Bar-flies Beware.

So it's not breaking news that I've had my share of awkward encounters. I'm also not the daintiest, or most graceful girl--I dropped out of ballet after five days at the ripe age of 7. I tried my hand at gymnastics, only to discover that I was not only freakishly tall for a 9 year old, but apparently a little too heavy as well. I can tell you from experience; it was incredibly difficult to do a back-hand-spring when you fear not only that your jolly-green-giant stature is going to prematurely hit the ground, but that you'll also accidentally snap the instructor's petite frame in two. Then there was also that other move. The Split. Or what I like to call: "Satan's cruel joke for long-legged, pre-pubescent husky girls". Once my groin, legs, and undeveloped hips had twisted into some weird combination that resulted in getting my body down onto the floor, (in increments of multiple jarring, bungling movements,) the chances of me getting back up into what they called "ready-position" was basically next to impossible.

"Courtney, do you want to try another round on the bars?" 

"Uhhh nope. No thanks coach, I think I'm good just like this."

Needless to say, I never really made it back into "ready position." While I clearly never excelled in the realm of back-flips and the high-beam, at least over the years I learned I could run, skip, jump, and walk like a normal human being without crushing or maiming another person. Most of the time. Sure, I've had my moments where I've tripped, run into a sliding glass door (or two), but I would have liked to think I could generally walk in a straight line without physically hurting a fellow walker. Well, this assumption changed last week. 

Around a year ago, Sean and I started going to Kahuna's in Deerfield Beach on Wednesdays. The fat kid inside me loves the insanely delicious wings, and the indebted-for-life-recently-graduated-student in me loves the insanely cheap drinks. The specials start at 4pm, and so like two hungry pit bulls who have just spotted a quadriplegic bunny rabbit, we usually descend on the beachfront bar & grill at around 3:58pm. There's a little surfboard table outside where we usually claim our territory and post up for the rest of the evening. 

"We'll have 20 wings, 10 Kahuna flavored, 10 Teryaki. And an order of fries. And 7 PBR's. And everything behind the bar and in your kitchen. RARRRARRRAR!!"

At Kahuna's, the people-watching is phenomenal, and usually every week we get at least one memorable character who would be worthy of their own biography on A&E, or at least a cameo on The Jersey Shore. It never fails. (One fine fellow affectionately refers to Sean as "O Captain my Captain" and told me I would be better off as a stewardess on a boat, because of the big, pearly-white chiclets in my mouth.) We're usually the ones watching, not the ones who have somehow made a spectacle of themselves. However, on this fateful day, one little unsuspecting blonde patron had no idea that one of these two pit bulls was about to (unintentionally) be ALL. UP. in her grill.

About half-way into a fun yet uneventful Wednesday evening, nature called, as it so often does once you start drinking, and so I figured I should probably answer. As soon as I began walking (a straight line, mind you), I realized nature wasn't just calling. It was more like nature had become that psycho ex-girlfriend that was calling, texting, and pressing *67 and then calling again. 

ring ring. RING RING RING. RING RING RING!!!!

I was somehow tactfully (and very quickly) maneuvering my way through this crowd of people when I heard someone call my name from the bar. At this point, my mind understood that my whole body had to slightly pause in order for me to turn my head and acknowledge whoever had shouted my name. But apparently, my legs didn't get the memo--they kept moving since they had sensed the, ahem, impending urgency.

Here was where it all went downhill. so. very. fast. As my legs continued walking, my head caught up with the situation that I had to keep my eyes on the prize. I quickly turned my head so I could be looking where I was walking, so as not to run into my fellow bar-goers. Unfortunately, that is EXACTLY what I did. This poor, unassuming blonde girl had just moved directly into my line of fire. But not only did I nearly trample this girl, our foreheads collided in a swift, violent way that could only be described...

as a full-throttled HEAD-BUTT.

I had quite literally just headbutted another girl. In the animal world, I'm pretty sure this is how fatal fights typically begin. Luckily, we were both too stunned to engage in any kind of battle. And even luckier for me, said girl was three-sheets to the wind, and just died laughing where she stood. I was still incredibly mortified, and had begun to apologize profusely...but then nature began to violently push the re-dial button. By the time I had gotten the words "OHMYGODI'MSOSORRY, I'MACLUMSYMORON" out of my mouth, she had stumbled her way out of the front door, and my legs had moved me toward the much-needed destination.

I was pretty much traumatized for the rest of that evening, and was terrified to go back inside: I had the fear I would either A) accidentally assault someone else with my forehead B) run into (no pun intended) the same little blonde girl I had slammed with my big head earlier that evening. From now on, I will always look where I'm going, and make sure all body parts are accounted for when doing so.

5 Most Common Phrases a (Recent) Graduate Student Does Not Want to Hear

Let me just preface this post with a) I haven't blogged in about a year (oops), and b) if you are one of my friends and/or family members who have used one of these following phrases, do not fear. I know you are asking in my best interest and you want to know how things are going. Plus, most of these questions are from acquaintances, friends of friends, etc. Either way, I will not come at you like a spider monkey--I have just simply noticed a common trend in the kinds of questions I have received in the last 2 months since I was released into the wild world of post-academic life.

That having been said, here are the 5 most common phrases (or questions), in descending order, that I have encountered over and over again. Most Importantly I don't want this to be a post that makes you scared to ask me how things are going, it is supposed to be funny (I hope) and I've found that other graduates have experienced similar situations, and I promise I'm not actually getting upset! If anything I'm thankful to have friends and family who are checking up on me, so take this with a grain of salt :)

5. "Oh my gosh CONGRATULATIONS! So where are you living now?"


Here is the exact moment where I fight to completely steal Nick Swardson's "well I live with my roommates" schtick from Grandma's Boy. Instead, I swallow a little bit of my pride, and say "Well, I've moved back home and I'm living with my mom for the time being." Hey, times are tough and I have graduate school loans coming back to me. Unfortunately, I'm starting to think that "moving back home" in this generation tends to connote ideas of Will Ferrell or John C. Reilly in "Stepbrothers," where these fine gentlemen, well, never really leave the nest.

Yes, I am living with my mom. But at least I don't have to share my fancy sauce.

Trust me, I've left the nest-- about three times since I was 14. Instead of the baby-turned-big-bird that never leaves the nest, I like to think I'm more like a full-sized falcon that just migrates for a couple of years at a time, and happens to fly back to home base.

"I'm just brushing up on my interview techniques"

4. "So what's next? Are you going to be like that guy on CSI, or that little Asian guy on Law and Order: SVU that analyzes criminal behavior?"  

    

In short:     

                

Nope.

And nope. 

Trust me, there's a reason they're TV shows. But after awhile, I've just stopped saying "nah B.D. Wong is a Forensic Psychiatrist who works for the FBI. I haven't gone to med school, and I only have my Bachelor's in Psychology." 

Now I just say, "Exactly, and I work with Benson and Stabler."

*I only use that one if I don't think I'll ever see that person again, or at least within a time frame where I'll actually have a job and we can laugh about it in the future. That is, if they don't think it's an awful joke/think I'm living in a fantasy land where I report to Captain Cragen every morning and have coffee with Detective Munch. 

3. "Oh, well have you sent out any resume's?"

Nope, I'm just waiting for my awesome, dream job to fall into my lap. I go to career fairs and resume-builder workshops just to pass the time and enjoy the free punch and delicious pecan sandies. I don't know if anyone reading this is currently in the process of the job-search, but sending out resumes is kinda like throwing an old-school boomerang. I have yet to meet a person who can legitimately throw a boomerang and have it come back to them in a perfect U-shape the way it does in cartoons. My depth perception, (in combination with my awesome dexterity), would usually result in the boomerang just flying in some awkward direction, or getting caught in a tree, never to be seen again. If anyone has seen me attempt to throw a frisbee, it's kind of the same deal.

I'm pretty sure this is where my resume's go^

(The caption on google images was literally "the boomerang eating tree")

Trust me, the resume's have gone out. Sometimes I am just curious if they are actually reaching the employer, or if they are just getting sucked into a black hole somewhere in the universe-- possibly to the same place where my missing socks that I thought the dryer ate seem to go.

2. "Don't worry! The economy will turn around. If anything, there's probably MORE crime now since the economy is so bad."

This gem usually comes after the awkward back-and-forth where you explain you don't have a job yet. At this point the poor soul asking me about said job has probably noticed the beads of sweat rolling down the sides of my face, the fact that my mouth is as dry as a bowl full of cotton that's made out of hay, and they are trying to pacify me after they've realized that 5 previous people have asked me the exact same question in the last 20 minutes. I've heard this one so many times I think my mom my roommate is going to start following me with a poster-sized board that just simply says: "CHANGE THE SUBJECT!" Either that, or maybe she'll just start breaking into cars around the neighborhood with a crowbar to make me feel a little better. Sometimes you just need a little visible evidence that there is indeed crime.

"Don't worry honey, there's a TON of crime in this neighborhood! just look out your window at your car!"

1. "How is the job-search going?"

This is usually the first question. This one is also the doozie. Chances are if you're talking to me on the phone on a Tuesday at around 2 pm, I'm still searching. Asking someone without a job how the job search is going is kind of like asking a guy in a sinking canoe without paddles if he has installed his twin 165 Evinrude motors yet.

"Where's that woman with the crowbar? we could use that as a paddle, right?"

Ok, so that's a little dramatic. I am not sinking. But I think anyone who has been in the job-market recently can tell you--this economy stinks a little right now. I scoffed when one of my graduate professors snickered at the idea that I didn't want to stay for a doctorate. He rolled his eyes, laughed, and simply said "Wow, well let's hope this economy turns around for you." Well, I'm staying optimistic and keeping my head up. The hard work will pay off. But if you happen to notice a woman in your driveway who resembles my mom, breaking into your car with a crowbar and knocking out your headlights--don't fret. She's just simply trying to keep her daughter's roommate's career full of promise.