I called 2 Music places: one of them said they'd hired their people 2 weeks ago. The other had me talking to an employee, the same one who took my resume and then handed me off to the Manager. "Are you availible anytime to come in?" he asked, and I said, "Yeah, anytime". "Would you be willing to come in for a chat today around 3pm?" Next thing I know, I'm getting a ride from my dad to the mall and entering the store. I saw both the employee and employer at the main cash register, spotting me as I entered. I imagined her saying, "There she is, the one who looks like she belongs in a reggae band. Hope she don't smoke the ganja".

I doubt they actually said that though.

I shook the hand of the employer, an Asian fellow who looked like he'd never heard of face cream or body lotion: dryness and wrinkles galore. He had to drag another chair into his closet-sized office where I sat across from him, almost knee to knee. He did most of the talking, luckily. I hate the typical "Why do you want to work for our company?" and "List 3 adjectives about you" questions: I never get those jobs. Ever. He wanted me to tell him a little about myself, and as I rattled off some acting experience like it were no big deal, he supported it, saying that, "Hey, it's experience". I was his first interview, and he'd just recently let another girl go who wasn't working out. I'd say I have a 75% chance of getting the job, but I've felt this way before getting the rejection call, letter, or no response at all. "Well", he said as he looked at my resume, "It looks like you do have retail experience and you have a good resume". That was so reassuring: my parents were convinced that I was doing something wrong, that my resume was the reason for why I wasn't getting hired. They were bringing out doubts I already had, but they magnified them with their own. I'll find out in about a week, and if I don't hear from him, I didn't get it. In that case, I never phone, since it's a guarantee they'll tell me themselves or they'll avoid me like a student loan creditor.

I'd gotten a call from my actor's union, since I'd sent them an email; they needed volunteers for the Festival of Lights parade this saturday, and I'll be on one of the floats in a costume. I have to arrive after 3:30pm, since the person I was talking to is coming from a funeral and needs some space to gather herself before celebrating a frivolous parade putting her grandfather's death behind her for a the rest of the day.

Now, the important question: what will be done about Rocket Romano on "er", since that helicopter fell on him, and his last words were, "Nooooooooooooooo!", and then splat!