The Gris.

Who says you can't wild out in CT?!

Went to The Griswold Inn in Essex, CT with Bird, Bird's mom and Sarah on December 21st. Wild times ensued. We sat in the Gun Room. There were Colonial themed carollers who went table to table.  I requested Boys II Men, they didn't cooperate.  I rocked a lot of holiday attire. A man pointed at me and said: "Look, it's an elf!" to his granddaughter (?) to which I replied, "Hi! I'm an elf." People were taking pictures of me and with me as if I was one of those Times Square Elmo's. Ridiculous.

 There was an amaaaazzzzzing swing band that  played Dean Martin and other classics. Next thing, you know, I feel the strong hands of 80 year old men all over me. I was dancing left and right. One man dipped me. Never have I met a guy my own age who were as assertive as these kind gents.

Hot Guys, Cold Times.

I've decided that I am definitely more attracted to guys in the winter and the reason is that they're completely covered up. Cute hats and scarfs leave more to mystery. Big jackets, long underwear and sweatshirts can trick a gal into thinking that this dude's really fit, this dude doesn't have a beer gut, this dude has layers on. What more, the boy looks snugly, like a bear-capable of giving both great hugs and scaring the heck out of trespassers and unwanted guests. Myself, meanwhile, cannot pull off the winter in a sexy fashion. Let's be honest though, when am I ever sexy?! I sport this ghetto-ass/yet somehow also old lady gold jacket. It hits my ankle. When paired with a knit hat, my friend compares me to a "grandma". The other day, a dude biked by me and asked me if my sleeping bag kept me warm. Ah, yeah.

Goal List!!!

Goal List as established on Tuesday, December 28th. To be implemented: forever and always!!!

1. Stop being a degenerate!
2. Fuck the frail shit!
3. Stick it to the man!
4. Bang! Bang!
5. Rock climb!
6. Fuck bitches, make $$!!
7. Eat more meat!
8. Train for American Ninja Warrior!
9. Go to gun/golf place in Westchester!
10. Run the shit!
11. Regulate!
12. Be the leading lady of my life!
13. Not allow people to speak to me unless I have first summoned them.
14. No dickin' around!

I composed this life list while working the Tuesday after Christmas/Tuesday after the blizzard shift at Mercury. AKA no one was there. The night was quite entertaining nonetheless. The first girl was a solo act with  soulful voice. She ended on a bang-covering Khia (who?! exactly!)'s song "My Neck, My Back" with HER MOTHER IN THE AUDIENCE!

  

The second band was a legit shit show. Literally FIVE people were playing kazoos at once. KAZOOS?! SERIOUSLY???!! Then came another solo act. This time a boy who defnitely needed a hug. His mom was also in the audience, as well as his "manager" aka the only person who stood during his set and who creepily taped the whole thing. The boy that needs a hug kept doing covers because he didn't have enough of his own material but then he'd preface each cover with a statement about how he knows he should not be covering this song...and then he would break into the Beach Boys. He really got me when he all of a sudden whipped out a kazoo as well. ARE YOU DEAD SERIOUS?! The last band I completely tuned out except for the fact that one of the dudes in the band tried to talk to me and I wasn't in the mood so I just pointed for him to go away which is where I came up with Number 13 on my Life List: Don't talk to me unless summoned.

In its raw form, the list:

Counterfeiting bills anyone?!

Winding down one year is a great time for reflecting on the past. And boy, do I have some reflections....

For one...I quit my TERRIBLE TERRIBLE TERRIBLE (did I mention terrible?!) day job this year. I seriously wanted to quit that job the day I got it. Initially, I wasn't even sure if I HAD it. It was three years ago and I had just moved to NYC. The TERRIBLE dude who hired me called me the very day of my interview to tell me I did infact, have the job, but then did not call me back or answer any of my calls for a MONTH. No big deal. Please. Do not take a job out of desperation! Nothing good can come of it.

The next three years went as followed: HELL.

I worked for this SKETCHY non-profit in Bushwick, Brooklyn. Every day, I'd take the train in the WRONG direction (upside: less people on commute!) and get off at the Wilson Ave stop aka in the ghetto. "Rick James once said, if you ain't from the ghetto, don't go to the fucking ghetto!" So, I worked for this non-proft, counseling middle school kids at risk of dropping out of school. I DID like that aspect of it-the helping of the children.

I had this one student named Angel. A BADASS. Literally, dude was like 15 in the 8th grade and had been arrested numerous times. He and I bonded over Chess and Rummy. He always would drop the word "son" in there. "Ya know son..." etc. I turned to him and said: "Who is this son you keep speaking of?!" He laughed, "haha oh son!" One day, Angel came in and told me he was arrested in New Jersey the night before for ASSAULTING A POLICE OFFICER, no big deal. He laughed as he recounted his story.  His one complaint being that the cuffs in Jersey hurt more than the cuffs in NY. Angel visited me during his lunch every day (he actually went to school) and during any other classes he decided to skip.  Something I did must have worked because he ended up with the "Most Improved Student" award. Hey now!

All of my favorite students were badasses.  I would assist them in writing letters to their parole officers. It was fun times though. We'd all sit around my office, singing along to the latest Lil Wayne, talking b-ball and gangs...

One of my all-time faves, almost got me fired/arrested. Once again, no big deal. I'm going to disclaim this one with I SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN MORE SLEEP THE NIGHT BEFORE/I WAS SORT OF AN IDIOT DURING THIS ONE INCIDENT/CAFFEINE BEFORE STUDENTS!! So, I'd always let this one student make copies of articles and Kobe Bryant pics. He came in early, before homeroom, and wanted to see how it would look to make copies of a dollar bill. I wasn't thinking clearly, with it being early and with my sleep being shit the previous night. I let the kid borrow a dollar bill (I know, I know...). He makes a copy with it on the copy machine and tries to make it as a real looking as possible AS A JOKE. I didn't think much of this (I know, I know..). Bell rings. Day goes on. Next thing you know, the BI-POLAR (literally) crazy wench of a principal (who did the announcements EVERY day in THIRD person) was calling myself and my two co-workers to the office. My dear student had gone and bought an ice cream in the school store with the fake dollar bill! And now, my ass was in TROUBLE. The crazy bitch is yelling at me in third person really fucking loud and I am literally SHAKING. No one has ever really yelled at me! And this is EXTREME yelling! Next thing you know, the police are there. I was freaking out and flushed my dollar bill down the toilet, dead serious. They asked me if I knew that copying a dollar bill was a FEDERAL crime....AH?? Then they started interrogating me about COUNTERFEITING bills. Um. Yeah..Ah...The po-po wanted to see the dollar bill he had copied. Where was that dollar bill? "Ah? I don't know officer!" The next few weeks were even more awful than the normal amounts of awful that my job was. Rumors of the FBI getting involved and men in plain clothes searching my office surfaced. I had to report to my agency center (a different type of hell) for a week or so til the hype died down. I was concerned with getting fired/going to jail. I had not even gotten attention back in the day and now I was flirting with the idea of a sentence?! WTF.

Cha-Cha-Cha Charmin!!!

Typical Day in NYC:

 1. Charmin World. This place is the best. For one, I always have to pee. This place is a HAVEN for peeing! "It's New York's Number One Place For Number 2" Please read reviews here: http://www.yelp.com/biz/charmin-restrooms-new-york

2. Poptart World: Yes, there is such a place! And I was super fortunate to go there the day teen sensation Cody Simpson performed!!! At one point, he hugged a girl and the crowd screamed! So wild!

Most Wonderful Time of the Year!!

Merry What What Folks!

Favorite time of the year! I have this friend named Bird. My brother nicknamed her Bird because of the knock-knees and curly mop on her head. Anyhoo, Bird and I used to live together at "The Palace" in college. One day, back when we lived together, I was going about my day around the apartment, washing dishes, gettin' down, when Bird suddenly emerged from her room. I had no idea she was home. She looked at me and said something along the lines of: "You realize you just talked to yourself for over an hour. And that you said 'I love Christmas' at least three times." It was June. It's true, I really do love Christmas.

Bird live in Menace Beach now but she's back on the best coast for the holla-days. We always exchange gifts. This year, I got her a balloon hat and pump kit, 'cause ya know, so practical.

The gift she got me IS practical but ummm...I do get cold easily and I do love penguins....FYI: I am INSIDE that penguin! And can I say, it's an identity fuck! You wouldn't think that putting a giant black and white cloak over one's head with mess with the psyche but indeed it does! I don't recognize myself at all!

I am pretty stoked about giving out a couple of gifts in particular. My two favorite gifts I have purchased are for my Dad and niece. A few years ago, I bought my Dad a yodeling pickle. That went over way better than I could have possible imagined. My Dad brings the yodeling pickle with him to meetings, hides it in his briefcase, then presses the magic button when the big chief walks in. The sweet sound of the Swiss Alps fills the air, no lie! So....every time it comes to gift giving season, I always wonder, what can I get my Dad that will top the pickle?! And then I found it! Remote controlled yodeling lederhosen!! REMOTE CONTROLLED! YESSS!!!

I naturally want my niece to grow up to be an ablazing badass much like myself so I bought her gifts with this in mind. A boy once compared me to a delicate flower and I told him point blank that I'm not a flower, I'm a cactus. I want my niece to embody the cactus. So, to keep her warm while also throwing out "don't mess! you better recognize vibes", I have taken the liberty to hook her up with the shark mitten.

And yes, shark mitten photo shoot took place on my stove.

And of course, it is never to soon to introduce the little ones to good music, so I'm hooking the l'il lady up with the ROCKABYE BABY! renditions of Black Sabbath...HOLLA! http://www.rockabyebabymusic.com/?nav2=false Nothing really says relaxing like "Iron Man"! Now, my brother and his wifey won't have to worry about just playing the Metallica lullabies I had previously gotten their little gem.

Hits to the Head!

An entire box of sugar fell on my head this morning. It tumbled down from my cupboard as I was reaching up for a tea bag. It of course somehow managed to go down into my bra/shirt area. I cleaned up the floor but am not going to worry about my chest because it's winter and sugar's a great exfoliant.

I've had quite the history with things falling on my head.  A few years back, a tv fell on my head. A couple of weeks ago, that same tv sat on my toe for a minute. Around a month ago I discovered a bump on my head. I am HOPING it's from hitting it. I remember hitting the back of my head a slew of times recently but NOT MY FRONT. For instance, there was this one night I was REALLY tired and laid my head back on what I was anticipating to be my pillow when in actuality it was the wall. Ow, big time. Anyhoo, as I was saying, front head bump...so, yes, it's there. I was home for Thanksgiving and my parents asked many questions regarding hitting it, but I do not remember hitting it in THAT spot. I suppose I cannot remember every hit to my head. It's remarkable I'm not more out of it considering how many times I HAVE hit my head. My parents theorized that I could have a cyst similiar to the ganglion that used to grace my right foot for so many years. Um, ew. I am sort of okay with having a puss-filled sack on my foot but I'm so not into the idea of getting my head drained! Dislike! I guess the one good thing about the bump is that I can bring it up with hot guys and tell them to touch it creating a ginger moment...or something...

I was getting low in hip hop dance class the other day and I was proud of myself for I believed I somehow was totally rockin' it. I hadn't taken this teacher in some time and I feared I'd be out of the loop with his style. Granted, I sucked for the first 28 minutes, but by minute 29 I was gettin' down!!! Until...I somehow managed to hit myself in the head and now have a decent sized gash on my forehead...REALLY?! I injured MYSELF in dance class?! And my nails are not even that long so how the hell do I have red head?? Ew. Ugh, and then I was washing my face and the intesne exfoliant man...my gash started bleeding the shower! Sick times yo. Hot mess.

It has been a really frigid week so I rocked the winter boots the other night. I got home to find that I had Curt Schilling heels. That's right, bleeding from both ankles! Somehow my pointer finger was bleeding as well. I'd say I need a vacation but let's face it...I never work anymore...

I hope the naked guy was "built" at least.

Work at the venue was a trainwreck last night. It was slow as fudge and I knew I was just going to make enough for a cab ride home. The early show was pretty good, sounded quite similiar to white noise. Who doesn't love white noise?! When a customer, Tyvon (potential sugar daddy), asked me what I thought, I said it's cool, gotta love some good percussion, but I don't know if I'd listen to it in my room." We agreed on the white noise bit and said I'd prefer to just put my fan on. Tyvon compared me to Simon Cowell. Aah? Yeah. Anyhoo, the late show was something else. The opening act had around 6 people there to support them. I sort of feel bad for bands when this happens but at the same time, what does it say about you that you have no friends?? One of the guys in the band, a "rapper", had a shirt on that read "50% Single". I am very confident that this dude is 200% Single. Firstoff, the guys were making a huge ordeal about putting more volume in this or less in that. Best sound guy in the world can't make you sound good. Period. Also, Single Man was texting on stage. REALLY?! You're texting during a show while "performing"?! Is this necessary?? I think NOT. We've already established you don't have friends. At one point, one of the band dudes said "you guys like what you're hearing?!" or something along those lines to which he was met with legit DEAD SILENCE. The second band is not even worth getting into. I would like to take this time to mention that all of these terrible acts are running 40 minutes behind. Okay, third band, these guys left me scarred for life. It was this crazyass punk rock/ska/brass jumble. Song lyrics included "Fuck You, Lady Gaga" and a couple of nice numbers involving "ass sweat". The small crowd of corporate junkies and straight up messes of life started to mosh around wildly. A woman in business attire brought a drunken man sporting a backwards baseball cap to my attention. Evidently, this dude was such a mess he was groping her fiance and also just sat down on an unsuspecting stranger's lap. Got that mofo kicked out. So, back to the band...Aah! The pudgy trumpet/singer with a mohawk decided it would be an excellent idea to get down to his nitty gritties and bear all. Dude is totally naked, grabbing himself, flailing about and shouting nonsense. Excellent. Awesome. So much nakedness insanity. All of the adjectives in the world would not be able to properly describe the events. At one point, the sound guy turned to me and said "did he just put the mic up his ass?!" This happened for ya know, 40 more minutes, no big deal. At one point the dude was crouched down on the ground morphing into some pretty unseemly positions. As all of this is happening, Ty is making friends with me, asked me if I'm married or have a boyfriend. I really wish I was capable of lying. I ended up giving him my email. On the way out, he asked how I did tip-wise. I said "SHIT". He then offered to throw some money down, he would not be my "sugar daddy" he said, but he didn't mind helping me out. "No thanks." Then another drunken fool asked me for his bag back. I informed him that I did not have his bag. This happened oh, SIX times. Dead serious. Hot mess. Thankfully, hailing a cab was a complete breeze tonight. I was surprised how young the driver was. He was listening to slow jams and quietly talking in bedroom voice to a person on the phone. All of a sudden. Music is off. Dude is asking me out. He'd love to take me to get wine and cheese. He'd love to go Halloween shopping with me. Maybe  I could be cat woman but since an all leather costume could be constricting (as I pointed out), I could get a comfy costume that looks like leather. They make them ya know, he said. I told him I do not have a phone. He knows where I live though so...The best part about the whole debacle is was my mom's response regarding my night, "I hope the naked guy was 'built' at least." Ah, thanks Mom.

Wig/Gat.

As soon as I get to work this morning I was hit with the blast of heat as well as a favor request from my co-worker...to hook her wig in. It took a lot out of me to do this without puking. I was overheating and lacking sleep and I am just a bit of a squimmish peep. So, she is lifting her wig so I can attach a strand to some strange loop thing and she is going on and on about her low blood sugar and breaking out into sweats and I am trying not to throw up on top of her. This is all very pre-coffee.

Lately when I leave work I legit REJOICE and I am not even exaggerating. I break into a laughing fit and literally skip down the street. Not sure if this is healthy.

Yesterday I was playing Scrabble with a kid and she spelled out "gat". I asked her if she had an "e", so that she could spell "gate". The student explained that a gat is a gun but yeah, since it is slang it probably wouldn't work anyway.

I read somewhere that if you are counting down to Friday you should look for a new job.