Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Make Money Writing

    I am once again riding with my brother on the train to the heartland of Brooklyn.

    I spent the day on my laptop. It was cold, snowing, sleeting, raining and dreary all day. I canceled my appointment to see Dr. L. because I just didn't want to go out in that mess. I just didn't want to be bothered. I know I should have a more serious outlook towards my sessions but damn if I have to wade through some fucked up weather to have my thoughts turned over like a pancake on a griddle. I am happy to stay home and call the day quits.

    I read emails and surf the web. Well you know that by now. I also blog, and today I scoured Craigslist to find some more writing gigs. I found one:

    "I have 3 openings left for people who can do online writing work. From blogs to fiction and much more. I must fill these spots ASAP. Email me for more info thanks."

    Shit, it was just posted today, so lets see. I send them an e-mail requesting more information and I get this in my mailbox from BC:

    "Hello thanks for the email we have 2 spots left for the job. Here is the site that explains it all. Check it out and if you want it I would i sign up asap. Thanks"

    Well damn, I made it. Let me go to this site! I do, and go through a lot of blah, blah, blah about making terrific money writing nearly anything I want:

    "You're just minutes away from making great, easy money from the comfort of your home, just from writing simple articles, easy blog posts, or (if you want the really BIG bucks) by writing short fiction and non-fiction stories.... Thousands of smart people just like you are are already brining in an easy $1,000, $2,000...even as much as $5,000 every single week just by doing this easy writing in their spare time...and now it's your turn! "

    YES! It's my turn to make the thousands of dollars. I finish the registration and I get this webpage:

    "An "Unlimited Access" member- ship to the FreeLance Home Writers Private Site normally costs $69.95... But I'm going to take the risk off you completely with our Special Risk Free Trial Membership which allows you to see for yourself what all the hype is about. For only $2.95 you will have unlimited access to the same money making tools that thousands of our other members have for 7 days. Monthly membership is only $47 dollars which is a fraction of what you will make with the Freelance Home Writers system. Try this amazing system for yourself and if you don't like it, no worries you can call our 800 number anytime to cancel your subscription no questions asked. There are no obligations of ANY kind!"

    I've been totally scammed out of my personal information. Now they'll sell my contact information to tons of spammers and I'll start receiving all kinds of shit in the mail. I hate when I fall for these fucking things. As much as I surf you would think that I could see through these things by now, but no. I fall for them occasionally. That really fucked up my groove.

    But in this jungle of ads I find two good writing gigs. Both are internships, and both don't pay money, but I get to use them as references and put them on my resume. Good solid blogging sites that can keep my ass busy. I'm trying to be proactive just in case my online magazine does not come up ever again, or they can me. Whichever comes first.

    I get ready and split by Five O'clock to make it down the the Madison Avenue Starbucks to meet up with my brother. We hang around for awhile. He doesn't really want to go. He's addicted to his laptop and would rather sit in Starbucks, surfing the web. But he comes after a cup of joe to enervate him and we head out to Brooklyn. The F train is called that because it's 'Fucked'. We take the slowest train ride up to 18th street, deep in the heart of Brooklyn to reach a restaurant called the Green Pavilion. We enter in and go to the back where there is a reception hall, ringed with tables, and seated there are a dozen poets chattering amongst themselves during the break.

    My brother and I file in and take a seat, and order dinner. He has a cheese burger, I have a salmon burger. I could have made a better choice. The salmon burger was not all that appetizing. I stuffed my self on the french fries. My brother's burger was medium rare even though I asked for well done. Well, you can't have everything. It was inexpensive in any event. I tipped the waitress five dollars, because I had it on me, and poets tend to be a little stingy when it comes to tips.

    Hey, don't get mad at me, that's what one of our bartenders used to tell us at the SHOUT OUT. Poets are stingy.

    While sitting on my hands, I am suddenly called up by Evie, the hostess, to read.

    My brother reads after me, and soon the reading is over. Everyone mills about and I pull Evie off to the side where I conduct the interview, which takes all of five minutes. Then we take the photos, and all is done. My brother and I socialize a bit longer and then head back to the F train and uptown. I, for my part, want to get home in a hurry because I suffer from separation anxiety every time I leave my laptop in my apartment. I'm deathly frightened that someone will break in and steal her. I fret all night long. When things are over, I can't wait to get home.

    I get home and sigh with relief to find it on my desk, unmo- lested. I am very happy. I turn her on and get online. I have a lot of things that I want to get done before going to bed.

    Blogging is one of them.

    I still can't believe that I fell for that fucking scam.

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