pay me

i’ll get a rise out of you

Note to Nigel and Stacey:  I’m sorry I had to take off so quickly.  Your assumptions about a “showbiz” party were correct– the problem being that I had just found out that all of the people were already on their way to my house, so I had to get home to unlock the door and throw away the pizza boxes.  I would have loved to have stayed to talk, as Stacey and I had a great conversation last time, but it’s difficult when the next show has already started.  Sorry you found us smug.  We just want to be loved, is that so wrong?

Eric’s mom arrives today.  The last member of his family to arrive.  I spent yesterday afternoon getting the carpet cleaned.  We cleaned the rooms.  The cats are groomed and wearing their Sunday best.  I cleaned up the computer desk so it doesn’t have various sketches lying around that say, “What the fuck is wrong with you, dickhead?”  You know, the usual.

But in my bag right now is a porn magazine.  It’s a prop for the show, and I’ve been in charge of it because, well, I’ve noticed that when I bring it to the club it never seems to stay in the place that I put it.  Others are like, “Who’s porn is this?”  And when I say, “Mine,” they usually back off and leave me alone, with a little look of awe and serenity.  “It’s okay.  Girls like porn, too,” their eyes say.

But I didn’t want to carry it in my bag, so I had left it on the floor of the living room with all the other props from the show that I carry.  Yesterday afternoon the carpet cleaners arrived half an hour early and just walked right in when I asked them to wait at the door, so the first thing they saw when they walked in was a half naked woman staring at them that says, “Jenna says ‘Put your cock where my fingers are.”  So, already I looked pretty classy.

I moved the magazine to the other room so that the carpets could dry.

“Do you think maybe you could do something about that porn magazine before my mom gets here?” Eric asked last night.

“Yeah.  No problem,” I muttered before I fell asleep.

This morning it was the first thing I was thinking of.  I didn’t want it to be sitting on the guest bed when Eric’s mom showed up.  I thought she might like a warmer welcome than Jenna’s intelligent quip.  So I put it in my bag and went to work.

Just a few minutes ago I was talking to a co-worker who is a very religious woman.  I was about to go outside for a break, and I was grabbing something out of my bag when I noticed that Jenna’s nipples were winking at my co-worker.  I closed the bag quickly, and hoped she didn’t see.  I have a tendency to leave my bag open when I’m at work, so I hope I don’t fall into that habit today.  I’ve got to be more careful.

I’ve been losing things lately.  Yesterday I spent ten minutes looking for my keys, only to find they were in the other pocket of my bag that I don’t usually use.  Then I thought I lost my wallet and looked around for two hours.  I finally found it in my bag, in a pocket that I had never seen before.  I’ve only had this bag for a couple of weeks.

This morning I’ve found that some of my CDs are missing.  I took a large CD holder with me to Aspen, and when I got back, Eric had borrowed that CD holder as well as the other one.  When I got the CD holder back, there were some CDs missing, which I just assumed that he borrowed.  I thought it odd that Eric would be interested in my Marilyn Manson CD, but stranger things have happened.  So today I asked him if I could have the Lauryn Hill CD back and he said he didn’t have it.  I checked his CD holder.  None of my missing CDs were in there.  There are about six of my CDs missing.  My Austin Powers soundtrack.  My Foo Fighters CD.  Lauryn Hill.  Eminem (not that I’m crying about that one).  Marilyn Manson.  All the CDs that I just bought recently.  I’m so pissed off because that means they were swiped when Eric was at work, or they are in a drawer somewhere, or– I don’t even know.  I know they were in the car on the way back.  We listened to the Lauryn Hill CD during the drive.  Things are just disappearing.  I keep misplacing things.  I think one of my Radiohead CDs is gone.  Man, this sucks.

I’m excited that Eric’s mom is coming.  I’m preparing myself for her arrival.  Right now there are fifty pound weights dangling off my ankles in the hopes that I could stretch myself a little, since she thinks I’m really short.  I want to impress her, and maybe if I reach 5’6″ before she steps foot in Texas… then I’ll be an even better girlfriend for her son…

My mom asked me if Eric’s mom is going to watch me Tae-Bo as well.  Ha.  Everyone’s a comedian.  I figure at least she’ll make fun of the other girls in the tape with me.  Maybe she’ll join in.  Maybe she’ll just sit back and read about Jenna.  Whatever she wants.  She’s the guest.  I’m just trying to be a gracious host.

You know, I’m just pissed off about that Eminem CD.  I saw the video on the MTV the kids like so much the other day, and I knew there was something different about the song.  When I got the CD home I was like, “Wow.  I didn’t realize how terrible this song was.”  And then you see the video and the song is completely different. He’s not talking about “fat biches” or “fucking your fat ho” or killing his dad or his mother having a flat chest.  They change the words of the song so they don’t have to bleep everything.  I was tricked.  Robbed!  Fooled, I tell you!  I just want the song I hear.  I’ll just give the CD to my sister the next time I see her.  I’m sure she loves Eminem.  Hell, she practically dates him.

It’s supposed to rain all weekend, which really puts a damper on Eric’s mom’s visit.  We were going to take her to the wildflower exhibit, which is really nice.  But now I think we’ll just end up at the citywide garage sale.

It’s job evaluation time around here, and we all got these handouts:  “How to Get a Bigger Raise.”  It’s not important all the details, but I just want to show you how I’m so set to get a huge raise around here, since I already do all of these things:

1.  Befriend everyone you can.

How friendly am I?  Well, since I started working here I’ve had eight officemates, and next week I’m getting my ninth.  I’m the easiest person here to talk to because everyone thinks I’m such a big dork they never feel any pressure from me.  I’m always looking for a new friend.   The smoking deck is the friendliest place in all of this company.  I’m so getting at least three percent.

2.  Be the employee who stands out.

Who’s wearing the pigtails, eye shimmer, baggy pants and beastie boys t-shirt?  Who’s the girl with a Winnie the Pooh bubble blower in her office?  Who’s the girl with the Spice Girls and Jane’s Addiction posters?  Why, that’s me!

3.  Keep a weekly journal

I’ve so got everyone beat here it’s disgusting.

4.  Give yourself monthly reviews

I get a review every time I do a show.  And whenever someone links to this page, it usually has a review of this site.  I get reviews all the time!  And I review myself, of course I do.  You guys hear me complaining about my life all the time! I’m so set for a raise.  I’m asking for fifteen percent.

5.  Timing is everything

No kidding.  When I leave for work at the last possible second and end up getting here ten minutes late through no fault of my own– (usually there’s unforeseen traffic, or a sudden hunger pain.  I have to stop to get something to eat.  I don’t have any other options.)  Anyway, when I show up late, you have to sort of sneak in and look like you’ve been doing something in the copy room.  You hide your bag around your shoulder, grab some sheets of paper and walk with that hurried walk right by the bosses office just as he or she is answering the phone.  Then you both look like you are busy at work.  You have to do it at just the right time, and I’ve got it perfected to a science.

6.  Make a written proposal

I’ve listed here many reasons as to why I deserve at least a thirty percent raise, so I’ll probably just bring this in.  Or, I’ll bring in Jenna and let her do the talking….

7.  Beware of “raise killers.”

Oh, I’m aware of raise killers.  That’s what Jenna’s coming along for.  She’s a guaranteed “raise maker.”

Ba-dum-cha-cha!  HA!  I kill me!  “Willy!”

too much coffee moment

Seriously, though, I’ll bring in porn if it will get me my forty percent raise.  I don’t care.  I’m a team player.  So is Jenna.  Ba-dum-cha-cha!

8.  Be patient

What?  I’m patient.  I’ve waited a whole year for this raise! Don’t tell me I’m not patient.

9.  Be prepared to go job hunting

And that, my friends, is what SXSW is all about.  I’m two steps ahead of the game.  I’m making a killing of my commission.  Last year alone I made fifteen dollars.  This year– through the roof, baby!  And I’m in a show right now where I’ll get one percent of the door– don’t talk to me about benefits!  The benefits of being in a comedy troupe are instantaneous, and you can’t get those on a form.  Those benefits won’t send your money to a different hospital.

There isn’t a tenth tip, which I think is strange, since they are trying to be efficient and clean and neat and  you’d think they’d just go ahead and do ten… whatever.  I just wanted to share with you the secrets of my impending success.  I’m going in there all balls out and saying, “I want an eighty percent raise, and I think we both know why I deserve one.”  And then I’ll throw that porn on his desk and say, “Jenna thinks so, too.”  Then I’ll go over to his computer and pull up Squishy and say, “I’ve been keeping a journal, see?”  And I’ll let him read through “pamie’s panties” and then I’ll just sit back and wait for the dough to fall into my lap.

Piece of cake.

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