Unemployment Object Memoirs: A Tribute to Candy Cane

I decided to start writing thank you notes to the various objects that are helping me get through unemployment. This edition is dedicated to candy cane.
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Dear Candy Cane,

I stumbled upon a mint chocolate flavored one of you last week. Mostly because I am lazy and don’t want to search for jobs, but also because of this new “Candy Cane Equality” movement I just made up, I decided to dedicate no less than 72 hours to discovering exactly how you are made. Boy candy cane, I had no idea how brutal the process is! You poor poor piece of candy! You are slapped, stretched, twisted, softened, hardened, pulled and packaged! I must admit that watching this “How Candy is Made” special hosted by Mark Summers was…confusing. I totally thought he died like 15 years ago. Apparently it was just his career. But no matter candy cane – you are being treated inhumanely, and I am going to do something to help you! I am going to get “Candy Cane Equality” t-shirts made! Right after this commercial break.

Candy Cane, at first I thought you were brought to me to fill a hole in my heart (teeth?) after my favorite mojito place in the East Village banned me for life for stealing all of their sugar cane and blaming the owner’s 18-month-old son. Now I realize, Candy Cane, that our purpose in life is something much bigger. With our t-shirts, we will hit the streets, canvas schools, and blackmail B-list celebrities to start an international movement about the cruelties of candy cane abuse! We will be invited to speak at commencement ceremonies of hippie no-name universities, create TV ads that feature 5 white people and one Asian guy in black shirts, and say things like “ironic,” “Twitter,” “tragic,” and “Africa.” We can pose nonsense rhetorical questions like, “Did you know that every year, more than 1 billion candy canes suffer from violence, neglect, poverty, and badly decorated holiday boxes?” Most importantly candy cane, we will never, EVER find a real job.

I hear your concern, Candy Cane. This is a lot of pressure to take on, especially when there are so many other causes, like curing three-footed babies. But just remember why we dedicated ourselves to this cause nearly 13 hours ago – we have nothing better to do. So forget all of those pompous NGOs and foundations that feed people, provide medicine, build schools, and help little Johnny make another fucking documentary about the food industry! We are dedicated to Candy Cane Equality, and we will host our first mixer next week! Mojitos on the house!

I’ll bring the t-shirts,

Mala

Unemployment Object Memoirs: A Tribute to Susy's Mascara

I decided to start writing thank you notes to the various objects that are helping me get through unemployment. This edition is dedicated to my friend Susy’s mascara.

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Dear Susy’s Mascara,

Hi, how are you? You may not remember me, but we’ve met a few times. I’m that odd-looking Indian girl who usually has some kind of processed sugar stuffed in her mouth. Well, Susy asked I write you, as you might have been feeling neglected these past few months. She would have written you herself, but since she moved back to Brussels and speaks to her family in Italian, she just couldn’t find the words in English. We know how uncomfortable things get for you when she speaks another language, being that you are a native New Yorker with no foreign language education and all…

Remember that one time we all went to that club in Hell’s Kitchen and everyone there was at least two out of the three following adjectives: awkward, Jewish, ugly? I vaguely remember – it appears those three shots of vodka and two shots of espresso threw me into a near diabetic coma. But no matter, unless my mind is making up shit again, I remember you being a star! You scored us no cover and like three free drinks a person! Ah, the glory daze. You rocked the house that night, and unless none of that never actually happened, I have not forgotten how capable you are, Susy’s mascara.

Anyway Susy’s mascara, times have been tough for her lately. As you may know, she too has been afflicted with this horrible ailment known as “unemployment.” It seems there are millions of cases reported around the globe. Now I realize you are water-resistant for emergencies involving rainstorms, tears, and Diet Coke explosions, but please understand that even so, you draw attention to Susy’s eyes.

Interviewers often ask questions such as:

-       Why aren't you fluent in Creole, Swahili, Latin and this language we just made up?

-       Why aren’t you 30?

-       Why won’t you work for free?

-       Why don’t you know how to polka dance?

And when this happens, Susy tends to make weird facial expressions trying to articulate sentiments such as:

-       I hate you.

-       You suck.

-       What?

-       I wonder if I brought my brass knuckles?

So you see, Susy’s mascara, any extra attention brought to Susy’s face tends to be bad in these situations. If you could, say morph into a cute pair of shoes, this would enhance your chances of being used.

Susy’s mascara, you should know that Susy is looking to take a job in Africa. Don’t tell her I told you, but there is a slight possibility she will bring you along. Of course, according to National Geographic, there is a sad lack of Jewish nightclubs in Africa, so your skills may be used in another capacity. And by that, I mean you will either be given as a gift to a village woman, or you will be used as body paint should Susy randomly get lost in one of those tribes that Keira Knightly uses for Vogue photo shoots.

So, as you see, Susy’s mascara, your time with her might be limited in coming years. My suggestion would be to scour the interwebs for job listings in Rome, Paris, or some other city that advocates (requires?) make up. If you would be so kind, please pass this message on to eyeliner and eye shadow, okay? They should have fair warning of the impending doom this unemployment malady has waged against the eye make up of the world!

Yours truly,

Mala