. So I'll be home Weds, and I think we should all booze this weekend. What do ya say?

w/love,
Sum

Travel Chronicles Vegas

I Said DAMN...God Damn!

Ah, Vegas. Debauchery, diva hair, and deliciousness. I couldn’t love it more. We were so dangerously hot that I’m surprised that so few of us actually did get laid. Morals. *Scoff.* Staying faithful to one’s boyfriend. *Scoff.* But we did get so much attention that it was offensive. Hooray!

We stayed at the lovely the Paris Las Vegas and spent the majority of our days lounging by the poolside. I fried myself to a crispy Paris Hilton red and had to cake on Leslie’s foundation all over my shockingly white tan lines. It was hot.

Amanda and I won $42 at roulette, but only after the freaky dealer made me turn around so he could “read” the Mizzou logo on my ass. Hey. Whatever it takes to sway the dealer, right? And we had awesome dinners at Country Kitchen-esque restaurants. Mmmm mmm! I love me some calico bean soup! I ended our Friday by challenging Ashley’s Best Lap Dance Ever and gave a performance for Amanda that caught the attention of the entire club. It’s so fun to be slutty!

We partied like total rock stars on Saturday at Rain and Ghost Bar in the Palms. Our Sugar Daddy Rick introduced us to his friend who was serious VIP. We were all decked out and breezed past the long ass line like we were in a Quentin Tarantino slow motion sequence. Everybody stared at us like we were famous. Little did they know that we are famous. In my world. While lounging around in the VIP section, we saw AC Slater (that cheating douche face, ) Brandy, and Christina Aguilera. She was way cuter and tinier than you’d expect.

It was such a blast and so scandalous. Scandalous for reasons that I will leave to your imagination, because what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. But wouldn’t you like to know….

Travel Chronicles South Dakota

Gimme That...That...That Nut

I heart South Dakota! Oh my God. You go out with the Fun Crew, and you could possibly keel over from all the freaking fun. They truly live up to their name! We packed up the car and made the trip to Cory and Cec’s home town, Sioux Falls. If only every city could have the beer prices of Sioux Falls. God Bless them.

We spent the first two nights boozing it up at Nutty’s. (Insert infantile snickering here.) I swear, the beers were like Warren’s stein that weighs 13 lbs when full, and they were like, $1.80!!! Needless to say, we got so hammered that the first night, Arti, Cecilee and I stayed up all night and had a full on slumber party in Cec’s high school room, and the second night, I ended up making out with some random guy who managed to piss me off somehow so I locked him out of the house. I am so classy, it hurts me on the inside.

Then we trekked up to Chamberlain, SD, where we stayed with Cecilee’s adorable fam. They seriously built this “cabin” from the ground up. I use quotations because it was actually an amazing house. I guess her poor dad took an accidental 50 ft dive off of some scaffolding, which promptly tipped and fell straight on him. This is a tiny town, so there were no street names for the ambulance to use to find him. After he was rescued and returned to full health, they finally named the street, but Arti and I are thinking that we should petition the city have them change the name from Elm St. to Diamond Falls. Get it! Ha! A Diamond fell! Ah. We are so brilliant!

We spent most of our days drinking Red Beers on the Diamond’s boat. I even leaped into the Missouri and actually swam a bit. It was shockingly clean and pretty that far north. You hop into the MO in Kansas City and you’ll come out with an arm growing out of your ass. Everybody was kind enough to celebrate with me by boozing that night at the local country club. We played the meanest game of Circle of Death ever. At one point, the rule was that no one could speak. When the category of sexual positions came up, we gave the bar a nice show with our x-rated pantomimes.

Aside from Cory nearly slitting the throat of a stupid driver and drinking from their neck stem, we managed to survive the trip without incident. Yay South Dakota!