I'm Going to work for OPI

This morning, I had a realistic discussion with myself about things I am good at: running, plays on words, drinking, being judgmental, making grilled cheese, starting but not finishing after-parties, story-telling, knowing every reality tv show to ever exist, having photographic memory, brunching.

Things I am not good at: being told what to do, relationships, sleeping in, not drinking to excess, saving money, being patient and non-obsessive, understanding how every friend I have can be so chronically late for everything we ever plan.

So, if you put two and two together, I clearly have 3 career paths, which I have evaluated in order of least to most likely:

3. Owning my grilled cheese and alcoholic snowcone truck.

If you follow me on twitter (@cstanderfer, duh), you may remember some inklings of a food truck conversation.

What started as a joke quickly enolved into a 5 hour conversation, a serious follow up about legality and business investment with my dad, and then an utter fail at any sort of follow through.

The gist was that I would drive a party truck around, serving alcoholic snow cones (under the table of course), grilled cheese sandwiches, and have a party deck on top--complete with party playlists and a water balloon launcher.

I really don't care if you fin this unrealistic, because it's my blog and I can pretend that anything is possible.

Heard of Reading Rainbow much?

2. Charging my friends a flat fee to plan events and parties.

College-roommate Stephanie has already agreed to gold dig make a mutual investment for us both.

She will find a rich doctor and I will move into their pool house and plan parties for them all while pursuing my career as an author.

This is a win, win.

Steph enjoys the finer things in life, while I really couldn't care less as long as I have a pool, booze, and nice running terrain.

And a stove.

To make my grilled cheese.

And maybe a hammock where I can lie while her cabana boy brings us drinks.

Okay, maybe I like some fine things.

I will probably have a long-term non committed relationship with him, resulting in him getting fired 8 months later when it becomes awkward.

Sounds about right.

1. The most realistic of the three:

I am going to apply at OPI and suggest a Texas line of nail polish colors.

I will come to work still-drunk, rattle off a bunch of plays on words, and be home by 2pm.

I made my own guidelines.

I can't imagine they would turn down my application considering I would settle for the same ungodly amount I make now.

 *I do not support the following stereotypes.

**White and black were left off due to my lack of filter from brain to mouth. 

My colors:

Reds:

Red-dy for some football

Redneck Rumble

I red a book....once 

Red River Rivalry

Pink:

Papa's belt left a mark 

Utter-ly pink

This little piggy

Orange:

Texas Longh-orange

Ain't red, Ain't yelluh 

Marlboro Man-darin

I spend my pesos on Queso

Mustard meets Ketchup: the state fair corndog saga

San Tangelo

Yellow:

Marry-gold 

for Steph

The Yellow Rose 

Sister-cousin's a yeller

Fried Butter

Green:

Greener Pastures

Irish I were Texan

Lime for my Tequila

Mmm Guacamole

Gruene Hall

Remember the Alam-okra

Blue:

Light Blue Wranglers 

Hair meets sky

Don't pick the Bluebonnets

Denim on Denim

Rick Periwinkle

Purple:

Steers and Queers

My favorite eyeshadow

Prom Dress Plum

Gray, or is it Grey?

I love my Gun...metal gray

Goodness Graycious Great Balls of Fire

Grayn Whiskey

W meets Barack

NRGray

Brown:

Chicken Fried Steak

I love leather

Dead Grass

Wild Horses

40 in a brown paper bag

So that's my line.

Don't steal it.

It's patented.

And now I'm off to ride my horse to lunch, which is cornbread and beans.

Jk Jk, I'm totally eating a grilled cheese on my truck, obvi. And drinking tequila and dancing to hey soul sister.