This One? This One is for The Girl I Used to Be

I damn near had a heart attack this morning. I had just finished closing paperwork at the club, ready to collect everything, turn off the lights, and call it a night. Er. Day. Whatever. I was going to put my radio away, when I heard the sound of a little voice saying, "... excuse me?"

I just about jumped out of my skin. There was one of the girls that had arrived at the club earlier that night, stepping meekly out of the shadow of the closed bar. I asked her why she was still there, mentality cussing out the security company for not telling me there was still somebody in here. She explained that she had been waiting for my fellow manager, Nick, to give her a ride. Nick had left over an hour earlier. I told her as much, and she started spazzing, trying not to cry. She explained she was supposed to stay at Nick's that night, and she had nowhere else to go or anything. Long story short, we managed to get ahold of one of the DJs that had been playing that night who had invited her to his place. During the whole mess, hough, she kept asking me for advice, and confessing her feelings and fears to me.

I felt so bad for that girl. And I tried to tell her everything I wish someone had told me back when I was her age. I don't know if she'll listen, or understand, but for posterity, I'm sharing it with all of you.

1. You cannot believe anyone when they say they won't hurt you right off the bat.
They don't know you at all at that point, they don't know what will hurt yoy. They have no right to make that promise. And if you want to be close to someone, you will end up being hurt at some point. It's scary and unpleasant, and might take YEARS to come to terms with, but it is how people learn about one another and grow together.

2. Sex is nothing to be ashamed of. 
Sex is fun, exciting,  and when you're with someone who knows what they are doing, it is so awesome there are no accurate words to describe it. It's perfectly natural and human to want to do it, and to want to do it with multiple people. That's ok!!! What's NOT ok is allowing yourself to be disrespected for it. Don't let anyone slut shame you for something so enjoyable. Be safe, and be proud of the fact that you love yourself and your body enough to let it do its thing. Anyone who tries to make you feel lesser for it, doesn't deserve to hang out with you (and frankly, probably isn't getting laid as much as they'd like).

3. Be Safe!!!
Cannot stress this enough. Condoms, birth control- use it. And for every day life? Know your limits.  Don't let anyone put you in an uncomfortable position.

4. Accidents still happen. Chlamydia is not the end of the world.
Pretty self-explanatory.

5. Work on being known for what you do, not whom or how you look.
You are more than tits and ass. Flaunt it if you want to,  but don't expect a solid relationship that was built on cleavage.

6. It's ok if you hate yourself sometimes.  But when you do, try facing what you hate about you.
This is probably the most terrifying thing a person can do. It requires a hell of a lot of self-awareness, and a butt ton more honesty. But you'll be much more satisfied with yourself when all is said and done.

Alright, sermon's over. Share this with anyone you know that may need to hear it.

The Internet Needs a Breathalyzer

Oh man.

You should never be online drunk. Ever.

You see, whenever I am drunk, I seem to think I am supposed to be productive. This can be a positive thing- I have been known to clean my room, do dishes, wash my dogs, and sweep impeccably while in a drunk shitshow haze. However, NOT good when I have internet access. I seem to get the grand idea that I am a financial genius when drunk (very untrue), and I will get onto travel websites and browse.  Usually, I pass out before doing anything truly stupid, but Sunday night... oh boy.

You see, we had wrapped on the commercial that I got hired onto, and so we had a wrap party. We. Got. HAMMERED. At the end of the night, a cab was called for my drunk ass, and I was taken home. Where I then proceeded to hop online, and decide that, "fuck it!", I was going to go to Birmingham the next day to see J. Apparently,  Drunk Andi is a bargin shopper. Like, bottom of the barrel bargin shopper. I reserved bus tickets to get there and back, and then proceeded to reserve a hotel room. I woke up the next morning remembering all of this, and cursing my dumb ass and the hangover I brought myself. So, head spinning, I headed to the bus station and headed west for the day.

I took a greyhound to Birmingham,  and was lucky enough to not have to sit next to any tragedies.  Got to Alabama,  wandered the city a bit, then met up with J. After a hangover-curing sushi dinner, we went to the hotel I had booked so I could check in. It was an America's Best Inns and Suites.

It took the receptionist 15 minutes to check me in, and it just went downhill from there. When J and I headed to my room, we passed a side table wih a wadded up purple thong. Then, we passed a woman who looked so rough in my hall, there's no way she WASN'T on something. Upon entry in the room, I encountered the ugliest bedspread I have ever seen, the refrigerator door came completely off, and there were mysterious stains in the bathroom. It was so revolting,  it was hysterically funny. I started checking all of the drawers, just to make sure nothing would jump out at me in the night. So lesson learned: if I want to take a trip to B'ham ever, don't book drunk. Don't ever book drunk.

Really, they should just install Breathalyzers on computers.  Think of how many terrible facebook dramas and other internet horror stories could be avoided by your laptop telling you to just go pass out, you're drunk! Engineers, get on that. Thanks!

The following photo is from my younger drinking days. I am sharing it to illustrate my clearly amazing decision-making skills.

Living Life By the Frizz

Man, there are days like today when I SWEAR I should have been kidnapped, like, five times already. You see, I have a habit of occasionally hopping into cars with perfect strangers for no good reason other than they offer me a ride and I'm feeling lazy enough to accept. 

Now, I am smart enough not to get in any random creeper's car, but I will admit the look of some of the people I meet could raise some eyebrows. But I have gotten some awesome opportunities out of it! Like the past few days, for example.

Wednesday, I was headed into work for an early shift. Just before I got into work, a guy stopped me to ask about my tattoos.  I get that a lot, so I answered his questions and went about my day. Next day, on my way to work again, I ran into the same guy- this time, on the opposite side of town. We got talking, and he mentioned he was location scouting.  I gave him a few pointers pon areas to look into. He offered me a ride to work, and I agreed.

Before I continue!  I honestly didn't believe his location scout story. I assumed he was trying to impress the cute tatted chick, and I was just going to use him for the 5 minute drive. Another important factoid- he wasn't giving me any creepy vibes at all. Now, there was definitely the chance he could have been a rapist, or a serial killer,  or any number of things. However, living life comes down to trusting your gut and taking risks. This risk paid off- turns out, dude actually IS a location scout. I helped him out all Friday afternoon, and now I'm a production assistant on an NFL/Visa commercial.

Go figure! :D

Even better?  Looks like I may be getting steady work doing location scout work through him. Moral of the story? Don't fear your fellow human being. Be cautious,  but take a risk or two- makes everything way more interesting in the end!

Thinking (wo)Man

This posting every 3 days thing seems to be working out pretty well for me, I think...

I've been thinking about my future a lot lately.  Not to say I didn't before, but now the mindset is different.  Instead of thinking,  "When I get older I'll...", I am reaching the point where I actually feel like I can start doing those things. I haven't hit the "shit or get off the pot" point, but it's certainly an interesting feeling that hey, if I want to start a festival,  or make my bar happen, I can start and be taken halfway seriously.  My friends have started posting wedding and baby photos- in short order, I could be doing that, too.

So now the question becomes,  not what do I want to do, but when? How will I prioritize my dreams? What do I want to accomplish first, and where? After all,  as much as I love Atlanta, I don't intend to stay here forever. Hell, I honestly don't intend to be here this time in 2014. Ultimately, what kind of person do I see myself becoming,  and how do I get there? I never thought I would have to think about this. Unfortunately for me, things do not fall neatly into place until you make the call as to which places you want to go.

Man, someone should have warned me about that shit.

Twerked off

I've been a slacker lately.

Well, no- slacker is the wrong term. I have been incredibly indecisive.  And a bit ditzy- I have written 3 posts I  the last week, and totally forgot to save the drafts. So, hours of writing and trying to decide what to post? Right down the shitter. Gets a little frustrating. 
Anyway,  things have been going pretty well.  Club  work is proving to be interesting enough, and is undoubtedly providing me with fodder for this blog. Like tonight. I bring to your attention our children's current dilemma: twerking.

Seriously,  what the fuck. At the risk of making myself sound old, at least my generation's shitty dancing (the macarena) required some basic rhythm and left you with a marginal amount of dignity. Hell, I am even impressed with that Gagnam Style thing (however that's spelled). That required learning a bit of choreography!  But twerking?  Jesus fucking christ. Jiggle your ass until it has a mind of its own?  No, thank you. Ladies, do yourself a favor and fucking stop it. That will never look good. Ever. You realize we invented Spanx specifically to prevent that, right? Don't let that be in vain.

Timeless

I am fairly certain I have been born in the wrong era. I look at so many people who are my age, and all I want to do is shake them. I am not old, I know that. But the nightclub I work at? So many of the patrons are SO devoid of common sense that I refer to them as "the kids".  It really doesn't help that I have never been much of a raver- I like dancing,  but to something that DOESN'T sound like a trash compactor fucking the garbage truck.

My tastes frequently surprise J, too. You see, there is 19 years difference between he and I- so whenever I bust out with a Toto sing-a-long, he'll ask if I'm secretly in my mid - thirties. It works for us, though. We think incredibly alike, and even though we belong to two totally different time frames,  somehow we just get each other. I blame my parents for giving me old-fogie music tastes. :) Couldn't be happier,  either! <3

The Baconing

I have a confession to make.

I have no fucking clue how to eat bacon in public.

Allow me to explain- while my mom was raising us kids, she brought us up to have MANNERS. Not just manners, but "God-help-you-if-we-go-out-in-public-and-you-misbehave" MANNERS. One of the rules we learned was never put our hands in our plate, eat with a fork and knife. Bacon has posed the unique challenge of, I've seen other people use their fingers, but then again I also see people use a fork. So, proper bacon etiquette eludes me. J thinks I'm just silly to worry about it.  He has no idea the moral dilemma I face. :P

Growth Spurt

My nails have been painted for two weeks straight.

For the first time in over a year.

It is incredible to me. Actually having the free time to do and maintain them, and NOT be panicking over not working? Why, I may actually be becoming a real human being!

Maybe it's because I'm finally not stressed about money as much anymore- it's still a bit tight at the moment,  but I know that it will be fine soon. I'm finally earning enough to mentally justify time off. I can finally repay debts to friends,  and family, and before the year ends. I haven't been able to say that... ever. I will be able to have a not - heinous credit report by December.  In a shockingly roundabout way, I am finally becoming the adult I've thought I should be.

That excites me. It excites me a lot. Because along with the knowledge that I am finally a real adult, in age and in mindset, I will finally feel comfortable pursuing the "grown-up" goals I set for myself years ago- maintain a healthy relationship. Have a child. Return to improv comedy. Start my bar.

My new job is teaching me a lot. Especially about how much I still need to learn. But instead of wanting to throw a fit and bust heads, Adult Me is allowing myself to be calmer, more analytical.  It's a nice change of pace from the ridiculous amounts of anxiety I used to cling to.

Best part?

Adult Me still totally justifies gummi bears for breakfast.  :D

My Fixation

I am obsessed with food. I suppose I could also be called a "foodie", but I would hope not in the insufferable, annoyingly hipster, douchey sense it has come to be associated with.

I have a love affair with flavors, textures, and smells. There is nothing more beautiful to me than a well-designed menu, nothing more erotic than a gorgeous plate presented in an appropriate setting.  An inventive cocktail,  or an exceptionally well-made classic,  send my tastebuds into a complete tizzy.

But it's not just fine dining that gets me drooling more than Pavlov's dog. I also have a soft spot for the chwap, the greasy, and the "clearly-going-to-put-me-in-an-early-grave". Food is an adventure, the Final Frontier I otherwise wouldn't get to explore if I were to wait on space travel. It is because of this I have an exceptionally low tolerance for picky eaters.

Before everyone gets all up in arms about "respecting people's preferences" and all of that hoopla, let me explain- picky eaters piss me off so much because I WAS ONCE ONE MYSELF.

I decided I hated any food that came out of the sea or from a pig, onions, tomatoes, pickles, peppers, stroganoff, horseradish, anything that looked weird, and anything made with anything from that list. As well as a few things I'm forgetting,  I'm sure. I lived in Maine for eight years and refused to eat seafood. I didn't believe people who told me, "Oh, your tastes will change as you get older!"

I'm not entirely convinced that's the whole case. To be fair, yes, my tastes have changed, but I think early exposure could be a big difference too. I had a pretty standard hot dogs-and-grilled cheese menu growing up, and when new foods were introduced, it was always an overly intense and overwhelming experience.  These days, I go to restaurants and see children devouring sushi and sweetbreads and offal of all kinds. Part of it is probably the celebrity chef/foodie culture that has been developing over the past few decades. People are seeing all of this food porn floating around, and passing it to their kids. It's awesome to see... and twice as maddening to see pickiness rearing it's ugly head. With SO MUCH available from so many other cultures, how can anyone not be curious?!

Try everything twice, just in case the first time got fucked up.

New York, New York!

As I mentioned last post, I was in NYC! It was a very last-minute, fly by my ass vacation,  and it was just what I needed.

What had happened was, after I had been hired for the new gig, I had 4 days free between my last day at the old job and my first day at the new one. I had never been to New York City before, so I said screw it and got the flights arranged. After getting things mostly in order, I called J to share the news.

"Guess where I'll be Sunday?!"
"Wh-"
"NEW YORK CITY!!!!" (I was a little excited)

That's when he started laughing. "Really?? You are never going to believe this..."

He proceeded to explain he had been invited by one of his wine distributors to go to the city Sunday and Monday for a mset and greet and dinner. He wasn't sure if he was going to accept or not, but given the circumstances...

He had to do work stuff on Sunday, but we promised to spend all of Monday together.  So Sunday I flew up and walked all of the touristy parts I wanted to see- Chinatown, Little Italy, DUMBO, Brooklyn, Manhattan b the whole gamut. I saw an old improv friend of mine and got to catch up with him and meet a friend of his in a cute little Swiss café (can't remember the name to save my life, but they had phenomenal french toast). I walked across the Brooklyn Bridge, that was a fun hike- I even learned something!

When you walk across the bridge,  if you are paying attention, you notice a number of padlocks randomly locked along the course of the bridge. According to a tour guide I was sneaking behind,  a local legend is, if you write you and your lover's name on a lock, hook it on and throw the key off the bridge, you two will stay together forever.  A sweet tale... and I'm curious as to how many of those couples are still together? Some of the locks have been there so long, they've been painted over with the bridge a few times.

In the spirit of adventure, I hadn't booked a place to stay for the night officially.  By the time I thought about it, buses to New Jersey (where I had been offered a couch) had stopped. Being on the broke side, I decided to test the motto, "City That Never Sleeps". I headed to Times Square, where I proceeded to people watch and caught some "visual poetry" on the big screens. Met some fun random people that gave me insight on the Square itself, lied to Spiderman (he was being a pushy ass), and saw the excitement of the area fade into a sparse, deserted street. About 3am, I was wandering around the perimeter of Central Park when I stopped to write a bit. That was when I met Carl. An Upper West Side local, we got chatting and he was cool enough to hang out and keep me company. We talked about our significant others, life, the whole shebang. He was a great example of New York hospitality,  and I am happy to have met him.

In the morning proper, I met up with J. We had brunch in Manhattan at a little Italian place that was more atmosphere than anything else, though it did have an impressive wine list. We then hopped a cab to Chelsea, where we booked a room at the Chelsea Lodge. Built in the 1800s, it is a ...cozy B&B for lack of a better description.  We napped, then went to the Chelsea Market. We tried doughnuts at the Doughnuttery, and later got dinner at The Meatball Shop. Almost immediately after,  we came across a little German café that I insisted we try. We had a blast- it was the first time in a LONG time we had spent so much time together. I was sad to say goodbye- the day had felt like a beautiful dream,  and I was being forced to wake up.

My last day in New York solo was spent bumming around Soho, then heading to Queens to the hostel I was staying in my last night. The trip was an awesome,  and I couldn't be happier I took it- it was just what I needed to recharge my batteries and get ready for my next big adventure!