Shopgirl, almost...

A few years ago, I had the pleasure of reading Steve Martin's novela "Shopgirl." It was a nice, fictional story...that is until yesterday.


I had my interview at Marshall Field's and was instantly offered a full-time position (pending another interview with management) in the jewelrey, handbag and glove department. Unfortunately, it paid about $7.75 before taxes, but all that was fine with me because I'm already starting to worry about this years' Christmas shopping (and I get wallopped with birthdays in December.) A nice employee's discount would definitely come in handy, as would steady employment. But I got to thinking about "Shopgirl" and how that would be me. It was a bit frightening, especially the part about selling leather gloves. Eventually, I decided to cancel my second interview which was scheduled for this morning. I'm making roughly the same amount with my unemployment checks. I'll try to hold out for something that paid at least $10 an hour.

Don't get me wrong--there's nothing wrong with working retail. I did it myself for a while; I also know how difficult it is to get out of a comfortable, yet poorly paying situation. I could be there for years and before I knew it, I'd be forty, still poor, living in a crappy apartment, and still unable to afford any of the items I'd be selling.

The job search continues.

Lusty Lizzard...

This is a time-out from the self-centered ramblings that y'all know as Jen's Little Corner. My friend Liz (of Lusty Lizzard fame) lives in Arabi, LA, which is a nearby suburb of New Orleans. I just found out that they have probably lost everything in their house due to the catastrophic flooding. Liz and her husband Craig have taken shelter in Houston and are out of harm's way but this stupid hurricane couldn't have struck at a worse time. Liz is 8 month's pregnant and this is a troubling situation for someone without any health issues to worry about (although she is a M.D., it's still a scary medical prediciment. Craig's Ph.D. will probably not come in handy.) It may be difficult to deliver outside of Louisiana without incurring an insurance shitstorm.

I haven't been in touch with Liz (or Elle, or L, whatever. You're still Liz to me, gotcha???) ever since all shit broke loose in my life a few months ago, but she and Craig have been in my thoughts. Hopefully she'll get a proper baby shower with all the fixins in a few months (FYI, I love the design for the baby's room you picked out.)

So, everyone: keep Liz and Craig in your thoughts and prayers, as well as everyone else affected by this storm.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled superficial bitching.

7evens list...

sevens -tagged by Ago-go

Seven Things I Plan To Do Before I Die
1. To to Europe
2. Write at least one novel
3. Have a baby
4. Become well-known and successful
5. Explore catacombs underneath Rome
6. Take a cross-country road trip
7. get married (maybe)

Seven things I can do

1. Win at Trivial Persuit
2. Eat White Castles like my stomach is a bottomless pit
3. Pop my right big toe in and out of the socket
4. Sleep for 16 hours straight when I'm perfectly healthy
5. Speak with a believable Russian/Slavic accent
6. Make awesome Jell-O molds
7. Alienate friends and relatives in a matter of seconds (it's a gift, really.)

Seven things I can not do

1. Eat tomatoes
2. Dance
3. Sing
4. Speak in public
5. Drive without frightening my passengers
6. Roll my r's
7. Hold my liquor

Seven things that I find really attractive about the opposite sex

1. Intelligence
2. Height (over 5'10")
3. Sense of humour (dark and dry)
4. Occupation
5. Eyes
6. Physical shape
7. Any attention paid toward me

Seven things I say the most

1. Fucker
2. Mother fucker
3. Asshole
4. Bastard
5. What the hell
6. I'm on sabbatical
7. Hi Marvin! (when responding to the Michigan Automated Response Voice Interactive Network 'You can call me Marvin' which I call to report that I am still unemployeed every other Wednesday.)

Seven Books I LOVE

1. The Silence of the Lambs-Thomas Harris
2. Middlesex-Jeffrey Eugenides
3. Any of MaryJanice Davidson's 'Undead' series
4. Crime and Punishment
5. Any Harry Potter novel
6. Anne of Green Gables
7. Good in Bed

Seven people I'd like to see do the seven thing (and if you don't wanna do it, ignore me):

1. Anyone! I'm not picky
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.

Hoo-rah for now...

I have a 2:30 interview in Marshall Field's HR department tomorrow. Yay. Who knows what will come from it? Strangely, I think I may have been slightly flirty with the main HR guy earlier today. Maybe that'll get me in Clinique.

Unfortunately, today was the first time since April I've worn heels over 2.5" high. My baby toes have been torn to shreds. Quite a bloodbath, but I looked presentable.

Suck it up...

After a ridiculous period of unemployment, I've decided to give in. I've got degrees out the wazoo, I spent the last 3.5 years working for the second largest law firm in Michigan, and I'm aparently only qualified to do really obscure, rarely available work. Soooo, I'm going to Marshall Fields this afternoon. I decided a gig at the Clinique counter might be nice. I love the lab coat look.

I'm currently wearing Clinique's "Deep Cleansing Emergency Mask" which is a white clay miracle. Maybe it'll serve as a good luck charm as well.

Wish me luck!

More reading...

I am horribly sick right now. I've been coughing, sneezing; I'm quite possibly the most disgusting thing since sliced head cheese. I've had this gross cold since Thursday afternoon and yesterday it was the worst...but that didn't stop me from gussying my bad self up and trotting over to Borders to get this book:

I'm so addicted to this series that I bought it hardcover! Dammit, I'm a phlegm factory. I deserve something nice right now.

My horoscope said something along the lines of "try to look your best; you never know who you might meet one of these days," so I actually curled my hair, wore my contacts and put coverup on my black circles. I looked good for the hour I was away from my sickbed...until I started coughing uncontrolably at the bookstore. I reeked of TB, I'm sure.

Also, Ago--the nasty pink dress picture will be posted soon. Just a warning.

Great books...

Within the past 30 hours or so, I read, nay, absorbed these two books:

Quick, enormously entertaining, enjoyable books. All about vampires who reside in Minnesota and a girl who get bitten, dies, wakes up in a casket, and discoveres that she's the prophesized Queen of all Vampires. I don't want to elaborate because y'all MUST read these books. There's a few more in the series and I'm going straight to Borders tomorrow morning to get my fix! I may have been forced out of my horrid, multi-month funk thanks to these. Vampire romance!

Always the bridesmaid...

My sista has been engaged for little over a week and the big event is tentatively planned for October 2006, but she has already started calling on reception halls, started narrowing down the guest list, and has been thinking about centerpieces (the little imp stole my autumn/harvest/pumpkin theme idea, but since she's getting hitched first, she can have it.)

Fortunately, (or unfortunately, depends on how you look at it) she also had a nasty bridesmaid experience a few years ago, as did I. We were standing up in our cousin's wedding and the dresses she picked out were horrific: floor-length pink satin with a sleeveless basket-weave textured bodice. All in pink. Square neckline, dangling pearls along the bustline, low-cut in back (no normal bra could be worn and the wedding was in August so all stocks of "sticker bras" were completely sold out everywhere!!!) All her bridesmaids looked pretty good, Kate included. I looked like total shit. My shoulders were too narrow to keep the wide straps up, so I had to glue the material to my body with spray adhesive!!! Also, Pink is totally not my color. I looked like a cranky corpse in all the wedding photos. Keeping this crappy and REALLY EXPENSIVE ($250+) experience in mind, Kate has narrowed down her colors to either brown or navy blue. Both colors totally work for me. She'll pick the color, we'll (her "friend of honor" Joyce and me) pick the style that looks best on each of us.

So, I'm jumping the gun a bit and have started leaning toward this lovely brown number. It's also available in navy, but I prefer the brown. It's a nice tea-length and will be easily hemmed to fit someone of my stature. And it's only $110.00 (although the dyed-to-match shoesies will probably be around $60.)

And my mom, who works in intimates at a department store, has assured me that I'll be able to find an appropriate bra for the occasion! Yippee.

Satyr-riffic

I've been thinking about my close encounter of the Capra kind and stumbled upon (and borrowed w/o credit) this lovely picture drawn by someone with perhaps more free time than I do (shocking):

Now, I'm waiting for the waist and the rack. I totally can't wait for those horns.

Quite possibly the stupidest injury ever...

Yesterday I was bitten by a goat at the state fair. Bitten right through my jeans. So, now the question is, will I transform into some kind of satyr during a full moon? The skin wasn't broken, so I decided not to get a tetnus shot, but I do feel lame. It's all my fault, really. I spilled pop on my pants earlier in the afternoon at the fair.

Wedding Bells...

My sister Kate called me at 2 AM with the news "I'm getting married!!!" To which I replied "fhjkaeyyrhg" then woke up enough to wish her my best. She promised a non-ugly bridesmaid dress but I'm not holding my breath.

I'm happy for her but most of all, I'm baffled. How the hell did she find this guy in Hillsbillyville, West Virginia:
--Native New Yorker
--Exclusive bording school educated
--Cornell graduate
--Knowledge of style and fashion; buys Kenneth Cole shoes on his own
--Enjoys Broadway musicals, but definitely not gay

Getting worse...and goin' straight to hell

Today, within the past six hours, I've flirted with a semi-nerdy/semi-cute guy at Meijer while waiting in line to purchase my deodorant AND a really young priest at my great aunt's funeral luncheon.

And no, nothing resulted from either lame attempt at "friendliness."

Still pretty bad...

I had my palms read this afternoon at the Michigan Renaissance Festival. I was informed of the following: I have severe allergies to many things in nature and I'm especially sensitive to chemicals in fabric softeners and scented candles (duh.) Also, according to my palms, I've been burned so badly in relationships that I am no longer willing to put up with anyone's shit. In the past, I had been extremely supportive in regard to the needs of the turds I had been dating, much more so than my significant others had been toward me (duh.) I'm basically dead on the inside. again, duh. Also, my period of isolation will probably go away with the next 12 years (yipiee) and although I have fertility issues, I will probably have a child before menopause sets in. No hint of marriage, though. There were hints that my career/happiness niche issues will be resolved soon, and a profession in a creative field is on the horizon.

It was a good time at the RenFest. I'll probably go back in a few weeks. I purchased a scarf from a belly dancing booth, some cinnamon-clove spiced honey, an agate, a piece of Labrodorium, the palm reading, some tasty fish and chips (with lots of tartar sauce (the bane of my existance lately) and a beer. I almost purchased a nifty cloak before reminding myself that I already have one and it's better than anything else here because it's British, vintage and reversable.

Then I returned home to discover that a relative died...

Dark days continue...

Just to let anyone who's wondering know--I'm still alive. Still unemployed but still with a pulse. Just a sad, lonely, poor, quite possibly infertile and cancer-infested, unemployed chicklet who's recently discovered the joys of drinking alone.

After reading the new Harry Potter book, I've decided to look for a gig as a part-time werewolf. That's the lifestyle for me.