Unemployment Object Memoirs: A Tribute to Napkin

I decided to write thank you notes to the various objects that are helping me get through unemployment. This edition is dedicated to Napkin.

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Dear Napkin,

A few nights ago, I made the terrible decision to go outside. You see, Napkin, since I have come under the influence of unemployment, I have lost all ability to properly communicate with humans. Communicating with humans, along with other arduous tasks, such as bathing, eating, moving and breathing seem redundant, as I appear to serve no function. However, my friend made a compelling argument in her text message: U suk. comee out. who iz thiz? Clearly my friend needed me, Napkin, so I decided to do some research on the interwebs to see how to be a supportive friend in social situations/make everyone see how the world has become an utter failure by keeping me bogged down under the influence of unemployment.

After thousands of milliseconds of planning, you and I hatched the perfect plan. Sadly, my text-message “friend” turned out to be a 13-year-old girl in Arkansas, but with all the milliseconds of time we invested, there was no way this plan would not be (poorly?) executed. You were strategically sitting by the bartender, scoping out the scene. I entered through the back, and made a dash to the bar where I collected you. Then, I smelled one of those tiny onions no on ever seems to have in their drink but are always available at bars, and started crying.

The plan worked brilliantly: three people asked me what was wrong and what I thought smelling onions would achieve! Each time they asked, I pulled you out, and with the help of dramatic hand gestures, start drawing complicated diagrams illustrating the very fundamentals of human life and/or where my favorite taco place is. Unfortunately, in my third round of illustrating this mad genius, one of the bar patrons noticed that my diagram did not successfully articulate how the entire world is against me, but was instead, a giant smiley face. F you, Emoticons.

Thankfully, my research on the interwebs prepared me for how to deal with awkward situations in bars. Unfortunately Napkin, this also entailed the death of you. I suppose it’s a bit stupid to write a letter to a dead Napkin, but some would argue it is stupid to write a letter to any Napkin, regardless of its state of living. Still others would argue Napkins do not fall under a category of living nor dead. To continue this debate, please turn to the corner of 2^nd Ave and 23^rd Street, where a lively group of first graders will be happy to discuss this further.

Ahem. Anyway Napkin, interwebs suggested the best way to deal with awkward situations at bars is to either buy a round of drinks for everyone or show how happy and free-spirited you are. As my net worth is in the negatives, I decided to demonstrate my light and airy side. So, I took you and a few of your cousins, ripped you guys up and threw you in the air while screaming “It’s snowing, It’s snowing!” Then, when I had accumulated a giant mass of napkin shreds, I made a bar-napkin snow angel! That showed those bar people, Napkin! In one night, I had demonstrated my cultural knowledge through tacos, my genius through diagram drawing abilities, my emotional depth, AND my fun and creative side! With such a multi-faceted nature, there is no way anyone could possibly think me being under the influence of unemployment is my fault! One woman even offered to check me into rehab!

With a fun and airy attitude,

Mala

Unemployment Object Memoirs: A Tribute to Goggles

I decided to write thank you notes to the various objects that are helping me get through unemployment. This edition is dedicated to Goggles.

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Dear Goggles,

After watching television for fourteen hours yesterday, I saw a commercial for the Microsoft search engine, Bing. As television has become my only form of social interaction since I have fallen under the influence of unemployment, I take television’s advice more seriously than that of my parents, my friends, the Dalai Lama and God herself, Michelle Obama. So, I faithfully changed my default search engine to Bing. However, after Bing suggested a flatbed, moving cart (dolly) when I typed in “Dali,” I figured it was time to go back to Google. Unfortunately, I typed in G-O-G-G-L-E, and stumbled upon you, Goggles.

Goggles, when I saw you, I knew I had to have a pair of you. So, I made my way down the fanciest of all fancy (Target), and picked you up. Now instead of pondering the meaning of my life by computer, I do it in public pools and public fountains, scouring the bottoms for dropped pocket change, half-eaten sandwiches, and expensive cell phones that are the victims of dramatic movie scene reenactments. I may not have a job, Goggles, but thanks to you, I am now the proud owner of 17 broken iPhones, a pepperoni calzone, and a weird rash on my right foot.

Now Goggles, in between my float-time, I have managed the strength to look a few job postings, and have realized one thing: in order to get a job, I must be disabled. Sadly, this “disabled” category does not include impediments such as making bad life choices, being bads aat righting, nor being unable to stomach fast food. However, I figured that near blindness would be considered a disability. You thus serve an invaluable function, Goggles. You see Goggles, the next time I get an interview, I will wear you and pretend you are some special bifocal glasses I need in order to get around. Just for good measure, I will purposely bump into chairs, people, and sharp objects to demonstrate just how terrible my eyesight really is. Then they have to give me the job! And those sweet plastic scissors! Who would reject the poor blind girl who is are write’s bad?

Now Goggles, I understand your concerns. I am in international development and marketing. What if the job requires eyesight? What if the HR rep recognizes you are Goggles? What if I never get another interview ever again? To these concerns, I say this: I don’t fucking know! How the hell should I know what to do!? If I knew what to do, I wouldn’t be unemployed, would I!? Damnit Goggles, stop being such a pessimist. All the other things I’ve done have kinda sorta sometimes, okay, not really worked out! Life is about risk, Goggles. So if this doesn’t work out, we at least have a pepperoni calzone that is virtually indestructible from all that chlorine. And 17 iPhones. AND a rash. Ew.

Where are my Goggles?,

Mala

Unemployment Object Memoirs: A Tribute to Emoticons

I decided to write thank you notes to the various objects that are helping me get through unemployment. This edition is dedicated to Emoticons.
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Dear Emoticons,

After a festive red wine and vitamin D pill dinner last week, I realized that I am still technically under the influence of unemployment. Though I nearly escaped this ill fate twice in the past eight months, small semantic issues such as “visas,” “citizenship,” and “work authorization” have prevented me from emerging unscathed. So, in a moment of semi-clarity, I decided to get strategic on unemployment’s ass and actually research what jobs were in demand, rather than continue my old methods of screaming outside of large office buildings and throwing my CV at UN directors’ faces.

As it turns out, someone thought of making a list of in-demand jobs before me! Who knew, Emoticons!? Right there, sitting at number three was something I figured I could try: miming. Yes, Emoticons, for a glorious 4 days, I became a mime. After calling a few miming companies and describing my passion and motivation to becoming a mime (read: I lied and said I was qualified), I got my first interview! So I put on my best black t-shirt, threw on a fake smile (red paint) and mime-ran out the door!

Emoticons, I was a bit shocked to see the quality of the other mimes when I walked in the door. Half of them didn’t even wear makeup – what poor preparation! Or so I thought. Apparently, Emoticon, mimes are not in demand at all. You know what is? M-I-N-E-R-S. As in data miNers. I guess I should take more than five seconds to read the listings, huh?

Anyway, I figured I should keep the mime vow of silence. Besides, it gave me an excuse to not talk to stupid people. But I wanted a way to express things quickly, since apparently, I am incapable of showing human emotion with my face, and in fact, make a terrible mime. So, I settled on you, Emoticons. This was my first conversation using you:

Woman on Street: That’s a nice jacket, where did you get it?
Me: :-)
WoS: Haha, yeah…it’s nice. Where did you get it?
Me: :-)
WoS: Um, yes, happy, I see that. Do you understand English?
Me: ;-(
WoS: So you do understand English?
Me: :-)
WoS: So are you mute?
Me: :-/
WoS: Oh, I am so sorry! I didn’t realize. That must be so hard. Can I get you anything?
Me: :-) ::points at CV::
WoS: You want a job?
Me: :-)
WoS: Well, I am looking for someone in one of our departments at the Republican National Convention. Would do you think?
Me: x-(

Needless to say, Emoticons, I decided your services should not extend to being a substitute for speech.

Oddly enough, the next day, I heard a story from one of my friends who said their new grant writer used you, Emoticons, to spruce up her cover letter – and it worked! Despite the fact that she has no experience, is a bad writer, can’t spell the organization name correctly, and is an arrogant brat, her use of smiley faces, sad faces, angry faces and whatever the hell this → <3 is impressed the bipolar director, and she got the job! So I decided to try using you too, Emoticons!

At first, I was a little shaky on where to place you, Emoticons. But after a few sentences, I really got the hang of it. I wrote things like, “There are a lot of poor people in Africa. :-( But for every three dumb Americans who watch Fox News, there is one American who cares. :-) This is my favorite organization. I <3 you, Oxfam.”

Just to be sure, Emoticons, I sent a copy of my cover letter to one of my former professors. She wrote back saying:

Dear Mala,

Stop acting like a child. Please see a psychiatrist. :-/

~ Professor White

Anyway, Emoticons, I suppose this means I can’t use you for my cover letters or CV anymore. And I can’t use you as a substitute for speech. So I guess I need to go back to using you as I always have – a way to say, “I’m not paying attention to this conversation.”

With regrets :-( ,

Mala