Tuesday, March 18, 2008

She works (pseudo) hard for the money...

It’s time for Little Miss Westchester to get a part-time job.

The fact of the matter is, my time at Company X is no longer paying the bills (I like to shop) and apparently I can no longer get by on my looks alone****; as a result, I have spoken with good friend Moody St. Clair about getting a second job working with her at the mall. I have an interview on Tuesday. Wish me luck.

Admittedly, there are pros and cons with taking on additional jobs, especially additional jobs that are based at the mall.

Those being:

Pro: More Money
Con: More Work
Pro: Potential for some cool freebies from the new job
Con: Dealing with the public (Translation: Ugly People.)

But on the up side, I am looking forward to the possibility of a second income, even if that income is spent entirely on makeup, rhinestones, and shiney things I can fit into my mouth.

Yay second job!


****Lifetime Gross Income earned from Looks Alone: $0.00.

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Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Just when I was beginning to sleep through the night...

Apparently there are worse things out there than a squirrel with a shifty gaze....

CLICK HERE to read the article accompanying this headline...and to watch the video. Ohhh that horrible, horrible video!

UPDATE:

Moody St. Clair: I wonder if he is related to the gnome who lives at the end of my hall. Have I ever told you about him?

Little Miss Westchester: NO! And please don't. I don't think I would ever be able to come back to your apartment.

Moody: No, he's nice. He doesn't ever leave his apartment though; but, he did make a toboggan out of Popsicle sticks this winter.

Westchester: !?!?!?

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Tuesday, March 04, 2008

Moving: what's it good for?

This past weekend, I told Mister Mister that I would help him move.

In my mind, this was a commitment to appear in a mostly supervisory capacity, with a peppering of light lifting if something like a pillow or a bottle of cologne needed to be taken to the car. In his mind, I was promising to lend my blood, sweat and tears to one of the most annoying and difficult undertakings known to the young and mobile.

Moving. I hate moving.

In fact, I have lived in my apartment for almost 4 years now; and not because it is my favorite place in the world, or because I like the haunting sound of hobos rummaging through my garbage at all hours of the night. No, I haven’t moved because the fact of the matter is: I am perhaps the laziest person known to man-with the exception of maybe Paris Hilton and the entire cast of the Real World: Seattle.

I am so lazy, that I will pick cloths up off the floor with my feet so that I won’t have to bend down to retrieve them; I will wait several days to get my mail so I won’t have to carry it; and, I am so lazy that there has been a bag of shoes in the trunk of my car for over a year now, because I don’t have the energy to bring them to a cobbler.

So you can imagine my surprise when Mister asked me to help him carry his T.V. stand because it was too big for one person to carry.

Luckily, Mister is a good boyfriend, and he didn’t press the issue when I told him I was there for moral support rather than to carry anything to the car or to help him pack his glassware.

Three hours later, after the last box had been loaded into the car and the last scratch on the wall had been subtly painted over with White Out, Mister and I drove off into the night; Mister with the exhausted but unwavering knowledge that he still have hours of work ahead of him, and me with the hankering for a chocolate ice cream cone and some hugs.

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NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

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