September 29th, 2006


If you're down with P, then you're down with me

I'm not actually down with P, I just like to say that.

So, in a way, I'm looking forward to the possibility of Old 4-West showing up to my party tomorrow (Julie Chen with maybe Braxton and Eileen), but in an entirely different way I kinda wish I was flying solo on this one - if for no other reason than the fact that this is my opportunity to freak out a bunch of strangers in the comfort of my own home. I'm looking forward to the fact that I'm going to try and write some freaky shit and tape it to the walls in my room (to go along with Emily's photocopied pictures - attached all over the apartment - of a microscope with the word "Self" where the tray would be, and the word "Strength" taped and typed in the lower right hand corner underneath the microscope ... I don't really know what it means, though she said the microscope is supposed to represent "Observation" and that's all I got out of her). I feel that this is my one big chance to - in my own unique way - make a complete jackass of myself. Not necessarily getting sloppy drunk - though walking around all night with a 40 in hand DOES bring with it a certain charm. I dunno, I'll think of something.

Ring the bell, school's back in.

No, you can't touch this. Here I was, worried that I'd be the only person in class and I'd have to fornicate with the aging female teacher to get a passing grade. Then, I get there and see there are five others along with me. One guy showed up like he was interviewing for a Clenched Butt position in a High-&-Mighty Corporation, with a tie and a briefcase and everything. He was totally the kind of guy who'd suck up in grade school, asking a bunch of questions not necessarily because he couldn't follow, but just to be nice because he thinks "That's what everyone ELSE wants to ask but are too afraid to." Needless to say, he did well on the In-Class assignments, but he was annoying to no end.

There was the kid who just moved here from Tennessee. He's going to college and in spite of the fact that he wears glasses, he posed no threat to my dominance. There was an old woman, she was feeble and weak. Then, there were two black ladies who were OK even though one passed Law School and the other appeared as if she were some sort of professional. Obviously, I outshined them all, but would we expect anything less?

Seriously, why wouldn't I? In the dorms and after college, I was reading my friends' papers all the time and correcting their grammar mistakes if they asked me to! And, most of the time, these were papers by people who weren't as comfortable with the written essay, with subject matter I had absolutely no CLUE about. Well, what I'd be doing - Legal Proofreading - is reading complicated, redundant, extremely detailed legal documents and correcting the spelling and consistency errors. Like, say, someone's writing a contract, and one of the principals in the contract is named Frank Stallone. Well, if the lawyer uses "Frank Stallone" throughout the contract, but in one area only says "Stallone," then that's what they have me there for, to add that missing "Frank." I've also got to know the difference between "Principal" and "Principle." I think I used that right.

Beatrice Moritz, she was the woman in charge. She might've been in her early-to-mid forties - wouldn't throw her out of bed. She talked about how - after we pass her class - we'll be qualified for every type of proofreading (from advertising and publishing on up to financial and legal) except for medical proofreading - which, apparently, requires what? another four-hour session? Apparently, though, with legal proofreading, I have to go through a Proofing Temp Agency. Even through the agency, though, I'll be making between $17-$25 an hour. So, considering I'm paying LESS money to live here than I did living in West Seattle, and that I'll be making MORE than what I made in my permanent job at Nordstrom (which was, at $16.15 an hour, the most I'd ever made), I should have this credit thing squared off right quick.

I guess law firms are really reluctant to hire independent contractors - ever since a lawsuit was won by a number of contractors who felt they'd been underpaid - but if I happened to go that route, I could start at $22 and make up to $35 per hour. Medical proofreaders, I guess, make up to $50 per hour (they're the ones who read all those damn prescription medication things with the teeny-tiny print, or the ads with the same info).

The coolest aspect of this, though, is the possibility for a flexible work schedule. I guess one guy works 36 hours a week, but only works on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday; so he's got the rest of the week free to pursue his musical efforts. That's what I want. I'd take 4 days off a week to just sit around and write or whatever. 12-hour days of just proofreading won't be any trouble at all as long as I get enough black coffee in me.

OK, I have some freaking out to pursue. Next Wednesday at 6:30pm is Part 2 of the class; then I'm certified. If I do REALLY well on the practice test in class, then Beatrice says she'll send it in to agencies. That'd be totally sweet, 'cause then I wouldn't have to call THEM.
  • Current Music
    Rufus Wainwright - Evil Angel
Don't Hassle the Hoff

My Love ...

T is for Tortillas made of flour, steamed to perfection
A is for Always providing extra hot sauce for pouring
C is for Cravings, striking my stomach like a storm
O is for Orange Fanta, the perfect compliment to pork burritos

D is for Double-Punch Mondays, filling my card that much faster
E is for Every bite whisking me away to Flavor Country
L is for Leaving no bit of rice uneaten, sucking on foil for juice

M is for Mexicans preparing my burritos with care
A is for Artfully craptastic television commercials
R is for Really bad shits a half hour after eating

Put them all together, they spell Taco Del Mar: I'd give up both testicles to see one here.
  • Current Music
    My Morning Jacket - Golden (Live in Japan)