boys and girls, please talk on!

I had never seen New York in such a dizzy/ happy/crazy/haze until O B A M A was announced president. Seriously, insane. I was stuck on the lower east side working at a southwestern (but full of democrats from around the country) bar. The bar atmosphere was something else. But the streets? Motorcycle set on fire. People dancing - everywhere. Cabs going crazy. Screaming and hugging and laughing....and maybe a fight here or there. Yay Obama!!!! The only problem? Why didn't I pick up a New York times on the way to yoga at seven AM? What was I thinking? They were out by midday.

Other than that, well. I'm keeping busy. It's kind of fun and kind of frustrating.

It's like this, no matter what I do during the day - I'm pissing someone off. Coming back to New York wasn't easy. The past few weeks have been rough. I'm doing everything I can to remain positive. Trips to Coney Island. You know, eating cotton candy and looking at fish five times the size of me (no, really). Brooklyn Chinatown with lychee gummies, kids who think my eyes are fake, and lots of live food that will forever make gag. Art galleries. Yoga. Yoga. Yoga. Tea. Readings lots of books. You know, trying to just get through the day. And still. I'm wronging someone. Always. Someone always has something to say. Doing "something" is never good enough for anyone. Sigh. Part of me feels like if I am always going to be failing and disappointing people, I might as well just give up - because this "getting through the day thing" is getting kind of old. The other part of me will probably just never add minutes to my phone and keep hiding out on the upper east side.

But yes, trying to be productive because I just wasted two months in Bushwick with someone whose songs haven't even been all that good lately. Totally single - finally. Feels good. Happy about it.

I was talking to a friend via text message last night. He didn't sound all the enthused about, well, anything. I sent him a text that said, Don't sound so depressed. If that is even possible over a text. He wrote back and said, I could make a fax machine sound depressed. Thought that was kind of funny. He could make a fax machine sound depressed. But he also makes me laugh. So it's people like him that I can't really live without.

When things aren't going well, it's really small things that keep me going. Last night at work I had a table of three guys. Really nice guys. One of them was visiting from East London. The other guy is a publicist at Teen Vogue. And then the straight guy out of the bunch struck a conversation up with me. He started talking about music and bands. I mentioned that my ex was touring in England right now and that unfortunately, I do like his band. Surprisingly, he had heard a lot about the band. Sidenote: Although things have not been great, it wasn't until yesterday that I sent the "final" email. You know how they go - make sure you call the guy an asshole, make sure he knows that you know he has been using you, lying to you, etc. Call him a sociopath and maybe mention that the whole situation kind of sucks because you can't exactly change the fact that you DO still love and care about him. ANYWAY. Back to mystery boy from Brooklyn. He orders wings (gross) and a beer. And it's funny, because in situations like this - the thing that is totally killing you the most, the thing that you are doing everything you can not to think about, all of the sudden becomes a laughable anecdote with a total stranger. We have this conversation:

Him: I know I just ordered wings. And it's impossible to eat wings and look remotely attractive. I mean, they are so messy and you are literally gnawing at these bones. Just look at the chick at the end of the bar.
Me: Yeah. And I don't eat meat. So. Really gross.
Him: Fuck. You don't eat meat and just ended things with a band guy on tour. I wanted to ask you out on a date. But maybe we'll see how you feel after you see me chomping on tiny animal parts.
Me, laughing: After seeing people eat chicken feet and ovaries....and seeing people slurping on pig intestine soup - you probably won't gross me out. But you are not a musician - are you? Because, I have decided that I am pretty much over that.
Him: Shit, yeah I am in a band. And we're not even half as good as your ex's band. This may never work.

He was funny. He was so....upfront? I laughed. I took his number and continued to talk to him throughout the evening. I'll probably send him an email this week (and hope that he doesn't "google" me and find this blog entry). But it's conversations like this that make me laugh for a few minutes. It's conversations like this that make New York different from the rest of the planet. A little bit magical with the most random people and greetings.

Other things get me through the day as well. My phone isn't one of them, usually. I am the worst with phones. When I got back to New York I had a couple of weeks where I refused to buy one. I finally gave in and bought a fifteen dollar pay-as-you-go phone. It worked out fine, kind of. It's constantly running out of minutes. I have unlimited texts and don't enjoy talking on the phone, so I rarely "top up" (that's what Virgin calls minute refills) the damn thing. It's two thousand eight (or should I say 2KGR8). Communication is ridiculously easy. In fact, it's almost annoying. Can I get a round of approval nods when I say this next sentence? Facebook chat has to be the worst form of communication on the planet. In fact, whether or not a person loves chatting on Facebook should be my new litmus test for "Are we/can we be friends?" Sidenote: I use to take people to Soho Park. If they were into it - friends forever. If not - see you fucking later. And if you haven't been to Soho Park, you NEED to check it out. And text me, I'll join you. ANYWAY. With text messaging, Skype, ichat, Twitter, Facebook, Myspace, my blog, flickr, and my email account...I'm thinking, is it necessary for people to hear my voice whenever they please? Probably not. But with agents and managers and parents - sometimes it is. I lost the first one. Broke the second one. My third phone was stolen while I was working. That's right. Who steals the fifteen dollar phone that is OUT of minutes. Like, you have to PAY to use it. I even thought phone stealing was a thing of the past, who steals phones in 2008? But it was stolen. So. I told myself I was going to splurge and buy a nice phone. However, I got to the place and they were out of everything except the fifteen dollar and the thirty dollar phone. I moved up to the thirty and so far it's still in my possession (although I have left my charger at work for the past two nights, it's dead and I can't use it).

But my whole point is that when I DO add minutes (which I literally just did now, live blog updating - are you ready?), my phone explodes with this hilarious little jingle that cracks me up, hard. The website then loads a new screen that reads, Nice! 30.00 has been added to your account. Talk on! I read it in a tone that one of those commercial voice over guys always has. I make sure I drag out the "c" in "nice" for just a second too long (and this all makes me crack up a little bit harder). I start thinking about "talk on." Is that derived from "right on"? I'm not too sure, but it's obviously hip. I like it when my phone provider is up to date with modern lingo. I think it is even safe to say, Virgin Mobile is even more up to date then I will ever be. It's this kind of stuff that makes me laugh even on my most depressed days. And it's this kind of stuff that keeps me going. And then I think to myself, you know, Virgin Mobile seems to think I did something right today. They are not totally disappointed in me. In fact, THANKS is printed in huge, bold, red lettering on the exit screen. They aren't giving me a hard time about anything. They could say, "spend more money." They could say, "you should have added more minutes two weeks ago, what's the deal, what took you so long?" They could say a lot of things. But they are just happy that I did something. And this is all I am asking for right now. And this is kind of all I need right now. For those of you who emailed me after my last post all "worried", I'm here to tell you - life isn't that bad. Sometimes it just takes Virgin Mobile or a random guy ordering chicken wings to remind me.

***

In other news, friends falling off a mechanical bull will never fail to make me laugh.

More stories later but I'm running late to a fitting. That's right. Shooting a commercial for "Drug Free America" tomorrow. My role? User. Hahaha. Can't wait.