Sour Disappointment

nononononononononononononononono.nononononono.nooooo.

Welp. What the fuck was she supposed to do now?

As you may have guessed, Liz lost the Globetrotting Beauty Queens Internship.

No, let me rephrase that. liz was SCREWED out of the GBQ.

Exactly as you heard me. Liz's friend J, short for Jackass, completely sold her down the river. This internship was all about connections, and Liz honestly thought that J's past experience there plus his validation of her professionally would help seal the deal.
Let this be a lesson. Never, ever believe that another person will recommend you for something or give you a hand in getting a job unless they tell you so.

Oh wait, he did.

Maybe Liz was overreacting here. She had asked J for a reference. Does that make him obligated to giver her the best recommendation he can for the job? If so, then she was in completely in the wrong. But it was Liz's assumption that if she asked for someone to be a reference for her, that they would actually recommend her for it. If he didn't think she was right/good enough, he should have said,

"Sorry Liz. I can't be a reference because I don't think you fit this internship." It would have sucked, but it would have at least tipped her off.

Or alternatively, if he thought that she was fine for the position, but there were other candidates he thought were better suited, he should have said,

"Sorry Liz. I think you should definitely apply, but as there are only two positions, I have to refer the two best people I think are right for the job." Which also would have sucked, but been a little more professional. I guess.

Allllllll that hard work. All that busting of her ass.

Now she was left with no backup plan (her own fault) and probably no real hope of moving to New York City.

Oh, and the best part?

"I understand where you're coming from, but you need to understand that there is absolutely nothing personal against you. I know you have worked your ass off for the opportunity in terms of learning photoshop and getting up to date on DSLR shooting and editing, and you are more than qualified technically."

To which Liz had responded:
Yes, I have worked my ass off- since I came here two years ago. I did not even have the luxury of a full college career. I have busted my hump to learn everything possible about video technology- not merely DSLR shooting and editing- and ingratiate myself into this school.

And when I’ve worked so hard and gone so far on little more than sheer will, it’s really hard not to take it personally when the door is decisively closed in my face.


PS. Fuck off.

(okay, she didn't write that last part. But she thought it, certainly.)

So what's next for our heroine?

Let's see. Probably this:

http://thoughtcatalog.com/2011/how-to-win-post-graduation/

April Fools

Liz had decided that, should this movie thing ever not pan out (a ludicrous notion, but still), she could always fall back on being a professional mover.

Over the weekend, she (with the help of two art dept. crew) had driven from the bottom of the state to the top and back to the middle, heaving loads of furniture to dress a set, only to strike it all and load it back up 24 hours later.

On the plus side, it didn't look that bad when it was all said and done.

Meanwhile, the current intern at Globetrotting Beauty Queens had messaged Liz. Her note merely said:

"This stays between us. I put your resume in the 'yes' pile. It was a very small pile. You definitely have an interview now."

Liz was ecstatic, but nervous. Liz hadn't heard anything from the internship coordinator about it yet. When was she supposed to find out, she wondered. What if current intern was mistaken? What if there had been another review and they had picked others to interview instead? Liz sincerely hoped she wasn't just being an April fool.

Her friend called J, better known as Kevin the page, offered Liz a place to stay at a house in Brooklyn. Liz readily, fervently, ardently accepted, hoping that his 90% availability guarantee wouldn't fall through. Everything was up in the air at this point, and Liz was 9 weeks away from reality.

Talk about getting everything together at the last minute.

Plan B

No, not like the birth control. Maybe like the birth control.

More like the last episode of 30 Rock, when TGS was almost cancelled and Liz found herself without a plan B. What kind of plan did real-life Liz have for her impending graduation?

So she sat in her favorite coffee shop sipping vanilla latte and listening to Augustana's "Boston" on repeat. She contemplated her life to date and her future (while she was supposed to be doing important work, of course)...

When she was in middle school, she thought she had everything figured out. And then, when she was in high school, she thought she REALLY had everything figured out. And then in college, each year brought with it another epiphany, another "aha!" moment where she was certain she knew the answers to all of life's mysteries and really, truly, had it all figured out.

Boy was she a moron.

Here she stood, on the precipice of a brand new life, and all she could think to herself was:

What now?

It suddenly occurred to Liz that she really didn't have anything figured out; that everything up until this point in time had been figured out for her. She had spent her entire life under the shelter of the education system and now had to start life all over again. The next chapter.

No more summers. No more spring breaks. No more GPA. Now Liz had to come up with plans A, B, and C to ensure her survival in the shark-infested waters of the Real World.

She felt as if she were on the initial incline on a giant roller coaster. She could anticipate everything up to this point- the long line, the heat, stepping up onto the platform, strapping in her seatbelt- but now she was about to experience the ride of her life, full of twists and turns that she would not be able to predict; things that would take her by surprise-

Countdown: 10 weeks.

Gross

Today Liz's simian roommate left uterine blood on the bathroom floor. Liz mopped it up with said roommate's bath towel.

Lemon, Peeled

Did you lose a fight with a belt sander?
Did a lightbulb explode on you?
Did you like, have a nightmare and wake up while a cat was on your face?

These were all questions Liz heard many times on Sunday. The real story was much more interesting.

She had been a horse rider ever since she was eight years old. Her first horse, an evil-incarnate palomino named Midas, decidedly had some sort of vendetta against children and actively sought to kill her, unseating her on average 8 of every 10 rides. But because her trainer blamed the horse's depravity on her lack of equestrian skill, she became determined to learn, above all, how to stay on a horse's back.

It was over fourteen years later that she took a little refresher crash course-literally- in her childhood riding lessons.

Shootout is a weekend event that happens every year at Barefoot University. Groups of students come together to make 3-5 minute films in 48 hours, based on a few prompts given to them by the school.

The genre that Liz's group was assigned was a western, so the team journeyed to Stone Mountain, Georgia (home of Kenneth Parcell). Since a moving galloping shot was required for the sake of the story, and the owner of Stone Mountain was Liz's best childhood friend, she offered her services as a stunt rider and mounted up.

Sure, the weather was not optimal for a hard gallop. Sure, the ground was slick with mud and ice. Sure, she was riding in a tight space between a moving pickup truck and a fence on a hill. Sure, she could have ridden slower or stopped sooner.

But that would have made too much sense. Instead, she chose to hit the patch of mud with a horse running at nearly full speed, which is plenty fast enough to be considered break-neck speed. The last thing Liz remembered was her horse's feet slipping out from under her.

The next thing she saw was sky. It came in fuzzily as she blinked herself back to the world. Then she heard a voice. It was that of her best childhood friend, Rachel Dratch. Rachel, always sympathetic to a grim situation, said the first thing Liz remembered hearing:

"Well, don't you look like a rock star."

Liz gurgled back a response like, "rock on." She tried to sit up, but a pair of hands pushed her down in the mud. Then she heard Jenna's voice.

"You can't get up, hun. You had a bad fall."

Slowly the story came out while Liz was on the ground. Her horse had slipped and fell, throwing Liz headfirst into the road. She'd hit the pavement hard, rolled over, and blacked out for a few seconds. Then she was overcome with a seizure like something from The Excorcist.

At that point, everything went into crisis mode. Pete lunged twenty feet in the air out of the film truck while the driver slammed on the breaks. Rachel grabbed the horse and handed it off to one of the crew members, who took it inside the barn. As he opened a stall door to put the animal away, a miniature horse flew out and ran, bucking, into the chaotic swirl outside.

Jenna would later comment that while she was crouched on the ground, holding Liz still, she turned her head to clear her tears and saw a tiny horse running across her field of view and three crew members chasing after it.

Liz regained consciousness shortly before the ambulance arrived, but with dizziness and slurred speech. So they packed her up and shipped her off to the hospital, Rachel and Jenna in tow. After a few hours, a cat scan, x-ray, and one nurse Ratched who taped her head to the backboard, Liz was released with a fistful of vicodin and a massive headache. She slept well that night and bounced back to work the next day, her scratched face a real conversation starter.

Everyone was glad she was alive, to say the last, and Liz received various get-well presents, including a massive bag of cheese puffs, free calzones, and a box-mask to hide her face.

One night Dennis popped up on IM to ask her what happened. As she told her story, his responses came further and further apart, until she realized that he had lost interest. Ah well, she thought. You just can't make some people care. Those that do are worth keeping around- if only to cash in on the occasional free foods.

"In My Alternate Reality...

Dennis dies and I win the lottery." -Liz Lemon, 30 Rock.

And with an insincere invitation and a nervous (but full) stomach, our heroine journeyed to the Land of the Rat King to participate in a video project for Dennis and his band.

No she didn't belong there. No Dennis didn't really want her there. But the experience was really good for her, so Liz chose to defy all social norms and go anyway.

And face the rat king.

Apparently her presence caught the attention of the other rat, AKA Floyd. An evening of flirtatious exchanges turned into a text after Liz returned home: "Hey can I come over and watch Men in Tights with you?"

Liz was not proud of what happened next.

"Sure." Sure? No! Not sure! Relationship! With herself! No shaving! God damnit.

So Floyd came over and together they watched the hilarity of Mel Brooks. Floyd left the next morning with crumpled jeans and pain in his lower back from falling asleep on his cell phone. Liz briefly considered the situation she had put herself in, then pulled off her bra and fell back to sleep.

Liz was very proud of what happened next.

Later that day, her good friend K, whom we'll call Pete (who is actually a girl but has more balls than half the boys Liz knows) shared with Liz the story of one tired and angry Dennis who was late returning equipment he'd checked out the day before.

Dennis arrived fifteen minutes after his return deadline in a very sour mood. When Pete asked what was wrong, he responded: "Floyd was supposed to help me pack up this equipment an hour ago but he left for some girl's house last night and hasn't come back."

"Gee dude, that really sucks," Said Pete. Her face looked something like the picture.

In Liz's alternate reality, things like this happen all the time. Sometimes, though, it's pretty gosh darn awesome sauce when they turn out that way in this reality every once in a while.

Besides, in Liz's alternate reality, Tracy runs her over with a jet ski.

The Rat King is Real

"Yes to life! Yes to love! Yes to staying in more!"

That's what the 30 Rock Liz said to Jack when it was discovered that she had said "Oui" to the French minister who accidentally married them.

And staying in more was definitely seeming like an involuntary vow that Liz had made. It was the first Friday of the quarter that she didn't have to do anything, now that her movie was nearly wrapped, and she had absolutely nothing to do.

Every interaction with Dennis was becoming increasingly more negative. The boy refused to acknowledge her existence in public or otherwise, but would readily call her to do something for him or fix his film problems. After Liz responded to one such call with the comment that "this has nothing to do with me," He replied rather snottily, "well, thanks for all your cooperation."

And things with Floyd were no better. According to Liz's friend Jenna, Floyd had been seeing other girls after he had seen Liz.

So she went online for her answers.

She googled "rat king" and wikipedia told her the folklore of rats becoming fused together by their tails and even about real-life instances, mostly in Germany.

Liz was aghast. It was true. Dennis and Floyd were best friends fused together in some disgusting fashion, both of them sickening unto themselves.

The rat king was real!

So sitting alone on her couch, Liz realized that she was facing her worst fear- being home alone on a weekend- and discovered that, at the very least, she was cutting herself off from the rat king.

She was free! Maybe she really was a Lemon to her core, dumping sticks of melted butter on popcorn and spilling soda on her sweatpants- but she was free.

No more Dennis. No more Floyd. Liz was going to be in a relationship with herself, where the only bullshit she had to take was her own, and she didn't have to shave as much. This idea was beginning to grow on Liz.