From beer labels to record labels

It’s harder to be you when you’re thinking about who you are. I find myself thinking “what would I do if I were me?” in the instance of the interview I’m nervously preparing myself for.

The record label that I’ve labeled as my dream has wrapped itself perfectly around my mind with an adhesive so strong that not even boiling water would peel it from it’s attachment.

A customer at the bar I tended last year observed his date fingering the label off her beer bottle and took the opportunity when she shuffled to the bathroom to proudly tell me “you know what that means, right? She’s sexually frustrated.” I silently feared what meant for me, for I not only neatly soaked my labels to free them from their cylindrical form, but kept them to make note of the beers I wished to remember.

I think of the jobs I’ve held, and how I wear the brands on my resume as I did those beer labels in a book. When I find the one that really sticks, I want to love that label so much that rather than tentatively agreeing to a paper trademark, I become a bottle etched with the brand and shed the layers I’ve packaged myself with prior. I want to be unfiltered and of the purest form, for this desire has been fermenting long inside me.

Advertisements

2 Comments

Add yours →

  1. Kate, peeling away at a beer label: probably indicative the latent ecdysiast in us all.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: