Dream Jobs (seemingly unattainable)

1. Musical Director? Music Arranger?- I'm really not sure what the exact job title is, but I want a job picking the music for films and arranging them to the scenes. Music makes all the difference. Music determines if a films going to be great, good, or just plain bad. I mean I really dream about this job. I'll hear a song and I already see it in in a scene of a movie that doesn't exist. Which leads me to another dream job that I want, film writer/Director. I asked someone who worked in the film industry how would I go about trying to obtain a job like this(Musical Director) and they simply told me without any hesitation,"Dick sucking. Lot's of dick sucking."

2. Film writer/Director.

3. Novelist.

4.Ballet Dancer- Now I know that this will never happen. But remember, this is a list of dream jobs. My obsession for ballet started as a child. My class went on a field trip to see The Nutcracker. It changed my life. As soon as I got home I begged and begged my mom to let me take ballet lessons, but she would always say, "we'll see" which meant "No." So I went to the Library and checked out as many books that I could find on ballet and tried to teach myself. I didn't get very far. So yes, I would love the job of playing the character of Clara from The Nutcracker. Hey, A girl can dream, right?

5. Private Detective- I love solving mysteries.

6. Ghost Hunter- I never believed in ghosts until I lived in an upstairs apartment of an old Victorian mansion that was built in the late 1800's. It was so big, and the entire top floor was mine, and for only $325 a month. It was too good to be true. The very first night I lived there I woke up to what sounded like a young woman saying "Hey get up". The next day I felt very uneasy and nervous like someone was watching me. Never the less I didn't let the strange feeling override my the feeling of complete freedom from finally living alone. But no I was not alone. I actually had a room mate, the worst kind, a dead roommate. Bwahaa ha ha. On my second night while falling asleep I heard the same woman's voice say something inaudible. I open my eyes and I shit you not I see a white ball of light maybe the size of a basketball float across my room to the foot of my bed, and because I'm a flight not fight kinda person I jumped up to run, and as I jumped up the light zipped back into the hall. I just realized that this story could be little long winded so I'm going to shorten the details. Anytime I had a friend of the male variety over to hang out they would always feel someone poking them in the back. One time one of my friends came over and said that while he was walking down the long hall that led to the balcony he felt someone rubbing his lower back. A month goes and I finally see my landlord who lives downstairs and he asked how I liked my place. I said nervously I had some bizarre things happening. He said, "Oh, you've met her!" I say, "who?" And he said, "your roommate, Elizabeth. Sorry I didn't tell you about her. she's our house ghost but she mainly inhabits upstairs." He began telling me the story of her life. In 1890 a wealthy merchant man moved his family to Chattanooga and had the house built for him, his wife, and his twin daughters. In 1910 one of the daughters(Mary Elizabeth) hung herself from the top floor balcony from a jilted love. To make a long story short I only stayed 3 months. It got pretty bad. The last straw was one night my father came to visit. I never told him about the ghost. I guess I thought out of mind out of sight, the less I thought or talked about her the less she would make her presence noticed. My father and I were watching a movie in my living room when all of a sudden my friends guitar that they had left at my house started rocking back and forth. violently. My dad jumps up panicky turns the light on and yells "what was that?" It was then that it stopped rocking. I laughed, and told him that my house was haunted and nothing else was said on the matter. I ended up falling asleep on one of the couches and I guess while I was asleep, the shit went down with my dad. He told me what happened the next morning. He said that the room got very cold, and then he saw some gray black-ish mass in the corner of the room and he said he heard something start dragging down the hall. And then it stopped. That's when he saw her. He said she stood in the hallway right outside of the living room door. she was wearing a white period piece slip and had on tall black boots and she was holding a rope. He said she had long brown hair, brown eyes and bushy eyebrows and she just starred at him, but here's the crazy part, he said while she starred at him he knew exactly why she died and how. and that she was mad because she didn't want me to leave. What the fuck! He told me I had to move and 3 days later he and some of my friends were at my house packing up all my belongings. we all started feeling really sick and decided to leave for a while and come back and finish. Well, when we got back all the boxes in the kitchen were unpacked and there was a pile of boxes blocking the doorway to rest of the apartment. There's a lot more to this story but I will leave it at this. It's easier for me to tell this story rather than write about it. It sounds crazy I know, but I swear it's all true. After this I became interested on what makes people stick around after they die.

7. A photographer for National Geographic.

8. Archaeologist.