My Life as a Banana

I know, I know. You're all probably wondering what that hideous yellow thing is and why it's hugging a monstrous tetris block. Well, that's how I spent my school day today, dressed up as a giant banana in pajamas. And actually, I came to the conclusion that everything, and I mean everything, is more fun when you are in a banana suit.





So the day started off at 5:30 this morning when I woke up. I decided to put on my banana suit immediately because I was so excited about it, reasonably so. But imagine my surprise when I stood in front of the mirror and realized just how absurd I looked. But hey, that's what Halloween is for, right? Anyway, my friend picked me up at about 6:15 and we got to school ridiculously early. And from the time I walked into the building, every corner I turned I got approximately 23 bizarre looks and at least 6 people laughing at me. But I guess for you to really understand why this happened (and why it was irritating), I need to tell you that there's an unspoken rule for girls at our school: you either don't dress up in a costume, or you don't wear much of anything and then try to play it off as a costume. The guys are the only ones who ever have semi-humorous costumes. So if I were a guy, I would not have received those 23 bizarre looks at every turn, but such is life I suppose.



So everything was relatively boring until lunch 4th period, when I accidentally entered a costume contest. Although, I don't think it really qualifies as me accidentally entering myself, it was more so the people at the table yelling after me "Banana in Pajamas! Come here! Come here!" If only we could still use our iPods during lunch, then I would be able to have my headphones in and pretend like I couldn't hear them, but apparently our school is filled with thieves and (the real reason for the ban) people who blame the school when their stuff is stolen, so that wasn't an option. Now what does signing up for a costume contest entail? Well, first, getting candy and putting your name on a sign up sheet, so I really have no complaints about that... but then they took out the video camera. They whipped it out from God knows where and told me to do something interesting. So naturally, I did a... you know what, I don't even know what to call it. It would hardly qualify as a dance, more like a two second long seizure. So that's great, I'm really excited that that's on tape.



Then came gym class. Gym class in a banana suit? Now that even sounds awesome, and it was, it truly was. I went rock climbing and swung on a rope and looked ridiculous. That was basically my entire gym period. It was perfect: useless, not at all physically challenging, and something my gym teacher wouldn't let me get away with unless I was in, say, a banana suit.

That's me in all my glory swinging on the rope.

K, now let's fast forward to 8th period. 8th period was Comparative Religions, where I, and I do not exaggerate, removed my shoes, turned to face Mecca, and bowed down to Allah with my seven contact points to the ground (hands, feet, knees, forehead). We're learning about Islam right now, and so we had an optional prayer so people could learn how it was done. One of the kids in our class is Muslim and knows Arabic so he led the prayer. It was actually pretty cool, but my teacher couldn't keep a straight face at the sight of me in full costume bowed down and praying. Hey, at least I had my head covered, so I was technically doing that much right as far as prayer for women goes.

Even the ride home was eventful. I turned around to wave to people because I was in my friend's convertible and, well, receiving some very strange and prolonged looks. That is as far as my adventures as a banana have gone thus far, but I'm pretty excited for trick-or-treating tonight. Now what is the moral of this unreasonably long story? Life is better as a banana.

Starbucks

So about four weeks ago I decided I wanted to enter the world of ridiculously overpriced coffee. Yes, my dear friends, I applied to Starbucks. I called the manager to check the status of my application as my father suggested; however, I haven't received a phone call back, and I believe Starbucks has rejected me. In the process of trying to accept that I may not, in fact, be good enough for Starbucks, I have compiled a list of every reason I would be terrible at the job in order to justify not being hired.

Here's all I came up with:
1) Being a Lent, I really have to question my ability to put up with rushed, tired people who haven't yet had their caffeine
2) I also have to question whether the customers could put up with me when I'm rushed, tired, and without caffeine in the mornings
3) I really don't have any interest in people with three paragraph long orders. I mean, come on, who cares if your frappuccino has skim milk in it or not? Odds are, if you're getting a venti carmel frap every morning, the fat content of the milk I put into it is the least of your calorie consuming problems
4) It took me about 8 years to fill out the application, and the majority of that time was spent trying to answer the question "Why do you want to work at Starbucks?" So naturally, after spending an absurd amount of time trying to figure out what to write, I put that I work well in a fast-paced environment.
5) I still don't have an honest answer to that question
6) I'm sure I would spill coffee, knock over blenders, and trip over things whilst holding drinks pretty regularly
7) I really genuinely do not care what you want to drink.... and I also don't care if I screw it up.

So, that said, if they do call and offer me the job I will still be taking it. If they're stupid enough to pay me for a job I can't even do well, I have no complaints.