Bye Bye, Bank
October 14th, 2002The weather was so nice today that I couldn’t even stand it. New York is all about the Fall lately and it’s so damn nice What can’t it be Autumn all the time?
It was my last day @ the Bank and I was suprised @ how wistful I found myself. I guess when you hang someplace 5 days a week for nearly 2 years, you kind of form a little attatchment to it. My boss and her colleage took me out to lunch @ The Brooklyn Diner, which was really cool and sweet of her. It’s the same place they took me on my birthday… so uh, no points for originality. But @ least they’re consistant. Hee. She’s from Queens, as it turns out. Knock a couple of drinks into her and BAM! Bring on the loud, bring on the sass, bring on the catty little girl from the hood that I never knew existed. I was dying! They gave me a card that everybody from the office signed, it was really sweet. Also there was $100 in it. That was even sweeter. Ohhh these wonderful, wonderful people!!! But no, really. It was a great day, I’m glad I ended things @ the Bank on a nice note. They told me that they’d love to have me back if ever I wish to return. Awwww, you guys…. you’re all so dumb. I ain’t never stepping back in this hellish office setting again.
Hey have you guys seen the preview for that new movie with Kevin Kline? Sort of has a “Dead Poets Society” vibe to it. It’s called The Emporer’s Club and I highly reccommend you all go check this shit out. Why is Spriteboy plugging this random movie, you ask? Why, it’s another shameless act of self-promotion, of course! Remember that whole mess about me claiming to be an actor, like way back in my bio? Well, it’s actually not a lie. It’s true — I have proof, and you can see it in theaters nation-wide on November 22nd. In the film, I play one of Kevin Kline’s students @ this all-boys academy. I only worked on set for about 2 weeks but we did a lot of classroom/stairwell/school hall scenes, and yes, my pimpin’ ass did get a few lines too, so check em out. Working on the set for this was fun and sort of freaky b/c I went to a private school a lot like that, it was weird to be back in a uniform and surrounded by kids dressed the same. It was also a little fucking embarassing b/c most of the other guys playing students were about 14 years old and still taller than me. I don’t wanna discuss it. Shut up. Go see the movie though.
Hudson. Bright and early tomorrow morning. This means I have to start setting a bedtime for myself and planning my time wisely… dammit. I’m hoping things will pick up more and that I’ll just be so busy training that the time will fly and I’ll be shocked that it’s quitting time and I’ll be all excited about coming back the next day. See, that’s how it plays out in my head — in my inner world where I’m the star and all my foes are crushed under my power — but it never ends up quite like that in reality. I hung with the ultra cool bellman downstairs the other day, which was a lot of fun actually. I just shadowed them for awhile, and then I shocked myself by taking initiative and jumping into it with both feet. I was hailing cabs, I was pulling luggage, I was escorting big-haired women from Dallas up to their rooms… it was invigorating. I made $18 in tips! Ok, so maybe that’s not too impressive but I was only doing it for an hour and I was totally making it up as I went along. There seems to be a lot of that “winging it” happening @ Hudson. Like with the managers and my training? See, I still pretty much have just been left to observe and watch virtually all the departments in the hotel except for the one that I was actually hired to work in. Have I learned much about the computer system yet? Uh, no. Do I know what exactly goes in behind the front desk? Er, um.. pass. If I was put behind the desk tomorrow afternoon and asked to check Lenny Kravitz in, would I be able to do it. Hell-fuckin-no. I’m trying hard not to worry about this, I honestly am doing my best to just trust that they know what they’re doing here… but doubt is starting to kick in. Isn’t it supposed to be this big whirlwind of information thrown @ me or something? Shouldn’t I be feeling bombarded with all kinds of stuff to learn? Right now, it all just feels really easy and gradual. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE getting paid to stand around and look cool, but I’m sort of drama-free @ the moment and I don’t quite know how to deal.
I do look pretty damn good in my Front Desk Prettyboy Uniform though. 
The New Job
October 12th, 2002I am so gonna love working @ Hudson. So far, it’s pretty nice. I’ve been er, training for the last few days… ok, I haven’t really been actually trained in anything specific yet. Basically it’s been a lot of observing and watching and getting a feel for the way things are done @ this place. I spend most of my shifts standing around, being annoying, looking over people shoulders and laughing politely when they make a joke about something I don’t really understand. Lots of Hudson Lingo to catch up on, I guess. I’m not really sure what I was expecting to get, I guess maybe something a little more formal? I sort of had this image in my head of a large crowd of us newbies sitting in conference rooms, viewing ”Welcome to Hudson” videos on an overhead projector. I was thinking seminars and procedure workshops, maybe some teambuilding excersizes? Then we could all sit around and talk about our childhood nightmares, share personal aspirations and discuss why we all hate authority figures, and maybe just sing a few choruses of “You’ve Got a Friend.” But I seem to be the only one on that train of thought cuz anytime I suggest we try something like that, people just look @ me funny. Heh. I just kind of keep waiting for some HANDS-ON shit, like to be put in front of a computer and have somebody sitting next to me saying, “Ok, this is how we do this…” Maybe it’s too soon, though. They could just be trying to ease me into everything, which is probably the best way to go. Judging from the Check-In madness I witnessed today @ the front desk, I guess I should be glad that I’m not in the center of hellfire just yet.
I really like the kids I’m working with. They all have this sort of way about them, like they all own the floor you’re standing on. Everybody’s kind of witty and quick and on-the-ball, and it’s sort of a surprise to me b/c I like to think that most Beautiful People are stupid and lacking in personality. But this is not true, dammit. A lot of them are actually kind of warm and inviting – like, they’re genuinely nice people and they seem happy to have me on board (b/c, as you see, it’s all about me). I like them too. Oh don’t get me wrong though, I can already tell you there’s gonna be some straight up nasty posts about some of these bitches soon enough… but there’s no need to get ahead of ourselves before this even starts, right? 
Tuesday night we’re hosting the VH1 Fashion Awards after-party. Excited as you can imagine, I’ll try to keep it in my pants. I’m not making any promises though.
Sassy Black Girls
October 11th, 2002So I’m downstairs in the mailroom, dropping off this package for a messenger pick-up. It’s pretty quiet in the whole building @ work today, what with all the rain and Colmbus Day weekend or whatnot. People are kinda bored all over, you can tell. All these mailroom/messenger kids are sitting around laughing and talking and for a minute I wish I was a mailroom person too, but then I remember that it would involve a world of papercuts and daily exposure to anthrax. So I’m filling out some pick-up form and this group of cute mailroom girls next to me are giggling about something. It took me a minute to realize that one of them was talking to me. My mind sort of did this little audio recap and I figure out that she’d said, “Hey. *giggle* Hey handsome! You, in the cute pants…” I looked over @ her. “Me?” She laughed and smiled at me, this cute black girl. I turned red, “What’s up? Ya’ll talking about me or something?” (I said ya’ll. Suddenly I’m all Texas and shit.) Moesha and her crew giggled. Then this other guy down there totally tried to move in on my game but he didn’t get very far. His lame-ass cornrows failed to get him much attention and after a few minutes he just went back to his station. Dumb bitch — you have nothing on Spriteboy.
God bless cute, sassy black girls with gorgeous smiles and good game. I had a little strutt in my walk for the rest of the day. Although, realitsically, they were probably just clowning my ass. Whatever, I still love it and ignorance is bliss. 
Waterworld
October 11th, 2002Normally, I am a huge lover of the rain. New York City has been pulling some major Texas shit for about 2 years now, with all the heat and stink and damn sun. My love of foggy, wet streets and grey, overcast skies is just ridiculous; like, I just know that deep, down inside I’m really a British swinger or a Seattle poseur. So naturally I’ve been rejoicing @ all this rain we’re getting lately. I get to bust out my cool, broody Matrix coat and walk in the rain and be all weathered and beaten wet by strong winds… I get to pretend my life is a Radiohead video. But today it all just pissed me off.
I’m on my lunchbreak and decide to go waste money @ H&M (for those of you who are somehow unaware, Hennes & Mauritz is the coolest, most wallet-friendly clothing store in Manhattan). Nearly ALL of my gear is from that wonderful, wonderful place (the bulk of which was purchased on discount during my brief interlude as an H&M employee — no, i don’t want to discuss it. *sigh* EVER! It’s just too lame.), and today I was feeling a need to attain more shit to carry for the subway ride home. Well I’m walking down 5th Ave and it’s pouring outside. I’m without sheild, I am sans-umbrella. Its ok, I kind of like it. I have my minidiscman blasting that new song by Coldplay “The Scientest” and it’s quite a spiritual experience, I’m feeling all somber and naked, so what-the-hell-ever. It’s all good. Well, soon, my eyelashes are all wet and my contacts are starting to slip around. I’m rubbing my eyes, and smack right into somebody passing me by. Blind and bruised, I keep walking (cuz what fool is gonna stop, in the rain, and apologize?) and get to the corner of 52nd. An ambulence comes flying down the street and skids over the biggest watery mudpuddle known to man. Every person on 52nd street gets absolutely soaked in this shit — everybody but me, that is, b/c I’m a winner and God knows. So I strut right along past the poor bastards, not feeling the least bit sorry for their streetwater-drenched asses, and I swagger my way through the front doors of the store.
It didn’t even take 2 seconds. As if drawn by fate, my foot slid across a slickspot in the entrance and I took the biggest digger, face-first, right onto the main floor. WHOOOOOOOOOOOSH! We’re talking full-out LEAP into the air. I think I even made a sound, kind of like a squeak or something. And then i hit the surface hard and wet. My full-length leather jacket did not soften the blow, in fact, it only amplified the sound of my body smacking against the lineoleum. I laid there for a second, curious as to how long I could just stay sprawled out on the main floor of H&M before the sanitation crew came to spray me down and mop me away. More fearful of everybody’s pity than their ridicule, I just took a deep breath, stood up to my feet, and kept right on walking as if nothing had happened. Turning my headphones up full blast helped drown out the hysterical laughter from the masses.
Public humiliation will kill you, did you know that? It will… if Karma doesn’t beat your ass to death first.
This Is Ourselves Under Pressure
October 7th, 2002I don’t wanna go! I don’t wanna go! I start training in just a few hours and I’m pretty certain that I’m going to die @ the Front Desk tonight. What is causing this pathetic setback in my ongoing quest to become a hip & trendy New Yorker, you ask? The fact that they’re skipping me past the basic training plan and slapping my entry-level ass out onto the main floor instead. The fact that I’ve passively sat @ a desk surfing the web for the past 18 months and now will be getting on my feet and LEARNING stuff. The fact that I’m a big dork and might be exposed tonight when I buckle under pressure. What was I thinking?! All the pretty androids will see me for the lame little man I am, and turn on me — they’ll reach for their sleek, trendy cellphones and club me to death like a baby seal.
I realize how lame I probably sound right now so I’m going to ask you all to ignore me and just find a new page to read. Go read my new RANT or something. Please enjoY. I want you all to know that it’s been a lot of fun playing with you and should I not survive my training session later tonight, please let my mom know that this was not her fault. Also, tell the DJ not to play any Avril Lavine crap @ the after-party following my funeral. I’d like my gravestone to read: HERE LIES OUR BELOVED SPRITEBOY, HE… WELL, HE TRIED.
I go now into the glowing, pulsing abyss that is Hudson. I fear I shall not make it back alive. Farewell, my friends. Farewell forever.
XXXtina At Large
October 6th, 2002Speaking of skanky ho’s, somebody get Christina Aguilera to church and do it fast. Have you guys seen her new video? I honestly didn’t even notice if the song was any good or not b/c I was so scandalized by what I was seeing. Christina, what’s happened to you? You look like the village whore of that sea community in Waterworld. Don’t get me wrong, I am all for ppl embracing their sexuality and breaking it down, but doesn’t this girl look like she’s kinda starting to destroy herself? I mean, what’s with this whole “I’m a little ho-bag!” trip? With all the gehtto-shit she wears, the drugged out gaze, and the slurred hispanic-ebonics getting more and more prevelant, I’m thinking she’ll just quit messing around with speaking altogether and just start shooting all of us. I mean, I thought she got a little too into it in the “Lady Marmalade” video, but now it’s just sort of mutated into something larger than the rest of us. Now I know it sounds like I’m hating on her but I actually think the little ho is remarkeably talented, she’s by far got the best voice in pop music right now. Hell, it’s been what 2 years, and I still think ”What A Girl Wants” is the damn anthem. If I never had to look @ her and only heard her shit on the radio, I’d have nothing but great things to say. Does anybody else ever notice that each time we see Xtina, she looks just a little bit filthier than the last time? She’s gone far beyond just testing the Waters of Skank — the bitch has fallen in and drowned. I’m very concerned @ this point b/c @ the rate this is going, I think just looking @ her will give us all STD’s. I’m taking my TV and my cable box, and all three of us are gonna go get tested.
Guard your eyes, kids. The ho is on the loose.
Shopping & Nudeness
October 6th, 2002Target welcomed me back this weekend with open arms and oh what a time we had, ppl. I got some of that new AXE men’s body spray, just b/c the commercials make laugh so hard (plus I wanna have sex in an elevator just like that little nerdy guy in the ads). I also stocked up on hair putty, Crest Whitening Strips (do those shits work?), OXY pads, and a fucking avacado/oatmeal facial cleansing mask. Yes, I damn sure did. Hey, I have to stay young and pretty dammit. I will not allow myself to be the ugliest kid @ Hudson ok?!
I’m not sure if it’s just me, but ever since I had that talk with my supervisor @ work, things have been a world of better. We’ve moved past the civil pleasantries are even joking around again. It feels really cool and sometimes I’m like, “Awwww I should just stay here.” Then I realize how stupid that would be and also take into consideration that maybe it’s just all cool-cool only b/c I’m leaving in a week. And then I remember that not everybody in the world is as devious and calculating as I am, and look for bundle of wild vines to flog myself with.
So I got all caught up in the RoadRules Marathon this weekend. I kinda hate this show, but I like this year’s cast. I love how they played that bright and peppy, cutesy “American Girls” song in the background when the RR girls were all scarfing down that repulsize cow-penis smoothie and blowing chunks all over the place. That newest girl on the cast, the one they have as a replacement? She looks like this girl I used to know in Texas, or pretty much like any girl in Texas. Any girl in Texas who drives a Mercury, shops @ Forever 21, and works as a weeknight hostess @ Chilli’s. Has anyone else seen that promo for MTV’s special on AIDS in Africa? I realize that this is a serious issue… but why do we have to see it through “The Diary of Bono & Chris Tucker”? Is that necessary, I mean really? *sigh* Spriteboy, you watch too much MTV.
GorgeousRoommate has been gone all week, she got this cool job (acting gig) in Texas so yayy for her. I think she gets back today so I should really get started cleaning the wasteland that is our apt. I should probably start wearing clothes too, as it has been Naked Week up in this bitch. Yes, yes it has and don’t you dare judge me for it either. This might have also been my last real weekend to just chill for awhile and so I went no holds barred (is that the right way to say it?). Don’t worry, Jen, I kept it out of your room.
Beware of Falling Objects
October 5th, 2002I went to Queens Mall today and actually discovered an entirely new way to embarass myself in front of a large crowds of strangers.
I’m up on the top floor of the mall, having just exited Bang-Bang and failing to find anything cool yet b/c apparently, The Fashion Powers That Be are only interested in selling Justin Guarini shit. Hey, Bang-Bang, not everybody digs that whole Peasant-meets-Court Jester Look, ok? As “down” as I wish I was, I just don’t have the conifdence to grow out a blonde afro and rock the city in a clown outfit like that, I’m sorry. Anyway, so I’m wandering around, having a good hairday, lookin forward to meeting up with some friends later, I’m feeling hella good so let’s just keep on dancing. I decide to check my messages. So I’m leaning against the ledge of the railway that overlooks the mall and atrium, and dial up my voicemail when suddenly my phone vibrates to signal that somebody’s calling. I pull the phone away from my ear to see who it is and lost my grip on the damn thing… 
“Noooooooooooo!”
What happened next seemed to play out in slow-motion. My little Solo Motorola slips from my hand and plunges down four levels, spinning like a ninja star and smacking some random girl in the head. It then bounced from her cranium and toppled over the edge of the escalator she was on, smashing into the ground. Every single person with working vision saw this shit happen and, in unison, all looked up to see which dumbass fool dropped his cell from the top level of Queens Mall. Bitch, you know I ran like hell back into the store and hid! That didn’t just happen! That didn’t just happen! That didn’t just happen! After about 3 minutes of cowering, trying to figure out what to do (facing my doom and going downstairs to actually check on that poor girl just didn’t even seem like an option), I inched my way back to the ledge and peered over the rail. Some guy @ the bottom of the esculators had picked up my phone and was toying around with it. Mortified, I began pushing my way through the crowds of asians (it was Queens) and started my way down. I finally got down there and went up to him. The humiliation had already kicked in and I know I was turned bright red, so I’m not sure how the conversation went. There is no graceful way out of a moment like that. Everybody around us (and three levels up) were all just looking, pointing, laughing, and judging the shit out of that stupid, stupid boy who dropped his phone. I got my cell back, it actually works just fine (you folks @ T-Mobile ROCK), just needed a new faceplate. My pride, however, is still in critical condition. Not expecting a full recovery.