As I mentioned before, my friends have been so supportive during my time of unemployment. Some pick up the coffee tab, others send my resume out to a friend, while even others dole out advice for my next career move. My friend Lana, taking on the new role as "frienager"--part friend, part manager---has thoughtfully given me some wise advice on how to further my writing career. She had two interesting ideas. I'll address the first one.
She thinks that I need to become involved in a scandal in order to promote myself as a writer. This came about when I told her that Spitzer's whore is now trying to be the next Candice Bushnell. That was all she needed to hear. Using that as a jumping off point, she created an elaborate scenario where I would become the "other woman," she would tip off the paps when I would be leaving his place (so I would look FAB of course), I would give my contrite interview and then would throw in the fact that I am an aspiring writer and would hand out my writing packet to anyone who will take it.
In theory, it really is a fail-proof plan. In this society, the "other woman" gets crazy mad press just for banging some married dude. So, perhaps I would need to become infamous before I became famous on my own volition? Oh no...here comes my conscience..morals all bubbling up.
Morally, I just couldn't do it. But them I had an "ah-ha" moment that I have yet to share with Lana. I couldn't be the "other woman" but I COULD be the woman wronged. I could so play that part! The woman getting the shaft in the situation gets her fair share of press as well; and they always come out looking like the good guy, ahem, woman. Take Jenny Sanford. She wrote a book, left her husband and is doing the media circuit. Elizabeth Edwards, Elin Woods, Mary Jo Buttafuocco...the list goes on. All of these woman also received an onslaught of press coverage without having to whore themselves out at the Mayflower Hotel.
Now all I have to do is marry a governor, famous ball player, or Long Island car shop owner. Hey, isn't Harold Ford, Jr. single? Then, I would wait for them to cheat on me, turn on the water works and write the scathing tell all. I'm such a romantic. I would be guaranteed my time in the spotlight; but is this the way to go?
Hmm, hard work and dedication v. scandal in order to fulfill a dream? I am American, so obviously I should chose the latter. However, I am from German decent, so hard work and playing by the rules does flow through my veins. Plus I was raised Catholic, so in the end, my guilt would trump any of my rewards. I can always use Lana's Plan B, which I will discuss next time. I guess time will tell to see which route I chose!
Song of the Day: Evil Woman, ELO, "Ha ha woman what you gonna do, you destroyed all the virtues that the lord gave you."
Friday, February 26, 2010
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Don't Know Why
I seriously don't know why anyone would ever want to become a dentist. Obviously, there will always be a need for dentists, but I can't think of a more gross and thankless job.
For the past month, I have seen three different dentists and had over 12 appointments. You see, I have been blessed with "porous teeth." Basically I can't do anything without getting a cavity. Plus I grind my teeth like a mutha at night. Add these two together and you get a dentist's delight and a patient's nightmare. I had the mouth trifeca in Jan and Feb, where I had to have a root canal, a cavity filled and a tooth pulled.
I ask why someone would be a dentist b/c not only do you have to deal with a disgusting body part, but you also have to deal with people completely going insane when they see you. No one enjoys going to the dentist. I actually cried twice: once when the dentist hit a nerve that triggered a pain so bad that I thought I saw the devil himself and the second time when I got a shot with epinephrine (which I'm not supposed to have) and had a full blown panic attack and jumped out of the chair. Fun, right? I've been told by my dentists that they have seen far worse. So, answer me this...who wants to be seen as a nightmare by all of their patients? My dentist is the sweetest guy, but if you told me I never had to see him again, I would be super happy.
I know you are thinking there are definitely worse jobs out there. I thought of a gyno and proctologist, but a) maybe some people enjoy looking at a woman's biz-nas all day and b) rectal cancer really is a serious growing problem, so I could see how there is a light at the end of the tunnel for that job (no pun intended.) The only job that MAY be on par with a dentist is a podiatrist. I think feet are nasty...who would want to touch feet all day?
With that said, all the jobs listed above still don't invoke the white-knuckle fear most people face when told that they need to have a root canal. When I was in recovery, I heard a little girl crying for her mom, which was just heart-breaking. Who could deal with that every day? Seriously, do we have any dentists in the house? I find it odd that I have a lot of friends in many different lines of work, but I don't know of ONE person, not even a peripheral friend, who went to dental school. Are dentists doing the way of the dinosaur?
Also, here is a "Saving Money While Unemployed Tip" #276:
When at the gym, take all the free razors you can! Who cares if that woman who is always naked in the locker room is staring at you. Just do it and spend the $1.99 you saved on a Starbucks.
Song of the Day: Grillz, Nelly, "I got my mouth lookin' somethin' like a disco ball."
For the past month, I have seen three different dentists and had over 12 appointments. You see, I have been blessed with "porous teeth." Basically I can't do anything without getting a cavity. Plus I grind my teeth like a mutha at night. Add these two together and you get a dentist's delight and a patient's nightmare. I had the mouth trifeca in Jan and Feb, where I had to have a root canal, a cavity filled and a tooth pulled.
I ask why someone would be a dentist b/c not only do you have to deal with a disgusting body part, but you also have to deal with people completely going insane when they see you. No one enjoys going to the dentist. I actually cried twice: once when the dentist hit a nerve that triggered a pain so bad that I thought I saw the devil himself and the second time when I got a shot with epinephrine (which I'm not supposed to have) and had a full blown panic attack and jumped out of the chair. Fun, right? I've been told by my dentists that they have seen far worse. So, answer me this...who wants to be seen as a nightmare by all of their patients? My dentist is the sweetest guy, but if you told me I never had to see him again, I would be super happy.
I know you are thinking there are definitely worse jobs out there. I thought of a gyno and proctologist, but a) maybe some people enjoy looking at a woman's biz-nas all day and b) rectal cancer really is a serious growing problem, so I could see how there is a light at the end of the tunnel for that job (no pun intended.) The only job that MAY be on par with a dentist is a podiatrist. I think feet are nasty...who would want to touch feet all day?
With that said, all the jobs listed above still don't invoke the white-knuckle fear most people face when told that they need to have a root canal. When I was in recovery, I heard a little girl crying for her mom, which was just heart-breaking. Who could deal with that every day? Seriously, do we have any dentists in the house? I find it odd that I have a lot of friends in many different lines of work, but I don't know of ONE person, not even a peripheral friend, who went to dental school. Are dentists doing the way of the dinosaur?
Also, here is a "Saving Money While Unemployed Tip" #276:
When at the gym, take all the free razors you can! Who cares if that woman who is always naked in the locker room is staring at you. Just do it and spend the $1.99 you saved on a Starbucks.
Song of the Day: Grillz, Nelly, "I got my mouth lookin' somethin' like a disco ball."
Friday, February 19, 2010
Jesus, Etc.
On Wednesday I went to Mass for the first time in probably 10 years. I'm talking going to church for a reason other than a wedding, baptism or funeral. This past week I have been very contemplative: What should I do with my life? Where should I live? Do I or don't I like Shaun White despite his mess of hair? I needed answers! I thought maybe since God hasn't been listening to me in a while, that I needed to make a surprise visit. I am sure he was very surprised to see me there. At least the church didn't burn down when I walked in.
I can't believe how different it is to go to Mass in the city versus the suburbs. People just walk in off the street wearing their work out clothes. One woman still had her IPod on...I could hear it. People came and left as they chose. And the piece de resistance...a man was eating a granola bar next to me. I seriously had a moment of "oooh, you're going to get in trouble" since I have years of schooling with nuns under my belt. I remember I got in trouble once for letting my butt rest on the pew when I was kneeling. I can only imagine what the nuns at my school would have done!
It is amazing how automatic the prayers came back to me. I couldn't recite them out of church, but I knew them by heart when I was in there. I felt like a drone for a good hour, but as it turns out, it was exactly what I needed. After 20 minutes in, I realized I hadn't really thought about anything. My mind went blank, which is something it rarely does. I had a brief break from obsessing about my life. A friend of mine has been going to a Buddhist temple near Grand Central, and even though the ceremonies are held in Japanese, she says it just feels nice to hear people reciting the same thing, to feel like you are a part of something bigger than yourself. It is relaxing. I guess that is why they say religion is the opiate for the masses. I'll take it though, since I can't find a good Opium den anywhere above Canal street.
I guess the point of my story is not about finding God or going to church everyday, but finding a place where you can zone out for a while; especially if you are unemployed and feeling a bit claustrophobic in your apartment. Going to a place of worship can really be a great stress relief...unless...old people are involved. So concludes the rest of my "going to church" story:
I was feeling all peaceful and Zen-like until it was time to receive our ashes. People ran up to the front in a mad dash, resulting in a line around the corner. I was fine for a good 5 minutes until I heard the most annoying sound in the world. I turned around to see a toothless old man flapping his gums and licking his lips. WHY DO OLD PEOPLE DO THIS? I don't get it. Is he trying to find any remnants of teeth? I was hoping that Mr. One Foot In The Grave would eventually cut it out, but he didn't. The line wasn't moving and I was getting more annoyed by the second until I realized....Hey, I live next door to this Church. I can run home, grab a water and come back. I thought WWJD? and I definitely think Jesus would have bounced. So that is what I did. I returned to Church just as the line died down, got my ashes on, and got to walk around the rest of the night with a big black mark on my head.
Song of the Day: Running on Empty, Jackson Browne, "Everyone I know, everywhere I go, people need some reason to believe."
I can't believe how different it is to go to Mass in the city versus the suburbs. People just walk in off the street wearing their work out clothes. One woman still had her IPod on...I could hear it. People came and left as they chose. And the piece de resistance...a man was eating a granola bar next to me. I seriously had a moment of "oooh, you're going to get in trouble" since I have years of schooling with nuns under my belt. I remember I got in trouble once for letting my butt rest on the pew when I was kneeling. I can only imagine what the nuns at my school would have done!
It is amazing how automatic the prayers came back to me. I couldn't recite them out of church, but I knew them by heart when I was in there. I felt like a drone for a good hour, but as it turns out, it was exactly what I needed. After 20 minutes in, I realized I hadn't really thought about anything. My mind went blank, which is something it rarely does. I had a brief break from obsessing about my life. A friend of mine has been going to a Buddhist temple near Grand Central, and even though the ceremonies are held in Japanese, she says it just feels nice to hear people reciting the same thing, to feel like you are a part of something bigger than yourself. It is relaxing. I guess that is why they say religion is the opiate for the masses. I'll take it though, since I can't find a good Opium den anywhere above Canal street.
I guess the point of my story is not about finding God or going to church everyday, but finding a place where you can zone out for a while; especially if you are unemployed and feeling a bit claustrophobic in your apartment. Going to a place of worship can really be a great stress relief...unless...old people are involved. So concludes the rest of my "going to church" story:
I was feeling all peaceful and Zen-like until it was time to receive our ashes. People ran up to the front in a mad dash, resulting in a line around the corner. I was fine for a good 5 minutes until I heard the most annoying sound in the world. I turned around to see a toothless old man flapping his gums and licking his lips. WHY DO OLD PEOPLE DO THIS? I don't get it. Is he trying to find any remnants of teeth? I was hoping that Mr. One Foot In The Grave would eventually cut it out, but he didn't. The line wasn't moving and I was getting more annoyed by the second until I realized....Hey, I live next door to this Church. I can run home, grab a water and come back. I thought WWJD? and I definitely think Jesus would have bounced. So that is what I did. I returned to Church just as the line died down, got my ashes on, and got to walk around the rest of the night with a big black mark on my head.
Song of the Day: Running on Empty, Jackson Browne, "Everyone I know, everywhere I go, people need some reason to believe."
Sunday, February 14, 2010
LoveGame
Ok, I'll admit it. Having a job around Valentines Day is better than not having one. I am sorry for deviating from my overall theme of "unemployment is super fun," but what is the fun of getting a V-day present unless you can rub it in your co-workers' faces?
You see, V-Day isn't about romance...it's about spending money to prove how much you love someone and to let others know that. I honestly don't even really like flowers. I think they are corny, especially roses. But gosh darn it if I didn't love getting a dozen roses at my desk on V-day. Everyone makes a fuss. Who are they from? Ooh, aren't you lucky?
I remember one year my boyfriend got me an amazing bouquet, but he sent it to my apartment building. I asked him why he didn't send it to my office. He said he didn't want to "embarrass" me. "Hell no!" I exclaimed. I wanted everyone in my office to see what a loving boyfriend I had as represented by said bouquet. They would make much more of a fuss than my doorman, Elvis. Boyfriend didn't get my "logic." But you know what guys, that's how we roll.
Ladies, you may not admit it, but you KNOW I'm right. Tell me one time when you received flowers and didn't tell someone via text, twitter or FB status along with a picture. You like to keep people in the loop about your flower sitch. And when you see a gorgeous array of flowers sitting on your work reception desk, isn't there always an "ounce" of hope that they are for you? I thought so.
However, my entire argument isn't relevant this year because Valey Day fell on a Sunday, so it didn't really matter if I had a job or not. Oh, the universe works in mysterious ways. Now I have nothing to feel bad about and can go back to loving the fact I don't have to get up early tomorrow.
Happy Valentines Day!
xoxo
Laura
Song of the Day: The Power of Love, Huey Lewis and The News, "They say that all in love is fair, yeah, but you don't care."
You see, V-Day isn't about romance...it's about spending money to prove how much you love someone and to let others know that. I honestly don't even really like flowers. I think they are corny, especially roses. But gosh darn it if I didn't love getting a dozen roses at my desk on V-day. Everyone makes a fuss. Who are they from? Ooh, aren't you lucky?
I remember one year my boyfriend got me an amazing bouquet, but he sent it to my apartment building. I asked him why he didn't send it to my office. He said he didn't want to "embarrass" me. "Hell no!" I exclaimed. I wanted everyone in my office to see what a loving boyfriend I had as represented by said bouquet. They would make much more of a fuss than my doorman, Elvis. Boyfriend didn't get my "logic." But you know what guys, that's how we roll.
Ladies, you may not admit it, but you KNOW I'm right. Tell me one time when you received flowers and didn't tell someone via text, twitter or FB status along with a picture. You like to keep people in the loop about your flower sitch. And when you see a gorgeous array of flowers sitting on your work reception desk, isn't there always an "ounce" of hope that they are for you? I thought so.
However, my entire argument isn't relevant this year because Valey Day fell on a Sunday, so it didn't really matter if I had a job or not. Oh, the universe works in mysterious ways. Now I have nothing to feel bad about and can go back to loving the fact I don't have to get up early tomorrow.
Happy Valentines Day!
xoxo
Laura
Song of the Day: The Power of Love, Huey Lewis and The News, "They say that all in love is fair, yeah, but you don't care."
Saturday, February 13, 2010
The Weight
Bonus #38 when you are unemployed: you lose weight!
There are actual studies that show that people who are less stressed and get more sleep tend to lose weight without changing their eating habits. Since I am now sans stress and have an abundance of sleep under my belt, I am shedding those lbs!
I firmly believe that sleep cures all. For example: I have been at my parents' house all week since I had a tooth pulled. I've been on a liquid diet; which for me includes baby food, ice cream and mashed potatoes. I am so carb over-loaded that I would give anything to chew on a piece of lettuce. I thought I had gained at least 5 lbs. I weighed myself today...down 3 pounds! And I didn't even exercise (Please ignore this Kelvin). What I did do this week was relax, sleep, relax some more, watch TV and sleep. Bam! Down three pounds.
The only diet that ever worked for me was the break-up diet. Yes, I am one of the lucky ones who actually doesn't eat after a break-up. But trust me, this way works much better and is so much less hurt-y. If you are unemployed, take the sleep and rest challenge. I bet you will be down at least 5 pounds in a month. If you're employed and overweight, well it seems to me that your only logical and practical option is to quit your job and sleep for a few weeks. Hey! Maybe I WOULD make a great life-coach!
PS- does anyone else have a certain word that they can never spell right on the first go? I have two: License and exercise. I always have to think twice about those. Thank you Jesuit education!
Song of the Day: Sexy Bitch, David Guetta, "She's nothing like a girl you've ever seen before. Nothing you can compare to your neighborhood ho."
There are actual studies that show that people who are less stressed and get more sleep tend to lose weight without changing their eating habits. Since I am now sans stress and have an abundance of sleep under my belt, I am shedding those lbs!
I firmly believe that sleep cures all. For example: I have been at my parents' house all week since I had a tooth pulled. I've been on a liquid diet; which for me includes baby food, ice cream and mashed potatoes. I am so carb over-loaded that I would give anything to chew on a piece of lettuce. I thought I had gained at least 5 lbs. I weighed myself today...down 3 pounds! And I didn't even exercise (Please ignore this Kelvin). What I did do this week was relax, sleep, relax some more, watch TV and sleep. Bam! Down three pounds.
The only diet that ever worked for me was the break-up diet. Yes, I am one of the lucky ones who actually doesn't eat after a break-up. But trust me, this way works much better and is so much less hurt-y. If you are unemployed, take the sleep and rest challenge. I bet you will be down at least 5 pounds in a month. If you're employed and overweight, well it seems to me that your only logical and practical option is to quit your job and sleep for a few weeks. Hey! Maybe I WOULD make a great life-coach!
PS- does anyone else have a certain word that they can never spell right on the first go? I have two: License and exercise. I always have to think twice about those. Thank you Jesuit education!
Song of the Day: Sexy Bitch, David Guetta, "She's nothing like a girl you've ever seen before. Nothing you can compare to your neighborhood ho."
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Let It Snow
Hey Guys...it's snowing up in here! Per the NYC news, we are now in "The Blizzard of 2010!" I'm actually in New Jersey (I needed to go to the dentist), so I am fortunate enough to be holed up at my parent's with my cousin and grandma. It's a party!!
And when I say party, I mean my cousin and I are making fun of my mother following the storm.
She is FIXATED with snow. I had the nerve to talk during the 24-hour news coverage and got shushed. Why? Because they were giving NJ Transit updates. Why she should care about public transportation when she has no where to go? I have no idea.
Then the comments start. She comments on all the towns they show, "Oh, it looks pretty there." Then she comments on the people they interview "Look at that A-hole jogging, what an A-hole" or " Oh, she's an idiot for not wearing gloves. What an idiot."
Next comes a check on the weather outside. She sees our neighbors shoveling their drive way and she gets pissed. "Why are they shoveling now? They just have to shovel more later. They're such A-holes."
Then, back to watching the news.
It really is an amusing cycle to watch. Or maybe it is to me b/c the dentist gave me Vicodin and I'm a little loopy just from half a pill.
Honestly, I really don't like Vicodin. It makes me throw up (TMI-sorry) and all dizzy. I don't understand why people would voluntarily take them. With that said, anyone want to buy some Vicodin from me? $10 a pill. (That's a joke Mr. Government DEA Agency person).
Quick PS- My blog just passed the 300 hit mark! I know it's very small, but that news makes me happy. I'm glad someone is reading!
Song of the Day: Mother's Little Helper, The Rolling Stones, "Doctor Please, some more of these. Outside the door, she took four more. What a drag it is getting old."
And when I say party, I mean my cousin and I are making fun of my mother following the storm.
She is FIXATED with snow. I had the nerve to talk during the 24-hour news coverage and got shushed. Why? Because they were giving NJ Transit updates. Why she should care about public transportation when she has no where to go? I have no idea.
Then the comments start. She comments on all the towns they show, "Oh, it looks pretty there." Then she comments on the people they interview "Look at that A-hole jogging, what an A-hole" or " Oh, she's an idiot for not wearing gloves. What an idiot."
Next comes a check on the weather outside. She sees our neighbors shoveling their drive way and she gets pissed. "Why are they shoveling now? They just have to shovel more later. They're such A-holes."
Then, back to watching the news.
It really is an amusing cycle to watch. Or maybe it is to me b/c the dentist gave me Vicodin and I'm a little loopy just from half a pill.
Honestly, I really don't like Vicodin. It makes me throw up (TMI-sorry) and all dizzy. I don't understand why people would voluntarily take them. With that said, anyone want to buy some Vicodin from me? $10 a pill. (That's a joke Mr. Government DEA Agency person).
Quick PS- My blog just passed the 300 hit mark! I know it's very small, but that news makes me happy. I'm glad someone is reading!
Song of the Day: Mother's Little Helper, The Rolling Stones, "Doctor Please, some more of these. Outside the door, she took four more. What a drag it is getting old."
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Day Seventeen- No Sleep Til Brooklyn
Dedicated to Kristin:
Here's another handy-dandy tip to all those without a job right now. Try, Try, TRY to keep a normal sleeping pattern. It only takes one late nap and you'll wind up keeping vampire hours. One afternoon after hot yoga, I took a nice cold shower and BAM..fell sleep at 6PM and woke up at 10PM. That was it. For the next week I was sleeping until 2PM and going to bed at 5AM.
It was during my bout with insomnia that discovered something rather disturbing about late night television. I realized that based on the ads running during the hours of 2-5AM, the majority of people watching TV at this time are probably underweight pedophiles or pervs. How did I come to this mind-blowing conclusion? Well, the entire week I was up, there were three commercials that ran on repeat. The ads either promoted superhuman strength or naked underage girls. Doesn't sound like a market for women, does it?
The first ad was for a contraption sold by that Body By Jake Guy (Wasn't he in Saved By The Bell: The College Years?) It was some weird bar that you put on your door for pull ups. Ingenious!
Then, of course, we had the "Girls Gone Wild" videos. A) It makes me ill that Joe Francis is a gazillionaire because of this and B) I really feel bad for those girls...it's just sad. Also, I love the intro line of, "Do you like breasts?" Who was the ad wizard that came up with that one?
Finally, we go back to another fitness regime that is like that P90X thing. Except this is called "The Insanity Workout." Everything was INSANE...you get insane abs, insane arms...you get the point. I decided that probably most of the people watching TV this early in the morning were insane. What next? Ads for "Used White Vans" or "Lime By the Pound."
To any of my friends in advertising: what is the key demo of TV viewers during 1-6AM? Is it puny men, interested in underage girls, looking to bulk up? Do any women watch TV at this time? Not a tampon ad in sight I tell ya!
I soon decided that I didn't want to be lumped in with this creepy demo and I needed to get back to real world time, STAT. So, I went to my parents this week, took a few Advil PM, and got back to a nice 12-10AM routine. Now I can wake up and see all the diet food and jewelery ads that I was meant to watch!
PS- Thanks Marissa for making me re-read The Secret.
Song of the Day: Mind Playin Tricks on Me, Geto Boyz, "I sit alone in my four-cornered room, staring at candles."
Here's another handy-dandy tip to all those without a job right now. Try, Try, TRY to keep a normal sleeping pattern. It only takes one late nap and you'll wind up keeping vampire hours. One afternoon after hot yoga, I took a nice cold shower and BAM..fell sleep at 6PM and woke up at 10PM. That was it. For the next week I was sleeping until 2PM and going to bed at 5AM.
It was during my bout with insomnia that discovered something rather disturbing about late night television. I realized that based on the ads running during the hours of 2-5AM, the majority of people watching TV at this time are probably underweight pedophiles or pervs. How did I come to this mind-blowing conclusion? Well, the entire week I was up, there were three commercials that ran on repeat. The ads either promoted superhuman strength or naked underage girls. Doesn't sound like a market for women, does it?
The first ad was for a contraption sold by that Body By Jake Guy (Wasn't he in Saved By The Bell: The College Years?) It was some weird bar that you put on your door for pull ups. Ingenious!
Then, of course, we had the "Girls Gone Wild" videos. A) It makes me ill that Joe Francis is a gazillionaire because of this and B) I really feel bad for those girls...it's just sad. Also, I love the intro line of, "Do you like breasts?" Who was the ad wizard that came up with that one?
Finally, we go back to another fitness regime that is like that P90X thing. Except this is called "The Insanity Workout." Everything was INSANE...you get insane abs, insane arms...you get the point. I decided that probably most of the people watching TV this early in the morning were insane. What next? Ads for "Used White Vans" or "Lime By the Pound."
To any of my friends in advertising: what is the key demo of TV viewers during 1-6AM? Is it puny men, interested in underage girls, looking to bulk up? Do any women watch TV at this time? Not a tampon ad in sight I tell ya!
I soon decided that I didn't want to be lumped in with this creepy demo and I needed to get back to real world time, STAT. So, I went to my parents this week, took a few Advil PM, and got back to a nice 12-10AM routine. Now I can wake up and see all the diet food and jewelery ads that I was meant to watch!
PS- Thanks Marissa for making me re-read The Secret.
Song of the Day: Mind Playin Tricks on Me, Geto Boyz, "I sit alone in my four-cornered room, staring at candles."
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Day Sixteen- Supermodel (You Better Work)
Ahhh, nothing is more comforting than sipping tea in your parents house...snow on the ground outside, and watching marathon episodes of America's Next Top Model. I really think this show should be on Channel 13 b/c it really is educational. Tyra teaches me to "smile with my eyes." Mr. Jay (not to be confused with Miss J) shows me how to keep my chin up and elongate my body when I am being photographed. But do you know what I really learned today? That our unemployment rate should seriously be zero b/c obviously any numbskull (love that word) can get paid to basically do anything. Don't believe me? Well, let me introduce you to the "Swirl Twins"
The Swirl Twins, or as I just found out via google, Ron and Richard Harris, are a pair of burly men who teach people how to SPIN IN A CIRCLE FOR A LIVING. Tyra had them on to teach the girls how to "twirl" on the runway. I really wish I could find a clip of this on youtube, but basically these guys do a twirl, then the girls copy them. I bet they pulled at least $5000 for that, right?
And then, we have runway coach and diva extraordinaire, Miss Jay (See Photo). Miss Jay gets paid to teach girls how to walk down a runway. I must say, he does have a killer walk and legs for miles, but really??? This is a job?
Ok people, think of something, ANYTHING, and start getting paid for it. Below are a few ideas to get you going.
Pet Psychic--People get paid to do this. Why can't I?
Baby Masseuse- Yep, another real job.
Pigeon Whisperer- How I can help get rid of those nasty pigeons on your ledges.
Professional Annoyer- Hire me to annoy that special someone in your life.
Refrigerator Feng Shui Master- You aren't losing weight because your vegatables are mixing in with your leftover lagansa--major chi blockage!
Song of the Day: On Our Own, Bobby Brown, "You want somethin' done? You gotta do it yourself."
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Day Fifteen- Family Affair
Yes, I've neglected my blog and got yelled at for it...by my mother.
My mother, who initially wanted no part in my writing ambitions, has apparently now become my manager and editor. I was told today that I better write something soon or people will lose interest (true). She also hopes her friends don't get mad that she sent them a link to a blog I don't update (maybe true?) Is that true my mom's friends??
Here are a few other notes I've received from my mother:
- Laura, your writing is too verbose. People don't have time to read a long blog. Make it shorter. You know, I was the editor of my high school yearbook.
- Laura, your use of the F word is crass and lazy. That word is not needed to make anything funny.
Well, you know what? My mom is f'ing right! I think these notes can be applied to all things in life, no?
Write/Talk succinctly and don't use the F-bomb.
Song of the Day: Dear Mamma, Tupac, "You are appreciated, don't cha know we love ya?"
PS- My Uncle thinks my songs of the day are lame. Well, F you Uncle Dan! Mom, is that in poor taste?
My mother, who initially wanted no part in my writing ambitions, has apparently now become my manager and editor. I was told today that I better write something soon or people will lose interest (true). She also hopes her friends don't get mad that she sent them a link to a blog I don't update (maybe true?) Is that true my mom's friends??
Here are a few other notes I've received from my mother:
- Laura, your writing is too verbose. People don't have time to read a long blog. Make it shorter. You know, I was the editor of my high school yearbook.
- Laura, your use of the F word is crass and lazy. That word is not needed to make anything funny.
Well, you know what? My mom is f'ing right! I think these notes can be applied to all things in life, no?
Write/Talk succinctly and don't use the F-bomb.
Song of the Day: Dear Mamma, Tupac, "You are appreciated, don't cha know we love ya?"
PS- My Uncle thinks my songs of the day are lame. Well, F you Uncle Dan! Mom, is that in poor taste?
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