I'm about to have a "colinasm" explode in my brain.

I am in the middle of getting my resume together, so I can begin the process I've put on hold for too long now: getting a job.

Rachel, Bino, y'all will be happy. Or sad? I don't know which one. But soon, you will no longer be able to use your go to line of, "Some of us have real jobs." Hope you're having fun fasting, schmuks.

I'm not sure if everyone has heard or not, but the economy is not doing well. At all. It is doing horribly. Horribly, horribly not well. And it is at this time that I have chosen to throw my hat in the ring!

Here is a transcript of my current voicemail, if you want a feel for how I'm feeling:


"This is Bayless, who is just wondering if he could have picked a worse time to be looking for a job. Leave a message."


Some people will say, "Now Bayless, if you're really looking for a job, you need to have a more professional sounding voice mail." I scoff at that. There are two markers for me of a full on, bona fide "grown up," markers that I hope to never, ever meet:

1. Tucking my t-shirts into my shorts. Sean Streckfus, my friend from Strake, started doing this when we were 23. Embarrassing.
2. Having a voice mail that states my name, and asks the caller to leave their name and number, after which I promise to call them back. Or something to that effect.

Creative voice mails are intertwined into my identity. I can sell my soul to corporate America, but y'all, if you ever hear me go boring on the voice mail, I give you full license to say to me, "You've changed, Bayless. You've changed."

Besides, I just caved (somewhat) by getting a "more professional" sounding email -- just for work purposes. And by work purposes I mean "looking for work" purposes.

My aunt said that billyparsley@gmail.com was no good. I guess she didn't think employers would be impressed by the story behind my nickname. That would be hard to convey on paper, anyway, without coming off as racist. I was 16; it was my first summer working construction; my first day at work. I was introduced to Victor, a Mexican whose English was okay at best. Victor sweats a lot, and he has very, very strong hands. Here was the opening dialogue in our relationship:


Victor: ¿Como te llamas?

Me: Bayless.

Victor: ¿Como?

Me: Bay-less.

Victor: Baylee.

Me: No. Baylesssss.

Victor: (face crinkling) Baaayyeeeleeece.

Me: Bay. Less.

Victor: Bayee. Lee.

Me: (frustrated, tired of this game)

Victor: Beelee.

Me: Billy. Billy is fine.

Victor: Bílly. ¡Mucho gusto Bílly! Me llamo Victor.


Make sure to pronounce it with the accent over the "i."

I just registered a new gmail account: rbparsley@gmail.com.

If any of you send me an email to that address, I will not answer it. Unless you are offering me money for my services.

That's right, my first name is Robert. It's out there! I am a fake Bayless. I tried to keep it under wraps, but was foiled by some mystery man who already nabbed baylessparsley@gmail.com.

"Taken"?! By who!

Honestly. Who could have wanted baylessparsley@gmail.com? And why? And where does he or she live? And what do you think the odds are that they don't respond to the email I just sent them?


subject: really?

bayless,

MY name is bayless parsley. how is this email already taken? who are you? do you really exist? this is crazy. please write back. i want to know your story.

your friend,

bayless parsley


As Gaylord Focker would say about his portfolio, "I'd say strong, to ... very strong."

Now let's move on to the next burning issue of the day (worldwide short term interest rates, have a seat and take a number).

These things:

What do we even call these things? Who designs them? Who wakes up every morning, showers, has coffee, drives to work, turns on their computer and then designs these things?

And what does this particular one say?

I'm always blown away by how hard some of them can be to decipher. It's like you're playing a video game, and if you want to successfully complete your purchase, or move on to the next level in Email Register III, you've got to get past these things.

I failed on this particular one during my mission to nab rbparsley@gmail. Luckily, I'd gotten enough coins in the earlier levels to have an extra life. The second go round was much easier -- no italics. Which there should never be. If the purpose of these things is to prevent computer programs from wreaking havoc upon our intricate systems that require a password security guard, that's fine. But don't throw one of these at me!




Is that an apostrophe, or an "i"? Does it say "connasms"? "Cormasms"? "Colinasms"? Or something entirely different that I'm just not saying?

Ugh. Why can't I just pray for rain (and extremely hard winds) and cut trees for a living?