So I was unemployed for a while a couple years ago (and it was bloody FABULOUS, lemme tell ya…).  In the interim, I did some interesting things, like: Nap.  Read (I got a library card, promise).  Catch up on the Netflix.  Travel the world 🙂  Work for the Census Bureau, countin the homeless by night (turns out they pay $25/hr?  who knew!).  Anyway, then this job app came up, and it was perfect…

Wanted: a Ph.D. paleontologist, 30-40 yrs old, fun and outgoing and non-retarded looking, to host a new TV series, à la Steve Irwin, but with dead shit.  And I figured, well clearly I’m a shoe-in.  I mean, there literally is no other human being on Earth who fits that bill!  Anybody who’s made it through the miserable shit-hole hell of getting someone to sign off on some bullshit Ph.D. research is clearly interested in doing something productive and pointful with their life, not in being an unemployed Census-Bureau-moonlighter who secretly wants to  host a TV show about dead shit.  I’ll apply!

So, I applied.  This involved an awkward trip to the natural science museum in which a friend (I love you, Weezie!) captured some truly unfortunate head shots of me, being eaten by a T-rex’s shadow.  They were, indeed, horrific.  Despite which fact, I got a call back?  I mean, a “write-back”.   They love me!  They do!  And, oh shit, they want a video of me presenting something, out in the wild, with a fossil?  I live in Houston, people, there’s no fossils here.   Let alone a “great outdoors”.  And they want this “video” in a week?? But it’s cool, no biggie, I’m going to Austin, TX, for the ACL festival next weekend (that’s Austin City Limits, claro), I did my so-called research there, I know some spots, I’ll just…  film something while I’m in town, you know, when I’m not busy fest-ing, it’ll be fabulous, and my 10 second brush with fame will commence!  Piece a cake.

Everything goes to plan.  My friend Demott drives (I love you, Laura!), and agrees to play videographer, we get to the ACL, music, dancing, disaster, lovely.  Turns out Demott wins: cheap vodka and Sweat Leaf iced tea really do go well together when smuggled into a fest in a blanket.  Blah blah, yadda yadda, and now it’s two days later, about 11pm, I’m alone, dancing with myself to Muse

(may I digress?  I heart Muse.  They are the best band ever.  I feel like a 13-yr old when I discuss them.  In fact, I may actually be a 13-yr old when Muse comes on stage.  True story: a stranger comes up to me in the crowd during this thing, taps me on shoulder, and goes: “wow.  You really like Muse.” To which I respond: “yes.  fuck off.” I mean, I was dancing!)

So now it’s late.  Friend has left to cab home hours ago, I’m ever so slightly befuddled from the aforementioned sweet-tea-vodka concoction / raging out to Muse, and I just wanna go sleepy.  This was not to be, sadly.  Cabs?  Haha.  You ever been to ACL?  There’s a so-called “cab line” and all, but I said “psha! I’m not waiting for that crap, I’ll get one in town!” and started hikin.  Approximately 40 blocks later it was somethin more like “Jesus Christ, I’ll give you my life savings, you wanna rape me?  fine, just take me home after…”  Walk walk walk, I roll in about 1am, we drink on the back patio till fuck knows when, I sleep… somewhere.

Sunday Morning, somewhere in Austin: somewhat bedraggled-looking Intrepid Traveller #1 emerges from a small bush.  Vaguely audible moaning.

I’ll just let this next part roll for itself.  I would like to point out, however, three particularly poignant portions of my fame-claiming video:

1)      “and I’m a paaaaaleontologist!

2)      Did I just fall over?? and

3)      Yeah, that’s it, I’m done.

Nina’s Unimaginably Bad Video Interview: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C_YIuPk7I9Y

I would also like to make it perfectly clear that, yes, I did actually submit this as part of a job interview.  Also, I adamantly maintain that I remain the only qualified human for this job.  Which I’m sure they’d’ve also realized, if I hadn’t made this submission video wearing a music fest armband, still drunk from the night before, wearing the only clothing I happen to own that I thought might even slightly resemble a female Steve Irwin (and yes, I’m been informed, I really do get it, it’s BAD)…