odd little bean

if you understand the title of this blog post, then you were likely just as addicted to texas instruments’ speak & math as i was back in the day.  as strong as my foundation is in math, i started to shut-down once i hit limits in calculus-land.  let’s be honest…i don’t like limits in general.  confines make my teeth itch, and boundaries make my skin crawl.  i avoid limits at all costs.

and then i was selected to be a ford fiesta agent.

and then the folks at ford’s marketing agency told me to write a bio in 300 characters or less.  THREE HUNDRED CHARACTERS OR LESS?  are you KIDDING ME?  do these folks have any inkling of an idea of who i am?  i am not a novel, i am a collection of short stories.  i am not a meter stick, i am a drawer full of mismatched rulers of various shapes and sizes.  i am not a victorian mansion, i am a small brick house with 12 add-ons, each made out of different building materials.  i can not reduced to 300 characters while still captuiring the essence of who i am.

or can i?

a girl of many projects and little time, i attempted to outsource the project.  my friend jeremy threw a bio together for me while she was sitting in a waiting room somewhere in california.  a few back-and-forth edits later, here is the bio i ended up posting to the fiesta agent website:

BIO 1:
Bliss drives a hard line between silly and uproariously ridiculous, and is a brilliant and scathing judge of everything. In fact, she rides all 3 of those converging trains while pretending to trainjack the conductor of each. Bliss’ hobbies include losing her keys, stripes, and knitting wonky hats.

i wasn’t convinced that the bio said a whole lot about me, but i liked it.  pithy.  sassy. spunky.  it made me feel cooler than i actually am.

then the game changed.  ford said, “oops…we didn’t mean 300 characters…we meant 300 words.” godjesuschrist. should i change mine? should i leave it?  honestly, it seemed like all most of the hip agents (aka the peeps i would be friends with irl) had initially kept their bios to 300 characters while some of the more lackluster agents broke the rules (or just didn’t read the e-mail correctly) and wrote bios that rapidly rambled nowhere about nothing.

ford gave all agents with 300 character bios the chance to upgrade to 300 words.  i knew i didn’t want 300 words, but this was my big chance to put a little bit more of myself into my bio.  i like hilary’s bio.  i feel like i read it and instantly understand what drives her at a visceral level. i like becca’s bio. i read it and i think, “wow.  i’d like to spend a day playing yahtzee! with her.” i like davey’s bio.  in four short sentences i am left believing that he is the chuck klosterman of the fiesta movement.

i was determined to re-do my bio.  i had jeremy’s help with bio 2, i wrote bio 3 all by myself, and my boyfriend crafted bio 4.  it’s voting time, boys and girls.  i need your help.  please leave a comment and let me know which bio to use, be it 1, 2, 3, or 4.  if you’re feeling particularly motivated and you don’t like any of your choices, please feel free to write a new one.  i am truly mentally gridlocked, and i’ve lost the ability to tell the difference between fabulous and crapulous.  bios 2-4 are as follows:

BIO 2:
A non-linear polynomial with complex coefficients in a world of dull integers, the absolute value of Bliss and the fractal kaleidoscope bubble she surrounds herself with may never truly be known to the masses. That’s okay though… Some things were never meant to be quantified.

Whether it’s knitting wonky hats or adding to her stripe collection, Bliss always has her hands in 7 pots and her feet in the clouds.  Bliss was voted “most likely to turn her Fiesta into a mobile grilled cheese sales unit,” and feverishly dreams of a recurring role on The Electric Company or Sesame Street.

BIO 3:
Invite Bliss over for tea party at your house. When she finally leaves, half of your house will be aflame, a litter of teacup pigs will be mulling about in your bathtub, your forks will be AWOL, your basement will have been rented out to a stranger from craigslist who swears those plushies don’t belong to him, your deepest insecurities will have been unearthed, and you will be left wondering how you ever lived without her.

With a knack for the obscure and a flair for the obscene, Bliss is a shimmering kaleidoscope of laughter, ridiculousness, and whimsy.  On any given day, you might find Bliss:
1.    Using her double environmental degrees to teach the world about global warming, renewable energy, and California’s energy-water nexus
2.    Digging into her Tickle Trunk for a boisterous game of dress-up
3.    Drooling over anything and everything striped, including, but not limited to zebras, crosswalks, nautical sweaters, rainbows, and 7 layer dip.

BIO 4:
Pacing nervously your palms begins to sweat, not to mention you’re wearing a hole in that brand new Fükenügly rug from Ikea. Last time Bliss came over she was dressed head to toe in mismatched stripes dragging a costume trunk behind her. Promptly after arriving and without even having time to object, Bliss was in a pirate costume and you were emptying out your fishbowl to complete your astronaut outfit. You woke up the next morning with blisters on your fingers from hours of RockBand and your Flickr account somehow reached its limit. Palms still sweaty… double check to make sure the fishbowl is hidden… DING-DONG!

let the voting begin!