money money money (from archaica)

NY Magazine's Guide to Who Makes How Much - 2005. A list of salaries from panhandlers to CEOs making billions of dollars a year.

A short sample:

David Letterman: 31 million
Jon Stewart: 1.5 million
Edward Lampert (Manager, ESL Investments hedge fund): 1.02 billion
Travis Harris Shoe-shiner, Wall Street ($20 a day, three days a week): 3,120



[x-posted to nikkinewsnet]

booty, ho!

Today has been a day of DOING things.

Grown-up Things

- called my Allstate agent and finally switched my policy over from Port Orchard to Seattle

- and on that note, decided to finally get renter's insurance

- decided that even though I've been without medical benefits for three years, I should finally take advantage of the benefits plan (at least Short Term Major Medical) offered by my contractor agency; this decision would be much facilitated by their voice-messaging system actually working (*hiss*)

- called my dad to ask our family accountant to fax me the 2004 tax returns, which I still haven't found, grrr


Consumer Whore Things

- after five million years of dithering between shiny and economy, shiny won out and my silver, 6GB iPod mini will arrive on Wednesday, and lo there will be squeeeing (if I find I love it and use it all the time, I will someday upgrade)

- placed a bid for a gen-U-ine burberry bucket hat on ebay (selling for 1.99GBP), I bid at 10GBP through auctionsniper.com. We'll see what happens, I tried one on at Nordstrom this weekend with Jeanne and I must say I looked quite fetching, but not fetching enough to spend $300 on a fucking hat


Scary Things That Shall Make Me Hyperventilate

- meeting tonight with the real estate agent I decided on (Allison), post-work for discussion on what I want and possibly looking at a few properties; I hate this process and just want to be moved in with my plasma tv and new couch set

arrrr

Shiver me timbers, me day's almost o'er now. *stomps around on peg-leg*

(And so is any need to attempt pirate-talk. Gah.)

it's the great pumpkin, charlie brown

I know September's barely started. But this time of year seems to plummet through the holidays pretty quick.

My company celebrates Halloween. In a big way. In a "You are required to wear a costume or the Vice President will haul out items from her office and force you into them" way.

I don't think my cat ears, tail, and insouciant expression will suffice here as it did at Netopia. I thought I was off the hook, because I actually fly back from Oakland on that Monday and could just...not come in to work.

But then Jeff The Magnificent stopped by my office and said a group had gotten together for a Gilligan's Island theme. He asked if I would be Lovey to his Thurstan Howell, III. I told him I was going to be out that day and he made a NOOOOO-face, so I admitted that my flight gets back early and I was planning on coming in. Because, party!

So, now I must accumulate various items: a wig, a flowered mumu, a floppsie hat, enormous fake pearls and other gaudy jewelry, fake eyelashes, and a hollow coconut with a tiki umbrella and/or flower. The imperious manner, I already have down.

Jeff's going to wear his tuxedo with an ascot and hat and dear god, we're going to be simply fabulous, dahling.

I've been given the task of grabbing some old episodes so we can practice the accents and mannerisms! I can't decide if I should kabuki my brown face and/or make it look wrinkly or not. It's bizarrely exciting to be too-young for a role.