Fay in America in '06--let the campaign begin.
'Objects In Space'
Spike's Bitches 28: For the Safety of Puppies...and Christmas!
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
Damn Fay, I'm sorry. You should move to NYC. t /opportunist
Fay, much Find-An-Even-Better-Job~ma coming your way.
Fay, that flat out sucks. Much job~ma and everything-working-out~ma to you. (And your flatmate!)
wrod.
Cash, we are not far from UC Berkeley. I should check craigslist...hmmmmmm. Ok, question two, what would a reasonable hourly rate be? I have no idea what tutoring runs.
Fay, that just sucks. I like to think this means that the Universe has greater things in store for you and needed you freed up to do them.Me, too.
Fay, I'm sorry. I hope you find something you love, that you never would have found, otherwise. Stoopid 'murrican school and brit school don't know what they're missing.
we are not far from UC Berkeley.
I just emailed the Chemistry librarian to ask if they have a list of people who are willing to tutor high school students over there. I'll let you know if she comes up with anything.
Oh, thanks Sparky!!! Any advice on rates is appreciated too.
Fay - that sucks the mighty one.
Hey there, my lovelies - apologies for skipping some 300 posts. SO sorry to hear about your friend's experience, Empress - wishing them all health and heart-whole-ness in the wake of this fuckup.
So, yeah - not so much with the goodness on the Employer front in the world of me. But I've had a nice evening (singing in choir at the Christmas service at All Saints Cathedral, then going out for a couple of drinks with friends and fellow singers, during which we bumped into a friend who left Cairo last year and is now working in Thailand - but who has come back for Christmas. And then we sang carols all the way home. And I ate a peanutbutter cookie, even though I know it's just empty calories. Just because) and I'm choosing to subscribe to the "this is because there's something better out there that I'm meant to do/somewhere I should be/someone I should meet" school of hopeful fatalism.
'cause in this instance, I simply haven't done anything remotely sackworthy. At all. Even slightly. So they're being fuckwits of the highest order. And I don't want to work for fuckwits of the highest order.
...still not very cheering, though.