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Crystal Ball: Part One

April 13, 2009

As the months begin to fly by here in the Dirty Dirty, I’m realizing that my time here and as a graduate assistant are nearly over. Before I can party and sing some version of “Ding Dong the Witch Is Dead” which incorporates the South, the confederate flag, my officemate and the idiot (it’s a work in progress), I figure I should probably try to find some sort of employment so that I don’t end up cramping my mom’s house with yet another child (that’d make four if you include the cats, which, if you’ve ever heard her try to get them to say hi to me over the phone, you would).

Anyway, you may have heard about this horrible worldwide recession. If not, you are either lucky or recently spoke the words “It puts the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again.” So apparently this whole recession thing means that not only are people losing their jobs at record rates, but also nobody is hiring (although according to craigslist, dudes can “share their genes” for 200 bucks a vial! That’s what I make per week working full time as a grad assistant. Something is seriously wrong with this). Thus, 124 other people have applied for the lone gig that I’ve gone out for. Also hurting my case is the fact that a good amount of the organizations that might hire me are funded by states who have no money to spend.

So, I’m getting out the thinking cap (it looks like this, in case you were wondering) to figure out what I will do with myself when I’m sharing my old room with two cats siblings who may also use it as their bathroom/vomit area.

My first idea I stole from a guy in Hoboken, NJ (of all places) who started playing “Recession Soccer” after he got laid off. Big ups to The Original Winger for posting the story from the New York Times. It sounds awesome…

His solution was the soccer game, part therapy, part exercise, part networking.

He posted a message on Craigslist, e-mailed some friends and waited to see who would show up.

“I knew there had to be other people who needed to take a break from looking at Monster.com and sending out résumés,” he said.

This is clearly a perfect solution for me because (1) I love soccer, (2) exercise is good and (3) I’ve always wanted to be a part of an activity organized on craigslist. Winner, winner, chicken dinner.

Second in this installment is the opportunity to fulfill another lifelong dream: becoming a WAG. One of my favorite footballers (both in skill and hotness), Adriano of Inter Milan/Brazil, is leaving the game for a bit (or forever) because he’s apparently suffering from depression and is also maybe an alcoholic. What, you ask, does this have to do with me, or my potential future of unemployment? Let me tell you…

Ginger: You know what you have to do.
Ginger: Go to him, Cheddar. Be there for him. Adriano needs you.
Ginger: what he needs is the touch of a woman
Cheddar: definitely not these women
Cheddar: I think he’s married though
Cheddar: so that might be a problem
Ginger: yeah but she sucks at her job
Cheddar: anyway, I definitely can’t afford a ticket to italy or brazil
Cheddar: maybe The Special One can pay for it
Ginger: him and his special wink ↓

Fantastic!

Fantastic!

You might be asking, what the hell are you talking about and who is this Special One character? The answers are, I don’t know and the coolest coach in football (clearly).

I want to play soccer in the park instead of working? I want to be a WAG? I love Adriano? I’m waiting to find out what’s next and not knowing is taking me to a whole new level of crazy? Maybe Probably Definitely all of these things.

Ayo! I mean, I can help you with your problems. Posso te ajudar com seus problemas.

Ayo! I mean, I can help you with your problems. Posso te ajudar com seus problemas.

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