When the going gets tough, the tough do something other than fantasize about the beautiful life they could be living if only they didn’t make certain decisions.
Job worries, the cost of food, the pops and creaks of age, seemingly endless arguments with a significant other which lead you to wish that you could tear your clitoris from your body and let it loose upon the world to make its own bad decisions for itself, all have led me to compile the Fantasy Employment Choices for Ainsley List (FECAL.)
Enjoy. And feel free to share your own.
Back when I started to go to school at NYU, I had dreams of becoming a screenwriter and penning the sequel to Raging Bull. I had no idea that there were people who actually made sound, and not just in the way that coeds at a coke party make noise. I learned from a fellow student in the film department that there was a whole other profession dedicated to wearing pajamas and acting bizarre, the dark arts of foley. And even if the majority of movies that are currently being released are based on comic books, and strikes compromise actors and writers alike, and CGI is taking the place of actual emotions or thespianship, well, there will always be the necessity for sound, unless silent film comes back in style.
Now, if only I had stayed in Los Angeles and found a medication strong enough to make me unaware of the weather, artifice, and the fact that most people there seemed to regard shopping and tanning as sports, I could have pursued a different career that would have given me a slice of end credits.
While working as a paralegal and covering my tattoos behind blazers, I could never fully understand why I was working in a field where I had no experience, education, or skill. The only connection I had to law was when I followed Callista Flockheart and David E. Kelly’s array of attractive attorneys every week on Fox. Naturally, when I worked for a lawyer, the only future I could forsee was one of words that I didn’t understand and dancing, computer generated babies. Instead I decided to pull a Robert Downey, Jr. and quickly rewrite my way out of the job.
Believe it or not, some schools are actually experiencing teacher shortages, and as for a job with sustainability, I guess you can count on it, ’cause kids are always going to need to get themselves an edumacation. I was accepted into graduate school twice, but declined to attend both times due to a tremendous fear of debt. By now I could have been teaching theater and English to some children more interested in Hannah Montana than learning about Hannah More. But least there would have been health insurance. And, of course, summers off.
I wanted some extra money back when I worked in Manhattan, so I applied for a part-time gig that I read about on a site. The job description was vague at best. My understanding was that it was somehow loosely connected to the adult entertainment industry, and that it was a flexible schedule. I don’t remember the wording exactly. I just remember thinking I might be interviewing to be a working the phones at an escort service, or maybe doing administrative stuff at a stripclub. I knew that there would be “abs0lutely NO NUDITY required!!!1”
Let’s just say that if I had a stronger stomach for syringes and more of a knack for knots, I could be Mistress Ainsley. After all, the economy might be on its knees, but there will always be pervs* out there looking to get on theirs.
Thanks if to those of you who donate! You keep me from making a whole host of other bad decisions.
* I use the term “perv” with kindness. I’m one of those kids who doesn’t mind being called a pervert or a queer. So don’t take offense, BDSM fans, I’m not pissing on your parade, unless, of course, you’re into that.