No more cute shoes

If you sent me a nice text message this week (Toni!) thank you. (I texted back, did you get it?).
If you put a comment in the comment box, thanks (Susan, you rock).
If I’m knitting something for you, rest assured, I am knitting it (Amy, I’m working on your scarf).

I spent my last week and three days before my job started this Monday doing this:

Honestly, he does it so much better than me...

I also took some time to hit up local thrift stores for last minute brooches for the fall show I’m doing, and just to browse. And on the final day, I cleaned my apt. like a crazy person.

After two days of employment, my No. 1 fear of my return to retail came to pass. Excruciating foot pain, accompanied by a little calf pain last night. And I didn’t need my mother constantly nagging me to buy nun shoes to know I had to pony up more than $100 at the old people/ortho foot store for some shoes and support hose. Thankfully, the saleslady helped me to pick some out that are not as institutional as I had feared.

They even had some pink ones I may go back for.

Yes, that’s the “e-reader device” I will be selling. It’s not so bad, except I am in the front of the store, and everyone thinks it’s the information desk. And it’s not. And by information, you know what I mean. “Where’s the bathroom?” “Where’s the local Kinkos?” “Where’s the bodega?”

Where’s my mind?

I like the dude training me, I swan, he is a dead ringer for Les Nessman from one of my favorite old TV shows, WKRP in Cincinnati. Please tell me I am not the only one who remembers this show? Anyway, he’s a direct copy in looks and personality. And fun to tease. But I’m serious; I really like this guy. He’s fun to make blush.

Everyone else is okay, but it takes a freaking village to run this place, I think there are about 50 employees and they come and go so eventually I’ll figure everyone out. I don’t think the asst. manager likes me but I would say that is relative to the world in general. I have my eyes open.

I don’t get two days in a row off, like, ever, and who knows if I will again? I am off today, and then on Sunday. I will get used to all this, I keep telling myself. I don’t know how long this will last, how long I will last. I am playing it day by day. That’s all you can do. If I don’t sell enough of these little things, will they can me? I will save these questions for another day. Right now my biggest concern is that I get Oct. 2 off for my show. I will ask a month in advance and pray. And say it’s for a wedding.

Next Thursday I’m going to see Breathless on my day off at our local art theatre. I am looking forward to an ice cold Coca Cola and some good old Godard on the big screen. As opposed to his new stuff, which is pretty much shite.

And I’ll hopefully have returned whatever honey and are watching from Netflix so I can have the Criterion Collection copy of The Red Shoes in my hot little hands by next week as well.

Feet don’t fail me now!


Burying the lead

Our A/C went out on Saturday night, and I’m sure it’s blistering hot where you are, but there’s no hot like a South Florida hot. It’s like stepping out into a wet blanket. No breeze, all humidity, esp. with the summer storms.

We endured the hotbox for Sunday and half of Monday, but God and the A/C repairman willing, we are good for a while now. To escape the heat (I’m telling you, we didn’t sleep Sunday night!) We went to the movies on Sunday to see Exit Through the Gift Shop.

It’s all a great put on, and either you like street art and one of its main purveyors, Banksy, or you don’t (I like it). Of course, I like anyone who does album covers for one of my favorite bands of all time, Blur:

I also went to see Ondine last week, as promised, and although it wasn’t as great as I’d hoped for, the cinematography by Christopher Doyle (Wong Kar Wei’s main man) is always a treasure to view, so there was that. And wee little Colin Farrell in an array of Aran sweaters. There was that, too.

So, I have some stuff to do the end of this week and next, because I got the job and start on July 20th. I hope it’s better than I think it will be, and that I get my dignity back. Although I don’t think retail is good for THAT, but well, you know. Being unemployed for 17 months will suck a person’s dignity right out, do you know what I mean?

Thanks to everyone for being so supportive. I think those of you here, and you know who you are, all five of you (!) have been more supportive than my “real life” friends. That’s really saying something. Let’s hope this one is better than the toilet-cleaning closet clinic job I took for a day, alright?