the good foot

Do you love James Brown like I do? Then let's get on the good foot! Uhn!
I applied to work in a book store online last night and today I set up an appointment to apply/interview at a nearby country club on Monday. Go me!
 While being a waitress at a country club is not exactly my idea of a good time career goal I'm told the staff usually take home between $400 and $600 a week! Can you believe that? That is within the range of what I made in a full time professional job in the big city. In proportion to our cost of living that's serious cheddah. And I actually do enjoy being a waitress, as much as that surprises me. I always sort of thought I would suck at it but I'm a bit of a natural.
 I'm just a little scared of potentially ultra entitled country clubbers. I mean, I've got a great smile, I'm ultra super sweet and well mannered and I know how to thicken up that southern accent when need be. I should have them eating out of my hands and over tipping in no time. I just hate being treated like an peasant, an idiot or both. Also? People always think I am as much as a decade younger than I am. In someways this works to my advantage, I think. But it also means that people sometimes treat me like I'm a decade less experienced than I am and that's hard for me to deal with. What can I say?


Whatever employment I am able to gain/chose I want to leave myself enough time to paint. I've got 5 paintings in process. Three of them are pretty bad but think at least two of them have potential and I'd like to find out. And I have a painting I started a few years ago of my childhood dog that I would like to complete, for sentimental reasons. 
I still want to get that kiln built and make some pots too. Maybe even some freakie yard art or a pond sculpture. Some installations perhaps?


I'm going to try and muster up the courage to go talk to the two local potters I'm aware of and see if I can barter for or rent some kiln space in the mean time. Frandz and I are working out a name for our decrepit domicile, the doublewide. He says Victoria. I'm thinking Betty Lou. Either way I don't think the old gal will mind if I get her a little muddy. It would sort of tie in with the mushy parts of the floor anyway. 


I did take my remaining pots to the art gallery in town. Its an interesting sort of set up. You rent your space in the gallery but you get 100% of the income from any sale of your work. We'll see how it goes. I figure I'll give it through xmas. I'm just proud of myself for getting it out there. I'm planning on taking some photos and a few painting down too. It's a start. 


After losing my job...again, and a slew of other negative thoughts I was feeling pretty blue about the whole situation here again. But today I was driving down the road, listening to The Cure and feeling like everything was going to be alright. Snippets of blue sky were starting to peak out from behind the clouds, literally and figuratively. I had an all over feeling of well being. A feeling like some of the yuck is effectively being purged. The venom is in fact seeping out. It might even be nearing the end? I felt like regular me, optimistic. 


I think I'm on the good foot.