About Me

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I love cheetahs and coffee and opening boxes.

Sunday, April 1, 2012

This is what it feels like inside my head right now:

Let me explain.

I applied for the worst freelance job ever.  I have to write a "viral video" for a 69-year-old woman from Minnesota.  It's for an app and it makes no sense.

So, after I got home from doing this all day with my friend Bridget:

I decided to get to work on my new task!

Yeah. Okay.

When I don't want to do something, I just give myself a ridiculous amount of tedious projects. I went to Walmart twice and Kohls searching for picture frames.  I bought myself new clothes and then went through my entire closet and seriously halved it.

Then I vacuumed my room and dicked around on the internet.

Then I wrote it, drew that picture, and put together this awful blogpost.

That thing I wrote? Worst thing ever. Hooray.  Wow. Fuck this blogpost, I'm really trying to waste my time.



Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Super Serena: Then and Now

I think it's pretty clear that I've always been cool, and awfully super!  But it's really interesting to look through things from my past and recognize consistency between what I did then and what I do now.

I'm not sure if I should be scared out of my mind or happy that some of my habits haven't changed.

I've always written.  Not just stories or in a diary, I use writing as therapy.  I didn't know that's what I was doing when I was 11, but I understood that the world made sense when I wrote things out.  To this day, I feel so much better getting something out of my head and onto paper.  Even if it's just, "Launch SKS website? :) Get yo shit together, GIRL!"

Here are the three types of writing that I find myself doing in the past and present:

1. Self-Affirmation (And the occasional tough love.)

2. To-do lists (Everything goes on the to-do list. "Go to work" is on the to-do list.)

3. Comics (Did you know I write comics sometimes?  And YES, I'm counting comics as writing.)

And before you think to yourself:

Yes. Yes it is.

Let's rip this band-aid off, people.

Self-affirmations, then:

"Serena Raymond   Dear me,  Hey. A reminder that, I should do well in school.  School's important, no matter how boring it is.  Any way, I should always do my homework!  It's very important!  Just so I/you/me knows!  Serena Raymond"

Self-affirmations, now:

"Monthly Goal: Stay focused, do not give up on your ideas. Cool your frustrations. Calm yourself, concentrate.  What do you want?  It's time you work towards it.  It's time you turn passionate. Finish a project, move onto the next. This is your career. Act like it. <3"

I like to think I've gotten more eloquent with these.  Also, I don't have to remind myself of my name so much.

To-do lists then:

"Take polaroid to school!!  Purple.  Downstairs.  Where pants w/ pockets.  Remember $30!  -Serena (10:23 p.m. June 19, 2001)"  [Side note, yes that "alounece" is me trying to spell allowance. I still keep track of my finances like that. I swear I can spell now.]
To-do lists, now:

I now give myself time constraints and get specific with my breakfast.
As a bonus, here's the to-do list I make within the confines of my timed to-do list:

I remind myself to shower.  I am this neurotic.

I've given up signing my name and writing the exact time and date.  I'm, like, really easy-going now.

Comics, then:

"Alien Fund  Donate A Brain"

"Brain Box"  Human says, "You'll love it, changes ya life!"
A "Going in" sign and lots of excited humans.
The alien says, "Thanks for the brain! It will be fully controlled by tomorrow." One human says, "Ok. Ok. Sure!" while the one with his skull opens thinks something to the effect of, "So soon?"
Two exits: "Going out" and "Somewhere"

That "Somewhere" leads to "World Domination."  ....I think.

Comics, now:

Yay for out-of-context pictures from a blog post you've never seen!
I'm not sure my comics have gotten much more intelligent.

So, for the past 11 years I've essentially been doing the same things.  Though, with a few minor exceptions, I've been doing these things better.

After making this post, I have answered one of my childhood quandaries.  I totally understand why boys didn't like me in middle school.

I don't think making these pictures made me seem like much of a catch:

I'm not captioning this, it's just strawberries killing people.  Fucking go with it.
To sum up.  Me, then:

Me, now:

Eleven years in between.

Sunday, January 29, 2012

The Time I Accidentally Worked at a Sex Shop

To ring in the new year and to make up for the fact I have not been doing much blogging, I'm going to go deep into my story arsenal and pull out one of the stranger (and more embarrassing) moments in my life.

It was early 2009 and I really needed a job.  I dropped off resumes at approximately ten locations.  One of them, which I was really excited about, was the Halloween store at the mall.

The man who owned the store was one of those people who stared a tad too long as you spoke to him and didn't have much to say in response. After every word that came out of my mouth during the interview he just looked at me for a few seconds. I took this as a cue to speak more.

Because of his mild and somewhat creepy responses I was surprised when he offered me the job.

During the interview he mentioned owning a store one level lower, Sweetness and Lace. I had never gone into the store and had no idea what it was. Like a good interviewee, I pretended.  I should have known from the name of the store what type of merchandise was sold there. In fact, I should have gone down stairs and checked the place out.

Guess what? I didn't.

From here on out I will refer to the employees as Creepy Owner, his Pregnant Girlfriend, the "I'm not racist" Racist Girl and the Apathetic Twins.

My first day working there I was in the Halloween Store and met the "I'm not Racist" Racist Girl who who proceeded to tell me about her boyfriend who hates black people.  

The apathetic twins were about as responsive as Creepy Owner.  They had worked for him for a few years and I think his creepy, silent tendencies eventually wore on them.  

It's possible my questions were dumb, but that isn't just cause to stare at me and walk away.

Creepy Owner hardly ever spoke to Pregnant Girlfriend.  Watching them interact was a lot like watching me try to talk to my cats.  

So, this brings me to the sex shop (sigh).  And I'll tell you my absolute favorite story from the entire time I spent working the store.  

I was downstairs working in Sweetness and Lace when some woman dragged her loser boyfriend into the store.  First, they look through the merchandise on their own.

Finally, they ask my advice.  

Immediately I walk them over to something I'd deem "classy sexy."  It was conservative and not pink.  It sure as hell wasn't crotchless panties.  This was the lingerie she was looking for!

I picked up another item.

Eventually I just started point at things.

This is about the time I decided to quit.