Gods next task

So, God and I had a fight.  Well, actually, I threw a fit because I wasn’t getting my way. Hey, I don’t think it’s really fair because God is supposed to know what we want and need and he knows very well I want and need a job.  He has let me feed him delicious doughnuts and cinnamon rolls and continued to leave all the work up to me.   I decided he was being a typical man.  He sits back and watches angels fly around, eating the food I serve, and letting me sweat, so I decided not to give him anything this week.  No coffee, no sweets. So there!!

And guess what?  I got my first job offer in six months.  Ha!  I think God decided he better “man up” if he expects free treats.

So, our little spat is over, but I’m sure we will have others because now that have a job in the fall, I have picked out his new task – finding me a suitable significant other.

So, look out single, available, straight men who are not living with their parents or in an insane asylum.  (I realize that still leaves a wide girth of men that will NOT be favorable.  But, I have to start somewhere.) God has armed a cupid or two (or probably a flying monkey) and is picking your name from a Goblet of Fire.

Let the comedy of dating begin… “May the odds be ever in your favor.”


No job God

Well folks, it’s the first week of June and I’m still waiting to hear if I will be teaching in the fall. 

I know you will all be as shocked as I was when I got this e-mail from the school in the Czech Republic. 

Dear Julie,

Thank you for being patient.

I regret to inform you that we will be proceeding with another candidate who has recent experience teaching in classroom with 3, 4 and 5-year-old students at the same time.

Thank you again for your interest and best of luck to you.

Best regards,

Seriously? I am still reeling from disbelief. Was that was the job I interviewed for?  Was I drunk when I did this interview? 3, 4 AND 5-year old’s? 3,4, and 5-year-old children? At the same time?  And, there are actually people out there have done this and are willing to do it again?   I mean really folks, I must have heard that one of the benefits was that I would get a bottle of rum each day just to cope with the madness.  Really, who ever accepted that position is insane or drunk.  Or happily both.

Speaking of insane or drunk, I interviewed for another job in China that asked me to do exactly that – teach 4, 5, and 6-year old’s – at the same time.  Not drink rum all day.  (But wouldn’t that be awesome? Rum all day.  But, I’m pretty sure that job is taken already. Lucky ducky.) 

Seriously folks, where was that little voice that talks you outta stupid shit you think you should do and you shouldn’t.  You know the one, the voice of “reason.”  The voice that would have said to me: “They are small and wiggley. They NEVER stop moving. Or talking.  And they are always sticky.  And, they almost never have money or liquor to share.”  If I had heard that voice I might have reconsidered and become the next American Idol – boom operator.  Are American Idolian’s sticky? Crap.

Hey, here’s what needs to happen; You guys need to pass my blog around, brag about it and get me famous so I can write a New York Times Best selling book that will become the next summer blockbuster, where Nicole Kidman plays me and George Clooney plays God, and save me from the sticky booze-less children. 

In the meantime, I am taking my friend’s advice and upgrading my “gifts” to God. 


That’s right folks, those are two delicious smelling, massive, walnut Cinnabon cinnamon rolls with extra icing.  Now, I was hesitant to dish out the money for these magnificent treats to God because I am pretty sure he will say, “If you can afford goodies like this, chickee-poo, than you can solve your own problems.” 

But, I will have a little faith and believe that God is a slob like one of us, will gorge on these delectable treats, go in to a sugar induced frenzy and start granting all of my wishes like the good God that He is.  And probably get sticky.  Crap.


God – saint, magician or mobster?

So, I’m chatting up God and he’s all ignoring me again.  Total B.S..  Men!

I got down on my knees next to my bed and put my hands together and said “Dear God.  Heeeelllllooooo.  Eh-ehm!!  God are you listening to me?” I looked up at the ceiling.

No response.

I closed my eyes and said “God, I need to talk to you.  I have an interview tomorrow and I need you to give me all the right answers so I can leave the freakin’ desert you dropped me in.  Remember?  I asked for a new exciting life two years ago and you sent me to the Middle East.  You’re a real crack up, God.”

No response.

Then, I remembered I didn’t make his coffee or leave his donut.  I made two cups of coffee (one for each of us), put two Dunkin’ Donut donuts on a plate (one with a big bite out of it.  Don’t judge me, I’m stressed). And started chattin’ again.

“OK, God. Got your goodies set out here.  See?   Listen, I need you to take care of some things for me, Dude.  I need help with the interview questions and I need you to make one of the interviewers tell me that I’m exactly what they’ve been looking for and then ask me when can I start.  You can arrange that, right?  You can make them do what ever you want.  You can “influence” the little people.  Tell them you’ll “protect” them if they do this little favor for you (me). Thank you your Awesomeness. Amen.” I looked back at the ceiling.

Donuts for God

No response.  Is there a game on?

I ate one of the donuts and started crying.   Basically because I’m totally mega stressed over not have a decent job lined up for next fall, but more so because I wanted Gods donut too, but was afraid to eat it because He might not make those schools tell me I’m the best thing that will ever happen to them.

Awww, f@&%  it.  I took a bite of the donut.  And I kid you not, my e-mail “blipped” and it was one of the schools telling me that they have to cancel because they’ve already hired someone – their “dream come true.”  Well, they didn’t actually say that part but I knew they were thinking it.

“Oh, you’re a really funny guy, God.  This because I chomped on your donut, isn’t it?  Well, fine…”  God couldn’t hear the rest of my words because I grabbed that other donut and I shoved the whole thing  into my mouth, bawling like a baby.

I told a friend of mine about my little temper tantrum and stealing Gods donut.  She was like, “Julie, God isn’t Santa Clause. You can’t leave Him treats, expect Him to eat them, and then leave you a gift of your request.”   And I was like, “Ummm, of course not. I totally know that Santa and God are different.  Santa is all flashy in his red suit and braggin’ about the presents he leaves under a flashy tree and shoving trinkets into an old sock hanging on the fireplace.  God, is slick. He does it magically like David Copperfield or a leprechaun or the Mob.”  Uh oh.

I don’t want God to put a mob hit on me or make me magically disappear. Cement shoes aren’t a good look on me.  So, I ran right to Dunkin Donuts and bought two Boston Cremes.  God digs Boston Cremes.  I know if I was God I would dig Boston Cremes.    I don’t  really think God would knock me off for eating a donut, but you never know, right?  Better safe than sorry.  Now they are sitting on a plate and I am going to pray next to them every day until my job interviews are over. Hopefully the donuts will not get any of my teeth marks in them.  Or nose prints.  It happens sometimes.

I have interviews with schools in Czech Republic, Germany, Mexico, China, and Panama.  I’ll let you know if God pulls one “outta the hat” for me or quietly slips a horse head in my bed.  Ewww.

God, otherwise known as “The Comedian”

I have regular meetings with God.  I chat Him up at least three times a week.  I’m sure he would rather I wouldn’t. But, I like to think he stops watching Locked up Abroad long enough to pacify my rantings to him.

I talk to God like he is sitting in my living room. I put a cup of coffee out for him (with cream and three sugars) occasionally a Boston Creme doughnut (which I end up eating) and spill my guts.

Today I asked him to fix some shit.  My life that is. I mean, apparently I cannot manage to get my life in order without a nervous breakdown.

So His coffee and doughnut are sitting on the coffee table (two bites missing from the doughnut) and I’m laying on the floor with tears running down my face and hyper-ventilating with doughnut crumbs on my chin.

I explained to God that I didn’t ask for  managerial role. I don’t want to be responsible for a life (even if it is mine).  I want the job without any responsibilities. I would much rather be doing things like drinking Bailey’s Mint Irish Creme on a daily basis.

But, God gave me the job to manage my life. Without an instruction manual.  He’s a funny guy.  Then he threw me alone in the desert to teach. What the fuck, God?

So, here is the agenda I typed up for God to read over and come ready to answer at our next meeting. I don’t want any of those off the cuff clichés He uses at church like “Trust in me, I have a path for you to follow…”  ‘Cause I’m sure He does have a path for me, but I need to know where it is already. I got shit to do.



1. Dude, I need a teaching job THIS Fall – 2013. In a school with children.   (If you aren’t specific with God, he will play tricks on you. Like he will give me a job, but it will not be until Fall of 2020 and it’ll be in a zoo shoveling monkey shit).

2. I need a job That pays enough money to help me go to Grad school AND save enough to buy a house AND travel AND buy popcorn at the movies. And remember I am a teacher, but will take a writing job, or the title “Queen of Everything”. (After re-reading number one I thought I better make sure he understands that I can be flexible.)

3. This being single crap has to end. I have kissed enough frogs, understand? And as for the men you have put on my path – I think you can do better. Don’t you have a Rolodex full of men that don’t feel the need to talk about the magic in their pants? Or delve out bacon in proposal attempts?  You’re funny God, but comedy hour is up.

CONCLUSION: Thank you for skipping your “shows” to listen to me.  Please do not get together with Satan and come up with anymore pranks until you get the above three requests completed.  Could you make a concerted effort to complete this no later than June 30th.  It would really help me out.  Like I said, I got shit to do – like find that damn path.  Very funny putting me in the desert.  Do you know how fucking hard it is to find a PATH in the desert?  Do you realize how much  damn sand YOU put out here? Yeesh!

P.S.  If you could get me a camel, Bailey’s, and Jolly Time White Popcorn kernels, I promise to leave you alone for a whole month and eat more vegetables.

Thanks a bunch.  You rock!  Amen and all that stuff we need to say so you know we’re serious Christians. 🙂 Peace.   Julie

I’ll keep you folks posted on what he comes up with.