I feel like Im the worst so I always act like I'm the best

Anyone who has talked to me in the last 5 months knows I am job hunting.

 This is not like a "father-son-weekend-hunting-trip".

I am on a "backpacking-through-freaking-Africa-and-living-off-of-what-I-kill" job hunt. 

I genuinely haven't had time to wash  my interview outfit that's how often Im wearing it. 

Side note I love my interview outfit - Maroon peplum with black high waisted skinny slacks.

Thanks GEE-DUBS.

I dont even get nervous for job interviews anymore. 

I treat them like a day job.

I wake up and Im like "Another day in the office"

My neighbors must think I have a really grown up job with how often Im leaving the house in business clothes.

"Britanee has really established herself!"

Thats the idea....

Today's interview tale.

I sat watching a national geographic story on polar bear attacks as the man next to me (a fellow interviewee) fell asleep and softly snored.

A man who was had just been hired and arrived for training came in and explained to the girl next to me that the position being hired was a phone sales job.

*eye roll*

No thank you.

The receptionist runs over and pipes up "Alright, there are many positions, dont scare them away"

Darn right!

So now I am convinced this is going to be a waste of my time, again.

Finally, my name was called, and I shuffled up the stairs (of this surprisingly fancy place) into a small office with inspirational posters.

My interviewer was a large black man with a friendly smile.

We're talking Michael Clarke Dunkan like.

Now, me telling you this black an had a friendly smile is completely unnecessary.

And I will tell you why.

I THINK ALL BLACK MEN ARE SO FRIENDLY.

I think its a combination of my ghetto booty and my experiences in NYC that have made me more comfortable with black men than white men.

I could be in an abandoned parking lot at 3 am and see a large black man walking toward me and think "Im so glad that man is here, he will protect me from any danger"

If I am in a room full of no one I know, the first people I will talk to are men. 

Preferably large.

Preferably black.

That is the scale by  which I sort my socializing.

Its because they remind me of my brothers.

If someone looks like Taylor, I will instantly feel comfortable talking to him

And....we all know Andrew is Keenan Thompson's white counter part. 

I literally cant watch SNL without missing Andrew.

CONTINUING WITH THE ORIGINAL STORY.

So he asks me what Im looking for and I say something personable and fast paced, preferably hourly wage, not commission.

He begins to tell me about a commission position where I would have the potential to make 1000$ a week.

He then tactfully says "Well, you are very attractive, so .... you would do well."

Lets just talk about how that is the new theme of my job interviews.

I had no idea how much money I could make due to my above average face.....

I dont think Im breath-taking-ly beautiful, but I know how to do my eye make up and brush may hair and you would think any girl could master that....

But let me just tell you the job hunt brings out a lot of ugly girls.

We're talking girls who use charcoal pencils for eye liner and think a banana clip and scrunchies constitute a hairstyle.

Honey......

Im not joking when I say that today is not the first time I have been informed of how much money I have the potential to make due to my aesthetic.

I feel three things when I hear this and Im going to use percentages to describe their dominance.

Degraded 1%

Flattered 48%

Debate Cashing in on my looks while I have them 51%

Does that add up to 100%?

I dont know, but I dont have to know, because I could make a lot of money with how attractive I am.

You can stare at me all you want, but don't ask me to add up numbers....

Im not even going to pretend I dont love hearing it....

At this point im just like " come one....say it....lets not tip toe around it"

Of course the interview goes great because I am comfortable with him and there's lots of laughing and Im trying really hard not to say "OHHHHH CHILD"

He then tells me about an administrative position (WHICH IS WHAT IM LOOKING FOR) with bomb pay.

He asks me how many words per minute I can type and I reply " I dont know the exact number, lets just say in Facebook instant messaging , NO ONE  can keep up with me"

"So....maybe 25-30?"

"No, no, no. Much higher"

"Ohhhhhh girl, Im gonna write 45-55"

"Thats a safe bet"

He liked me lots and told me he would hand it over to the hiring manager for administrative.

It was NOT a waste of time.

SO that is today interview tale.

No porn involved.

I'm not inclined to resign to maturity

Im pretty stinkin overwhelmed so I wanted to post some angsty facebook status but then I remembered thats really stupid.


So im writing a blog instead.


Im getting D's in my classes.


That has never happened in my life.
The worst part is that its not that im slacking, its that the classes are very internet dependent and its causing all theese silly issues.

Whatever.

Guess I gotta sweet talk my way out of it.


Still on the job hunt.
I got another job, but it turned out to be porn, so I quit.

Lots of interviews next week, but now I am scared they are all porn.




List of things I have no choice but to do:

• make a salad and eat it
• clean the shower so Olivia will stay my friend and wont run away from my house screaming
• take 3 quizzes that i didnt know existed due to very poor communication
• clean my kitchen so Olivia will stay my friend and wont run away from my house screaming
• go buy new sheets cuz mine are ripped
• try and make that sound less sexual
• give up on trying to make that sound less sexual
• look around
• think about how much I want to move to NYC

So. I oughta go start that.

Ive been sleeping here instead

So. For spring break I went up and visited my sister and her family in Portland for a weekend trip.

I got on the plane like I always do, sat down and through the space between the seats in front of me peeks this tiny little chubby blonde.


I smile big at her, she giggles and scoots back where I cant see her.

The flight ends up getting delayed and so as mechanics fix our plane (which - side note- is the worst possible reason for a plane to be delayed, because then Im scared the engine will break in the sky) we have time to kill.
After many minutes of peek a boo, she finally pops up over her seat and pipes "WHATS YOUR NAME?"

"Britanee. Whats your name?"


"mmmmannmmy"

"Sorry?"


"MADY!" she replies excitedly


I tell her its nice to meet her and she replies with "Whats her name?" Pointing to the middle aged woman sitting next to me.

The lady next to me responds "Christa. But you can call me Chris"


Mady then turns her attention to me.

"How many pounds?"

"Im sorry?"

"How many pounds?"

"You mean how much do I weight?"

Mady nods excitedly.


"I weight 150 pounds."


This seemed to suffice for Mady and she then turned her attention to Chris "HOW MANY POUNDS?"

Chris smiled and answered "ohhhh 126 , last time I checked"


"How much do you weight, Mady?" I asked

"I dunno" She replied.


I asked her How old she was .

She replied with 4 little fingers held up at me.

Her dad (whom I had reassured I was not bothered by her consistent questions, in fact I was encouraging them) prodded her to tell me her birthday


She replied "SEPTEMBER 11TH!"



"What a great day for a birthday" I responded slyly.


"Yeah, its kinda sad" Mady responded

"No, no. Its your birthday and so for you it is happy."

I have some really funny material for birthdays on September 11th, but Im saving that or my stand up.


Then I asked her what she wanted to be when she grows up

"A MOMMY!"


"Thats a good thing to be" I told her.

"ARE YOU A MOMMY?" she asked me

"No I am not"

She nodded and her follow up question happened to be "DO YOU HAVE A BABY IN YOUR BELLY!"

"No I sure dont."

"DO YOU WANT A BABY IN YOUR BELLY


"No manm"

"ARE YOU SURE YOU DONT HAVE A BABY IN YOUR BELLY?"

"Unless you know something I dont know, Im pretty sure Mady."


She was not satisfied with my string of answers, but I was.

Mady went on to ask me many other questions, such as my foots name, Chris's foots name etc.

She also asked me to hold her hand. And I did.

Cuz i freakin loved her!

Throughout the flight she would turn around and say "Are you ok, friend?"

She was too precious.

I saw her with her parents in the terminal as I was walking towards my car, and I was actually oddly sad Id never see her again.

I got a thing for the funny ones man.

My kid better be funny or I wont love it.