Dross into slightly more impressive dross

So, I was offered an assistantship last night at this libertarian dinner where I was passing out nametags last night. All hail the overwhelming power of open bars and little black dresses! I looked at the job listing online today and I'm totally underqualified in actual work experience but overqualified in every single other way (mostly just brains and tits). So now I get to spin my lackluster cv into something that will inspire this company to not just junk it as soon as I send it off. It's odd: the person who needs the assistant wants me, but I still have to apply through head office. Christ. How do you make "can tactfully shut up obnoxious DC bigwigs so other people can get things done" sound like an actual skill and not some sort of mind-control thing? I want this job but I'm afraid if I got it I'd just stay in DC next year.

And on a more personal note, I ran into JP, who wanted to take me out to dinner when I was still dating the ex-Boy. I was rather a cad to him but he still wants to, which rocks. He has the most badass job in the world, lobbying against manditory minimum wage, and is cheerfully amoral about it. And he likes it when I talk about books. And he's kinda cute in a very clean-cut way (his shirt sleeves were the proper 2/3s of an inch longer than his jacket sleeves and he always wears red socks. He had a pocket square and didn't look too faggy. Tall, dark haired. Swoon, girly, swoon.).

Bad plan or AWESOME PLAN?

Dearestes, I have a blind date to see LCD Soundsystem. With a complete stranger. I am very excited that I am not paying for a $50 scalped ticket (though I'll attempt to buy him drinks= price of ticket so he won't expect a beej) and also a bit excited that this may be a ploy to murder me in a back alley (not in a fun way). If he does murder me, I've got his name and phone number so you all can revenge-kill him for me. K?

But in case he doesn't murder me, what does one wear to a pitchfork-approved danceparty where one's ex-boyfriend is almost guaranteed to be while escorted by a stranger?

Same as it ever was

So, dudes, how are you? And how is Canada? And that Justin Trudeau thing is a sign of the coming end times, right?

DC redeemed itself somewhat last night- I found a bar with $1 beer during happy hour. It may be Bud, but it's a freaking dollar and a couple $1 Buds after a $4 double Wild Turkey (the bartender used to work at the M&S too) are not to be sneered at. And I met a delightful lady journalist who snarked about how Roll Call has gotten nice instead of being all petty backbiting. But I can't wait til my people are back in town. Although I saw punker Dave (D.'s house/bandmate) at the Metro station- some people never leave so you can miss them. He told me I should come in and see D. but I staggered home instead. But I think the goal for this summer is no ex-boyfriends. I can get drinks with them, I can go to shows with them, but if they try to touch me or tell me how lonely they are I will stab them. Possibly.

And can someone remind me that I get really angry when I try to read Umberto Eco? Because I just read The Mysterious Flame of Queen Loana and it made me seethe for about 18 hours afterwards. Pop culture references are a thoroughly obnoxious way of exploring personal memory. You think the title would have tipped me off as to its quality, but Mom liked it and I was bored. But I shouldn't let boredom influence too many decisions. I do, but I shouldn't. And that is why I've got a date for Saturday. Here's a fun party game: guess his profession, the instrument he plays, the last big city he lived in, and his ethnic and socioeconomic background. J-points to those who score high.