Thanks You Guys!!

I got your letter Area 19 (plus a few more!) Thanks so much you guys! It really brightened my day! I adore each and every last friend I have in Seattle - even the ones I haven't met yet (Hello Royal and Leah/Kevin Baby!!) I miss you and I think about you all the time. Kisses.

The Calling

What if I've made a grave mistake????

Last night I hung out with my friend Chris who lives in San Francisco. He loves it. He likes the people and their attitudes, the life style, the views,the beach... he just really digs it. It got me thinking... Am I really ever gonna be an East Coast Girl? I don't think so. I might be in New York City but I'll always be a West Coast Girl sampling the other shore.
I like scruffy boys, big art projects and outwardly wacky people.
New York is slickly manicured men, 7 million dollar art project made by one person who is probably French. I do have a little bit of wacky here. Let's be fair.
If I had any significant amount of money right now I'd do what I should have done (but never would have) when I was living in Seattle - I'd go city shopping. I'd rent a car and go through California, hop over to Las Vegas, take a train to Tulsa (because it rhymes)lay on the beach in Miami, spend time in Charlotte with Johanna and then spend some time here. (I don't need to go to the Midwest. I already know I don't like it. If it reduces it's huge cow population we can talk.) See what fits me best. Then move.
I've always thought you'd have to be called to a place. Like when a nun says they were "called" to their vocation. I just wanna take a second here and say I'm really glad I never got that call.
But you know what I mean! It's like God picks up the phone dials your shit up.
This is where I'm gonna be controversial. But I really don't care what anyone thinks at this point - I've moved across the country and I don't feel like I have to prove anything to anyone.
I think I might be called to San Francisco.
I have an interview on Tuesday for a three month internship at E! (Entertainment T.V.) If I got that... I'd like to think I'd find some way to do it. I'd wash some dishes on the weekends, but most likely I'd have to keep borrowing from my parents. We'd have to work something out. So I'd work at E! until September and have that on my resume. I'd also be Super Broke Girl! She jumps over buildings in a single bound! She lifts cars! She FLIES! All the way back home.... find a super cheap living situation in Seattle or Bellingham....get a job and pay back all my debts (including the fucking credit card I constantly have hanging over my head).... and move to San Fran.
It's a plan people. Just a plan. Who knows, I may fall in love, buy a dog and never come back. Just a plan.

Right Now, I just want enough money to go to Burning Man

Dude. Let me tell you what, looking for a job super sucks. I've got three, count 'em THREE (!) resumes going right now. One for acting, another for office work and yet another for restaurants. I'll do just about anything to get a job right now. Give me a tampon commercial: I don't care. I'm so bored. And more than that, I'm really hard on myself.
Now don't get me wrong; I don't regret leaving my nasty modeling agency job. That job will surely go down in the "worst jobs ever" book. If I had stayed another month there would have been nothing left of me. I'd be all teeth and bone marrow. And stress.
But, I think it's so hard for me because I had such high career hopes. New York is humbling. I like it though. It makes me feel more grounded and real. This is where I'm at - thank god I'm working on SOMETHING. In Seattle, I tended to feel like I wasn't working toward anything career wise. My friend Tyler used to say that he "worked to live, not lived to work." I used to love that saying. But is it too much to want both? A job where you don't even feel like you're working? Where you feel like you're enjoying yourself? That's what I want to work towards.
But for right now... flipping burgers? I don't care. I really just want to be independent and...selfishly? I REALLY want to go to Burning Man this year. I wanna get back to the playa and be with my friends who I won't have seen for over 6 months by that time.

Seven Year Old Samba

My little booty walked itself all around Manhattan today. I had an interview in Midtown and a temping agency at 11am. What a colossal waste of time. Thanks but no thanks Caesar - When you make me take all those stupid tests and then tell me you can place me by Friday... Wait a second. Transferring legal documents? I know what that means. I speak temping! Didn't know that did you??? AH HA! I know that "transferring" means carrying boxes of legal documents. Poop on you Caesar. Poop on you. You have betrayed me.
Then I came home for twenty minutes - Vonia and our friend Patrick were home. We decided to go get sushi in Greenwich village. Good sushi. Yummi.
I like hanging out with Patrick. He knows so much about the city. In fact, he's writing a book about the history of gay New York. Fucking fasinating stuff. As we walked today, he showed us where women's prisons used to be, turn of the century dentists' offices, and other historically important sites. We share a love for reading. Patrick's last book was a biography of Matthew shepherd's best friend and her work in the gay community after his murder. Cool guy.
Later in the day I went to my second interview at Soho Dance. It's a large dance studio on the corner of Broadway and Houston. I took a free samba class there yesterday. It was fun even though I had to dance with an 7 year old boy at one point. Holy backbend Batman! Also, I tried so so so hard not to get sweaty hands that I got sweaty hands. I tried, in vain, to teach Tim to samba last night (o.k. that sounded dirty but I meant it quite literally) and I failed. Not to be a teacher I guess. Anyway, they need a front desk person 6 hours a day, 6 days a week. The hours are later in the afternoon so I'll have the days free to audition. It's not tons of money but it buys me time to find my dream job. Or the job that leads to my dream job. The people are nice and I can take free dance lessons. Love it! Cross your fingers for me!


P.S. I'm loving the comments people!

Room With A View

I wanted to put in a few pictures for you guys. The view is the view from my living room window. We live on the 7th floor and the view is spectacular. If you lean your head out the window and look south you can see all of downtown. If you look north you see Yankee stadium and a really old light house beyond it. A good mix of the old and the new. It's been raining a lot lately. The storms come through and rain hard for 20 minutes. Then it's back to clear skies. That happens about two or three times a day.
Side note; I'm watching Days of Thunder right now. The thunder outside is rapturous. Almost as rapturous as Tom Cruises hair in Days of Thunder.
Other pictures are of JenStar and Monkeypants, friends of mine from Seattle who were here last weekend. They are a freaky mix of abnormally beautiful and super crazy. I had a wonderful time with them and they made me miss home. Thanks a lot you guys!
We went to a hookah bar last night called Karma. It was loads of fun even with the blaring rasta/techno in the backround. I especially like the picture of my roommate, Adam, over loading on vices.
Eww! Tom Cruise just met Nichole Kidman on Days of Thunder. "Tell me what's going on god damn it!" (Tom)
"Your brain was bruised." (Kidman)
The rest of the pictures are from my time in the East Village yesterday. We ate a long and lingering breakfast outside. We took a bunch of pictures but most of them are of people eating. I'll spare you those.
I've changed it so EVERYONE can leave comments on my blog now. Before you could only do it if you had a blogger.com or livejournal account. Feel free to leave me a message and/or comment on my posts.
I'm trying to put a counter on here so I can see how many people are reading this puppy... but for some reason blogspot is being really cranky about it. I'd love advice if anyone has some for me...

The Ring Was Not Silver People! NOT SILVER!

I bought an ipod right before I left Seattle. My friend Daniel told me that having one made the city into a giant music video. I've always wanted to be in a music video. So I bought one. I just want to say here that if I was in a music video I'd like to be doing cartwheels across the hoods of two jaguars. Like Tauni Kitane in that Whitesnake video. Why is "Whitesnake" one word? Ever wonder that?
I digress. Over the course of the last few months, my ipod has changed my life. I'm rapidly exploring new genres of music. I'm like sponge for sounds. There are a few that I've really become accustom to - a few songs that will remind me of this part of my life for the rest of my life. I'm sure many of you relate to my ipod phenomena.
Side note - for those of you who like crafty song writing and sweet lyrics, you should really go out and buy Rosie Thomas' If Songs Could Be Held. It's like a really rich desert.
Nobody does it for me the way Ryan Adams does. I bought his album "gold" when I was in college but I didn't get it. I was like, "he's boring. I'm bored. I sold my textbook and bought new jeans." Anyway, all this writing so far has led up to the point that; I really like Ryan Adams. I hear he's a royal pain in the ass in person but I'll never meet him so that's o.k.
I wanna give a quick shout out to all of you who have been reading my blog....hello Shoo, Bevin, Evan and everyone else out there. It's nice to know that my frantic ravings are laughed at by those who love me. Momsie. I love ya babe.
I was in the East Village this morning. Man, I dig that place. Everything is little, and large, and colorful, and really darkly lit. We went to a big out door market where you can barter/bargain for old dresses, eight tracks, antique bikes and everything in between. I bought a ring - I was proud of myself for bickering with the guy who was selling them. When I was done he called me "smart." That made me feel good. Then, when I was handing him the money, he accidentally brushed his hand against my boob. There was a horribly awkward moment after which we chose to ignore the boob brush. Then I turned, walked into a table, and then walked away. Ten minutes later, the "smart" girl's ring finger turned a bright shade of green. Crap ass.

Little Girl, Big City

When it rains here, it pours. That's the truth and it's sure is a metaphor too.
I quit my job. I quit my job and that fact makes me feel like a failure, sort of confused and really panicked. Is panicked a word? But I had to quit - I was caught in a really bizarre situation: a really abusive work place. People yelling at each other was the norm, almost the only way they communicated. I was stressed out by being yelled at for things I didn't understand. Who gets yelled at their first day? The day before I left, two of the employees got in a fight. One actually threatened to "fucking punch you in the face!" I found myself feeling sick on the subway on the way to work. I quit and I'm still afraid of them freaking out on me over the phone or suing me or something. Ridiculous. Brianna called me this morning and told me that when a person is in an abnormally stressful environment, eventually their body chemistry actually changes to survive it. Post traumatic stress. I'm certainly not saying that is what I'm going through now, but I guarantee my chemistry would have changed should I have had to say more than 6 months there.
So I'm taking it as a sign. I'm going to get a part time job and start acting. I have an audition on Saturday.
You know what I feel like? Remember puberty? Remember your brain on puberty? Now, I'm not talking 13 year old boy brain. I'm talkin 13 year old lady brain. You have absolutely no idea who you are, where you're headed, what you like, who you like, ect. I'm real confused right now. What I DO know: I don't want to leave NYC. I understand that this city has well known growing pains. Everybody feels them. Doin it right now. Somebody give me an aspirin! I got da growin pains!

Grateful For:
1. Being far away from models and those who shepherd them.
2. Having a weird and warm group of friends in NYC.
3. The advice of my Seattle friends.

New Things To Like About NYC:
1. Thunder and Lighting Storms!

Rizzo

I've started my job and all is well in the little town of Manhattan. My friends JenStar and Marshall (Monkey Pants, thank you very much.) are here. It was really wonderful to see them last night. I'm getting sort of home sick. My friends are having babies (yay Royal! Welcome to the world!) and having parties (prom/critical massive) and I'm just not there. It's so bizarre because when I was getting ready to leave Seattle JenStar would say to me, "Why arn't you gone yet?!", "Jesus! Just go! How long are you going to draw this out??" When we met in Soho yesterday, the first thing she said was, "when are you moving back?", "When are you coming home?". So it seems that the move wasn't real for a while and I wasn't the only one who felt that way.
There's a cat at 288 (bar in Nolita that our friends own) named Rizzo. She lives at the bar and spends her time doing one of three things:
1. Sleeping in a cardboard box
2. Drinking water out of her shot glass on the bar
3. Climbing into people's purses and bags and then falling asleep

I like her. I'm horribly allergic to her. She's like a little fuzzy bendy cow. I sincerely believe that she's the first cat I've ever met who liked me. I'm a dog person and cats know it. Cats are mean. Cats are snotty. Cats reject me. They look at me like I"m in seventh grade and they are Brianne Gordan. So you see, it's a big deal that Rizzo and I are in sweet love. She's my summer romance. There are only beautiful women and ugly guys in NYC. I swear. Should you find a good lookin guy there are 500 rich and beautiful girls in line to compete with you. The ugly fat guy with pretty girl ratio is really high around this place. I've included a picture of my new girlfriend. She makes my eyes swell up and my skin break out but I love her!

Got job?

I've finally roped myself a job. Wow. So I'm in New York now ain't I? Back to the forty hour work week... I wonder how that will feel? I'm just glad that I've chosen a job that will keep my mind busy. I can learn something and I can do it in a field that I find interesting.
Daniel leaves on Friday. Jess left this morning. It makes me think I should go back home too. For a weekend at least. But then I realize that I'm not ready to go home, I'm not in the mood to revert in anyway. I'm just living in between two worlds right now.
Ewww. I'm hungry.


P.S. For funny, less introspective entries; see below. Even I know this is a boring entry.

My Celebrity Crush

I've never been one of those people with celebrity crushes. When I was 13, I didn't buy "Teen Beat" and go Leonardo DiCaprio Crazy. I never really got on the boy band band wagon. I did have a moment where I considered it: New Kids on the Block was at the height of their career and McDonalds was giving away posters with their names on them. I think I thought, "It would be advantageous of me to like the New Kids. It might make me more popular." But I think I said it in a middle school voice. I mean, the word "advantageous" PROBABLY wasn't actually in there. You got the jist though.
I digress.... I've had one small flame for awhile. Since I was in college pretty much. I decided somewhere along the way that Paul Rudd was prototype for my perfect man. My end all be all. Really handsome, smart, successful and secretly, he's also overwhelmingly hilarious. Have you seen "Wet, Hot American Summer?" Wow. I really love Paul Rudd. For those who don't know who he is; I feel sorry for you. For those who do; watch "The Chateau" it's by far, the funniest movie he's been in and maybe the most obscure.
I saw him last night. He's currently starring in "Three Days of Rain" on Broadway with Julia Roberts. I was next door watching a boring show with David Schwimmer in it. Julia came out of the theater...people went crazy, the street was blocked with people, cameras flashed... I didn't care. Later Paul came out and I got a few great pictures. I did everything a crazed fan does... my eyes watered up a little, my cheeks flushed, I was shaking, I don't think I screamed. I do think I whined. It was fabulous. Pretty soon we'll get married.

I love Paul Rudd.

I'm not deaf. I'm just not a good listener.

Dear Blog;

Hi Blog! How are you? Good I hope. I'm really tired. I had my first fake day of work today. I say "fake" because it was sort of an audition for a job. They interviewed me and then asked me to come in and freelance for a day. I answered telephone calls from several people with complicated names and bizarre accents. It was hard. The complicated name/weird accent combo is difficult to over come.
"Hello! 1 model management!"
"Haylew. Dis ise Aleethzaw."
"Aleece?"
"Ahhhh...leee...thz...aw."
"....o.k. Please hold. (put them on hold), Vivian? Aleecia is on line 1."

Vivian: "Hi? ..... Oh! Hi Alex!! How are you dahling?"

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH


Thanks for listening Bloggy.

xoxo,
Beeethsay

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Chock Full of Heroin

Our coffee maker broke last week. You can still make coffee but you have to do it by:
1. Boiling water
2. Pouring water through the coffee filter basket from broken coffee maker
3. Using a knife to hold up little button thing on the bottom of broken coffee maker's coffee filter basket so the coffee/water can come out the bottom
4. Pour coffee from bowl to coffee cup.

Now this process may seem insurmountable for some...but I'm from Seattle. It is nothing compared to the thought of a morning without coffee.
I think I understand how people with heroin addictions feel. This morning we ran out of coffee so I made ginger tea instead. I was thinking to myself, "Ha! I've fooled my body! It will run so clean today - like a jet engine! Tea is the new coffee!"
Boy was I wrong. I went to go meet Vonia in Soho and have a picnic lunch (hopefully not next to urine but that's a whole other story...). Lunch was really difficult. Between the sun and the lack of coffee, I was useless. I kept tuning in and out. I didn't hear most of what she was saying. There was several silences. I might as well not been there at all. When I was leaving, she begged me to go get coffee. Ahhh...roomies know you.
I got off the subway, bought the coffee and made it. I got so excited while making the coffee. Yes! I feel better already by just smelling it!!

The truth is... it's not even good coffee. Good coffee is not an option in NYC. Everything comes in a can. You don't even have non - can choices in my grocery. It's either sanka, folders or one step up from folders. I think I want to blame everything on the simple fact that NYC doesn't give me better coffee choices. I have to drink "Chock Full of Nuts." Gross. That sounds like a gay porn video.

Things I blame on crappy coffee:
1. My messy room
2. My lack of job as of yet
3. The fact I don't look good in shorts


Above is a picture of my crappy coffee and my messy room. They are directly related.