Might I suggest this one. You’ve heard me discuss my heart’s reigning homosexual, Claire, on numerous occasions, dear faithful readers. Now you can live with her. It’s a win/win.
Dear Claire, I love you like you love women (but without the sex). Love, Ginger. #claire (Taken with instagram)
This is possibly the most exciting day in my life since whenever the last time I had a promising kiss was.
Why? Because today is my last day in this job! Yes, friends and strangers who stumbled upon my blog after Claire left it open on random public computers around Chicago (because it’s her new guerilla marketing technique to ensure people love me - and I love her for that), I am finally getting away.
Not too far, I suppose, since I’ll be at the same institution, but homegirl is moving on up to a better job and salary level. There will be no more “Is it 5 yet?” posts. No more pity parties wondering what I’m doing with my life. No more lamentations of paper pushing.
I hope.
Okay so actually I’m kind of freaked out to leave the comfort of my first real world job. At least I knew what I was dealing with and, most importantly, knew who I was dealing with. Craziness aside, I have made two of the best friends a girl could ask for in or out of the office; they have been my sanity and my mentors. I know what kind of professional woman I want to be because I had great examples in these women. (And they can drink.)
Once I started taking improv classes at Second City and found an outlet for my creative frustration that didn’t involve second guessing and constant self-criticism (writing can be hard), I resigned myself to a school of thought that has made me comfortably happy in the last few months.
This is not my dream, but it’s a damn good day job. The health insurance alone might make a man ask me to be his domestic partner.
I picked up a drunk lesbian on the street. #claire (Taken with Instagram at Giordano’s)
Having a lesbian who sincerely enjoys building furniture in my circle of closest of close friends is probably the best decision I’ve ever made.
Too much sorority vagina.