Thursday, April 22, 2010

So you can't be a Capricorn *and* a criminal?!

I often enjoy telling people "I'm a Capricorn" because, though I don't really believe horoscopes and astrology hold much weight in the natural-scientifical-logic-y world, it is an excellent excuse for me to explain some of my more undesirable neuroses. For some reason, a lot of people in L.A. follow horoscopes pretty closely, so when I get asked about my need for detailed 'to do' lists, my devotion to my less-than-fulfilling job or forgoing things like "a social life" in favor of staying in to write, I can merely shrug my shoulders and say, "Ha ha! Well, I'm a Capricorn!" They'll nod knowingly, and I'm spared the embarrassment of having to say something like, "I have to have 'to do' lists because I can never remember anything unless I write it down. I actually don't remember what your name is, or why I'm talking about my 'to do' lists. Where am I?"

As a Capricorn, I make a lot of well thought out plans that almost never come to fruition. Case in point: The New York Move Financial Plan.

After doing extensive research (typing things into Google and asking friends), I came to the conclusion that in order to move to my dream city without a job waiting for me, I need to have enough money saved to support myself for three months, plus moving expenses.

I need $10,000.

That is not an exaggerated figure. That gives me about $2,500 a month for three months, plus another $2,500 for moving expenses and plane tickets. Unfortunately, I have never seen that kind of money in my life because I am a law-abiding citizen (but not in that cool way like Gerard Butler) and I do not have the patience to net myself a Sugar Daddy (the financial supporting type, not the candy, which is delicious and much easier to come by). I'm not a computer genius like Bill Gates, the only 'old money' I know of is the change in a piggy bank at home from my childhood, I do not have publishers salivating to publish anything of mine, and I do not play the lottery because as long as the Twix bars in the vending machine are 75 cents, my dollar bills will never see the inside of that 7-11 cash register.

This leaves me with two options:
1. Drug dealing, and
2. Stripping

The problem is that what little I knew about drugs from junior high health class has since been replaced by other important facts and skills, like acceptable two-letter Scrabble words and Great White shark trivia and general game rules for beer pong. Additionally, I have never bought drugs or sold before, so I'm pretty sure the interaction would go something like this:

Drug Buyer: "May I have a bag of drugs please?"
TAB: "Of course! Here you go. Your total comes to $500. Would you like a receipt?"
Drug Buyer: "This is a bag of Oreos."
TAB: "Right. Ohh... I see! Did you want the bag of goldfish crackers instead? Or perhaps this bag of rocks?"
Drug Buyer: "Crack rocks?"
TAB: "No. Just some rocks I picked up outside on my street. There's one in there that looks like a potato, if that should sway your opinion..."

That pretty much cancels out any hope of earning my thousands with drug money. The other problem that I have (just one, you say?) is that I have never been in a strip club. I have (of course) seen them on the teevee and in the movies, and I have read about them in books and magazines. I have a very basic, theoretical knowledge of what strippers do, which brings me to another roadblock: I do not like to be naked. Also, I'm told that strippers are often single mothers or drug addicts or putting themselves through school, and unfortunately, I do not have any kind of baby or coke habit or community college leanings.

Basically, this means that due to my lack of experience within the seedy underbelly of society, I'll have to get my money the stupid, legal way. So, if you'll excuse me, I have to go make another extensive list of stupid, legal ways to make $10,000.

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