Monday, July 28, 2008

I'm not a Designer. I just play one on TV.

I just had an epiphany.  Okay, that’s not true.  I don’t even know what that means.  For all I know, it could be a style of jewelry.

But in my dumb dumb vocabulary translation, I’ve come to realize something.  I suck.

Now before all of you go and agree with me before I even finish...

Scenario 1: “Yeah, Fob you do suck.  You are the most unreliable friend I have...”

Scenario 2: “True.  You’re such a dirty ho.  I don’t know how any girl can trust you...”

Scenario 3: “You do.  I’ve never seen anyone get a C- on a HIV test...”

Scenario 4: “Oh!  Yeah!  Keep sucking my...”

Let me speak!  Or write!  Whatever!!!  You see I’ve been a working professional for eight years now as a graphic designer.  Straight out of college I started working.  Sure, at first, I was pretty green.  Didn’t know how to turn on my computer or even know which person to sleep with to move up the corporate ladder.

But in the past couple of years I learned a few skills, gained a lot of confidence, put out more than my ass can handle, and have become delusional in my work abilities.  Because the truth is I suck.  

Being the big fish in a small pond has distorted reality around me.  Here I was thinking I was good when the truth is I’m a second rate hack.  It’s hit me like a ton of big pixellated, motion blurred, drop shadowed bricks.

So what do I do?  School?  Freelance?  See if my corner is still available on Sunset and Highland?  It’s hard as Hades to find another job right now.  And I’m not exactly the most marketable person.  So what should I do to advance myself aside from going back to being a street walker?

Did someone say... Design Hooker?!?!

Fob: “5 dolla’ make ya haller!  For 50 bucks I offer strategic planning in branding,

print, web design, and electronic media.”

I’m screwed...  Literally!

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

Where's my Olsen Twin?

I’m sweaty.  Tired.  And sore.  And better yet, I’m all of these at work.  The good news, it won’t affect my promotion.  The bad news, I’m more likely to get fired or demoted anyway.  I’m sure they’d move me into a fluffer or whipping boy position if they had one.  So my whole thing with being offensive aromatically is my way of getting back at them.  Not that anyone cares.  So sad...

Still, today I feel somewhat accomplished.  I arrived at work environmentally friendly.  Today was the first day I rode my bike into work.  That’s right ladies and gentlemen.  Tour de South Bay started this morning as I was awake much earlier cruising along with the ocean breeze in my face, cycling my way to work.  

Today I am a do-gooder of nature.  Damn you oil companies!  Damn you terrorists!  Damn you cool sail looking hotel in Dubai!!! For I will not contribute to your extravagant lifestyle.  Nevermind, that I drive an SUV and rev my engine wasting fuel and adding pollution just because I like the way it sounds.  I am now a professional cyclist!  Lance Armstrong and I are now one of a kind.

So I’m ready for my benefits.  I’m not quite sure on this but I heard one of the perks of not polluting the environment was getting your very own Olsen twin. 

I don’t know which one he has and which one is available but if I ge to pick, I’ll take the one that’s anorexic.  It’ll save me the trouble of making her feel bad about getting fat.

Me:  “Hey.. Mary-Kate Ashley Christina Jessica Ronnie Bobby Ricky Mike.  You look different.  Is that only three ribs I can count on you?  Hmm... Yesterday I was able to count four ribs.”

Olsen Twin:  “Really?!?! Excuse me.  I have to use the restroom...”