Archive for the tag "working"

I found Muze listed at FuckedCompany.com, that’s another place I used to work ten years ago.  There was always a lot of controversy there between the workers and management, so I wasn’t surprised to see people had complained about it.  But despite all that, we had a super excellent team back then, and I made more lasting friendships there than almost anywhere else I’ve worked.  One guy who commented on FC actually listed the nicknames of our whole ’93 crew and even gave me a personal shout-out!!  I mean, as one of the NICE people, as opposed to somebody he’d complain about.  I know who it was, too, and I feel the same way about him, and everyone he listed.

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Well, everything’s a little calmer today. I finally broke down and asked my dad for some money, and he said okay, so I’m very very relieved!! I really do have the best daddy on earth… he lets me get away with murder and I know this. I’m almost thirty-four years old and I don’t think a year has gone by where I haven’t asked for money at one point or another. I know my sister Lucie doesn’t do this!! But she’s a lawyer and I’m a musician… I know that’s no excuse though. Nobody should feel sorry for me when I bitch about money, because I MADE my bed… I totally CHOSE to be a musician, and I was pretty well aware of the financial dangers of that choice. It’s an up-and-down source of income… it’s like choosing to be a mooch half the time! I guess I really can’t get away with living off my name alone… haha… at least not yet. But it WAS fun while it lasted. Daddy did say "you have to get a job" — so I guess that clinches it, I will be looking for work when I come back next week. UGHHHH. Poor Daddy… I don’t envy him, getting saddled with a daughter like me. I’m a handicapped child… my WALLET is permanently disabled.

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Note: This is a journal entry — it was written on paper or on my computer, then transferred to my website, maybe years later.

God, I have so much to catch up on.  Guess I’ll go backwards.

Just got back from the Mast where I met D. and we sat talking with Cliff and Sam and Godfrey.  Godfrey told us his "Frida" story — the origins of his rather unbecoming nickname.

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Note: This is a journal entry — it was written on paper or on my computer, then transferred to my website, maybe years later.

I spent the entire day yesterday thinking it was Wednesday and how that typing lady was supposed to call me back and give me the job-or-no-job verdict.  Well, now it really is Wednesday and she never called anyway.

Anyhow, Melissa finally called me today, and now I’m not so sure.  She’s definitely coming back for the first week in September, which seems just around the corner.  She’s all enthusiastic about us working together in the music department, really kicking some butt.  And Danny totally wants me to stay, it’s like unthinkable for me to leave.  So I told him flat out that I needed to know, one way or another, and soon, so I can "start" (ha ha) to look for something else.  I also said I needed more money.

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