Oh boy! Thanksgiving is coming — a holiday based on watching my boring relatives eat their emotions! Which means it’s time for some delicious tofurkey – just kidding; as for all major holiday meals, my family goes to Chipotle.
It’s also the time of year when my family begins its quest of ruining my Disney Channel marathons with inane questions. The worst offender is the “What are you going to do with your life?” query. I usually just turn up the volume on “Hannah Montana,” but if you actually talk to your parents instead of wishing they would abandon you so you can then get adopted by a kindly criminal defense attorney with great hair and live with his WASPy wife and their sarcastic son in Newport Beach, you might need to have a career plan to tell your parents. Thus, I present the list of the only seven acceptable careers worth having.
1. Olympic athlete
No, this is not on the list just because my screensaver just popped up and it’s a menagerie of Michael Phelps photos. Honor code what? Oh, he’s also my desktop background obvi. Anyway, the kid doggy paddles around in a pool for a few years, gets to eat all the mayonnaise he wants and is encouraged to wear more neck bling than Flavor Flav. Sign me up. If you’d like to be more clothed on national television — personally I can’t even shop at the Gap because their clothes are too flashy — then I recommend one of the many more prude-friendly Olympic sports: badminton, trampolining, and — tools rejoice — bocce!
2. Celebrity personal assistant
While I will obviously just submit my resHOOme for the position of celebrity, I’m a lot cuter than you, so you’re gonna need to start at the bottom. As a personal assistant, the job varies a lot depending on which A-lister you bag. With Britney for instance, you’ll be out buying lots of frapps and Cheetos, gluing on hair extensions and airbrushing her album covers. Just remember to “forget” to sign that non-disclosure agreement or you’ll never be able to write that tell-all Jennifer Lopez book.
3. Boutique pastry chef
While my cooking efforts usually end in me eating all the Funfetti batter from the bowl, sometimes true inspiration hits me. Like that one time I threw in some Sour Patch Kids before baking cookies; I knew I could’ve sold those for five dollars each at a trendy bakery in the Hills or Chelsea. Plus, you can always brag about your involvement with the CIA – Culinary Institute of America, but just leave it at the acro and say it’s hush hush no duh.
4. Astronaut
OK, I’ll admit that being a baker is kinda icky. Making food for others? What am I, the help? But if elementary school museum visits taught me one thing, it’s that dinosaurs are awesome. But that’s neither here nor there. If museum visits taught me two things, the second is totes that astronauts eat like kings. And they don’t make any of it themselves! Freeze-dried ice cream comes prepackaged — holler! So you have to mix your own Tang, but I’m sure they teach you how to do that in the 20 years of astronaut training or the 30 years you spend getting that doctorate in aeronautical engineering.
5. Artist
Wait? You majored in [insert your lame poetry, studio art, art history, etc. major here]? Well, I hope, the past four years were great, because I hear Barnes and Noble’s employee discount is only 20 percent. No, just kidding. While you will be making Britney’s personal assistant frapps for her boss, you don’t have to tell anyone that’s your job. No, no, instead you’re an artist. When pronounced, please use extra emphasis on the “tist” with a mild inflection. You should often be found in a super trendy coffee shop or bookstore, musing deep thoughts for your latest novella, watercolor or black-and-white photo shoot. Really, you’re just waiting for your shift to start, but don’t put that part on your Facebook profile.
6. Exotic baby animal veterinarian
So I spend most of my days watching the Puppy Cam. I like going to Clemons with fellow Puppy Cam-enthusiasts and hooking my Mac to the big monitors so we can have big Puppy Cam study parties. When they twitch in their sleep, I realize I love all animals so so so much. As I eat my Chik-fil-A nuggets and waffle fries I got fo’ free (eating meat makes me feel like a winner, because when it comes to the food chain I’m always tops, yo) and watch my Beta fish bang its fishy face against its bowl — just because I set a mirror next to it and it’s trying to fight what it thinks is another fish — my compassion for animals makes me cry just a little. Kind of like the movie “Old Yeller” makes me cry a little. And laugh a lot. Old things are the worst and should thank the hand that feeds them and/or takes them out back with a shotgun. That’s why I only want to hang out with the cute puppies of the animal world. Actually, not even puppies. They’re not exotic enough. I want to ice down poor camel humps in Egypt while singing that Black Eyed Peas song, explain global warming and democracy to the pandas of China and box kangaroos in Australia — it’s not animal abuse if they box back! Most importantly — and you knew I was going to go there — just imagine all the cute Facebook photos you’ll get!
7. Gladiator
It didn’t really work out for Russell, but that’s pre-karma because he later ruined Meg Ryan’s marriage, and she and Dennis were America’s sweethearts before Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes — or Vanessa Hudgens and Zac Efron; it’s debatable. Anyway, the point is, before the ugly, younger Phoenix brother stabbed him, Russell was livin’ the dream: hanging out with exotic animals — but fighting them to death as opposed to the more PETA-friendly veterinarian route I already mentioned — and going on adventures to slay villains.
And if you already made the rookie mistake of accepting a job at some investment bank or an offer for some law school, now’s the time to wise up, son. You think that high salary or whatever is gonna slay villains, cure sea otter cancer or impress Grandpa Austin? The only thing that impresses Grandpa Austin is one of these seven careers and your ability to pass the guac.
Steve’s column runs biweekly Mondays. He can be reached at s.austin@cavalierdaily.com.
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