What a joke.

HAHAHAHAHA = last laugh = mine.

My Resume.

My new resume is officially 2 and a half pages worth of hypocritical bullshit, trying to mask my laughable 1.8 GPA and the lack of a flying fuck on my part with big words and pretty fonts.

Photographer’s assistant? More like running errands (and I literally mean running at speeds no fat boys should ever venture) for my sister for a measly $300 a month. And the e-zine I was writing for? I must’ve forgotten to mention that it’s now defunct, and when I say now I actually mean 9-months-after-the-first-issue-and-not-a-call-from-the-editor now.

So if you’re a potential editor looking for fresh and juicy interns for your publication which would guarentee me a future so bright they’d rewrite ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ with my name in it, here’s what I really wanted to say:

I’m 18, a wreck at large but constantly surprise myself with my professionalism. I do not implicate my life, or lack thereof with work unless you want me to for that depressive, deranged feel. I have practically zero experience in the industry, unless you want to know about the online magazine I wrote for which crashed and burned after it’s first issue and I’m still 30 kg away from being the pointless eye candy whom you’d tuck nicely in a cubicle for your viewing pleausre, which pretty much equates to… I’m more or less fucked. But I am creative. I am so fucking creative that if my creativity took on a form of a weapon, it’d be something nuclear and it’d figuratively blow your fucking brains away. Ditto that about my passion for writing. For words. For boys and sex and collarbones but that’s another story tucked away for another day (if you ever want to hear any of it.) I know blogging is as unique as a stale piece of toast but it’s the easiest and accessible form of expressing and baring myself to the scrutiny of the world wide web and I think I do a fucking fabulous job at it. I am what your company needs, and as much as stereotypes might lead you to believing, I don’t eat THAT much. I hardly eat at all these days anyway.

So in the true spirit of Meredith Grey,

Pick me, choose me, hire me already.

Protected: I can take my eyes off you.

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