And Then There Were None

Classes, I mean.

No tests, presentations, or homework either. I've only known two types of life: school and mission, and now the more lasting of the two has reached its end. The time has come to embark towards a new frontier, which reminds me, candidates applying for the "Sacagawea" position can e-mail me at cpt.climps@gmail.com. I already called "Lewis" and the girlfriend took "Clark".

After 17 years of near non-stop scholastics, a break of undetermined length brings a weird feeling. Makes sense really, because it's been a weird final year. Dividing my life into a pie chart reveals that the majority of my time was spent among four characters:

1) Nicole, my best friend's girlfriend
2) Maddie, my ex-girlfriend's best friend
3) Jackie, my other ex-girlfriends former mission comp and roommate
4) Brooke, the actual ex-girlfriend

All in all it would appear that if you combined my activities of the last year with the cast above you could make an awkward, if not entertaining TV show of sorts. Unfortunately I've never had the requisite appearance for TV (that or all my model tours have taken place in the wrong malls -- screw you, Valley Fair). Truth is my Iraqi-looks would disqualify me from the majority of available roles. Except for that one stellar circumstance involving the LDS church and the filming of updated New Testament videos. The casting call described the desired candidate as follows: "Preferred features include olive to brown skin tones, notable bone structure, dark hair (gray- and white-haired or balding appearances are fine) and men able to grow a beard." 


Finally, my face had a place. Beard growing? Brown skin? Being bald? I don't know about bone structure, but completing the other three would require no extra effort on my part. I can only imagine how such a performance would've gone over during my next interview.

Interviewer: "Says here on your resume that you recently starred in a movie?"

Me: "Yup, I played the role of Peter alright. Walked on water, cut off an ear, wore a robe, all that good stuff."

Interviewer: "You do realize this is an accounting position, don't you? Personality isn't found on our priority list. In fact we frown upon it."

Speaking of interviews, is there anything worse than searching for a job? On one end you have the interviewee, who is doing his (or her - this is an equal opportunity blog, in case any of my potential bosses are reading) best to beg for something he doesn't actually want (the opportunity to forfeit his free time in order to do work he doesn't enjoy). It's similar to dating in that you have to showcase yourself and beg for benefits except in this bizzaro case you're fighting for an ugly girl to hook up with. Downright unpleasant either way.

And on hand number two you have the interviewer, who has to fake interest in learning about you and hearing your beforehand-googled-and-memorized-responses to a list of meaningless questions because the position is already guaranteed to be filled by the candidate who was the hirer's friend from elementary (Now you know why I haven't blogged for so long. I've been working on being bitter). And so it ends that despite you're intense preparation you are dumped and who ever knew that getting rejected by a girl you didn't really want to be with in the first place could be so discouraging?

I would not have been rejected in my quest to become Peter, however. Only problem is that I didn't try out. Impeding my dream of cinema celebrity and the chance to date Jennifer Anniston stood the ever present quest for a degree. Both tryouts and filming were scheduled to take place during the all too critical summer semester. And so instead of doing something that demanded courage and required responsibility, I fell back on my most trustworthy of all excuses: school.

Is this what you were looking for  my film-making friends?

School has been my protection from doing adult-like things since ... well, when I became a legalized adult I suppose. Why don't you have a job? Cause I go to school. Why aren't you married? Cause I'm in school. Why do you play video games? Cause I'm still a student.

I guess the gig is up now. The answers to all the big questions remain simple but are suddenly a bit cutting: Why don't I have any prospects, you might ask? Because I'm a loser, I might respond.

Maybe I should reconsider going for that PhD afterall.