Positive Side of My Job

It is part of my job to track viral media and I just happen to be the lucky person in charge of food and beverage so today while working I came across this very interesting website done by Taco Bell. If you like half naked ladies and taking pictures of said ladies, CLICK HERE.

Yesterday

Yesterday I had a little fondue get together with some friends. It was a lot of cheese and even more champagne. Surprisingly nothing went wrong. It was really easy to make. The consistency was perfect and stayed perfect. I was happy. I have a really nice fondue pot that I rarely ever use since I never cook or anything but I figured it was about time I invited people over again. I might start using that thing more often.

Is anyone else watching Rock Of Love II as religiously as I am? For some reason I am obsessed with this show. I think all the girls are frightening yet I have to catch the new episode every Sunday. This is the only show I have ever cared about not missing. What on earth is wrong with me? I think it has something to do with my secret desire to be a rock whore.

The Bad Director

Some rainy day a few years back I was approached by a director while shopping around Virgin Records. He approached with a classic line asking me if I'm an actress. I said I was currently attending school at a musical theater academy uptown. He informed me that he was working on a new film that I looked the part for and would like to meet me at a later time to discuss the details if I was interested. At the time I wasn't familiar with his work so he gave me his card and told me to look at some of his films and give him a call if I would be interested. Honestly, at this point I was a little flattered but more or less just assuming it was all bull. Then he left because his wife and child were downstairs waiting for him.

So I figure, what is the harm in googling the guy and checking out some of his films? I was out with some of my friends at the time and they were nice enough to humor me in all of this. We found out that he had done a lot of films so I rented a few. They were good. A little twisted maybe but so am I so I figure, I'm giving the guy a call. He wanted to meet that night a a bistro I was very familiar with. I informed my friends of this and they offered to be my backup just in case he drugged me or something.

I met him at the 24 hour bistro. My friends came in after me and sat another table. We talked for a bit about his career, what he was currently working on. He asked me about what acting I had done. He showed me papers for a film festival he needed to attend the next week because they were honoring him. He came prepared with all sorts of proof of what he was working on and what an impressive man he was. I was still hesitant but interested.

It was requested that we go for a walk and continue talking. As we walked he started talking about the people he knew like Robert Downey Jr. and Heather Graham. He talked about how shy Robert was when they met and he taught him how to approach women. He was Robert's mentor. He talked about sexual stuff. I'm thinking, this guy is a little off but, nothing shocks me much anymore. He was a really nice guy. He let me joke with him without getting pretentious and offended. This man was almost sixty and very overweight. He had to walk with his head tilted up because his asthma was so bad. He taught me some karate moves so that I could defend myself by knocking someone in the windpipe. He was just showing off. I went home.

He proceeded to call me a couple days later. We talked about what he was working on. He would tell me random stories that progressively got more disturbing. He said to let him know when I was available for coffee again so I could look at the script he was working on. Then he started calling every day. He said if I ever ran into him on the street and he was with someone that he had a very jealous wife and another girlfriend that he keeps an apartment for so he might not acknowledge me. Another story was the time he met Heather Graham. She came into the hotel room they were holding an audition at. She asked to use the bathroom and he walked in on her and proceeded to ...well... it was a shocking story. Finally he told me about the time he killed a guy that tried to mug him in central park.

Alright, this guy is nuts. He is out of his mind but for some reason he is so amusing and honestly, he never made a pass at me. He wasn't even trying to meet me anymore. It was like he was calling just to tell me stories. Then he wanted to know if I would go to that film festival he had told me about. We would only be gone for the weekend. Uh.... no.... I don't want to do that.

Eventually I did something that pissed him off. He was trying to convince me to come to the festival and my phone died. When I was able to plug it in again I had this very angry message saying I was an immature little bitch and if I didn't want to speak to him I need not rudely hang up. Whoa, he had never flared up in anger like that before. I responded directly to his voice mail and explained that I had not intended to hang up. I did NOT want to be on this persons bad side. Then I never answered his calls again.

Fast forward a few years. My friend and roommate of four years that had been with me at the Virgin Store and at the bistro that night was working at her fancy restaurant serving job when in walks the director with a young hopeful girl. I'm sure she just shook her head and thought poor thing. He then began coming in all the time. Always with a different woman. Frequently taking them up to his hotel room next door. Everyone working at that restaurant knew him and knew what he was doing. Sadly I was the one on the other side of the table once. I've been aware for years of what a scary man he is but today I found this article detailing a lot of the things he had told me. He is an old perverted womanizer and yet I really enjoy that I have this story to share. So thanks James. (I did not write his full name in this story for obvious reasons.)

A Year Ago

Today I was thinking about delicious malt drinks and I suddenly remembered my post mentioning Ovaltine. So I started looking for that old post and to my great shock found that it was a year ago tomorrow! How is that for timing? Then as I read over the post I realized how much has changed.

I am no longer addicted to Ovaltine. I just like it.

I actually was diagnosed with GAD after announcing I assumed I had it. I don't want the meds though.

I've recently realized my close friends are very different from the people they were a year ago. As am I. That is good.

I still ramble. A lot. What do you do about that sort of thing? You would think blogging would help but no... now I just ramble about my blog. That has to be annoying.

I did start seeing a voice teacher. I started out going once a week and now I've trickled down to when I feel like it. Singing is my therapy. It's just so damn expensive to get help. I mean, I was paying $320 a month to sing in some guys apartment. Then I saw a psychiatrist for a bit when I couldn't seem to get over the trauma of having seizures. Talking about it made me feel worse. Turns out that was a bad idea. Stick to voice lessons.
It's been a year since my last tattoo. Time for a new one I think. In June it will be a year since my last piercing. Maybe I should wait a month and combine the two. I don't want to get out of hand.

Last night I was looking for any photos I might have from the stupid pageant I was in (Beauty Queen Post) but no luck. Remember when we used to develop pictures? The last picture I had developed was my headshot a few years ago. I think.

Anyway, last year at this time I was blogging about my love of Ovaltine. This time I am going to blog about my new found love of Absinthe. Have you had it? Oh, it's glorious! It's like drinking black jelly beans. Tuesday night was a poker night and it got down to the last two players. Just me and Billy fighting for the cash at 2am. He decided it was time for some Absinthe. I've only had it a few times and every time was with Billy. He seems to be a pro at the whole amazing process. The preparation is just an amusing build up to the surprising taste and delightful high. Yes it's a spirit that doesn't get you down. I didn't see any green fairies yet but when I do I'll let you know. If I could find anyone else that really enjoys that taste I would consider throwing an Absinthe tasting party. Anyone? Anyone?

WWC- Treasure and Junk

It's Weekly Words Challenge day and I'm shocked as hell that I have remembered to participate twice in a row! WWC is hosted by the kick-ass Tink of Pickled Beef. The words for this week were Treasure and Junk.These are my treasures. All of the items would be considered junk to anyone else but to me they hold a lot of memories of people and places that meant a lot to me throughout my life.

This is my junk box piled in a corner. Everything is mostly unused so I feel like I should do something with it and not throw it out. So that qualifies it as junk and not trash....right?

Treasures and junk all mixed in one. No, I don't wear all this crap at once.

I'm really liking the WWC. It's forcing me to understand my digital camera.
Back to work now.

Beauty Queen

My grandmother put me in a beauty pageant when I was in the seventh grade. I was nervous about the pageant part but I liked performing and I would get to do a song of my choice on stage as well as buy new clothes. Let me tell you, pageants were not for me. I remember going to the rehearsals in a garage where they would ask us questions and tell us how to sit properly. (You can't cross your legs. You must cross your ankles and sit up at the edge of the seat.) Some of the other girls kept trying to talk to me but I found them all so creepy I didn't want to know them. They basically just ran us through the line up of the show a few times when we had rehearsals and then bam it was time for the show.

I don't think I looked much like a pageant girl. My grandmother did my hair and makeup all the time when I was little. I loved it. But I never looked like a drag queen and I never did big hair. I looked normal.

We went into an interview where I refused to answer the way I knew they wanted me too. I remember one question exactly. "What animal are you most like and why?" Obviously the panel was very deep. I remember answering that it would have to be a monkey because I'm a fun person who likes to play around and enjoy myself. I failed the interview.

The show opened with the contestants doing a little dance and then it was the casual wear section where we each came out and modeled an outfit of our choice. I wore bell bottoms with a few big flower patches. Thankfully my parents let me do what I wanted or I might have come out in business attire like some of the other creepy girls.

Next we did our performances. I can only remember a couple routines. Some girl did a tap dance. Another did a gymnastics routine on a hobby horse her dad made. I came out in a Victoria's Secret blue silk slip and sang "I Feel Pretty" while sitting on a white fur bench in front of a vanity. I want to remind you I was twelve.

Then we modeled our evening wear which was a dress and heels I couldn't walk in. After all this crap they finally get to announcing the winner and handing out the trophies. Trophies? I thought you got crowns. Whatever, I didn't care. So who wins? The chick doing gymnastics on the hobby horse. But I was awarded "Best Talent" and walked away with my trophy.

That was the one and only time I have been to a pageant. It was not for me. I did start performing at every venue in the area. I wore a hippie outfit and sang "Frank Mills" at every mall and fair in the city. Now THAT was a good time.



Found something exciting on Etsy today. Look HERE. Scary right? People come up with some interesting things.

Stuff

Some interesting things. Found this attention test over at BBC.

Found this at work today and couldn't help but laugh.

I know. I'm a little messed up.

PFC- "Dark Ocean"

I was going to avoid it but I've gone too far. Now I'm about to do something crazy. Yep, I'm going to write you a little story. R.E.H. over at Ramblings of a Madman hosts the monthly Picture Fiction Challenge (PFC). This is the second month. I'm sure he hosts this because he is extremely talented but for some reason I decided I would pretend I could write this time and join in on the action. Here is how we play. R.E.H. does a random picture search on flickr. Then we look over the rules.

THE PICTURES:
Each picture below represents a certain aspect of the story. Analyze each picture and try to interpret what you see into the specific category the picture represents.






And with these rules I have created an absolutely insane story. Don't be afraid.

......... Dark Ocean..............

"It's Time"

She choked on the words as she jolted awake at four am Monday morning. In a whirlwind of panic she packed the necessities and ran out into the dark. The world was asleep.

"Which way?"

She spoke to herself but she was calling out to the universe for a sign. The silence swarmed in around her. White noise made her feel utterly alone on the dark empty street. She was confused and scared. Her eyes started to water and everything around her seemed to spin. There was no time for this. Not now. She focused on one object until everything was distinct and clear again.

Roaring in the distance. That was it. The sound of ocean waves hitting up against the sand. So she ran hard and fast with a cramp in her side trying to cripple her.

"I know what you are doing and it won't work."

She blamed all the stalling and confusion on an outside source without a name. Something she had been battling against for a long time. Tonight would be the final fight.

When she hit the sand she could hardly breath. Salty tears covered her face. Without thinking she took off her heavy coat and began unpacking her things. First was the camera. She wanted whatever happened to be documented. There had to be proof. So she set up the tripod and adjusted the camera to face the ocean.

"What now? Do I wait?"

Again, calling out to nothing. She was certain the answers would come. Sitting in the sand she stared at the water. Seconds slowly ticking by. Each one an eternity. Her heart was racing. She didn't even realize she was freezing. As the cold took over her body her anxiety was getting worse. It wouldn't be dark much longer. The sound of the ocean became distorted in her mind. It turned back into the distant roaring she had heard on the street. The roaring of an animal. A large animal. A tiger. The tiger trapped in the ocean. How could it be trapped in the ocean? On a boat? A raft? How did it get out there?

"It's lost in the dark."

Her mind jumbling up excuses and trying to explain what she was hearing lost all reason completely. In her internal struggle she had decided to save the Tiger from the dark water. From the impending doom that came with the sun. She started screaming out to the ocean. Staring at the darkness.

"Wait, the camera."

Running back to turn on the flash and set the timer she suddenly devised a plan.

"Bait!"

She could lure the tiger out of the water with food. If she had food. She collapsed next to her bag and started digging. A cup, batteries, hairspray, candle, candy. Yes, m&m's would be perfect. She tore the bag open with her teeth and dumped them in the cup. Calling out to what she now imagined to be a helpless kitten floating in the water. She mewed and held out the cup towards the black vast darkness.

"Here kitty kitty."

Nothing.
She walked closer.
Mindlessly she entered the icy water and scattered the candies to attract the cat.
She couldn't leave. This had to be done.

On Monday afternoon a young man was thumbing through the photographs he had just developed at the one hour shop. He had found a camera during his morning run and hoped to find the owner. The first several photos were of the empty beach at night. Then a young woman was in the shot. She looked a mess with red puffy eyes, tangled hair, and a runny nose. In the last photo the woman was in the ocean waist deep in the middle of winter. That was it. Nothing more.


**********************

First WWC

After months and months of meaning to participate I have finally decided to join in on the Weekly Word Challenge hosted by Tink of Pickled Beef. This weeks words are Foreign and Domestic.

This is my domestic wine from upstate NY with my Domestic view from my apt.


These are my foreign language refrigerator instructions. I went with the curve and a slight blur to reflect how I can only sort of read and understand them.

That was fun.

I was on the phone with my mother yesterday. She is the only person in the family that has made any sort of effort to understand our lineage. She did this for her side of the family and my father's. I'm very thankful to her for this because everyone in the family seems to be very confused about where we came from. So yesterday because of St. Patrick's Day I asked my mom, "I am a little bit Irish right?" She has concluded from her research that my brother and I are 5/8ths German, 1/8th Irish, 1/8th Scottish, and 1/8th English. There is probably more in smaller fractions. No wonder we don't really associate with anything in particular. It sounds like our ancestors just ran about breeding with whomever they pleased. I can respect that.

Home(s)

I'm the type of person that really enjoys having alone time. I only have one sibling and we both had our own rooms growing up. My parents allowed us a lot of privacy because they both worked and for the most part respected our private space.
When I first moved to New York six and 1/2 years ago I lived in student housing (aka: a dirty little closet with a bunk bed) with a nice enough girl from the UK. It was a big change. When I finally moved into an apartment it was a rodent infested two bedroom converted to a three. We had very little space and it was hard not to fight because we couldn't get away from each other. It didn't help that one of the roommates was a close-talker and we would have to physically hold her back with our arms. When we realized we had mice I stopped sleeping and made myself sick. We had to move.

Luckily I went on tour for three months (living in a van and hotel rooms) and when I got back I moved with one roommate to queens. This wasn't so bad. Our dumb ass super never turned on the heat in the winter so we were always freezing but at least we didn't have infestations. We were in a two story house. At one point the apt below us had a fire in their closet. I had just walked out of the apartment to the deli and by the time I got back the place was surrounded by fire trucks. They had axed down our door and all of the windows. My roommates bed was covered in glass, our windows were all boarded up, and our new front door/piece of wood was locked shut with padlocks. Meaning, we had to come and go together. The "fire" was just smoke. We were done with Queens.
At the end of that year we decided we needed to be back in Manhattan and somehow a two bedroom for less rent than our Queens apartment was located via Craigslist on the Upper East Side. This was new territory for both of us but it was the perfect amount of space and the six floor walk up made our legs stay in great shape. Here is the proof.

Living on the UES forces you to get used to taking buses which is a big step in Manhattan living. Until you learn the bus system you don't ever bother going across town. You would consider the other side of Central Park non existent. We lived in that apartment together for two years until June last year when I finally had the opportunity I have longed for my entire life. Living alone!

It was finally financially possible for me to get an apartment by myself in a safe neighborhood. It's wonderful. It is the tinniest place ever and I should never have more than three people in in at once but it's mine. It's my stuff and it's always empty when I get there. I love coming home to my empty apartment where if there is a mess it is never unexpected. It's my food and my space and I'm all alone to do whatever odd things I please. All this sounds wonderful but I have developed a new problem. I find that I never want to leave. What if I become some sort of Anti-Social freak and my old friends would have to come drag me out physically? Creepy.
I wonder what will happen next? I don't forsee upgrading any time in the next several years. Will I stay where I am? Who knows. Life is a crapshoot.

F Winter

I'm so f'n sick of winter. I don't like cold. In the winter I'm less likely to go out. I want to stay in my warm apartment and not walk anywhere. I also want to eat a lot which I think is my attempt at hibernating. I'm boring in the winter.

In the summer I go crazy. I like to hang out on my roof and view the lights. I like to walk around the city and shop, or dine at any place with outdoor seating so I can people watch. I love roller skating in the park and meeting friends in sheep's meadow every weekend. I never think it's so hot it's miserable. I don't even have air conditioning. I just love summer. It never lasts long enough.

Spring is dead to me. I pretend it doesn't exist.

Tonight I'm supposed to go out with some friends. We were trying to come up with something really interesting so when I discovered this XXX Adult Drawing Party with open wine bar and naked porn stars I thought it was perfect. Then I realized it's tomorrow. Damn! I always miss the important details.


Ciao for now.

In Moderation

Heyo.

The ever so adorable Single of Single in the City was kind enough to give me an award yesterday. So I want to thank her for being awesome.



I'm not really sure what that is a picture of but I choose to believe it is a bar at the beach. That is what it looks like anyway and can you imagine anything more delightful than having a drink at the beach? I can't.

On that note I should mention, I'm not an alcoholic. I know in reading many of my blog posts you might think otherwise but I've calmed down a lot in my old age. I'm almost 25 after all.

Speaking of turning 25, I'm searching for ideas for my birthday party this year. It's on a Monday in June and I'm thinking I will do a Sunday night outing at the diviest dive bar I can find in Manhattan. I know plenty but I'm open to new ideas. I'm also looking forward to the trial runs I have to do before inviting everyone. You meet the coolest freaks at cockroach infested pubs. Anybody have any ideas? Last year I invited everybody to drink boxed wine in Central Park. I enjoy having all my friends around in a low key atmosphere where it doesn't cost us a shit load and we can sing/scream if we want to.
This place looks perfect!

Bruises, Paint, & Passports

Hey all. It's been awhile. I'll just do an update to start. Friday night I went to a birthday party at Mason Dixon where you can order beer by the bucket and ride a mechanical bull. Oh yeah, I rode that bull. I was going to post a picture but none of them look exciting. I lucked out because my only injuries are a small bruise the size of the tip of my finger on the inside of each thigh. Some people told me they have bruising all down their thighs. I did not ask to see.

After Saturday morning brunch with Casey I had a strong desire to spend time at the hardware store. Since it was pouring out I figured it was a good day to stay in the apartment and paint all the wood doors black. I picked up my supplies and spent the rest of the day priming and painting to my hearts content. The black glossy paint I used dried perfectly with a sheen that makes it look like I covered the doors in leather. Perfect! When I was done I laid back and enjoyed the fumes.

Sunday night I had a birthday party to attend at Beauty Bar. It's an interesting place where the walls are lined with old fashioned hairdryers. On Wednesdays you can get a free manicure when you purchase a martini. I find that sort of gross. The party turned into more of a photo shoot but we had a great time. I also considered posting a photo of this but I have a feeling my friends won't appreciate me posting photos of them on a public blog.

I called out of work on Monday due to feeling crappy and spent the entire day in bed. I could have used yesterday to accomplish so much more... but no.

Over the weekend I also received my passport. I keep staring at it and thinking I could just leave right now. I can get in a cab to JFK, charge a flight to a credit card and go wherever the hell I want. If only I didn't have to do things like, go to work and maintain a job so I can pay rent. I would also need to pay off that credit card. Is it worth it? I don't know.

Peep Show!

I just realized it's almost that time of year where children play with eggs and dye, eat shit loads of chocolate, and get easily distracted playing in the yard looking for things for hours. Since moving to New York I had never celebrated this holiday but last year we had a grand time. A lovely lady with the last name Eyster held Eyster Brunch. We all showed up and drank a lot per usual. William brought us eggs with scary pictures and lotto tickets inside. Someone brought a bodega baby Jesus candle so we lit it at the table for brunch and every bar we hit after. At some point we lost him in a gay bar with a stripper. Then we all stumbled back to our homes and tried to drink enough water to go to work the next day. It's a lot like St. Patrick's day come to think of it. *sigh* I miss those good old brunches we used to have. What happened to us? Did we all get too old? Did our livers give up? It's been a long time since I've woken up on Doodle's futon at 6am Monday morning realizing I have to go to work soon.

The Hot and the Homeless

Last night I was out drinking wine and listening to jazz with A and NYCeCe.
We had not all been out together in awhile and it was great to catch up on a lot of things. At one point we remembered one of those great city stories that is blog worthy. NyCeCe promised to write it and if she does I will link it here but I'm going to do my half assed version anyway.
******************************************
One summer night several years ago I was headed to meet NyCeCe at her job on the Upper West Side. I did this frequently so I usually stood outside the employee exit and waited for her to come out. I was still a block or two away from her job when an extremely attractive man stops me in the street. He started telling me how stunning I am (which in this city happens to everyone everywhere) but I was a little surprised by his behavior. I thanked him and tried to keep walking but he followed me. "I know this is awkward and I don't want to scare you but I'm in a bad situation and I was hoping you could help."
I'm not usually very nice to strangers but he had captured my interest. After all, he was damn hot. He told me that he recently became homeless and needed a place to stay. He asked me, a stranger in the street, if he could come home with me. I laughed and said I wasn't going home, I was going to meet a friend at her work. Then I commented that he certainly didn't look homeless.
I kept walking. He followed. "Do you mind if I join you while you wait for your friend?" He was kind of charming. Sure attractive homeless guy. You can wait with me in the street because NyCeCe has to see this.
It was worth it. She came out of that employee exit, saw me standing with this guy and I could see the "Who's the hottie?" look on her face. I introduced him by name and then promptly announced, "We just met. He's homeless." So we invited him to join us for a pitcher of Sangria.
As we drank our fruity wine we were asking him questions about why he was homeless and where he had been staying. Basically, we were trying to figure him out. It didn't make sense. In the meantime he is hitting on both of us and trying to get one of us to invite him home. On the one hand, the guy needed help. On the other, we are not stupid. Visions of Charles Manson are going through our heads. So we both told him over and over again that we were very sorry but neither of us would be providing his shelter for the night. Then he pulled out a $20 and tried to pay for the Sangria. What? Where did that come from? No homeless man, this one is on us.
I don't really remember what happened after we left that place. I think we basically ran so the guy would stop following us.
This is only one of the many, many odd outings we have shared. I like this story. I frequently wonder where the hot homeless man is now. I wonder what lucky lady finally did take him home. I also wonder if he killed her. Ah, good times.

What am I talking about?

I mentioned that I am crazy in the last post and I thought maybe I should clarify that I like being crazy. I think crazy is normal. Most people that think they are normal are actually naive and/or frightning. Like this woman...



Mike posted this video the other day. I originally saw this on Wife Swap on ABC a long time ago. I remember laughing and laughing. In this episode a Christian family swaps mom's with a Wiccan family. Other than the crazy mom you see flipping out here in the last five minutes of the show, the episode was pretty boring. This provides a great example of someone who thinks they are normal.


In the 60's people thought Hippies were crazy. I wish I had been alive in the 60's. I have wanted to be a hippie all my life. It just isn't the same thing now. I missed all the fun. I have to fight "the man", make love not war, AND cut/wash my hair? That isn't fair.

I put black nail polish on Casey's toes about six months ago and this morning I made him sit still while I removed the last bit of it. How can that stay on him so long and the purple nail polish on my fingers that was applied two days ago is almost completely chipped away already? Wtf?
What does that have to do with anything?

When I was a child I spent a lot of time around perm solution. That might explain a lot. I was at my grandmothers all the time and she had a beauty shop as part of her home. As a child I spent countless hours giving perms to mannequin heads. Imagine the fumes I must have been inhaling into my little lungs. *Sigh* Memories.

The Scream

A letter to Edvard Munch:

Hey Ed,
I was thinking about this painting of yours and you know, I feel you man. All that intense emotion swirling around in the bloody sky. That isn't a scream of fear. That is a scream of absolute madness. Frustration to the point of your head exploding. Everything around you is going wrong and you break down into a panic attack. Yeah, I'm having one of those days today. Just another day at work, you know? Maybe I'm reading you all wrong. Maybe you are just a crazy bastard like all other artists. Well that's okay Ed cause I'm crazy to.

Weekend Overview

Too much happening. No time to blog. Or, I'm just too lazy to make time.

Friday night I went uptown to Casey's apt. I brought the makings for rice krispie treats and because the grocery store had the brilliant foresight to place generic marshmallows next to Chimay, I brought a bottle of that as well. Then we sat around with Billy and Mark eating Chinese food and watching... well... it would be inappropriate to say what we were watching.

Saturday night was filled with ex-coworkers, one of my favorite dive bars, and the announcement that StumpsAround did an AMAZING job on the GMATS. Good work lady!

I woke up yesterday to a text informing me Casey was called into work early. That sucks. It's the guys freakin birthday and they call him in to a twelve hour shift. Sorry babe. So instead of seeing him I went to brunch with A. She invited me to see the hipster version of Much Ado About Nothing. It sounds like it would be horrible, but honestly it was pretty funny. When you think about it, this modernization is really obvious. Some of the actors were really exciting to watch. They had creative ideas that kept you guessing. Some of it was just silly nonsense that distracted you from the story. At intermission I got a text from Doodle offering me a free ticket to In the Heights which recently moved to Broadway. Of course I went. I wasn't sure if I was going to like this show but it is really different from what I was expecting. It's about living in Washington Heights and the main character is a bodega worker from the Dominican Republic that raps his songs. The music was great but the story line was odd. I didn't care though. I got too distracted by the nut next to me that started sobbing and then picking her nose.

So I didn't get a chance to write over the weekend but could you do me a favor please? Could you help end global violence against women? I know that sounds like a lot but just being aware helps.