Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you know the global markets are tumbling faster than I can down birthday shots this weekend (the big 25 coming up!). In a scramble to fix this crumbling capitalist empire, America’s bailing out some of their biggest banks. But no! That is not the Greatest Bailout of 2008. It’s not even the case of Iceland, which last I heard the government was ready to file for bankruptcy. No, it is –and I say this with great flourish– my parents giving me one more month to live.
“I’m bailing out my favorite depressed charity,” my dad bellowed over the phone (yes, he is a man who bellows rather than speaks). “For your birthday!”
Twenty-five years after life’s little miracle appeared, my parents have decided that I am worth at least another month of not being homeless and hungry.
Thank god. I was literally down to the last $100 in my account, with no viable work options. YES IT IS PERFECTLY ACCEPTABLE FOR YOUR FORBEARS TO SAVE YOUR ASS WHEN YOU’RE ABOUT TO BECOME DESTITUTE.
Their generous present actually just buys me a few more weeks. I’m hoping the magic number of job applications is 1000, because I must be pretty darn close to that.
Oh, the lure of shady practices. I interviewed to become a personal assistant for a hedge funder recently. I had a bad feeling about it, just from the guy’s emails, and my suspicions were confirmed when he said he wanted an “eye-candy assistant” who would do some “light cooking” , “play hostess at his parties” and “occasionally -if you’re good with your hands- massage my back and neck.” The scary thing is, unless I say it out loud and elicit disgusted responses from people, I don’t pick up on how degrading his requests actually are (No offense to personal assistants who like giving back rubs to creepy finance shmucks for $15/hour.). My senses are shot -sometimes I wonder if I can still tell up from down.
New York’s such a mixed bag of characters. The other day I saw a storm trooper nonchalantly walking through the market at Union Square. Today I passed a man in a sports jacket crossing an intersection, simultaneously shaving his chin while walking. You gotta multi-task.
Sorry for the lack of coherence in my thoughts, and sorry for my inability to commit to a blog. Not the best of times.
25 -woohoo!
