The Kitchen Sink, Vol. Ten

I don't have a theme this week. In fact, I forgot that a Sunday post was sorta required of me until about five minutes ago. And if my second job hadn't called and said they didn't have any work for me to do today, after all? I wouldn't have even been here to post. So there's that.

That's right, y'all, I'm working two jobs. One that I love, and one that I don't really love but gives me just enough extra money that I can stay at the one that I love. Being a grown-up is way lame. But I guess I don't have to tell you guys.

Here are all the ways that I am trying to make extra money and the various reasons that they are never going to work:

1. Swagbucks

If you sign up at Swagbucks and use their search engine instead of, you know, that other one? You earn Swagbucks. And when you get enough of them, you can go to the Swag Store and exchange them for things like gift cards, deposits to your PayPal account, and various other items.

Pro: I'm earning Swagbucks for searching for things like "giant Twister board."
Con: It's going to take me a loootta searches to earn me some PayPal money. Sigh.
Irony: I just earned 10 Swagbucks for searching "swagbucks."

2. Tutor.com

If you can pass a short test to demonstrate your knowledge proficiency? You can tutor people online and make money at Tutor.com. Really. That's it.

Pro: I am uber-proficient at English and Essay Writing, byotch.
Con: I'm being wait-listed because what Tutor.com really needs right now is Chemistry, Biology, and high-level maths tutors. Sigh.
Irony: My sister, who is a teacher? Paid more out of her check in taxes than I make at my job-that-I-love in a whole month. Probably if we let teachers keep their money? They would get off of Tutor.com and leave the money-making to me.

3. Kids Consignment Sale

If you have clothes and toys your kids have outgrown but are still in good condition, you can trot them on down to a consignment store and earn a little dough while you make extra room in your house.

Pro: What I just said. You earn money and get rid of your junk. Duh.
Con: Getting your things ready to sell? Is a lot of friggin' tedious work. Card stock to make tags, safety pins, wire hangers, tape, Ziploc bags... Jesus.
Irony: I'd rather let the junk sit there than do the work required to sell it. I don't think that's actual irony, but I have a thing going here, and I have to keep it up.

Sometimes, when I am reading Suze Orman's column in O magazine and people are complaining about how they're "drowning in debt" but then go on to say that they make over $6,000 a month? I start feeling a little stabby.

That is all.

"It was... soap poisoning!"

Since today is Scarlett's 3rd birthday? I was going to post the story of my labor. But then I decided that would be way boring. And I'm not even going to comment on the fact that yesterday's post got no comments. I believe that's called irony, y'all. Well played.

So, instead, I will post about how Michael has accused me of swearing too much in my blog.

He read yesterday's post, and he frowned. "Why are you using the F-word all the time? Shouldn't you have said Allie-freaking-Brosh, instead?"

WTF? "Why?" I said. "I swear in real life all the time."

For some reason? Michael was all skeptical. "You do?"

"Yes." Hello? Has he not known me for like, five years? I swear. "I typed the F-word, and then I erased it, and then I thought, 'No, that's how I would really say it,' so I put it back in."

"Say it," he said. Now he needs proof that I swear? So I say it. But when someone demands that you swear? You do not sound at all natural. He frowned. "I don't know, babe. It just doesn't seem like you."

"Did you read my post about making dinner? When I said I planned ahead like motherfucking adult?"

"Yeah. And I was like, 'Why is she swearing so much?'"

Sigh. "If I type out 'freaking' instead of saying the F-word? It looks retarded. Because that's not how I talk. And I'm talking to adults. Adults read my blog. Not five-year-olds." He shrugged. He didn't look convinced.

So apparently, I need my mouth washed out with soap. Sigh.

I remember in one of my Psychology classes, our professor would show us episodes of "Penn & Teller: Bullshit!" And one of them was about swearing. They spoke to this lady who had a campaign against using profanity in public places, and she had this cute little sign made up with "$*@!" and a "NO" symbol over it. She took the sign around to businesses and asked the owners to post it. And you know what else? She wanted people to stop using swear words. "If you have the urge to swear," she said, "you should say, Santa vaca!" And she proudly explained how that means "holy cow" in Spanish.

WTF? If everyone said Santa vaca when they wanted to swear? Then Santa vaca would be a swear word. Duh. But substitution seems to make people happy. It worked for Norman Mailer, who had to change every single "fuck" to "fug" to get The Naked and the Dead published. And Battlestar Galactica could say whatever the frak they wanted, as long as they were saying "frak."

I stewed over it all day long. I started thinking that maybe when Michael said my swearing sounded "wrong," what he really meant was that it sounds like I am trying too hard. Trying too hard to be funny. Trying too hard to be "cool." (I am so not cool.)

I am trying hard. I want my blog to be good. I want people to keep coming back, to see what I will say next. It's like in Juno, when Juno tells Paulie Bleeker that she's in love with him, and he asks whether she means she loves him as a friend, and Juno says, "No... I mean for real. 'Cause you're, like, the coolest person I ever met, and you don't even have to try, you know..." And then Bleeker says, "I try really hard, actually." Doesn't everyone try really hard, when something is important to them?