This was supposed to be one of those cliché holiday letters that your family would send and receive growing up, but Jessa told me it was a dumb idea — even ironically. Since my so-called friends, who I thought had my back on this one (god forbid they support something I do for the first time in the history of ever), said they don't want to be included, I guess this is just a holiday letter from me, Shoshanna.
They'd better reimburse me for the customized cards I had printed up; I don't care that I paid for them with my dad's credit card. I recently realized that I'm like, painfully close to entering the real world, and it's nothing like it is on MTV. It's kind of a joke that they even call that show The Real World, because what kind of communal living situation has a ton of people shacking up together without cell phones and sharing one portal to the Internet? It made sense in like, 1992, or like, Rent, but it's almost 2015. Of course they all go crazy and sleep with each other and develop raging alcohol problems. What else is there to do?
I would go on about this but not in like, the holiday letter. Plus, you can read all of my well-researched thoughts on MTV's false portrayal of reality in my thesis: "The Zeal World: How MTV Sold a Generation on Lies, Fake Stardom, and False Reality." Unlike glaciology, I did complete that one.
Speaking of my impending entrance into the great expanse of post-collegiate life, it has become painfully apparent the last 22 years have left me completely ill-equipped to do anything practical whatsoever. No one at Starbucks cares that you can relate MTV stars' subconsciously heteronormative performances to Saussurean semiotics and Derrida when you can't even make your own half-caf vanilla chai latte. That's what the manager told me when I applied for a job there. College is pointless.
Anyway, since Hannah, Jessa, and Marnie bailed on what was supposed to be our friend-family holiday card, I'm using this letter to put out some feelers and see if anyone is hiring right now (for my full résumé, look on Instagram). Seriously, I'll do anything. I'm really good at folding clothes and organizing closets — just like Kim Kardashian was before someone at E! saw her and Ray J's sex tape.
I'm also extremely driven and motivated. You can call Neveah at the NoHo SoulCycle for a reference. She'll tell you that I'm always on time for class and frequently make it to the top of the leaderboard. That's the kind of dedication I'd apply to any sort of employment that anyone wants to give me. Seriously, any job at all. My dad says no more credit card carte blanche once I graduate, but the joke's on him because I still have a few more credits to complete. Happy Hanukkah, Daddy!
I wish I had a better way to end this letter, but it looks like four-plus years at NYU have only prepared me for begging. I'm like one of those annoying fake Santas with a bell outside every subway station and Whole Foods this time of year. 'Tis the fucking season.
Wishing you peace and love, I guess, but not goodwill towards men because men suck.
P.S. Please forward to anyone you know looking to hire minions with no real-world experience.