Gold Star

Everyone wants to be good at their job. Everyone wants their boss to tell them that they’re happy with their work. My job is no different. And really, why should it be? Some time around the holidays the agency put on a photo shoot at a super swanky hotel for the girls to get their pictures taken for the website. Well, it’s April, and the agency is finally just getting the prints back, still unedited. My boss calls me the other day so I can approve them and pick my top three. It might be the fourth time I’ve met her in as many months. She tells me that she’s super happy with my work. They judge by my availability (every day I set my alarm for 8:30 and call in letting them know I can work, on days that I take off, they often call my just to make sure), my rejected calls (the number of times they offer me work, and I decline, most often cause it’s super late at night) and number of call backs (clients who want to see me again). I was really happy about this. I also keep a close eye on the big white board in the office which keeps a calendar of all this information for all the girls on a monthly basis. Averaging maybe one or two calls a day, I’m in the top 5 rankings out of over 20 for our agency. Pretty happy about that. I got my car paid off in 3 months.

With respect to the photos. All I can say is wow! They are stunning. Just incredibly amazing. I have never looked so good in my life. And they’re un-touched. I had my hair and make-up done professionally, by someone Ange found on Craig’s List. It’s so funny. Like I say, I am pretty, but I’m no knock out. Everyone has hang-ups about their looks, and I am no different. However. These photos, slap a bottle of perfume on the picture, and you can put it in a magazine. I almost had a little baby crush on me, just from looking at them. Ha ha ha. Possibly the most arrogant thing I’ve ever said? Maybe. Oh well. My boss said with these photos she is going to up my rates too. I wanted a copy of them! She wouldn’t give me one though. And I respect that. She paid for the room, she paid the photographer. Yes, it’s me in the picture, but I had no rights to the image. She was also protecting herself against me using these pictures for my own personal gain. (which I have no interest in doing, I don’t want to work solo) But I was hoping she would at least let me take a picture of the images with my iphone. Noppers. Well, they should be up on the internet by the summer, I figure. I’ll steal them then and post them here for you to see. 

Joke of the Post: I feel dirtier having sold out by putting ads on my blogs, then what I do for a living (actually, I was thinking about it, and I put up with WAY more abuse working in previous jobs, than I do in this one).