I've come to a very important realization today: What I want and what the Universe wants will forever be entirely different things. I want a job as a stripper, the universe makes sure my place closes down three months after I get there. I want work with big name studios, the universe is to make sure I don't have a shot in hell. I want a fucking boyfriend, and the universe goes out of it's way to ensure that every meth-addled queen this side of Oz can land themselves a man but me.
Well fuck it, I tried. I am now surrendering to fate and all that shit. Obviously, no matter how hard I try, I will ultimately fail in everything I do. So the hell with it, if the Man Upstairs is gonna yank my chain, I might as well go along for the ride. If that means actually getting some work with big name studios, then hell fuckin' yeah to that. Point is, I'm not gonna fight it anymore, because apparently, no matter how hard I try, I still manage to fuck up. I'm like The Little Engine That Could, only replace "Could" with "Tried and Couldn't and Then Crashed and Burned in a Horrible, Fiery Explosion That Killed Everyone He Ever Loved".
Best title for a children's book EVER.
Well, it's been three months since I tried applying to pretty much every studio out there, and so far I've had a whopping zero responses on all fronts. I'll try again when I get back from Toronto, and if that doesn't work, well...Oh, who am I kidding, I'll probably just try again after that too. That's getting fucked over by the Universe for ya: It's crap, but for some reason you keep coming back for more. Whoopee.