GLASSES...HOT OR NOT?

My contacts have been bothering me all week. And no, it’s not because I rinsed them with the “burny” solution again. It’s thanks to my college-esque decision last weekend to sleep over in my boyfriend’s co-worker’s hotel room (WITH my boyfriend…no worries). Although I hate to do it, I borrowed someone else’s contact case…ick. But it was that or claw my eyes out the next morning. I chose ick.

So long story short, I wore my glasses to work yesterday and couldn’t help but wonder whether they served to elevate or inhibit my attractiveness in the eyes of others.

The way I see it, it could go either way. Look at Miss Sarah Palin, for instance. When she ran for VP, no one cared about her stances on the issues or how many countries she could see from Alaska. It seemed all anyone ever talked about was how hot she looked in those spectacles. On the politician scale of -5 to 5, she was quite the nickel!

 (Joe Burbank/Orlando Sentinel)

But then there’s the ole’ “four eyes” joke. They say all you really need to know you learned in Kindergarten. Well I beg to differ. I think it’s middle school. Now that’s where the REAL life lessons are learned (e.g., Don’t grab a girl’s boobs without permission. Avoid teachers who throw chairs. When the chocolate chip cookies aren’t hard as a rock or posing a salmonella hazard, buy as many as you can. And last but not least: Boys don’t like girls who wear glasses.)

My boyfriend tells me he likes it when I wear glasses. And for the life of me, I can’t figure out why. Perhaps they make me look smarter, so when “dumb blonde” comments slip from my lips, people don’t think I’m a COMPLETE idiot because, “Hey, she’s got glasses on. She must have a couple brain cells in there, right?” They stop my flirt (that’s for sure) because when I wear them, I feel like an awkward turtle…flipped on its back…with a teletubby painted on its stomach. Yeah, it’s kinda like that. Not to mention, my glasses are always at least two prescriptions old, so I can’t see a thing. (“Uh, is that SportsCenter or Animal Planet?”) OK, now I see why he likes them.

Sure, beauty is subjective, but I wish I could poll the entire world and ask: “Glasses…hot or not?” Until then, it will remain a mystery.

ONE GIRL, ONE CUP

Don’t worry. This post won’t be as repulsive as its title might suggest. However, some content may be unsuitable for children (and/or adults who blush at the mention of bodily fluids – myself included).

So if you haven’t figured it out by now, this post is in response to the “pee test” I took yesterday. (I guess most normal adults refer to it as a “pre-employment drug screening” or something of the sort.) See that’s my first issue with this pee-in-a-cup business. Why not call it what it is? Trust me, euphemisms don’t make the task any less Awkward with a capital “a.”

Case in point…when I arrived, the receptionist asked me if I was “prepared to urinate at the present time.” (She clearly doesn’t know me very well. I’m always prepared to urinate at the present time.) But why the fancy language? I’d prefer they ask me, “Can you pee now?” or “Is your tank full?” or even “Ready to wiz?” At least we could get a laugh out of it.

I answered a meek, “Yes,” and suddenly felt extremely self-conscious, like when I realize the middle button on my blouse is open and have no idea how long it’s been that way.

On second thought, though, “prepared” was a good word choice. Kudos, Ms. Receptionist. And that brings me to my second issue with this pee-in-a-cup business: the tricky timing! How much liquid do you drink? And when? And how quickly? Now I used to be a cross country runner, so I understand pacing. But when you throw in the waiting room variable…ay! I’m pretty sure I only learned two variables in school: X and Y.

My biggest fear was getting in there and…nothing. But as I found out today, the other end of the spectrum might be worse.  That cup isn’t very big. That fill line isn’t very high. My bladder was bursting. You do the math.

And finally, this brings me to the worst part – my biggest issue with this pee-in-a-cup business. Wait for it…handing over the “specimen.” I cringed. I avoided eye contact. In my head, I was thinking, “Dear lord lady, I’m sorry. So sorry. This is gross.” I can’t imagine a male having to take a fertility test and hand THAT over. Now THAT would be embarrassing.

Perhaps I should grow up and realize that this is a routine procedure necessary to keep the workplace safe. But nah, that’s no fun. Awkward moments are my calling.

LOOK MA, I’M EMPLOYED!

I did it! After about a year of searching, applying and interviewing (and feeling like a pathetic, unwanted waste of life…OK sorry, a bit dramatic), I finally received a full-time job offer! And it couldn’t be more ideal. Eek, knock on wood.

It involves two of my loves: writing and editing (no, sadly not Brad Pitt and chocolate, but still). It’s a five-minute drive from my apartment. And did I mention it’s full-time?! I never thought a 401(k) plan could produce so much happiness.

Although I admit that I performed pretty spectacularly in the interviews – probably thanks to my 8:30 a.m. time slot (yes, I’m one of those morning people normal people hate) – I must give much thanks and due credit to (1) Facebook and (2) my sorority. That’s right haters. No more judging Facebook stalkers or sorority girls (ha, disregard my previous post)…apparently they can both pay off (literally)!

Let me explain. One day, I happened to see a status update from a sorority sister who graduated a couple years before me. She asked if anyone was a “somewhat decent writer” and looking for a full-time job in the area. UMM HI! THAT’S ME! It had my name written all over it. So I messaged her to find out more and sent her my resume and application materials that night. She showed them to her boss the next day, and they called me a few days later.

So here I am. I’ve accepted the offer, given my two weeks notice at my current job, and even bought some new work clothes…yippee! Now all that stands between me and a benefits package is two weeks and a pee test (I’ll let you know how that one goes…I have a lot to say on the subject).

The best part is that my mood has lifted noticeably (I mean seriously, we’re talking a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde transformation here). Before receiving the job offer, I felt like an embarrassment to my family and friends. I realized that so much of my identity was based on being a good student for the past 17 years of my life. I was full of self-doubt. And the worst part was I had nothing to look forward to.

Now, I can look forward to rebuilding my sense of self in the workplace. I can also look forward to having true colleagues (something I lack in my current position). And I’m REALLY looking forward to 23 paid days off (even though, knowing myself, I probably won’t use them).

To those of you searching for full-time employment, hang in there. Setting small, achievable goals helped me to keep my spirits up along the way. I believe now, more than ever, that it’s all about being in the right place at the right time. The more people you know, the better (I’m talking to you, Facebook de-frienders). And if you want some reassurance that the economy is recovering, head to the mall. It was packed today!

Wish me luck in my pee test tomorrow.