This job is an unpaid internship but there's hope for advancement into the highest ring of angels around heaven. That's also unpaid, but it's really fun: 'cause angels can fly, they get special missions and never spill marinara sauce on their outfits, like I do when I wear white.
As you can see on this blog, my life's a laugh-a-minute AND a dynamic, fast-paced, detail-oriented, team-playered work environment. I go out all the time, party all night long, drink like a fish, sleep 'til nine a.m. and read a lot. [That's a joke, p.s., for those of you just tuning in. Except I do read a lot and sleep 'til nine a.m.] E.G. right now I'm reading Ovid's The Art of Love, which--speaking of presents--was a present from TB. So far, the narrator's ripped out his married girlfriend's hair [cause she dyed it, as I plan to do within the next 72 hours], impregnated his girlfriend's maid and then delivered a harsh missive regarding his ire over the maid's self-administered abortion. In the introduction, Ovid's described as "romantic to the core."
Here are the top ten requirements of this job.
BECAUSE WHEN YOU FIND A JOB YOU LOVE, YOU NEVER WORK A DAY IN YOUR LIFE.
Right now, there's 5-6 humans outside on the street yelling like wild hooligans. Now--my Mom kicked me out of my home for blowing bubbles in my milk many-a-time, but that's no excuse to be yelling silly things into the night air when I'm upstairs having important thoughts. I need someone to regulate on their asses. Also, I'd like someone with one or more of the following super-powers: Seeing Through Walls, Precognition, Cross-Dimensional Awareness, Zach Morris Time Freeze, Flying, Spider-Vision, Telekinesis, Ability to Teach Public School in a Low-Income District, Go-Go Gadget 'Brella.
Seriously though for those of you familiar with the Go-Go Gadget 'Brella and the recent onslaught of random-ass NYC rainstorms, you know how kickass that would be. The guy on the corner'd be like: Five dollah! And you'd be like, ziiiippppppiddiiii
Most of my clothes are within the $5-$30 price range, which means they fall apart more-or-less instantly. I noticed Krista1 often got her pants hemmed, though, which's when I realized that people my age get their clothes fixed instead of just stuffing them in the closet for whenever they learn how to fix stuff so it don't split open no more. I don't need hemming though, I need hole-fixing and lengthening, if possible. I've had this pair of Abercrombie jeans since '03 that recently earned a hole in the ass, and I don't know what to do about it. Sometimes I think maybe no-one'll notice if I just don't stand up, or something?
So anyhow: Dentist. I brush my teeth approx. 20 times a day, which's why I have toothbrushes all over this city. Actually, I did make a dentist appointment a few months ago, but apparently the free insurance I'm scamming off the government had already picked a dentist for me in East Harlem, where I lived ten gazillion years ago. So you'd have to hunt that down, then call.
My Mom. Natalie, Krista, Direct-TV probs, Aunt, Grandparents, Cousin-who-just-had-baby, Noah, and Visa, because I think they're scamming me on the APR.
Also, I've got this problem with my bed that I've had for a few years now: I keep an additional comforter between my mattress and the fitted sheet for extra comfort, but this also puts strain on the fitted sheet's ability to stay put, especially during "special" activities, e.g. sex. As soon as I note the fitted sheet coming undone, my anxiety level skyrockets and it's all I can think about: must fix sheet, must fix sheet. I've been known to interrupt activities to fix the sheet, and also to demand "off the bed!" immediately following said activities to re-position the sheet as quickly as possible. I've solved this problem by nailing my fitted sheet to the mattress, but now there's multiple holes in fitted-sheet-corners. There must be a better way. Please fix.
Also: cleaning. I like cleaning sometimes, but not all the time. I like things being clean though. I hate my room being dirty. This's one of many things I will be talking to you about, see Job Requirement #10: The Futile Process of Discussing Why Riese Doesn't Fix Things That Drive Her Crazy, e.g. my room being disorganized.
1: Krista. Sisters since we were made suitemates at Interlochen (boarding school) in 1997. Lived together in East Harlem. Currently painfully far away at Yale.
2: Lewis. My younger brother. Lives in New Orleans. OMG!!! Yes. He was also living there during Katrina, but he got out just fine.
3: When I was 18, no-one would hire me w/o waitressing experience, so I got a job at The OG in Times Square, 'cause they have training/brainwashing there, so it doesn't matter how inexperienced you are. I talk about it a lot, so I'm glad I worked there. It's great anecdotal material.