Thursday, March 08, 2007
Yet another blow to my dreams of modeling
Because grad students make no money, I'm always on the lookout for some easy extra work to subsidize my alcoholism. My mother is also on the lookout on my behalf, because when extra work is hard to come by, she ends up arranging yet another specialty interest-free loan from the Bank of Razzy. She called me a while ago to tell me that she'd pimped out my services professionally to one of her friends.
My mother is an ultrasound technician by trade, and one of her favorite ultrasound-manufacturers is a company that is hilariously called Siemens (and yes, it's pronounced "semens".) I'm always making jokes to her about how she takes classes to improve her handling of Siemens probes and how she thinks every radiology department should have Siemens machines in them. I've covered this topic with her so much that at Christmas she actually dug out a t-shirt that says "You can't afford to gamble on your ultrasound purchase--INVEST IN SIEMENS."
Anyway, Siemens apparently hires models for ultrasound conferences to demonstate their superior ultrasound equipment, and they pay like $150 an hour. My mom gave me some woman's name and insisted that I e-mail her to offer my services. After all, my mom has scanned me a zillion times (when I was a kid and she was getting some new certification, she would practice on me and my little brother), and knows that I'm comfortable with it. In the course of doing all these abdominal ultrasounds on me, she has established that I have a "textbook pancreas." It would be easy money for me to just lay there and let the Siemens people demonstrate on me. Since I was talking to my mother, I refrained from any cracks about how I'm also accustomed to having Siemens all over my torso. I told my mother, "What does this involve? Because with my luck I'll end up on the vagina machine."
"Oh, Razzy, I doubt they do public demonstrations of the transvaginal probe. Besides, that's usually for pregnant women....you aren't pregnant are you?"
"No! I just don't feel like having all the people at the ultrasound conference getting a weiner's eye view of my cooch and female plumbing."
"Razzy!" I don't know why my mother is shocked any more when I say shit like this.
"Well, I don't! I'll do abdominal, or vascular, or an echo, or even breast, but I don't want to spend the day in a pair of stirrups."
"Just e-mail the Siemens lady and find out if there are any modeling jobs available. I'm sure you won't have to do anything besides pull up your shirt."
So I e-mailed this woman and finally heard back from her about modeling. The response was negative. Last night I was talking to my mom on the phone, and the first question was not "How are you?" or "Are you busy?", but "Did you hear back from the Siemens people yet about modeling?"
"Yes, Mom. They e-mailed me back last Friday and rejected me."
"Why? Do they already have enough people? Did you tell them you're used to being scanned?"
"Yes, Mom, I totally sold myself. I said that I have no modesty or shame and that I am an old veteran of being ultrasounded for demonstrative purposes. I even bragged about my sexy pancreas."
"Well, what was the problem?"
"Gender discrimination. Not that it's surprising given their name, but Siemens is biased toward men. They only hire male models for their trade shows."
"I wonder why that is?"
"Probably so nobody has to see my offensive tits when they're trying to do show their Doppler heart valve thingies on their echocardiogram machine."
"Razzy! It is a conference of medical professionals. I don't think they find the sight of breasts offensive." She had a somewhat accusatory tone, like it was my ideas or uncouth behavior that discouraged Siemens from hiring women.
"Well, it wasn't my idea not to hire chicks. That's just their policy for this upcoming conference, anyway."
"What about other conferences besides the one coming up?" I could see where this was going. My mom wanted me to pester the Siemens model scout about future work.
"I don't know, Mom, she said she would keep me in mind," I replied. The Siemens rep had said that, but given that this is one of the greatest blowoff lines of all time, I wasn't particularly hopeful. "What else am I supposed to do? I'm not e-mailing her every day to ask if there's another conference coming up. She knows I'm interested and she has my contact information."
My mother sounded slightly crestfallen. I wonder if she thought that, in addition to me hitting her up for less extra cash, she'd be able to boast in her office break room that her daughter is a Siemens girl. I guess Siemens is the Prada of ultrasounds, and getting paid to let them image my internal organs is the equivalent of a runway show at fashion week in Milan.
"I'll tell you what, Mom. Next time I'm home I'll go into your office and you can scan me and we'll shoot a portfolio. Then I can get an agent, and hopefully I'll be America's Next Top Ultrasound Model."
"You're making fun of me, aren't you, Razzy?"
"Just a little. As you know, I use humor to disguise the pain of being rejected. I have to make jokes to compensate for my crushed spirit pursuant to having my dream of being a Siemens model cruelly snatched away."
"Stop it! I get it, I get it."
"Don't worry, Mom, I can make money on the side other ways. I have that part-time job as an technology analyst for the university's patent office, and any day now my website will take off."
"So anyway, what are you up to now?" she asked. The quickest way to initiate a subject change with my parents is to act like I'm about to start telling them about my website. My mom read it once in summer 2005, when it was basically nothing but a review of a 50 Cent album and a biography page, and there were too many "f-words" then. Fortunately, at that time she swore off reading it ever again, and now pretends like it doesn't exist, because I shudder to think what she would say if she decided to catch up on my blog archives.
In any event, I'm too short to model based on my external features and too female to model based on my internal features, so it looks like I must placate myself with dreams of what it would be like to use my legendary features selling Siemens machines while I toil away doing virology research. And on that note, I have to go to lab now.
My mother is an ultrasound technician by trade, and one of her favorite ultrasound-manufacturers is a company that is hilariously called Siemens (and yes, it's pronounced "semens".) I'm always making jokes to her about how she takes classes to improve her handling of Siemens probes and how she thinks every radiology department should have Siemens machines in them. I've covered this topic with her so much that at Christmas she actually dug out a t-shirt that says "You can't afford to gamble on your ultrasound purchase--INVEST IN SIEMENS."
Anyway, Siemens apparently hires models for ultrasound conferences to demonstate their superior ultrasound equipment, and they pay like $150 an hour. My mom gave me some woman's name and insisted that I e-mail her to offer my services. After all, my mom has scanned me a zillion times (when I was a kid and she was getting some new certification, she would practice on me and my little brother), and knows that I'm comfortable with it. In the course of doing all these abdominal ultrasounds on me, she has established that I have a "textbook pancreas." It would be easy money for me to just lay there and let the Siemens people demonstrate on me. Since I was talking to my mother, I refrained from any cracks about how I'm also accustomed to having Siemens all over my torso. I told my mother, "What does this involve? Because with my luck I'll end up on the vagina machine."
"Oh, Razzy, I doubt they do public demonstrations of the transvaginal probe. Besides, that's usually for pregnant women....you aren't pregnant are you?"
"No! I just don't feel like having all the people at the ultrasound conference getting a weiner's eye view of my cooch and female plumbing."
"Razzy!" I don't know why my mother is shocked any more when I say shit like this.
"Well, I don't! I'll do abdominal, or vascular, or an echo, or even breast, but I don't want to spend the day in a pair of stirrups."
"Just e-mail the Siemens lady and find out if there are any modeling jobs available. I'm sure you won't have to do anything besides pull up your shirt."
So I e-mailed this woman and finally heard back from her about modeling. The response was negative. Last night I was talking to my mom on the phone, and the first question was not "How are you?" or "Are you busy?", but "Did you hear back from the Siemens people yet about modeling?"
"Yes, Mom. They e-mailed me back last Friday and rejected me."
"Why? Do they already have enough people? Did you tell them you're used to being scanned?"
"Yes, Mom, I totally sold myself. I said that I have no modesty or shame and that I am an old veteran of being ultrasounded for demonstrative purposes. I even bragged about my sexy pancreas."
"Well, what was the problem?"
"Gender discrimination. Not that it's surprising given their name, but Siemens is biased toward men. They only hire male models for their trade shows."
"I wonder why that is?"
"Probably so nobody has to see my offensive tits when they're trying to do show their Doppler heart valve thingies on their echocardiogram machine."
"Razzy! It is a conference of medical professionals. I don't think they find the sight of breasts offensive." She had a somewhat accusatory tone, like it was my ideas or uncouth behavior that discouraged Siemens from hiring women.
"Well, it wasn't my idea not to hire chicks. That's just their policy for this upcoming conference, anyway."
"What about other conferences besides the one coming up?" I could see where this was going. My mom wanted me to pester the Siemens model scout about future work.
"I don't know, Mom, she said she would keep me in mind," I replied. The Siemens rep had said that, but given that this is one of the greatest blowoff lines of all time, I wasn't particularly hopeful. "What else am I supposed to do? I'm not e-mailing her every day to ask if there's another conference coming up. She knows I'm interested and she has my contact information."
My mother sounded slightly crestfallen. I wonder if she thought that, in addition to me hitting her up for less extra cash, she'd be able to boast in her office break room that her daughter is a Siemens girl. I guess Siemens is the Prada of ultrasounds, and getting paid to let them image my internal organs is the equivalent of a runway show at fashion week in Milan.
"I'll tell you what, Mom. Next time I'm home I'll go into your office and you can scan me and we'll shoot a portfolio. Then I can get an agent, and hopefully I'll be America's Next Top Ultrasound Model."
"You're making fun of me, aren't you, Razzy?"
"Just a little. As you know, I use humor to disguise the pain of being rejected. I have to make jokes to compensate for my crushed spirit pursuant to having my dream of being a Siemens model cruelly snatched away."
"Stop it! I get it, I get it."
"Don't worry, Mom, I can make money on the side other ways. I have that part-time job as an technology analyst for the university's patent office, and any day now my website will take off."
"So anyway, what are you up to now?" she asked. The quickest way to initiate a subject change with my parents is to act like I'm about to start telling them about my website. My mom read it once in summer 2005, when it was basically nothing but a review of a 50 Cent album and a biography page, and there were too many "f-words" then. Fortunately, at that time she swore off reading it ever again, and now pretends like it doesn't exist, because I shudder to think what she would say if she decided to catch up on my blog archives.
In any event, I'm too short to model based on my external features and too female to model based on my internal features, so it looks like I must placate myself with dreams of what it would be like to use my legendary features selling Siemens machines while I toil away doing virology research. And on that note, I have to go to lab now.
Labels: America's Next Top Model, family matters, science, vanity
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FYI - Every professional who monitors Siemens (globally) on Google Alerts just had this emailed to them.
Good luck with your modeling career.
Good luck with your modeling career.
# posted by 
: 3/08/2007 12:07 PM
: 3/08/2007 12:07 PM
Yeah, we all just read all about your obivious insecurities, overall bad attitude and suprisingly low maturity.
Good luck with your blogging career ... I am sure it will get you far! Looks like if you spent more time doing sit ups than blogging, your likelihood of having a modeling job would increase. Best!
Good luck with your blogging career ... I am sure it will get you far! Looks like if you spent more time doing sit ups than blogging, your likelihood of having a modeling job would increase. Best!
# posted by : 3/08/2007 12:31 PM
: 3/08/2007 12:31 PM
Wow, it looks like I've incurred the wrath of every Siemens employee using Google alerts. In spite of being "professionals", it looks like they are both incapable of detecting sarcasm (with regard to my dreams of modeling) and ultimately can't do any better than the usual "you're fat and ugly"-type comebacks. Lame.
You'd think these fools would have a better sense of humor given that they work for a company called "Siemens."
You'd think these fools would have a better sense of humor given that they work for a company called "Siemens."
Lame is right, Dr. Razzz. "Were stupid?" What is that? Then again, Razzy, Baby, you are cited for inproper use of punctuation with the use of quotations.
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# posted by : 3/08/2007 1:51 PM
: 3/08/2007 1:51 PM Links to this post:
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