Someone got a job today and her name rhymes with posie.

I'm employed yet again. Maybe it's my charm, maybe it's my whit, or maybe it's the fact that I've had so many damn jobs I know all the bullshit answers that they want to hear. I don't know. I woke up this morning and told myself, "Today Rosie, you will be one of THOSE women." Suzanne and I dubbed them SHARKS when we were looking for jobs in Portland. Sharks are women that walk into a room with their pointy stiletos on and they know and GET what they want. They know what POWER is. Today I said, "Rosie, be a shark." But I am incapable of this. I am the kind of girl that, more than likely, will trip over the threshold into a room. My idea of "Power Clothes" is a nice skirt and my brown alligator Banana Republic purse, topped off with a messy ponytail. But today my wallflower charms prevailed. I got a real life grown up job. I am now the personal assistant/ runner for a Ms. Tracey Granvelson. She is a nurse manager/ pharmaceutical sales women/ owner of Compliance Alliance. These are all fancy terms that mean she is obviously important enough to need a personal assistant. My one friend in Vegas, Katie, is her nanny. i start on Monday. I'm excited and yet always torn with this Altruistic feeling that I am slowly becoming a Yuppie Cheese Ball Head. I have waxed philosophy about the pharmaceutical business being close to the Anti-Christ because they make it so difficult for most Americans to afford prescription medication, and ironically enough the job I'm taking offers benefits. Why must my head and my heart always be so conflicted? Anyhow. Here is the VEGAS MOMENT OF THE DAY: After my interview I was driving home, I pulled up to a stop light and looked to my left, and lone behold the Vegas moment of the day. An elderly black man, driving a pimped out lowered Cadillac, windows down blaring what was the likes of James Brown, puffing away on his pipe. All I could do was smile, he then shot me back the biggest tooth less grin I've ever seen. I think he was a retired pimp. Man this city. This is getting long and my Grandma just started yelling a slew of profanity at the new coffee maker, I think I better go mediate, for the coffee makers sake.