Friday, the Fck Me Dead Thirteenth

I had quit.

And, I was asked back... lulled by a big ass air conditioner, all the Fiji water I could drink, lots of time in a loft downtown, and two dogs who thought I was the leader of the pack, I stayed. It was an easy gig in many ways, I could overlook the odd parts.

Today, after asking for my pay for the fourth time for June, I was fired. Why? Because I refused to submit invoices for March-May.

Again.

How do you invoice what I do? "Arrived at noon. Walked dogs noon - one. From 1-1.19, picked up bits of chewed up tennis ball. Cleared up owners shopping bags from 1.30 until 1.34." You bill by the hour, simple as that.

Now, I'm having to fight for my bloody paycheck.

ARUGH. I should have stuck to my guns, instead of thinking we were used to each other, and never saw each other and it was an easy gig.


Now, the rest of my ramblings:

• I've noticed a number of places carry the 'Sport Do-Rag'. Will there soon be the 'Formal Do-Rag'? The 'Business Do-Rag'? Do you change into the 'Sport Do-Rag' after 5PM? Is GQ aware of this?
  

• Be wary when being polite, and standing to offer your seat to a woman that is wearing what seems to be a maternity top. Yes, although you are popping up and willing to stand with a full backpack and holding a terrier who sighs because someone has on a billowly top, it could just be the current baby-doll fashion and a hearty eater, and you are there, crammed in with 1,147 other passangers from Times Square to 149th for no other reason than, well, being polite.

• While walking the pit bull and the terrier, I was stopped by two women who had no idea what SPF 70 meant. They didn't know what SPF 10 meant... they were beet red, and had that horror of a burn called, 'letting your hair hang down your back and shoulders'.

"Do you live here, here in New York City?"
"Yes, I do...may I help you find something?" They had a map, so, that was a given.
Usually, people want to find SoHo, I tell them to follow the smell of money.
"We want to find THE TWIN TOWERS. You know, THE WORLD TRADE CENTER." Yes,
it was said in capital letters. I'm like a number of other people, it unsettles me still to see
or hear it on the E, it throws me off.
"What? The what?"
I was given a look as if I were deaf or stupid. "THE TWIN TOWERS!!! THE WTC!!!"
"Well, you can walk that way down Church for around 20 minutes or so. But, you won't
see them. I'm not sure if you heard the news... but.... they're gone. BUT, you might be
able to buy a plate or something with them in bas relief." With that, I walked off. I know,
I know, I was mean. I've been cranky lately.

• In being packed into the train with 1, 147 people, you are forced to stand there, unable to hold onto anything. The other bodies hold you in place... and, sometimes, all the bodies are male. I find this slightly embarrassing... especially when the only train advertising is "Don't let ERECTILE DYSFUNCTION RUIN YOUR SEX LIFE!!" and you really do hope what is pressing into your butt is someone's cell phone and that they need the medication advertised

• I am a whore. No, I am. I will not sleep on less than 600 count sheets of Egyptian cotton. Thank you WeatherGuy. And, I did say sleep. I have 47 pairs of reading glasses, all very cute and clever... but, then, I need these because I lose them. I eye fountain pens with the drooling desire some women eye designer bags or shoes. My dresses and shirts? Silk or cotton only in that soft, soft, weave...in the winter, the sweaters have to be cotton in a fine weave or a pure wool...the skirts have to sway around my legs, or the shirts made to brush against my skin. I adore silk underwear. I collect carrying bags of all sorts, and they have to be leather or a good canvas. Notebooks to write in with the aforementioned fountain pens... leather or clothbound, with handmade paper. My longed for red sunglasses. Things that appeal to my senses, I collect and lust for as wantonly as some lust for Victorian porn. There, you know my secret. I am not ashamed.

• I use the number 47 all the time. Sometimes, I add 100 or 1000 to it, it's a comfortable number. I also use the name Jack for everyone. When asked a question, I tend to say, "Run around naked?" "Oh, know what we did?" "You ran around naked?" "What would you like to do today?" "Run around naked?" My children do not find this an amusing habit. I do.

• Backpacks take getting used to, I've found. When you are pregnant, you learn to manouver your large belly around as you move places. A backpack, especially one as full as the one the WeatherGuy gave me, is the same thing, only in reverse. I say, "Excuse me" quite a lot these days getting on and off trains. I also found out you can't just plop onto a seat.

• When the terrier stands up on your lap and stretches, heed the stretch. Do not scold her, and have her sit back down so you can continue reading. The terrier is listening to the automated train messages, and hears your stop being announced. You do not. Therefore, you have to ride back three stops, with a disgruntled terrier on your lap.

• When eating a Reese cup, it's not a good idea to put it near the hot spot of your laptop and forget it. It's also not a good idea to put your phone on top of the forgotten Reese cup. When the phone rings, it's a good idea to check the phone before you put it to your ear, thus removing the need to wash your ear, face and hands to remove melted chocolate and peanut butter, not to mention bemoaning the loss of a good candy.

• Having a collection of bags is a good thing when you are emptying them out, and find a box of Jujyfruits, that have gone good and hard. If you put your mind away from Cajunboy's post on said candy, all is good in your world.

• The Icy Glare, while a wonderful technique in stopping someone from grabbing your popcorn in a film, doesn't always work when they ignore the "Hey! You can safely walk here" guy, and turn in front of you. However, smartly hitting their hood and yelling, "Hey, JACK!" helps.

• Your landlord calling and saying, "You know how we never got around to you signing a lease? Well, you need to leave on August 1st." sucks. I really hate Friday, the Fck Me Dead Thirteenth.

With that said, WeatherGuy is back from out of the country, and Sunday the Fifteenth is just around the corner.


booya.