It's a monstertrucker
Aug. 15th, 2003 07:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
silverfae9Ok, let's talk about my new job. It's still retail, but it's different retail. This lady has an interior design business, and her store is a growth of the design thing, so it's all high end vintage pieces and suchlike. I went in there this morning and talked to her for a few minutes and she said 'ok, so you can start tomorrow. Be here at 9:45.' It's full time, making quite a bit more than I was selling paper, and it's downtown, which I just love. It's actually just around the corner from Papyrus. No benefits, but at least it's not back on the streets for samantha. And the hours are a bit more normal, so I won't be working too many late nights anymore. -And- I can wear normal clothes, instead of just black and white. Now I just need to make friends with the owner so she can teach me how to be an interior designer.
Then I went to get my car registered, which was a fiasco and a half. However, I did find out that my car does not want to overheat, it just likes to look like it will. Emissions. Takes. Forever. I don't know how I've managed to avoid it in the past; must be because Jeb repealed the emissions laws. And then I had to find the liscensing place, which ended up being inside a Rite-Aid of all random places. Hasn't this city heard of a DMV before? The important thing here is that my car is officially a Washington resident, and I am officially illegal. Yay for being illegal! I'm just so cool.
To reward myself for being so impressive and getting a job at the last minute, I went shopping at Target. I know that being a Young Seattleite (tm) I'm not supposed to like Target, but I do. I bought lots of useless girlie things, like Cosmo and filmy, lacy garmets that are supposed to make men feel faint on the chance that one actually comes over and I actually have the presence of mind to say 'wait, hold on a sec, let me just change into this...' The real truth is that I buy these things solely for my own amusement, like the scratch-and-sniff underwear. Self-esteem issues aside, it -is- nice to be young and thin and female. I wanted to buy shoes, but the problem (other than the fact that all the people who read this are male and so can't sympathise with my fashion woes) is that I have huge feet for being so small...they're at least two sizes too big. It's next to impossible to find sexy, strappy shoes that don't look like I could use them for rafts in the next flood. I'm going to have to break down and buy some shoes that cost as much as a car payment.
I've noticed that I get more and more girlie as I get older. Six years ago, I wouldn't have been caught dead shopping for shoes, and the boys probably would have laughed me out of East of Java if I had mentioned fashion. Now, I'm just so -female-. I kinda like it.
I also bought a copy of Rocky Horror. This is the first time I've not lived with someone that had a copy, which might be the first down side to not having roomates. On the upside, though, I can perfect the timing of my call lines all on my own.
Another something that occured to me today is that I don't have a first date outfit...It's been so long since I've been on one. I wish I had my fashion advisor handy. Eric, my littlest brother, has since he was about 4 been my consultant. He always gave the thumbs up or down on my outfits, and he actually picked out what I wore on my first date with Pete. He was about 7 at the time, and he was a handy little monkey to have around. This annoys my father to no end, but I think it's pretty funny. And he -does- have taste.
Ok, one more time...a happy dance for samantha's job!
Then I went to get my car registered, which was a fiasco and a half. However, I did find out that my car does not want to overheat, it just likes to look like it will. Emissions. Takes. Forever. I don't know how I've managed to avoid it in the past; must be because Jeb repealed the emissions laws. And then I had to find the liscensing place, which ended up being inside a Rite-Aid of all random places. Hasn't this city heard of a DMV before? The important thing here is that my car is officially a Washington resident, and I am officially illegal. Yay for being illegal! I'm just so cool.
To reward myself for being so impressive and getting a job at the last minute, I went shopping at Target. I know that being a Young Seattleite (tm) I'm not supposed to like Target, but I do. I bought lots of useless girlie things, like Cosmo and filmy, lacy garmets that are supposed to make men feel faint on the chance that one actually comes over and I actually have the presence of mind to say 'wait, hold on a sec, let me just change into this...' The real truth is that I buy these things solely for my own amusement, like the scratch-and-sniff underwear. Self-esteem issues aside, it -is- nice to be young and thin and female. I wanted to buy shoes, but the problem (other than the fact that all the people who read this are male and so can't sympathise with my fashion woes) is that I have huge feet for being so small...they're at least two sizes too big. It's next to impossible to find sexy, strappy shoes that don't look like I could use them for rafts in the next flood. I'm going to have to break down and buy some shoes that cost as much as a car payment.
I've noticed that I get more and more girlie as I get older. Six years ago, I wouldn't have been caught dead shopping for shoes, and the boys probably would have laughed me out of East of Java if I had mentioned fashion. Now, I'm just so -female-. I kinda like it.
I also bought a copy of Rocky Horror. This is the first time I've not lived with someone that had a copy, which might be the first down side to not having roomates. On the upside, though, I can perfect the timing of my call lines all on my own.
Another something that occured to me today is that I don't have a first date outfit...It's been so long since I've been on one. I wish I had my fashion advisor handy. Eric, my littlest brother, has since he was about 4 been my consultant. He always gave the thumbs up or down on my outfits, and he actually picked out what I wore on my first date with Pete. He was about 7 at the time, and he was a handy little monkey to have around. This annoys my father to no end, but I think it's pretty funny. And he -does- have taste.
Ok, one more time...a happy dance for samantha's job!
