Extra Hours. Ribbit.

So. The Ex Man is going to be running a hot dog cart this summer. (actually, the plan is for this to happen from April till end of October.) This means he won't be working in the store. This means the Boss Lady gave me dibs on more hours.

And I took them. Instead of being 2 days a week, and one weekend a month, It looks like I now have 4 days a week, and definately the one Saturday or Sunday, but maybe more. And the hours are extended from a 5 hour shift to a 6 hours shift. I am good with this. So is my Visa and Mastercard. Which I lived off of all winter long.

It was pointed out to me that, although I earn $60 an hour when doing tarot, and $45 an hour with Reflexology... and this job is about $11.50 an hour... that THIS JOB is the one I can plan around. This is the one I can count on. The other two things I do are lovely, but I never know when I'll have work.

Did I lose you with all of the numbers?

Look. Here's a Kitchen Bull Frog.

Bull Frog. Get it?

All you gotta know is that it means I'll have more opportunity to find wacky ass shit to take photos of, and maybe I'll be inspired to feel connected again. (I've sort of had my head up my own ass at the Thrift Store lately. Don't feel like playing. Almost no bad behaviour at all...)

Also. The Bull Frog totally came home with me.

Grace.

Sultry Pirate Cock

Arrrrgh, young lady, yes indeed, this beauty here is my very own brass pirate ship. 

 

Would ye like to come aboard?

Look at the legs on this guy. He made me laugh. Even though he's doing his very best to be a sultry pirate cock. I put him on our facebook page, and he SOLD. For a dollar.

I hope it didn't hurt his pride.

Grace.

Awkward Cock

I'm always curious about how many curious pervs find this page by searching things like "awkward cocks."

Awkward cock

Hair art! I haven't done one in a while. I suppose a naked showering body just needs to wait for inspiration. Patiently, so the genius can just flow through.  I haven't had a lot of patience or time in the shower in the last... (how many months has it been?)

But sometimes, when you are putting titloads of conditioner in your dried out winter hair, inspiration strikes... And this is what comes of it.

Grace.

More Effin Stairs.

I fell UP the stairs. UP THE BLOODY STAIRS.

The last stair at the top is a little smaller then the rest, shorter. I think what happened is I was LOOKING at the shorter top step and tripped on the second last step to fall on my THUMB. On my THUMB.

It went all awkward and crooked and I thought BOLLOCKS I've broken my thumb.
I have a reflexology client in 2 days. Where the MAJOR movement is called Thumb Walking.

THUMB.

Eff.

All the good mojo needs to go into this thumb.

Stairs are assholes.

G.

The Effin Stairs.

There they are. I got a photo. Of the EFFIN STAIRS.

I do not like them. I want to write a Doctor Suess like poem about how much I do not like them here or there, but I don't like them enough to even do that.

Ass of Steel. I had BETTER have one helluvan ass by summer. I swear it.

Where's The Beef?

Where's the Beef?

I totally bought a $3 bag of buttons, because THIS ONE was in it. I've been wearing it on my green corduroy jacket. An original 1984 Where's the Beef button. I mean, come ooonnnn.

There were a lot of local old buttons in the bag. Most of them "vote for" someone I don't know, or for the library. There were also quite a few of those popular "I don't smoke" ones. I should get a pic of the bag....

Anyway. I'm like a damn superstar when I sport this button. Aw Yeah.

Grace.

Time Traveller. That's me.

I took this home from the Thrift Store. I knew it was mine as soon as I saw it. And, the Ex-Man priced it SO low. Probably KNOWING I would take it home. 

1970's cheesy self portrait. I'm a time traveller.

I had it stashed behind the counter, and the Boss Lady saw it and said "Oh, it looks like you!" And we joked about how I'll just use it as my mirror in the morning. But when I come in with unplucked eyebrows and chin hairs, she was to pretend that I look JUST LIKE THIS. Every damn day.

I also joked about pencilling in my facial scar. heh. 

I don't know about the Feng Shui of it - Hanging pictures of single ladies in my house energetically keeps me a one woman army. But, I love her.

Grace. 

Willie Nelson.

There's a man who comes into the store who looks so much like Willie Nelson, that in my head, that's just become his name. Willie Nelson.

Normally, Willie Nelson keeps to himself. Rarely smiles. I have to coax a "hello" out of him on a normal day. He's quiet.

Except for the days I wear a corset in to the Thrift Store.

Then, Look out. He's a Chatty Cathy. or Chatty Willie.

The first time he saw me in a corset, he had been coming to the store for at LEAST 2 years. Never said more than the minimum I would let him get away with. I'd have to nearly force the "Thank you" out of him at the end of a transaction.

The first time he saw me in a corset, he came out with a resounding "Nice figure!" Which made me cackle.

I've put this to the test. No corset, no wording from Willie Nelson.

With Corset:

"How are you? Oh, can you believe this weather? I'm looking for a such and such. How's it going around here? Things look great in the store! What's new upstairs?" on and on and ON.

I just don't know what to make of him. He's Always On My Mind.
But Only when I'm corseted.

Grace.

Buns of Steel.

I just spent 10 minutes looking through old photos of the Thrift Store, for a picture of the stairs. I don't have one! I'll have to get one on my next shift.

We have a second floor. With the reworking of the store, a lot more shit has moved upstairs.
Dishes. Books. The entirety of the kids section. More dishes. Kitchenware. Heavy ass breadmakers. Picture Frames. An ungodly amount of them. Puzzles and games. More fucking dishes. Lamps. Up the effing stairs.

I'm doing those stairs, on a SLOW stair day, about 10 times. Putting things away. Helping customers up and down them, either physically or helping them carry dish sets and piles of books or arms of kids clothing down them. On a busy stair day, I've done them about 30 times.

They are narrow. By this I mean both that there is only room for one person on them at a time. AND that my entire size 7 ladies foot doesn't fit on the stair.

By the end of the day, I'm doing them 2 at a time. Both because I'm impatient, and I'm working on my Ass of Steel.

To be fair, though, I DO sometimes go up there to get WARM. All the heat from the first floor fills up the upstairs first. I have been wearing a sweater over a long sleeved shirt, and usually my scarf and a hat until It warms up half way through the day. So, I could probably be doing them one or two less times than I do them.

I may start to wear ankle weights to work, though. So the ass will get steelier, faster. 

I'm not sure the ankle weights I have will match any of my corsets, though.
I could totally just put them underneath my legwarmers though. 

ASS OF STEEL!

Grace.