My BlackBerry's keypad has ceased to function, it won't respond to any touch. (which is not unlike me, as i'm frigid...)
So far i've gotten mostly emails, which can be checked online, which eliminates them from the alerts on my phone, and when i take the battery out and reboot the phone, i can see briefly how many messages i've got. last i checked it said there were six unread messages and five missed calls, and i've gotten one voicemail, which takes care of those notices, because they're only going to be five phone call notices and one voice mail notice, that means no one's texted me, which is good and bad, good that i'm not missing anything and bad that i'm unpopular it seems.
le sigh.
Saturday, June 25, 2011
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
story time
It's almost four in the morning and I can't sleep, so I thought I would tell you a story.
A lot of my friends know that when I was 19, just about to turn 20, my mom kicked me out of the house. I came to NYC on a bus and so on and so forth and stayed for five years. Since then my mom and I have patched things up and I am now back living at the same house I was once thrown out of, life really does come full circle, doesn't it?
Thing is, I grew up in a very small town in Ohio, there were about five thousand residents living there when my parents moved there in 1990, and when my mom and siblings and I left in 2005, enough people had left that the town had to be downgraded from city to village status. So you get the picture, we are talking SMALL. Everyone knows everyone, as well as everyone's business is discussed on a daily basis, everywhere. You don't have to go to a hair salon to hear about Amanda getting knocked up and what does her mother Sally think? And oh that poor girl, her future is gone now. No, you will hear about it AT THE GROCERY STORE.
As you can imagine, I didn't get much exposure to the big, bad world living in a small town like this.
Skipping ahead...
I'm new to the city, about three months in, and I've just been lucky enough to meet a man on the subway who tells me about the Covenant House, I go there and they accept me. Mind you, that to me the city is a big, scary place to me at this point and I still have my small town manners and trust about me. Going around saying things like "Good Morning" and "How are you, today?" and "Hello!" And just leaving my few personal items about, trusting that no one would abscond with them.
The Covenant House is in Midtown on 8th Avenue, and one avenue over, on 9th there was an adult shelter, I would walk by there and always see crowds of people outside. I didn't know at the time, but I later found out through gossip in the House that Pimps picked up their Working Girls in that area.
I was walking by there one day and I met a guy, he was a bit older than me, but I didn't mind that. I was just happy that someone was paying some kind of attention to me, fresh off my mother abandonment shenanigan.
I saw him a few times, and we talked on the phone, and he bought me a few things, which I was surprised by and it completely won me over.
One day he invited me to take a ride with him in his car. It was a white Range Rover. So fancy, I thought.
We end up at a hotel. And I started to get nervous. I didn't think to ask where we were going.
I was so nervous that I didn't say anything when he got the room.
We go in, and continue to talk, I turn on the TV. He sits next to me and I said something like "Isn't this show funny? I love this show."
The guy starts getting impatient and I don't exactly remember all of what happened next but I remember him yelling at me and saying "What do you think I bought you those things for?!?!"
It was at that moment that I realized that he wanted me to sleep with him.
I had no idea before that, I was that naive.
He yelled a lot and finally left the room. And then I went up to the front desk and was instantly in tears. They were so nice and they offered me another room for the night, but I just wanted to go "home" back to the Covenant House. So I did.
That's the story, dear readers. Moral of the story is. Don't kick your daughters out of the house, unless you teach them street smarts first.
A lot of my friends know that when I was 19, just about to turn 20, my mom kicked me out of the house. I came to NYC on a bus and so on and so forth and stayed for five years. Since then my mom and I have patched things up and I am now back living at the same house I was once thrown out of, life really does come full circle, doesn't it?
Thing is, I grew up in a very small town in Ohio, there were about five thousand residents living there when my parents moved there in 1990, and when my mom and siblings and I left in 2005, enough people had left that the town had to be downgraded from city to village status. So you get the picture, we are talking SMALL. Everyone knows everyone, as well as everyone's business is discussed on a daily basis, everywhere. You don't have to go to a hair salon to hear about Amanda getting knocked up and what does her mother Sally think? And oh that poor girl, her future is gone now. No, you will hear about it AT THE GROCERY STORE.
As you can imagine, I didn't get much exposure to the big, bad world living in a small town like this.
Skipping ahead...
I'm new to the city, about three months in, and I've just been lucky enough to meet a man on the subway who tells me about the Covenant House, I go there and they accept me. Mind you, that to me the city is a big, scary place to me at this point and I still have my small town manners and trust about me. Going around saying things like "Good Morning" and "How are you, today?" and "Hello!" And just leaving my few personal items about, trusting that no one would abscond with them.
The Covenant House is in Midtown on 8th Avenue, and one avenue over, on 9th there was an adult shelter, I would walk by there and always see crowds of people outside. I didn't know at the time, but I later found out through gossip in the House that Pimps picked up their Working Girls in that area.
I was walking by there one day and I met a guy, he was a bit older than me, but I didn't mind that. I was just happy that someone was paying some kind of attention to me, fresh off my mother abandonment shenanigan.
I saw him a few times, and we talked on the phone, and he bought me a few things, which I was surprised by and it completely won me over.
One day he invited me to take a ride with him in his car. It was a white Range Rover. So fancy, I thought.
We end up at a hotel. And I started to get nervous. I didn't think to ask where we were going.
I was so nervous that I didn't say anything when he got the room.
We go in, and continue to talk, I turn on the TV. He sits next to me and I said something like "Isn't this show funny? I love this show."
The guy starts getting impatient and I don't exactly remember all of what happened next but I remember him yelling at me and saying "What do you think I bought you those things for?!?!"
It was at that moment that I realized that he wanted me to sleep with him.
I had no idea before that, I was that naive.
He yelled a lot and finally left the room. And then I went up to the front desk and was instantly in tears. They were so nice and they offered me another room for the night, but I just wanted to go "home" back to the Covenant House. So I did.
That's the story, dear readers. Moral of the story is. Don't kick your daughters out of the house, unless you teach them street smarts first.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Sunday, June 19, 2011
my morbid brain
I'm listening to National Public Radio right now and the announcer, radio guy, radio dj, what do you call them? Well, whatever he is, he just commented on the weather. He said "It is going to be uh... uh...kind of... traditional summer weather."
Readers, I have been meaning to comment on this for some time. Do you know that when the radio guy did those pregnant pauses my brain instantly thought "OH GOD, A TORNADO IS COMING, WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE!!" and then he said "traditional summer weather" and I felt silly.
thanks, brain.
I have come to the conclusion that some people have more of a happy natural chemical cocktail in their brains. My brain has always been more morbid than most.
For example, I was out at Starbucks with my friend Matt the other day, Matt's blog here, and we were discussing his family, and he told me that his sister was married to a surgeon. To which I exclaimed:
"A surgeon? My god, why would you want to be married to someone who knows exactly where to cut you to make you bleed out?"
Matt laughed and said "Well, you gotta look at it positively, he also knows how to save her."
"Wow, I never would have thought about it that way."
thanks, brain.
Upon doing some introspection, which is one of my favorite things to do, I have decided that I am going to make an active effort to shift my thought patterns into the more positive realm. I think this will do me a world of good and also it will probably help me to be less rigid.
Readers, I have been meaning to comment on this for some time. Do you know that when the radio guy did those pregnant pauses my brain instantly thought "OH GOD, A TORNADO IS COMING, WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE!!" and then he said "traditional summer weather" and I felt silly.
thanks, brain.
I have come to the conclusion that some people have more of a happy natural chemical cocktail in their brains. My brain has always been more morbid than most.
For example, I was out at Starbucks with my friend Matt the other day, Matt's blog here, and we were discussing his family, and he told me that his sister was married to a surgeon. To which I exclaimed:
"A surgeon? My god, why would you want to be married to someone who knows exactly where to cut you to make you bleed out?"
Matt laughed and said "Well, you gotta look at it positively, he also knows how to save her."
"Wow, I never would have thought about it that way."
thanks, brain.
Upon doing some introspection, which is one of my favorite things to do, I have decided that I am going to make an active effort to shift my thought patterns into the more positive realm. I think this will do me a world of good and also it will probably help me to be less rigid.
Saturday, June 18, 2011
shoo fly, don't bother me.
I really love summer.
but there is one thing about it that I DEFINITELY hate.
houseflies.
Oh sure, you put up screens in all the windows, but the more robust and determined flies always find a way in.
they. always. find. a. way. in.
And then do you know what they do?
They fly around my head!
incessantly.
I didn't think my dandruff was that bad.
yes, it is.
Okay, it is.
In fact, I think my dandruff is so bad, that the flies prefer it to my guinea pigs freshly laid poops.
This just in:
I have no idea if houseflies are even attracted to dandruff.
Switching gears.
The job hunt continues.
Unfortunately.
Thursday I had an interview at the most prestigious temp agency here in town, where I was made to take tests like, figuring out which words are spelled incorrectly, multiplication, subtraction, division, and addition.
I do hope I remembered to carry the one.
The nice lady said she double checked, but she didn't have any job openings for me, and to give her a call in a week, and that they would check my references.
I trust they'll say nice things about me. I have to put on my to do list to send them a nice fruit basket.
This Monday I'm going downtown again to see if they need any artist models at an art center downtown.
Naturally, if all else fails I can always get naked.
but there is one thing about it that I DEFINITELY hate.
houseflies.
Oh sure, you put up screens in all the windows, but the more robust and determined flies always find a way in.
they. always. find. a. way. in.
And then do you know what they do?
They fly around my head!
incessantly.
I didn't think my dandruff was that bad.
yes, it is.
Okay, it is.
In fact, I think my dandruff is so bad, that the flies prefer it to my guinea pigs freshly laid poops.
This just in:
I have no idea if houseflies are even attracted to dandruff.
Switching gears.
The job hunt continues.
Unfortunately.
Thursday I had an interview at the most prestigious temp agency here in town, where I was made to take tests like, figuring out which words are spelled incorrectly, multiplication, subtraction, division, and addition.
I do hope I remembered to carry the one.
The nice lady said she double checked, but she didn't have any job openings for me, and to give her a call in a week, and that they would check my references.
I trust they'll say nice things about me. I have to put on my to do list to send them a nice fruit basket.
This Monday I'm going downtown again to see if they need any artist models at an art center downtown.
Naturally, if all else fails I can always get naked.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
on performing comedy
I went to an open mic night tonight. I had a really great time. I killed it. And I got two invitations to other shows in the area. I am so proud of myself right now. And one invitation, the guy says to me I have an open invitation to perform there every week and I can tell him how long I want my set to be. THAT IS SO FUCKING EXCITING!!! Yes!!
At this rate, I'll be a working comic sooner than later.
BOOM!
At this rate, I'll be a working comic sooner than later.
BOOM!
Friday, June 10, 2011
on why job hunting is something I could do without.
I took a walk downtown today, to drop off my resume at a shop.
When I got close by, a guy standing on the corner said:
"Are you looking for something?"
"Yeah, I'm looking for 'Puffs' Do you know were that is?"
"Yeah, it's right down here, I'll walk you there"
shit. what did I just do? this guy just invited himself to walk with me. fuck. shit. damn.
"OK..sure.."
We get to the store, the guy orders whatever he's looking for, and I look around the store, browsing. The whole place reeked of nicotine, and as a non smoker, I obviously felt like I didn't belong.
a job is a job.
"Are you looking for something?" An older lady in lounge wear said to me. She was holding a plastic bag, one hand inside of it and one out, by her side. She was standing next to the counter, across from one of the employees.
"No, I just came down here because I saw your ad in the Treasure Hunt and I'd like to drop of my resume"
"Oh, ok" She took my resume from me and glanced at it.
"You don't have any experience in cigarette or lottery sales, do you?"
"No, I don't..."
I actually do. Six years ago I worked at a gas station in Portland, Oregon. I sold both cigarettes and lottery tickets there. Neither of which are that fricken hard to sell. Give me a break, lady.
"Well, that's what I'm looking for." She said, and handed me back my resume.
"Okay, well, it doesn't hurt to come down and check things out." I said.
I turned and walked towards the door. The guy instantly appeared next to me.
"Let me walk you out." he said.
Get. Away. From. Me. Jesusfuckingchrist.
We walk out of the store, and we both turn right.
Stop following me.
"It is hot out, isn't it?"
"Yeah, but I spend most of my time in air conditioning if I can"
I know. Why do I keep answering him back? I just feel so awkward in these situations. Not responding and walking with a complete stranger is worse, I think. At least if you're engaged in conversation, you get more of a sense of how to extricate yourself.
"Oh, I can't be in air conditioning. It's bad for my health, I have all these back problems, I mean, if it gets to be 120 degrees, then maybe I'll turn it on, but usually I just use fans."
"Ok."
Why would you tell a complete stranger about your back problems? Honestly.
"Would you like to hang out sometime?"
"No... I don't think so"
"Ok, well, It was nice to meet you, I'll see you around."
Then he walked away. Thank god.
When I got close by, a guy standing on the corner said:
"Are you looking for something?"
"Yeah, I'm looking for 'Puffs' Do you know were that is?"
"Yeah, it's right down here, I'll walk you there"
shit. what did I just do? this guy just invited himself to walk with me. fuck. shit. damn.
"OK..sure.."
We get to the store, the guy orders whatever he's looking for, and I look around the store, browsing. The whole place reeked of nicotine, and as a non smoker, I obviously felt like I didn't belong.
a job is a job.
"Are you looking for something?" An older lady in lounge wear said to me. She was holding a plastic bag, one hand inside of it and one out, by her side. She was standing next to the counter, across from one of the employees.
"No, I just came down here because I saw your ad in the Treasure Hunt and I'd like to drop of my resume"
"Oh, ok" She took my resume from me and glanced at it.
"You don't have any experience in cigarette or lottery sales, do you?"
"No, I don't..."
I actually do. Six years ago I worked at a gas station in Portland, Oregon. I sold both cigarettes and lottery tickets there. Neither of which are that fricken hard to sell. Give me a break, lady.
"Well, that's what I'm looking for." She said, and handed me back my resume.
"Okay, well, it doesn't hurt to come down and check things out." I said.
I turned and walked towards the door. The guy instantly appeared next to me.
"Let me walk you out." he said.
Get. Away. From. Me. Jesusfuckingchrist.
We walk out of the store, and we both turn right.
Stop following me.
"It is hot out, isn't it?"
"Yeah, but I spend most of my time in air conditioning if I can"
I know. Why do I keep answering him back? I just feel so awkward in these situations. Not responding and walking with a complete stranger is worse, I think. At least if you're engaged in conversation, you get more of a sense of how to extricate yourself.
"Oh, I can't be in air conditioning. It's bad for my health, I have all these back problems, I mean, if it gets to be 120 degrees, then maybe I'll turn it on, but usually I just use fans."
"Ok."
Why would you tell a complete stranger about your back problems? Honestly.
"Would you like to hang out sometime?"
"No... I don't think so"
"Ok, well, It was nice to meet you, I'll see you around."
Then he walked away. Thank god.
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