The Golden Globes happened tonight and I totally forgot to record them. As long as Charlize Theron won for “Monster” and “Lost In Translation” won something, I don’t care what happened. But I pretty much concur with the entire track listing for the Grammy Nominees 2004 CD. “Stacey’s Mom”, Clocks”, and “Beautiful” all got recognized and most all of those other songs were damn anthems. I haven’t been this supportive since the oldschool CD of 1996.

So, coping with my loss of the prime Concierge spot — yes, I’m still pouting, man — has gotten more and more simple to deal with: I just keep telling myself that it’s a department that sucks and everyone who works over there is a loser. This actually works for me most of the time, until one of them comes to me at the desk and says something like, “Dude, can you break these hundreds? My tips are outrageous today and I need some $20’s for the cab ride home.” Trying hard to be content with my shit, man, but I’m just pissy, dammit. Today I was standing @ the desk, typing, and I next to Frank (the kid who got the spot), and a manager strolled over, shook his hand, and congratulated him on getting the Concierge position. “That’s huge man!” he exclaimed. “You’re moving on up!” Frank just chuckled and was like, “Yeah, I had a feeling I’d be moved over there sooner or later. I can’t wait.” I had to refrain myself from gripping the computer keyboard and smacking him across the face with it. I’m almost done pouting over this, I promise. Fortunately, I still posess my Front Desk secret weapon/superpower — Comp Upgrades!!! — and not only does it save the day, but often gets me hooked the hell up. Just this past weekend it actually got me some of those, tickets to see that, and entrance to play there anytime I want. I guess there are still some perks floating around my end of the hotel stratosphere afterall.

I rented Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? this weekend. This movie used to trip me out when I was little. I think Bette Davis singlehandedly made me scared of old women (”But ya ARE, Blanche! Ya are in the wheelchair!”), I was always just afraid they’d tie me up and kick me across the floor. Later on in life, I grew to find this as more of a turn-on when older women would tie me up and assault me on the floor… but this isn’t a red shoe diary. Ohhh, speaking of…

No offense to any of the cool peeps who read this here site, but remember how I linked to my screen name before? Yeah, that was sort of a dumb idea… cuz ALL OF YOU have begun buzzing me on the regular. No, like, for real. All of you. Some of you have even done the dreaded “U R SO KEWL, BOI!” shit. Err… while I love the attention, I think I should make it clear that I don’t plan to build a new network of chatbuds or friendsters anytime soon, not do I plan to start letting total strangers come crash at my place during their trips to New York this spring. I’m so glad you all really like reading my journal, cuz I really enjoy putting it out there and spreading my neurosis! I’m also glad that some of you think I have pretty eyes (they’re contact lenses). But guys, I’m probably not going to start chatting with ya on a regular basis, or linking to your AOL & Yahoo Geocities homepages… it’s just not really what I’m trying to do with my journal, and it sort of breaks up the lovely distance that exists between us. I’m a LOT more interesting from a safe distance, trust. But blog on and good luck, dudes. May the force be with you; may you eventually cease using text messaging as an actual reference for grammar and sentance structure, may you finally secure a webhost and proper domain, and may you one day have readers of your own to tease, taunt, and reject at your every whim. Progress, right?

I’ve got 4 days off from work this week, and starting tomorrow, I’m off to kick it with Randyboy. He’s dogsitting @ that downtown loft again and I can’t wait to cramp his style, dammit. Ahhh, the joys of life below 14th Street: egg & bacon sandwiches on the corner, Pearl River Mart, bootleg CD’s aplenty, and all of lower east side splendor at my beckoning call. It’s a good thing.

Why the hell did I record and watch The Surreal Life 2 tonight? That crap is seriously some of the worst TV I’ve ever seen… yet I’m just compelled to watch. Erik Estrada. Vanilla Ice. Tammy Faye Baker. With a special cameo appearance by Gary Coldman? This all just scurrs me. And what the hell is up with Trishelle? No, for real, I have some questions here… Between doing this damn show and skanking it up on The Real World: Las Vegas, the Playboy centerfold, skanking it up on The Gauntlet, getting punked for being a skank on that episode of Punk’d, crying about how hard it is to be a gorgeous skank in that Off-Broadway play last summer, and skanking it up on (upcoming) The Inferno, when the hell does this girl do anything else? I like how Erik Estrada was all reaching out to Vanilla, his compassion and fatherly advice sort of restored my faith in the humanity of has-been TV stars from the 70’s. Cuz it’d been lacking for awhile there. And yeah, Tammy Faye was cute and all, but she doesn’t even seem to know, does she? That she’s like, on a TV show. I love it.

I got outta work around midnight tonight and, knowing the deli’s and markets in my hood would be closed by the time I got home, sprung for some Domino’s. Had it delivered to me straight to the hotel and lugged that steaming goodness on the A train uptown with me. I’m pretty sure everyone on the train probably found it in bad taste for me to be sitting amongst the homeless with a warm pizza in hand (and clutching a 2-liter coke to my bosom), and for a moment I struggled with some guilt over it… but I eventually just plugged in my headphones and kept my eyes on the floor till I got to my stop. God bless the homeless people of this world, man, I know they’ve got it hellish and awful… but you know what though? so do the working-class twentysomethings in this world who’ve got rents, bills, and student loans to pay. I earned that pizza money, dammit, and I’ll flaunt my Meatlovers up and down the nation if the feeling moves me. Woot.

Been relistening to some old songs lately. I’d forgotten how good “All I Really Want” by Alanis Morissette actually is. K’s Choice had some kickass tracks back in the day, too. Remember that “Not An Addict” song? It was the damn anthem of my 10th grade Angst Period.

A mass memo to all the bored, AIM-less 9-to-5ers trapped out there behind the company firewall: I feel you guys. I remember the solitude, how much it sucked trying to get all my ubercool AOL friends to sign up on lesser-loved Yahoo Instant Messenger (still my preferred IM of choice) so you could chat the hours away. FEAR NOT, cubicle kids — look into AIM Express, it lets you sign onto AIM w/o having to download and install the program! Woo-hoo! I might be a little late to the game on this, but it definately puts me in touch with my peeps when I’m stuck at the damn front desk at work for too long. Now go bookmark that shit and shout your dawgs out.

Plans for tomorrow (my eagerly anticipated day off) will include a restocking of basic groceries, answering back some calls and e’s, reading the new Entertainment Weekly that I get every Friday, chowing down on more chorizo, and touching base with a longlost friend or two. I’ve been way too out of the loop these days. Maybe I’ll put my Christmas tree away, even.

UPDATE: they gave the Concierge spot to another boy at the desk. A really nice, cool, excessively talkative 20yr old kid who still lives at home with his parents on the Upper East Side and probably doesn’t have any real need for such a lucritive, well-connected and in-the-loop kind of job like this one. A kid who’s only been at the hotel for about 2 months (trained by me), was able to skip the whole Overnight Shift rite of passage and slide right into Friday & Saturdays off, and just decided one day that he wanted to hop aboard the Concierge Train. But whatever. It was a loooong night @ work for me, and that happy little fucker was just in the bestest mood ever.

Ugh, I can’t be mad at anyone but me. I should have campaigned harder, should have been more vocal about my interest in the position. This other guy simply wanted it more and moved quicker. My boss has assured me that I’m next in line the moment something @ Concierge opens up, but we both know better than that. It’s not like people work that job and one day just get absolutely sick of making insane amounts of money in tips or getting to eat free all over town or have totall acess to Manhattan’s VIP lists. I’m lucky if I EVER get away from that damn desk… I’m trying to be over it, already. Adding more fuel to this fire, T-Mobile deducted last month’s massive charges from my checking account this morning before I remembered to unenroll from that stupid direct debit payment program… now I’m fucking broke. All this shit, man. Just helps me see that I need to do a little less thinking and a lot more DOING. At least next time, if the opportunity opens up again, I won’t waste time doubting anything.

I can’t stop listening to that stupid Hillary Duff song about falling rain. Yes, that’s right: HILARY. DUFF. Shut up, all of you. I’d rather be pouting along to Coldplay, but now that I know how happy Chris Martin is with a wife and baby, the gloom has comepletely lost its luster.

Let’s talk about what a big girl I am. I just spent the last hour sitting on my futon, watching a late-night Best of Oprah: Making Viewers’ Dreams Come True rerun, bawling my eyes out with joy and thinking, “God, Oprah is just so wonderful!” Seriously, I cried like eight times. This woman just astonishes me, you know. I really need to get rich or something.

So I’ve been giving serious thought to the possiblity of transferring to the Concierge @ work. The people I’ve brought it up to have all seemed to think I’m insane for even hesitating on the move, the kids in the department all really seem to like the idea of me being there, and I guess all that’s holding me back is just my own insecurity. I’ve even held back from posting much about it b/c I don’t really want to confront things… just, the idea of me trying something new like this and exploring an unknown avenue — and possibly failing horribley at it? ugh, it’s just agonizing. I’ve totally been here before.

Part of what makes me trepiditious about the whole thing is that I am a firm believer in the notion that there is a perfect time and way for things to play themselves out. I’ve stood by every choice, every move, every job resignation, every breakup, and nearly every serious-type conversation I’ve had to take on, b/c I knew it was the right time to do them. I didn’t rush; I rarely do things out of sheer emotion or w/o giving solid thought to my choice. I’d really hate to voice my interest in taking on this job, get the wheels turning, and start things up only to suddenly second-guess my decision and put everything on hault… or even worse, take a step backward to exactly where I was before. Then again… I also realize that you can’t think everything out to it’s utter end. Sometimes you have to follow an opportunity and jump. There are other people I work with who are scheming, plotting, and vying viciously for a prize spot at the Concierge… am I going after this simply b/c everyone else wants it more? Let’s not ignore the reality of the situation: I have NEVER been interested in this industry, much less in working as a hotel concierge — I’ve actually gone to lengths to make sure they don’t ask me to fill in for people there. Anytime I’ve had to “hold down the fort” while the head guy runs off for a bathroom/smoke break? I’ve totally hated the pressure of being there. While I might be okay at the people-part of the job, but I’m not sure I have the backup frame of reference you need to be GOOD at it.

I’ve gotten into a safety zone at the Front Desk. Wild and occassionally nightmare-ish as it is, I’ve dealt with every situation imagineable and now sort of know what to expect. I’m prepared, innit, and I’m really damn good at the job. I remember freaking out over working this job, terrified of making unfixable mistakes or looking stupid in front of people. I like that I don’t worry about those things anymore. I like knowing that I can handle whatever is going to happen, it feels good b/c I know I didn’t always feel like that, and I don’t want to start all over again at something new and go through the same self-doubting. It would be awesome to be fearless and up to the challenge… but all I can think about is insanity ensuing. I close my eyes and imagine myself at that Concierge desk — a job that demands so much and has no official boundries (description-wise) — just NOT knowing anything. Basic things. Alternate driving directions for airport-bound hotel guests when the city is in gridlock. Getting a budget-concious honeymoon couple the best seat at an upscale resturant that I know will be completely booked full. Not being able to locate a missing FedEx package. Landing 5 eurpoean tourists on the guest list @ Crobar and making sure they have a bottle-service table reserved (but not being able to get anyone at the club to answer the phone). Thinking up the perfect NYC-tour for someone who grew up here and has seen all the typical stuff but wants something different. Knowing the distinction between something fun/quirky/exciting and something REALLY GOOD. Ugh, I could go on and on forever. How am I supposed to handle this? Why would I abandon the seniority I’ve accquired, the concrete schedule I’ve worked so hard to secure, and the safety of this trusty old niche I’ve carved for myself?

… cuz I’d forever wrestle with the truth that I held myself back from something new and undiscovered that I might possibly be perfect for. And cuz I’m turning 25 this year and it seems almost criminal to deny myself from stepping up some to a place with bit more prestige and better pay.

In upbeat, semi-related news: I may throw myself a birthday party this year! May 15th is usually a just-me-myself-and-I thing around here… but I think this is the year to do things up. I was out and about in Alphabet City with Randy last night and stumbled across this amazing new lounge called Anatomy. Sickeningly artsy and casual and not so different from many of Manhattan’s other trendy downtown lounges, but there was something about this place that just enticed me. I loved the lower level with the big sofas and brick walls and weird lighting. The woman who worked there told me that they’d just opened last month and really like hosting artwork of unknown peeps, as well as providing free performance space for unknown musicians and DJ’s. I’ve emailed them about hosting a party soon, so we’ll see.

In keeping with this bar-discovery theme, I spent a good chunk of last night at this east village lounge called Urge, where they have Buffy the Vampire Slayer Monday night viewings and follow it up with Wheel of Fortune/Bingo games hosted by drag queens. It was fun as hell. 2 for 1 drinks too, and even protien shakes. I think I just found a new haunt, winners.

Alright, enough of this. An all-new episode of One Tree Hill was on tonight and you know how I feel about Chad Michael Murray. The boy just really needs a friend right now. I recorded that shit, fo shizzy.

Be not afraid of blogging. Some are born to blog, some achieve blogging, and some have blogging thrust upon them.

*cough* RANDYBOY! *cough*

It’s about time for his arrival.
Go. Spread the love. I’ll wait here.