Your Unemployed Daughter

Monday 7 pm, Houston Street

All hail the era of recession-drinking, where a shot plus a beer is the same as two slices and a Coke. Or a bottle of milk from the corner store. Which would you choose?

If you selected option A – drinking til you manage to stumble your way home half-blind on one shoe and gorge yourself on street tacos only to wake up two hours later with a mouthful of shredded lettuce and the smell of cilantro in the air – check out this site.

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photo credit: Ana Santos

Ah, back from the beach. Yes, unemployed people do go to the beach. Where else are we to go? The sleeping accommodations, if sandy, are at least free, and the weather (thank you, thank you) has cleared so conveniently that I don’t need even to crawl inside my plastic poncho to avoid the downpours most nights.

It’s the simple life, where all one needs is some stretchy fabric to cover one’s “special” parts, liquid refreshment so as not to dehydrate – perhaps a large iced tea in a styrofoam cup – and spare change for the inevitable beers you must consume else the locals look at you funny. It’s all perfectly wondrous and cheap, but for one thing.

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photo credit: BrownPolyester

The Fourth of July is a true cause to celebrate. Not because of the birth of America and Betsy Ross and flags flying high for freedom and all that jazz.

Celebrate because the Fourth of July is an unemployed person’s holiday!

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photo credit: twen

Are you tired of not having a business card to give to all the men you meet in bars?

Embarrassed to have to say, “Oh, I’m actually … unemployed … um … check out my blog …” ?

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photo credit: Diego Cupolo
Your Unemployed Daughter has adopted some questionable behavior in this, her 7th week of unemployment. I suppose it stands to reason.

She stays up far too late. At first she was blaming it on that Caleb Carr book she was reading, where the psychologist tracks down the lady who kills her own babies, breaking the “natural bonds” of motherhood that every man believes every woman to have, at least in the late 1800s.

Despite that description, it’s pretty compelling. This lady is pure evil, reminding me, in fact (jaunty leather jacket? manipulative shifts from victim to sex kitten to destroyer?) of Whori Sturgess, aka, That Woman Who Fired Me. I’m about 100 pages from the end. It’s hard to put down.

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Unemployment jeans: One week

Being unemployed has altered my daily wardrobe rather dramatically. Where once dresses with cardigans or black jeans with cute silk tops were the norm, now I sit in plaid pj pants and a white V-neck tee. At some point during the day I will change into my workout clothes. That is your indication that I will go to the gym.

Now let’s say post-gym I have plans to meet a former or possibly future colleague, or just to get drinks so I don’t feel like a total shut-in. What to wear? That dress makes me look like I’ve been at work all day. Can’t have people thinking I’m in denial, or worse, a wannabe. That top screams “Look at me, I’m employed!” And those pants … no. I don’t wear pants, even when I do have a job. It’s been too chilly and rainy a June to put on one of my numerous beachy sundresses. And so, inevitably, I turn to THE UNEMPLOYMENT JEANS.

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