My Blog

A blabberfest of run-on emotions and exaggerations whispers of doubt and shouts of twentysomethings angst of thanks of unrequited regrets dreams and more, more dharma more spazz more jazz more of the stark ugly thoughts of the half truths and starry wide wants, of feeling and touch, of nothing at all. Of me.

Thursday, July 31, 2003

Show me the money

So I've worked a month and one week as a freelancer and haven't gotten paid yet. The secretary was helpful. "You get paid every two weeks, on the middle and last day of the month, except weekends, and in that case, blah blah..." So I get paid every two weeks? Great, how come I haven't seen anything? "You should go to Min, the finance guy," she says. I go to Min and he said, "Talk to Manabu, your boss." "I've talked to him already," I said, "and he said you guys figure it out." Yeah. Invoice? What invoice? I thought I was just going to turn in a timesheet? That's what the MD told me. "Uh, I dunno," said the finance guy. "But Katie, my boss, will be back Monday." That's funny. I spoke to Katie last week and she said I should talk to my secretary about it. Sometimes, woops isn't going to cut it.

Et tu?

I interviewed a model for a shoot today. I asked her age cause we're looking for girls 25 and up. No matter which way I asked, she wouldn't answer. "You look good" I said. "Give me a smile" I said. "25-35" she replied, smiling. Ok. I think it must be weird to have people take pictures of you all the time. "Turn around. Look this way. Tilt your face more." I guess you get to a point where you don't care who knows your face and your body and what not. She looks good for someone that old. Tucked and crimped.

UU

Boobs. I see boobs everywhere.