I think I actually inspired my husband without having to ride his ass about anything. About a week after I passed my exams my husband got a wild hair and applied for the same position I was hired for at the same company. And he got the job!!! That's right motherfucker! Welcome the newest additions to "the middle class"!
I'm so excited I could pee myself. But I won't because I'm at work. He starts this coming Monday but for the last two weeks he's been prereading the materials and shopping like a fool who won the lottery. Well, actually, that's not true--he's shopping for office clothes because all he has are theif-buster clothes: Carhart hoodies and dirty jeans with sneakers.
Now that he got a haircut and he's outfitted for work, he looks pretty sharp. I might miss that roughneck look he had about him.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Thursday, February 01, 2007
This Is What the City Bus Does To Peoples' Faces
The Bus Face. It's an art, perfected over time. I've been working on mine for 20 years. Gotta be tough if you don't want drunk weirdos and crack fiends sharing your seat. Tough, but not crazy--you don't want fuckers thinking you're a bird of their feathers. Just tough enough so they know not to even waste their time asking you for money. Tough enough so that they won't feel temped to pull their dick out of their pants and wiggle it at you to see what you'll do. You want that face to say, "Nuh-uh."
This first pic I call "Don't sit with me." It's my general go-anywhere bus face. Works on all busses, all times of day--just enough a.m. crabbiness to avoid small talk with other downtown commuters, for the ride home it looks like the day was rough, and at night it looks like i might go off, you never know.
Now, this one is if I accidentally make eye contact. Eye contact is the wide open door for some fuckhead to feel he's been invited for a chat, so it must be countered with a look that says, "Save it." This face is also good for someone trying to get my attention who I cannot ignore.
Amazingly enough, not everyone can effectively read body language. This is my face when I am literally saying, "Dude. You need to go sit someplace else."
This first pic I call "Don't sit with me." It's my general go-anywhere bus face. Works on all busses, all times of day--just enough a.m. crabbiness to avoid small talk with other downtown commuters, for the ride home it looks like the day was rough, and at night it looks like i might go off, you never know.
Now, this one is if I accidentally make eye contact. Eye contact is the wide open door for some fuckhead to feel he's been invited for a chat, so it must be countered with a look that says, "Save it." This face is also good for someone trying to get my attention who I cannot ignore.
Amazingly enough, not everyone can effectively read body language. This is my face when I am literally saying, "Dude. You need to go sit someplace else."
Super Fuckin' Right On Hell Yeah!!!
I spanked that series 63's ASS! Not really, but I passed it at 76%. No more studying, stressing, or sleep dep! I feel better than when I graduated college because there's no "what now?" to anguish over. I ran their gauntlet and now I get to keep showing up to my job, keep my benefits--which rock, p.s., and there's plenty of space to work my way up!
Ladies and gentlemen! A moment please! I would like to take a moment to announce that I will NEVER have to work retail AGAIN! (Provided G-d doesn't take this opportunity to strike me down for my lack of humility. Hopefully all of my gratitude will make up for it.)
So I am celebrating at my local dive coffe house with a lukewarm, extraordinarily sweet cup of coffee heavy on the cream. My toes are cold. Hey what's that smell...? Why do I come here? Oh yeah, because this is where the cool kids hang out. Kidding, I don't know why I come here. No, yes I do. They have really good coffee. But they don't have food, unless you can be satisfied with a three year old bag of M&Ms for lunch (which I am not, so I went to Subway first).
I think I also come here because the baristas have that perfect amount of surlyness and stellar customer service. The woman who's tending the counter right now is this real sturdy woman with a mass of black curly hair piled up on top of her head, big ol' jewelry in her ears. Whenever I walk in she'll look at me with a frown and angry eyebrows and say, "What can I git'cha babe?" I love it. She's my fave.
Anyway, I'm listening to a loud-fast mix I made last week of metal and punk, heavy on the estrogen please, thank you, and just enjoying my day in general. I'm getting paid eight hours for an hour and a half of testing with a three day weekend ahead of me. AND tomorrow's payday.
Uh-oh, school's out. This place is going to fill up quick with annoying kids. I hate teenagers. I want kids of my own, but not if they're going to be teenagers. Fuck that, pack your bags if you're even THINKING about being a destructive little vandal theif bastard! Yeah, I'm talking to you, you teeny eggs hiding out in my warm little ovaries! It's a cold, cold world, so don't get too comfortable! You just wait till your father gets home--his little men are going to get the same speech!
Ladies and gentlemen! A moment please! I would like to take a moment to announce that I will NEVER have to work retail AGAIN! (Provided G-d doesn't take this opportunity to strike me down for my lack of humility. Hopefully all of my gratitude will make up for it.)
So I am celebrating at my local dive coffe house with a lukewarm, extraordinarily sweet cup of coffee heavy on the cream. My toes are cold. Hey what's that smell...? Why do I come here? Oh yeah, because this is where the cool kids hang out. Kidding, I don't know why I come here. No, yes I do. They have really good coffee. But they don't have food, unless you can be satisfied with a three year old bag of M&Ms for lunch (which I am not, so I went to Subway first).
I think I also come here because the baristas have that perfect amount of surlyness and stellar customer service. The woman who's tending the counter right now is this real sturdy woman with a mass of black curly hair piled up on top of her head, big ol' jewelry in her ears. Whenever I walk in she'll look at me with a frown and angry eyebrows and say, "What can I git'cha babe?" I love it. She's my fave.
Anyway, I'm listening to a loud-fast mix I made last week of metal and punk, heavy on the estrogen please, thank you, and just enjoying my day in general. I'm getting paid eight hours for an hour and a half of testing with a three day weekend ahead of me. AND tomorrow's payday.
Uh-oh, school's out. This place is going to fill up quick with annoying kids. I hate teenagers. I want kids of my own, but not if they're going to be teenagers. Fuck that, pack your bags if you're even THINKING about being a destructive little vandal theif bastard! Yeah, I'm talking to you, you teeny eggs hiding out in my warm little ovaries! It's a cold, cold world, so don't get too comfortable! You just wait till your father gets home--his little men are going to get the same speech!
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