Safety Pin
January 20th, 2004Let’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.
Who Let the Blog Out?
January 19th, 2004Be 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.
The Quest for Chorizo
January 16th, 2004(Friday Five):
1. What does it say in the signature line of your emails?
“It’s not what you call me, but what I answer to.”
2. Did you have a senior quote in your high school yearbook? What was it? If you haven’t graduated yet, what would you like your quote to be?
I didn’t have a senior qoute b/c the administration scrapped the senior layout and opted for a 16 page tribute to the Flag Football team instead. But, for yearbook signatures, I alternated between shout-outs to 2 of my personal anthems: the rowdy-n-subversive “Hack the system!” war cry via Hackers, and the watch-for-me “Remember my name” warning via Fame. Both lame and impossibly posuerish, yes, but I was clueless as hell and had no idea.
3. If you had vanity plates on your car, what would they read? If you already have them, what do they say?
I am vehicularly-challenged. But if I could plant my vanity shit on an A train car, it’d read: Sweet&Low: Act Like You Know.
4. Have you received any gifts with messages engraved upon them? What did the inscription say?
My mom gave me a rifle on my 16th birthday with a card attatched that said, “Jesus loves winners.” Ok, not really. That was Becky Leeman, but whatever.
5. What would you like your epitaph to be?
He was so far behind, he often thought he was ahead.
(His hair was cute, though.)
***
Strange fact #42: Butterflies are called what they are b/c ppl used to think they stole butter.
*cough* I think a certain little somebody whom I know really well and on the regular (probably reading this right now) is about to get a big big suprise dropped on them… Watch your head and please evacuate your comfort zone NOW. */cough* 
So, I braved that subzero windchill, and hopped right on the 7 train and away from my beloved Manhattan this morning. Yes sir, packed my iPod, my wallet and passport, and trekked my ass right out of modern civilization and into Queens obscurity, where I wandered the outskitrs, rubbles and ruins of Long Island City. It was a scurry ordeal, far more horrifying than I even thought possible, as the Manhattan skyline just kept getting smaller and smaller… but I kept stedfast and marched onward. I was a man on a mission.
My quest proved victorious. I eventually spotted the FreshDirect.com depot, found my way to the pickup spot, and emerged from the warehouse with 10lbs of spicy mexican chorizo in tow. TEN POUNDS of pure Tejano grub. None of that shitty, pre-smoked, Domincan junk for me — Mi gente, usted todo sabe de lo que estoy hablando — I got the REAL freakin’ McCoy. It’s all sitting in my freezer right now! Now I’m off to the corner market to stock up on eggs, peppers, and flour tortillas. We’re doing things serious up in here, ya’ll.
Spriteboy Fact #139: I secretly wish that every step I took in this damn city left a glowing footprint. That way we’d all know where I’ve been, and I maybe could catch up with myself.
Susan Cagle Sings
January 13th, 2004I was waiting for the A train tonight @ Columbus Circle when I heard this amazing voice echoing through the station. It was coming from the upper entrance level, just kind of soft but very vivid and pretty, and I followed along the 1/9 uptown platform to a beautiful young girl with long dreadlocks and a guitar. Singing, strumming, and just emoting these gorgeous melodies into the station. Four of my trains went by and I just stood there, staring at the walls and pretending to be really interested in my cell phone, so I could hear more of her music. Her sound reminded kind of me of that soul singer Kina but with a more raw sound, and she looked a lot like Res, actually. Just mesmerizing. I dumped all my coinage into my palm and debated whether or not to give it to her, I mean it’s not like she looked exactly homeless or anything, but it was clear she wasn’t rolling in money. Giving her a handful of dimes and pennies just seemed like a condescending thing to do. Embarassing, sort of. She was maybe my age, just sitting there on a little stool, plugged into her amp near the magazine stand, with a pad of paper next to her. I spotted some CD’s in blank, white sleeves laying in her bag, and I ran — literally ran — out of the station, up to the street, to the nearest ATM. I came back a few minutes later with cash and a big smile on my face. After she finished her song, I walked up and asked her if I could buy one of her CD’s. She flashed this gorgeous smile and said, “Yeah! It’s a demo.” “Your songs are beautiful. Is $10 ok?” “That’s really nice, thank you. Do you have email?” she asked, nodding at the pad. “Leave me your address and I’ll keep in touch with you.” I scribbled down my name and info and paid her for a CD. She smiled again. “God bless you.” “Thanks, you too..”
I raced home, all excited, and uploaded her 5-track demo onto my iPod right away. I’ve been listening to it nonstop all night — it’s gorgeous, I haven’t liked an album this much since Coldplay. The first track, “Touched”, is what I heard her singing first and it’s my favorite one so far. Her name is Susan Cagle, she plays on the subways a lot, from what I gather (I googled her), and I hope I get an email from her soon.
Susan Sings
“Monster”
January 13th, 2004
Charlize Theron. Oh my god. Shit, man. I will never EVER say anything bad about that woman. Her performance was what made the movie more than just a low-budget documentary-style, Based On A True Story, Christina Ricci flick. Everyone’s talking about her physical transformation, which I’ll admit was just astonishing — that bitch got UGLY. The teeth, the dead eyes, the bad skin. If I had never known who she was, I’d have assumed the actress playing the lead was a virtual unknown. You NEVER realize that it’s Charlize Theron. But what really deserves raves? is her talent. She played this trailertrash, mannish, brutal killer… yet she managed to make me care so damn much about this horrible, psychotic, trainwreck of a person. Even when she’s standing there with the gun in her hand, screaming “God I’m sorry!” and blowing some guy’s head off, I found myself really wishing she’d just get a lucky break and find a way out of that life. I was dying for her to come out on top. That scene @ the bus-stop where she’s talking about never being able to forgive herself? I fucking lost my shit. We’re talking eyes closed, chest heaving, sobbing-kind of tears. If this woman isn’t at least nominated for an Oscar, there is officially no hope for a brighter tomorrow.
Christina Ricci was really good too. I’ve always liked her a lot, but none of her roles have ever really commanded much from her, nothing that really makes her DELIVER. She spent most of the movie in tears and confusion, and I totally followed along with her the whole time. Even when she’s breaking Aileen’s heart at the end, I still felt for her.
This movie tore my guts out and just threw them all over the place. I walked out of the theater just speechless and antsy. Grabbing some Starbucks and kicking it with my friends after this movie was no longer appealing to me. The fact that it was all based on a true story made it even heavier. Ugh, it just trashed me. Got me all ripped up.
Go see this movie. GO.
Fit Boy Ahoy!
January 13th, 2004
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Hear me, all rowdy sexpots of swinging London! The puckering, handsome lad you see webcammed before you is one of my very best friends: Matty, the bumbling blogger behind World Wide Wuh. As you can see, he’s quite fit — he’s also talented, charming, witty, lovable, and always cleans up after himself. Matt prefers the laddies to the ladies — however (under the influence of alcohaul and driven by the sheer force of curiousity), Matt recently discovered the joys of flexisexuality and ravished a lovely young pretty at a holiday party… so, ladies, I fully support your endeavors with him as well! Currently a man of leisure, Matty enjoys the simple things in life: new wave 80′s tracks, jars of Marmite, text messaging, snogging drunks, frito pie, and putting pompous employers in their place. He has a wonderful sense of humor and a high tolerance for annoying, inconsistant American boys with way too many opinions. He’s the bestest brit in all the land and I love him dearly. You will too.
If you happen to pass this dashing bachelor on the street, or perhaps see him sitting across from you on the bus, please take him by the hand, lead him to your bedroom, and allow nature to take its course. Don’t ask questions, don’t even waste your time with words. Just FORNICATE.
Or take him to a pub and buy him a pint. Whatever works.
Howard Dean, Whaa?
January 12th, 2004
Today’s the last day to nominate your favorite blogs, dudes! I know all the office-slaves have nothing better to do, dammit. I was supposed to meetup with the photographer from Pavement Magazine for another shoot they wanted to do, but I’m pretty sure we’re not doing it. It’s snowing mighty nasty out where I am, and I’m not about to head out there, so I have nothing else going on. It’ll be my first year actually filling this whole Bloggies thing out, cuz last year I didn’t read many blogs and I just ended up quitting halfway through. Lots of good shit out there, plenty of people making me laugh out loud and just plain amusing my ass. I need to update my links page like nobody’s business, actually.
By the way, it’s been a long time coming, but “Bruised” by The Bens is the damn anthem.
So thanks to a hot tip I got, I’ve stumbled onto the awe and wonder that is FreshDirect.com. It’s amazing, and what’s even more amazing is that THEY SELL MEXICAN CHORIZO! Just as I was beginning to give up on the idea of ever finding authentic mexican hot chorizo in New York City! This is just too cool… too cool, it seems, to deliver to my neighborhood. But it’s all good, cuz they’ve got a depot in Queens and it’s only 2 stops off the 7 train out of Manhattan. I can place my order online and go pick it up the next day if I want to! Woo-hoo!
Happy voting, ya’ll.
Just Like That
January 12th, 2004Despite last night @ work, this was a really nice weekend. I metup with the prodical Jax on Friday night for dinner and some Mandy Moore (neither of which were as delicious as I’d hoped), woke up to breakfast in bed & Finding Nemo with Randy the next morning, and then headed to Morgans Bar later that night for my dawg Mishy‘s goodbye party. She just got into some huge amazing hotel industry school and is heading to Switzerland for the next few years. The lounge was in a basement and practically lit by candles, and tons of Hudson kids showed up drunk and ready to makeout, so it was a really great way to send her off. Mishy is just the sweetest girl in the world. I love her like a fat kid loves cake. You know how some people totally take you by suprise, how you find yourself caring for them so much more than you actually thought? Mishy was one of those people to me. I’m really gonna miss her.
Spriteboy Speaks