I Really Hope You Guys Find This Funny And Not Just Sad...

Once again, I haven't updated this blog in awhile.  I think I've been waiting for a moment when I didn't feel completely cynical.  That moment is yet to come.  Whatever.  I'll update my blog anyway. 

I've become obsessed with making salsa.

A few nights ago, I was in the kitchen making my own salsa when the phone rang.  I was having an intense moment with the blender and hate answering the phone anyway, so I ignored it.  Unfortunately, my dad ended up picking it up and handing it to me.  "Lauren, it's for you," he said, ignoring the look of utter annoyance on my face.  No one calls me on the home phone except for people doing political surveys.  I took a deep breath and stepped away from my precious salsa, prepared to explain that I will NOT be voting for Mitt Romney.

But the call was not related to politics.  It was a work study student from the college I graduated from.  She was calling on behalf of the university's alumni relations department and politely asked if she could chat with me for a minute.  Reluctantly, I agreed, thinking it wouldn't be so bad.  After all, she seemed nice enough and started by innocently asking if I had signed up to receive the alumni newsletter via email.  No big deal. 

She then recited the address of my parents' house to me and asked if that was still where I lived.  I confirmed with her that yes, that was still my address.  Then she stated that she doesn't have any employment information for me and asked if I could update that for her.  I told her that there was nothing to update.  If I had been in a snarkier mood, I might have told her to write "Starving Artist," but I really just wanted to get through the phone call so I could go back to taste-testing my salsa. 

She asked what my favorite part of going to that school was.  I babbled on about a professor that apparently retired before she started going there, which made me feel old.  There was an awkward pause and I could tell she was turning the page of the script she was reading off of.  Then the rest of the conversation quickly packed itself into a hand basket and shipped itself to hell. 

It went something like this:

Her:  "Now, the second reason I'm calling is because this college is committed to offering a Christ-centered education and is collecting an alumni fund to allow other students to attend this school.  Are you able to donate the amount of $50 to this fund?"

Me: "No, I'm sorry, I'm really broke."

Her:  "That's alright - we understand that times are hard for a lot of people and that you may not be able to commit to donating that amount of money.  However, this college is dedicated to offering a Christ-centered education and takes pride in the tradition of alumni students giving back.  Are you able to donate the amount of $25 to this fund?"

Me:  "No, actually, I don't have any money."

Her:  "That's okay - we understand that not everyone is financially able to contribute that amount.  However, this college offers a Christ-centered education and has a high percentage of alumni students contributing to this fund that helps other students attend this school.  Are you able to donate the amount of $5 to this fund?"

Fiesta time.

What I Wanted To Say But Didn't Say:  "You know that address you confirmed earlier?  You know where that is?  That is my parents' house.  Do you know why I'm here?  Because I have no money!  Did you even look at the date that I graduated?  It was a little over two years ago.  I've spent that time making up for a lifetime of being 'the responsible one' by pursuing an elusive rock & roll career and living in places that don't always have hot water.  If I had more money, I would use it to pay my own student loans.  PLEASE NEVER CALL ME AGAIN."

What I Actually Said:  "Look - I can't even pay my own student loans right now.  I CANNOT GIVE YOU MONEY."

She then offered to pray for me.  Which might have been sincere, but in that moment it felt like the right-wing Christian version of telling me to go @#$% myself.

I told her I needed to get off the phone and hung up after she politely said "good bye."

I returned to the kitchen and drowned my sorrows in homemade salsa. 

I would have rather talked to the Mitt Romney people.