Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man

The last guy that I hung out with was a good looking, talented and successful artist. He ate Crackerjacks in his bed and told me he had a baboon heart.

I told him I was from another planet. Might as well be.

Negativity

Alright, I can admit that I’m hardly Little Miss Sunshine. Little Miss Typhoon would be more apt if one had to use the weather to describe my temperament. Still, I have to draw the limit somewhere. So, when I awoke New Years Eve and the first thing my friend said was, “Its 2010 and we’re both MISERABLE.” I had to stop her. NO. Just, NO. I didn’t leave behind everything I know to move 3000 miles across the country to be miserable. HELL NO!!!

I'm a Fighter AND a Lover. I'm not resigning myself to misery.
Things are gonna get better DAMMIT!

New York, NY

This text to my brother pretty much sums up my first 3 weeks here:

Greazy Goombas, closet homos, anorexic business women, power mongering capitalists,
starry eyed Midwestern chewies, maniacal Euros, obsessive NY Giants fans, 12 hour work days, 1am dinner at Wendy's, rat race, bags-under-your-eyes-fatigue, grotesque wastefulness, rats in the street, tiny hot apartments with shuddering radiators, immigrant dreams, New York knuckle fuck!!!

Fortune Favors The Brave

Despite my rather grim portrait of my new life (?!) in New York, I do not have doubts about my move here. The fact is that I am a refugee, fleeing from my past failures. Like any immigrant I have brave dreams of a rosier future.

I never expected New York to be easy. Everyone knows that its not. I don’t even want easy. I don’t respect easy. I enjoy the journey. I relish the struggle.

When people ask me what brought me to New York, what made me leave sunny, idyllic California for the brutal, austerity of New York, its hard for me to answer. I didn’t come to get famous, I didn’t come to get rich, I didn’t come, really, even for school. The real reason I came is to change my destiny. Its that simple. And that complicated.

Oops I Did It Again!

Its sad to admit but I've haven't been having too much fun in NYC. My new job is running me into the ground! I've never worked so much in my life. Maybe I'm spoiled but I'm not used to 50 hour work weeks and 14 hour days with only one (unpaid) half hour break. Plus most of that time is spent on my feet frantically rushing around a busy restaurant catering to the needs of Upper Crust, Nice Enough but No Bullshit Bring-Me-What-I-Want-NOW-New Yorkers. The place is insanely busy. I spend most of my week running around (like a chicken with its head cut off), feet and legs aching, heart pounding, sweating uncomfortably in a black polyester vest and tie. It ain't glamorous, let me tell ya.

The only thing that has made my long shifts somewhat fun has been flirting with a cute busser. A lot of the guys that work there get really stressed out and aggro and yell at each other all the time. But this one is like an angel, always sweet and friendly and helpful. Not to mention tall and sexy. And only 22. Dear Lord help me!

We were riding the subway home the other day and he started up with the usual line of questions I get from non-American guys at work. It always goes like this: Am I married? Do I have a boyfriend? Why not?! They just can't seem to figure it out. How can a pretty, nice-seeming woman of a certain age not be with a man? How can she still be single and not even have a family? I always shut them up by telling them I am waiting for love, waiting for someone who truly has a good heart, who is loving and honest and kind. At that point I think I must seem like some crazy, high minded idealist to them.

Next thing you know we are having beers at a bar together. Then my new roommate called and told me that her boyfriend had been violent with her that day, she was staying at her sister's house and she wanted to warn me that he might try to come by the house that night. I felt horrible for her. I was tired and drunk and sad and I didn't really want to go home alone to the house with some psycho ex-boyfriend trying to get in. Honestly, there's been very, very little pleasure in my life of late. So, you can figure out what happened next...

We were crammed together in my little twin bed with the sound of the N Train constantly rumbling through the night outside my window. At five in the morning he said he couldn't sleep. He apologized and went home.

I lay alone in that little bed cursing myself. Cursing my rotten luck at love. Cursing my pathetic longing for companionship and affection. Cursing my raw need for sex and physical touch. I even thought maybe I could go to Iceland, far away from everyone I knew and end it all. Anything that would end the endless cycle of loneliness and stupidity.

In the morning I woke up. I felt OK. I'm used to these things, I guess.

Which came first, the ovary or the raisin?!

So I’m in New York. Everything’s great. Sort of. I found a job in just one week, an alarmingly short amount of time and a feat which has garnered the astonished praise of many. And within 3 whirlwind weeks I have my very own little room complete with a tiny twin bed all to myself in Astoria, Queens. In a conversation with my new roommate about the neighborhood (I was inquiring if it was safe) she noted that its mostly filled with young artists and actors and then said, “Yeah, my friend and I were just commenting on how many single, white women we see walking around here.” “Grrrrrrreat.” I replied sarcastically.

Oooops! I’m letting my jaded side show already. Keep it under wraps, girl. At least for the first week! Jeez.

Still, there’s no doubt that New York is filled to the brim with attractive, talented, young, ambitious women. Oh yes, they are everywhere, strutting down the streets in their fashionable knee high leather boots. Having a lot of cool women around is not a bad thing mind you, its just that if these smart, sexy, successful women are still single then my odds are not so good. And what can I say; I feel my dreams of ever meeting a man wither just a little more with the crisp fall leaves. It appears to be my destiny to swim in a sea of estrogen as my poor ovaries shrivel up inside of me like two dessicated little raisins.

Sob…[alone in my twin bed]

Let the Wild Rumpus Begin!!!

I've been so good lately. But after 5 months of chastity I sorta slipped up and had a FIVESOME with my ex coworkers last night. We were all out celebrating my move on to greener pastures. Little did I realize how green the pastures were gonna be...
The whole thing was ridiculous! It was like being in a porn.
I still can't believe it.
What a send off for my move to New York!!!

A Funny Thing

If you're a guy and you tell a woman that you recently met that you're leaving town in couple weeks, chances are she won't be interested.

HOWEVER, if you're a woman and you tell a man you hardly know that you're leaving town in a couple weeks - he's enraptured. Nothing like the prospect of no strings attached casual sex, a never-have-to-see-you-again hookup to light a fire in a man's loins!

I've never had so many propositions from guys to suddenly 'hang out' as I've just had in the past couple weeks.

Typical.

Still, could be fun...

Getting It

My coworker (who can, at times, be quite cutting) said something really nice the other day. I was worrying aloud that I looked old. He said, "Violet, You're beautiful. Don't let anybody tell you any different." That made my night.

The problem is I've started to worry about what's wrong with me. I search for reasons why I'm still single, why I haven't had better luck with men. I can't decide what's to blame - my personality or my looks! In the looks department; sometimes its because I'm too fat, other times too old, other times not hip enough. Then there's my personality - that's another whole issue! ha ha... Maybe I'm too intense, maybe I'm too shy, maybe I'm too depressed, maybe I'm not successful enough, maybe I'm not accommodating enough... Blah, blah, blah. Once I go down this path I feel bad about myself. And then I get mad too because I start thinking of all the other people out there who despite their many shortcomings have found love. I start thinking I'm cursed.

But when I'm feeling calm and reasonable about things, when I feel balanced, I realize that I just haven't met the right person or that maybe I wasn't as ready as I thought I was. I realize that my life - pretty much from its inception on a crazy, Catholic commune in the woods, has never been normal or conventional. I've never gone from point A to B to C. While most people I know are getting married, having kids and settling down, I'm preparing to sell everything I own and run away to New York City! This is just me. Someday someone I meet will appreciate these eccentricities and will love me because of/despite them!

And someday (soon, I hope) I will relax and learn to relish the richness of my life, just as it is.

Role Playing

The other day at work a guy asked if I was an actress.
I replied, "Well, I AM starring in my own melodrama."