DID ANYONE MISS ME?!?!?!

"Well, another Oregon Good morning to you from K-R-A-B...."

So i'm back again after seven months of silence. I decided to start another livejournal during a fit of boredom i was battling with the other morning after i awoke suddenly from a dream about a rabid dog biting me. So much for bunnies, rainbows, and puffy clouds.
Well, i suppose i should start with the basics...i no longer work at Barnes and Noble. Yes, i have departed the noble bookstore and become an employee for Hell's Outhouse...oh...i mean Belk. It is positively the worst job i have ever had, but i tend to complain ;)
I was going to look for a new job today, but then i realized that i didn't want to get off the couch. So i decided to suck it up at Belk and half-ass my way through the days. I do have good hours, that is undeniable, but management is hard to deal with. They are the Neo-Nazis, and i am the Jew.
Starcher is supposed to be opening offices in New Orleans this week. People from LA and New York are supposed to come down and review the talent base. I was told i would be notified. I was also told i would be paid for jobs i did in early May and early June and i haven't seen one red cent. I'm split down the middle about that man.
Half of me thinks, "ok, he's a busy man with over 300 people to look after. Naturally, he's going to forget things."
Then the other half of me thinks, "ok, he's wearing stained t-shirts every time i see him, i haven't been paid, and he sends me on bullshit auditions."

WHICH REMINDS ME!

So a few weeks ago, Starcher called my house and told my mom (i was at work) about an audition in Moblie for a Casino. It would pay at least $400, and if it was picked up to run a second time, i'd get more money. Of course, i went for it. I didn't go alone. No, crossing state lines is far too dangerous for a legal adult, so my mom drove me. We found the place where we were supposed to go, a place called Barefoot Models, located behind a Burger King. Already, a good sign. We walked through the door and i signed in. My mom and i sat on a horribly uncomfortable couch for about 30 minutes listening to the young receptionist talk on her cell phone. I did not like her. Finally, the assistant to the director, a middle aged lady who thought she was 13 (she was in a tank top that made her boobs look disgustingly saggy). She called my name, looked at me as i rose my hand and then glanced at my mother....

"Who are you?" she asked.
My mother quickly pointed to me and said, "her mother."
Then saggers looked at me and asked, "how old are you?"
"18", i replied in a confused tone.
"Oh..yeah, you can't audition. This commercial is a bar scene."

Thanks for nothing asshat