Your Unemployed Daughter

photo credit: VancityAllie

Today’s post will be short because, let’s face it, you’re probably not reading, so ensconced are you in your multitudinous preparations for a magnificent feast. And I’ve got a train to catch: I’m off to the first New England Thanksgiving (minus M&D) in my family’s capricious and roving history, I do believe.

As always, the freelance life and the holiday life create a strange “vacation vector” in which work has still to be done, and yet, you don’t want to do it because all of the fully employed people have days off. Or, the converse: You have and haven’t had work in ages, so a holiday is just another day to you.

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What if, instead of a not-very-good Sex and the City episode (the one where Carrie freelances at This Old House instead of Vogue and dates Mr. Bigelow instead of Mr. Big), or a media tell-all (The Devil Wears Chico’s), or the even-worse sequel to a very bad middle-agers’ rom-com (Must Love Cats), or a Lifetime drama (33 and Not Even Close to Pregnant), YUD’s life were the plot of a horror movie?

Generally horror is not something I seek out. I have enough tension in real life that I like my entertainment simple: ’50s-era, black and white, good winning out over bad—or, at least innocuous and perhaps even puerile (America’s Next Top Model, Real Housewives, Frasier).

In fact, I have not even seen many scary movies in my lifetime. My very first introduction to the genre was some dreadful bad seed type of TV movie that I stayed up watching with a babysitter (all I remember is the main character electrocuting a relative by dropping a hair dryer in the bathtub, which was about all I could take before running to my room. I had nightmares for the next 3 weeks).

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