Personal Chutes, Corporate Ladders

Now is the season when a new generation of younger and prettier graduates enter the world, and my ability to stay in an entry level position (look away, Mom), is getting more difficult. It's my turn to be on top.

Long story short of more innuendo, I'm going corporate. Yes, you can argue that I've done this before -- and Chicago, I'm sorry -- but this is real. This is like free trip to Disney World real.

Seriously, there's a company meeting in Disney World one month from now. I've taken jobs for a lot of reasons, but this has to be the easiest sell anyone has ever made me.

I have been slaving away, explaining to the brightest minds of Los Angeles what "sautéed kale" means, writing scripts by candlelight, telling myself the only way to follow a dream is to physically hurt from working. I thought it was all going to be OK when a web series I was writing for a friend looked like it was about to take off. Then, I received an email from the producer suggesting I write an alternate forty five page pilot script. To have options.

So when I was sipping the top shelf liquor of a college friend who lives in a beautifully decorated apartment, after my day of "dressing on the side", and he mentioned a job opportunity with his company's LA office, I thought,

"Nepotism? Yes please."

In defense of reality, I did have to impress a slew of people to get this job. But for the sake of a dramatic blog post, pretty people get handed everything and I am gorgeous.

I just think getting a paycheck that's not based on the kindness of tourists and hipsters will be A+.

Now, as I symbolically drag and drop copies of my web series to the trash can in the bottom right corner of my Mac, I look forward to starting the forty five pages of a new script amidst forty hours of a new job. Hand in hand, I will start my LA life fresh, out from under the coffee stained menus of self-proclaimed foodies.

I just want you all to know that you can also have this happiness I found. You just have to move to LA and look like you'd make a great drag queen.

There is no HR in the LA office,

TJB: Making It

Catching the Bug

This cost money.

Every time I go to the doctor, I'm convinced I have HIV. Or cancer. Usually, by the time I've reached the actual appointment, I'm convinced that my HIV lead to the cancer. Once the doctor has gone through my vitals and tells me they're perfect and I'm in great health (considering I lied about how often I drink and workout), I tell him I'd like to be tested for HIV.

That always yields the same response. "Why? Have you done something that would put you at risk?"

I look down at my Forever 21 short-sleeved  shark-print button up with the rolled cuffs, run my fingers through my bleached blonde hair, give him a side-eye and say, "No. Just...gay."

This time, after I spent a week in terror playing phone tag with the doctor, I found out I am fine.

Then I found out I had bed bugs.

And somehow, given that it is 2015 and we live in a generally homophobic nation fighting to fund AIDS research, HIV still feels more manageable than bed bugs. I would also rather tell people I have any disease than tell people I have bed bugs.

You know, I auditioned for Bedbugs!!!: the Musical once. I didn't get that role. I lost to the same guy who beat me out for Julie Taymor: the Musical. Wow, am I glad I'm not doing musical theatre anymore.

This post isn't going to gain me any friends, but if I had an STI, I would probably have a good idea where it came from. But the bed bugs? Sure, I live in an apartment complex where each other unit houses 16 people (though we were told the max is 3) and 4 dogs (though we were told dogs are not allowed), and each of those dogs uses our hallway as a litter box, the blame could still be mine. The bugs could have stowed away in my suitcase from my bougie mountain retreat vacation in a Malibu mansion. But that would really just slap privilege in the face and all hope for the patriarchy would be dead. Or something.

All I can say is that if you have a choice between a manageable STI (and I won't say HIV because that really feels like waving a red flag and I apologize) or having bedbugs, choose the STI. My roommate said gonorrhea is pretty easy these days. The billboards for syphilis don't make it look so bad either.  

Just pray you never get bed bugs. They are an 8th level of Hell that exists right below your mattress. They are what nightmares are made of.

Hello, my name is TJB and I have been bed bug free for six days.

Living in fear,

TJB: Making It