I'm trying to update my resume to include my most recent work experience.I went back to the kitchenware store today finally to pick up that paycheck I mentioned, and I foolishly didn't think to ask the manager if I could list her as a reference ... and now the store is closed, so I'll have to call tomorrow. I have no idea what kind of a reference she'd give me, really ... I mean, considering she gave me a "talking to" regarding my sales skills on more than one occasion, but damnit, the only references I have so far are my dad and a teacher I had two years ago. It doesn't look good.
I've decided to look for a job waitressing this time around, because I'm beginning to realize I really dislike retail. At least, I dislike being a retail minion. If I had my own store, now that might be a whole other story ... it's one of my possible aspirations for the future, I suppose (Ugh. I hate words like "aspirations" and "future" .. well, future used in that context, anyway, as in "You've got a future ahead of you" .. vomit. I know, I know, I'm just brimming with positivity, aren't I?) ... but I haven't thought it out enough. Anyway, as I was saying, I think I might not mind waitressing quite as much. It would be nice to get tips, and I've always thought there was something about waitresses ... ah, but never mind my quirky little fantasies.
THE PENIS LAMP
OK. So we have this lamp. My mom got it over a year ago when we still lived in Burlington. It's on the desk beside me as I type this. It's just a small lamp with a glass cylinder in which you can put a candle. It seemed innocent enough to me, until one day last year Ben was over, and asked, upon seeing it: "So what's with the penis lamp?"
As soon as he said that, I saw exactly what he meant ... but I wouldn't have noticed it on my own. Neither did my mom, apparently. But ever since that day, I have never been able to look at that lamp the same way, and I'm always expecting guests to remark on its phallic appearance. So far, no one has.
Anyway, I'm going to show you some pictures of it, and you can tell me what you think ... is this innocent, or not?
Aaaaugh! It's coming right for us!
What do you think ... coincidence? Subconscious Freudian fantasies on the designer's part? Or was it deliberate? I just don't know.
Either way, it still amuses me.
Um yeah, this is the end of the entry.
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