For most seniors, this means tis the season for getting big kid clothes for their big kid jobs already promised to them post December or May graduation.
For some seniors, this means tis the season for joint engagement parties in order to receive Christmas china, personalized ornaments and other holiday gifts that will slowly deteriorate over the years, just like their love for one another. Oops?
For few seniors it means tis the season for convincing their parents that graduate school may, in fact, be a good idea after all.
Finally, for the handful of us seniors left, the holiday season means something completely different. Lucky for us, this time of the year means tis the season for explaining to your extended family that with only one semester left, you still have no idea what you want to do with your life or where you see yourself after graduation. This time of the year means tis the season for justifying for the ninety-seventh time why you are still single and why you have no intentions of changing that anytime soon. Yes, we know you thought he was great. But please woman, just move on. It's time. Then, last, but not least, this time of the year means tis the season for forcing yourself to consider graduate school, but ultimately know that the only thing worse than a desk job is a commitment to at least two more years of writing thirty-two page papers about a paper that someone wrote about another paper someone wrote about a study that someone else conducted in 1999. Oh, and just in case you were wondering, NOTHING exciting happened in 1999.
As I muster the strength for my journey home, I must fully prepare for what is to come. Usually I can depend on Bonnie to take the wheel and steer conversations back to topics where Stephanie's participation is not only unnecessary, but most of the time not even preferred. God, I love those topics. Her ability to take any dying conversation and turn into some tearjerking story of a time when she reorganized a student's schedule so they would be able to graduate sooner than they had originally planned has made basically every family gathering a pleasurable one. That, and complex carbohydrates in buffet form.. but it's whatever. Although Bonnie can remedy any situation, some family members still find a way to get me alone. There I am, sisterless, weak and vulnerable to their life questions. My attempts to flee have failed each time. Apparently yelling "Rape!" is only effective in certain situations.
Since I am getting older, I should probably start taking responsibility for myself and own up to my indecisive lifestyle. At least that's what people are telling me. I mean, why not? Hell. Tis the season, right? Rather than looking for ways out of conversations involving my future, I have decided to premeditate possible answers instead. Everyone look how mature I am.
Not.
The next time I do life, I'm going to be more proactive and awesome, I promise. Until then, though, I'm going to deal with what I have and consider job prospects that I am best suited for given my current strengths and abilities.. or agility, rather... I guess. Right?
Career Option #1: Stripper
Cranberry Cream is my name; prudish thrusting is my game. Many people have seen me dance and automatically assume that I spend my weekends wrapped around some pole. I don't know if it's the skipping in place or the pointing that is only suitable for Saturday Night Fever that gave my dirty little secret away, but sometimes people just know. That will be enough, zippers. I don't need anything else that will slow my roll. My conscience will be enough. Buttons? Hooks? Extremely intricate mesh? No, thank you. Anything that will encroach upon my stripping performance is no friend of mine. I have yet to decide if body paint or individually glued on sequins is more my style. White girl problems. Luckily, I have approximately five months to make a final decision. Thank God for options though, right? America.
Career Option #2: Actress
Porn stars are the brightest stars of them all. This is a completely practical job opportunity for me seeing as how the biggest thrills behind my bedroom door thus far in life have been Tetris challenges and rearranging outfits on my mannequin. If that doesn't scream promiscuity, I can honestly say that I don't know what does. I would like to note, though, that there is one small stigma in this stature of acting. Morals? Nah. Impaired vision? Not quite. While eager audiences everywhere would pay big bucks to watch me be me, I have a feeling you can't make tall socks, Tetris and peanut butter more sexual than they already are. Which, unfortunately for you, is not at all. Like, not at all. I mean, we could always try, but one: peanut allergies are way too common these days, two: I don't do laundry and three: you can't just unsee something. In moments like these, you have to think of the kids.
Career Option #3: Pimp
The greater part of my college years have been spent learning to market and promote companies, products, events and so forth. Now that I have all of those down pat, why not try people too? I have a really magical way of persuading people to do just about anything and an even more magical way of making things seem a lot better than they are. You know how you can get something off of Craigslist and then turn around and sell it on eBay for profit? Yea. I want to do that. Except instead of used furniture, antique lamps or vintage Smurf posters in mint condition, I want to sell humans. Yes, humans. I am talking about making monetary profit off of, otherwise free, homeless men. I've begun to assemble captions and descriptions for my loot of men. The ladies will go wild. You just wait. Yes, I said loot. No, I'm not a pirate. Piracy is Career Option #7.
I mean, how could you refuse a man who is described with the following?
- Cyrus hasn't eaten in twelve days, but the emaciated look is all the rage in New York. He's very trendy.
- Get Thomas while he is hot. Here today, gaunt tomorrow.
- Zach is having a garage sale on his legs and everyone is invited.
- Where do bald men keep their secrets? Jerry, here, has only one secret and I guarantee you it is in his box.
- Juan has almost nothing to be ashamed of. Deme tu dinero y tome lo que usted puede conseguir, perra.
- Ramone is like a super hero whose powers are sweaty palms and bad decisions. However, bad decisions will cost extra.
Tell me you wouldn't give me your money. I mean, please. This shit is gold.
Speaking of.. I got my new gold tooth today. Da boyz gonna be all up in my mouth now. What can I say? Cranberry Cream. The best cream of the plant-derived berry creams.