2 blogs in the matter of a few hours just proves my point

Unemployment is a bitch. I’m not talking about the inability to pay for rent, food, and other basic needs. Or even the not basic needs like wanting to go out with your friends for a drink or attend a concert.

I’m talking about how it sucks you dry from the inside. It’s been almost a month since I’ve had paid work and in that time I only worked a total of a few days for free. Luckily, I once again have a day job (thank you dear managers at Urban for hiring me) that I am starting in October after I finish working on my good friend’s thesis film. In the meantime I have been going bat shit crazy and fighting to not let myself to digress to this:

Not the 12 year old boy part of course. I mean the lazy, fatty part. Sitting in front of the tv all day, eating, and doing nothing. It’s amazing how addicting it is, even when you hate yourself for doing it.

At first unemployment wasn’t horrible. I had the chance to catch up on little things like cleaning and laundry that are hard to get done when you are busy. Then I realized that when you have a full day, every day, to get these things done, you really quickly run out of things to do. Let me point out also that all my good friends are incredibly busy right now and as a result, have no time to hang out with bored little me. Even my best friend, who I live with, is working, in school, and generally spends what little free time she has with her boyfriend. Finally, I am incredibly single right now. There is absolutely no male interest in my life that I can leech onto until this phase passes. So where does that leave me?

Well, first I spent a lot of time reading. I read at home, I’d go read at café’s, I would go to Borders and stare at books. I have no problem going out and doing things on my own but a lot of activities require money. So I was stuck with books. (It was in this period of time that I helped out on a short for free which was something that quickly came and went)

Next stage was about two weeks in. I figured I would go home to see my family for a weekend. Why not? I wasn’t doing anything else with my time. Went home Friday night as per usual. Hung out until Sunday, then Sunday turned into Monday and Monday into Tuesday. After four days I was bored and anxious. There’s only so much time you can spend sitting around with your brother’s playing video games before you have the itch to get back into the “real world”.

So, back I came and then quickly remembered how much my “real world” sucked right now. No job, no money, and for all intents and purposes, no friends. So one of my very dull mornings, I decided to finally watch The Cove. If you haven’t seen it, you must. I bawled. I have a fierce love of animals, especially dolphins (anyone who knows me can attest to this). I cried almost as hard as I did when I broke up with my boyfriend a few months ago. The result of this was a major quarter life crisis in which I was convinced that I needed to go back to school to become a marine biologist so that I could go out and save the dolphins. I mean, I was serious. I was researching colleges and emailing professors. Ridonkulous. Not that I don’t want to save the dolphins still but I am not a math/science geek. I hate that shit. Luckily, the next few days I slowly came to my senses when I realized that every job outcome I looked into would make me completely miserable. I did, however, realize that I truly want to make more of myself and my life and am currently working on getting heavily involved in volunteering and raising awareness about things that I am passionate about. (Thank you quarter life crisis!)

So that leaves us with the present and my desperate attempt to not become the chubby 12 year old boy above. Although I’m about to get back on track again in a few weeks, right now every day is dull and lifeless. I find myself having to write lists to motivate me to actually get shit done. If I don’t, I end up sitting in front of the TV all day watching the same 5 HBO movies. The time both flies and drags by. It’s the most painfully boring day but suddenly its dinner time and I look back and think to myself: WTF. I hate myself for sitting around and doing nothing. Yet, at the same time, I don’t *want* to do anything.

I certainly have stuff that needs to be done, I just need to get off my lazy ass and do it. For instance, cleaning my room. It’s a clear indication of my singledom because it looks like this happened:

I think my parents need to come over and threaten to not let me hang out with my friends until I pick it up. Oh wait…






P.S. I am waiting for the inevitable phone call/text/facebook message from my mother after she reads this to tell me to get off my lazy butt and "work on Jesse's costume and call Camille!" Yes mom, I know.

Cha-cha-changes

So, less than 24 hours after I came up with my *brilliant* new blog, I decide to see what else is out there and I come across this bad boy. Nothing too bad until I scrolled down and found this little post. (Warning: XXX rated)

While I do love the gay boys, I don't need nor want my blog to be relatable. That's just not my cup of tea... and if I'm going to be perfectly honest, I have a huge issue with being comparable to anyone. I don't know if it was how I was raised or just some sort of gene defect, but I have an insatiable need to always feel incomparable. Not that I have to be better, just different.

For example, at some point in high school, BEFORE it was cool, I really like the idea of dying the under part of your hair dark. Then suddenly everyone was doing it! As much as I wanted to, I held out until the next hair phase came along and THEN I went ahead and dyed the underpart of my hair black. I must say, it was cute. I had red hair with black underneath and it was a short, flippy do. Totally worth the wait.

I buy what I like, I do what I like, I listen to the music I like. I happen to like pretty much everything, so sometimes it coincides with the latest trends in life... but I take comfort that there are OTHER things I like that are not trendy, and therefore I stay my own person. There is a wonderful quote from E.E. Cummings: "To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best day and night to make you everybody else means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight, and never stop fighting." The people who can't are either lazy or too worried about pleasing everyone. It takes someone who knows and is comfortable with who they are, all the bad and good, to be able to say: "This is who I am. Deal."

Anyway, I am going to stop myself now before this turns into a novel (I can talk for hours about individuality) and just say to Barrio Boy in Miami, Florida: you can have your stupid blog title. I came up with my own, damn it.

French men, Venice, and valley porn = 10 minutes of my life I want back

This is my first blog of what could be many a blog or a complete failure. Either way, I feel like I find myself in enough odd situations living here in the City of Angels that they need to be shared with the world. One incident in particular has inspired me to start this blog and so, naturally, I'm going to share.

Today I was walking 'round my neck of the woods and, by the ventura blvd/van nuys intersection, some guys shouted at me from their car. I briefly glanced over with every intention of ignoring them as I normally do but the one in the passenger seat asked me, in a thick accent, for directions. I have a few friends who think I'm "too nice". I think that's generally a load of bull but then I find myself in awkward situations such as this..

So I indulge the man and ask where he is trying to go. He pulls out a pad of paper with all sorts of random places listed and points to "TGI Friday". I told them I don't know where one is in the area to which point he ask if I'm from around. I tell him I'm generally familiar but I don't know where there is a TGIF. Then he tries to ask me where the beach is. Now, at this point, the light has long turned green and they are holding up traffic in the right hand turn lane and people are being generally patient and I am trying to get rid of them. So as I stand there awkwardly, people finally start to honk so they pull into the gas station.

The two guys get out and one immediately lights a smoke. Let me just take a moment to describe these two really quickly.. the driver was a beer bellied, creepy guy wearing a velvet or cord jacket. I didn't look at him long enough to notice. The other guy looked like a Jersey Shore Guido, complete with slicked hair and a shirt way too tight. Anyway, the Guido tells creepy guy to put out his smoke and then asks me, "isn't it illegal to smoke at a gas station in America?". I responded with a simple, "Only if you don't want to blow up and die". Granted, he was standing on the sidewalk smoking but it was still too close for comfort for me.
So then I proceed to write directions down on the notepad to the beach, Malibu to be exact. This is the conversation that follows (as best as I understood/can remember).

Guy1: So you work around here?
Me: In the area..
Guy1: What do you do?
Me: I work in film.
Guy1: In porno?!
Me: God, no!
Guy1: But isn't this where the porn stars are? [Blahblah], didn't [Blahblah] say this is where the porn stars are?
Guy2: Yes *smoke smoke*
Me: Umm.. well its just an industry joke. I mean.. they film porn here but..
Guy1: We are looking for the porn stars. I am sorry, I offended you. *to other guy* I think she's upset.
Me: Where exactly are you trying to go?
Guy1: To find the porn stars. First they tell us Sepulveda, then they tell us Venice beach. I don't know.
Me: Well, Sepulveda is a road over there *point*
Guy1: Will it take me to the beach?
Me: It can but the freeway is faster.
Guy1: We need to get to Venice beach. We were hired to film the porno.
Me: Umm okay...

At this point I scribbled down directions and got ready to run for my life. Then I get this lovely question...

Guy1: So can I have your number? We might get lost and need directions.
Me: I'm not giving you my number. You can stop and ask for directions again.
Guy1: But I don't think anyone will be as nice as you.
Me: Probably not. So good luck with that.
Guy1: Are you going to work?
Me: Um, no.
Guy1: Where are you going? Do you need a ride?
Me: I'm fine, thanks.

Then he said something that I can't remember that I believe was completely DEVOID of any accent. Its vague because I was already running away.

I'm not sure if this was A) a lengthy way of trying to get my number, B) a "sly" way of trying to get me to star in a porno with them, C) an attempt at raping/killing me, or D) all of the above.

I suspect D.