On Vampire Sex

Just like the youth of today, when I was a teen, I was obsessed with vampires. Because before Twilight, there was Anne Rice, and then Buffy and Angel and I ate that shit up like crazy. Immortality. Yes, please. And pale, perfect skin too, of course. What goth girl doesn't wish for that? The idea that a vampire dude could live for hundreds of years and eat thousands of girls and then pick you to want to boink instead of kill? That, my friends, makes you special. And I wanted to be special.

And so when I started watching True Blood, I was kind of expecting it to be the same. Romantic and darkly beautiful. It's not. Don't get me wrong. I love the show. It's campy and gory and it sucks you in. (Get it? Sucks?) But it all changed for me last night as we were watching an episode from last season where Sookie and Bill are having shower sex, and he bites her and the camera pans down her body as the blood mixes with the water running down her skin. And instead of thinking of hot vampire whoopy all I can think is, "That looks like menstrual blood running down her thigh on a heavy flow day."

And poof. I no longer think vampires are sexy.

To my fellow bloggers:

When I'm feeling quiet (a gentler word than blocked) and I have nothing to blog about, I don't like to look at my site. It just sort of sits there looking back at me and says, "Yeah? Whaddaya got to say now, smartypants?" And then I mutter an incomprehensible excuse and go check twitter. And when I don't write, I don't read. Cause you all live on my blogger dashboard, see?  So please don't think I'm breaking up with your blogs, OK? We're just on a break.

But words can never harm me?

I think I've finally realized why I'm having such a hard time finding a new job. It's simple really: I am a complete retard when I get nervous, and I get terrible fear-induced verbal diarrhea during interviews.

The interview at the educational management company? When the guy asked me if I had any experience in an education setting, instead of answering a simple and honest, "No",  Wanda McWordvomit made sure to tell him that my mother, sister-in-law, and several of my aunts are teachers. Um?...

The interview at the super conservative health benefits corporation? Asshat Dorkington III used an ingenious metaphor involving the use of meth to describe how I work under pressure.

Finally, out of frustration and hormones, at the interview I had last week at a financial planner's office, I decided to just say fuck it and be myself and tell the honest truth. Which was mostly working out until he asked me that dreaded question that comes up in every interview, "What is your greatest weakness?" (Eric, usually my biggest cheerleader, actually admitted to a face palm when I emailed him to tell him that I had been honest in answering that question too.) Princess Spazzyslacks  is a terrible procrastinator.

But this is all good, right? The more of these disastrous interviews I have the more things I learn not to say. At this rate I should be interview safe in no time. At my next one I plan to bring up this blog. I bet that'll land me a great job.

Redacted

You know that angry post I did last week? I took it down. For a couple reasons. First, it was a poorly written rant that made me sound like a loon, and second.. no, that's about it.