I should be beaten

That's right. I'm horrible. I should be beaten with a wooden club. Not only have I not posted in what feels like 7 years, I haven't written back so many innocent people who are kind enough to email me. It's those people my heart goes out to. Those caring, concerned friends that want to see what I'm up to and how I'm doing are what keeps me going and I can't even respond in a timely manner. How dare I? To those people: I'm sorry and I promise I'll write soon.

There are so many things to write about considering I haven't posted in a while. I think I'm going to write in bullet form to get everything down. I'm sure you won't mind.

- First things first, I'm a feisty firecracker right now. There have been 6, count them 6, roach killings in our apartment tonight, and I, yes you heard correctly, I have killed 5 of them. Let me be straight with you- I don't want to hear anyone call me prissy ever again. If you even think of throwing out the term "prissy" at me, I will come back and shove my roach stories in your face quicker than you can scream at the sight of them. And believe me- I did. It's funny the phases you go through when killing roaches. The first sighting I screamed my head off and yelled obscurities shameful to such a dainty girl like myself. The second sighting was followed by "For the love of Pete." The third sighting was "you've got to be kidding me." The fourth sighting was something insanely raunchy, and the fifth sighting and final killing was a mere "well, here's another one." So now even as I'm writing this I'm looking around just waiting. Waiting for another member of the roach mafia to delight me with his disgusting presence. I mean, I really wouldn't be surprised if a mouse wanted drop in and say hi. It's because it's so freakin hot.

- I've been up to a lot since the last time I posted. I went to a phat african dance class and sweated enough for roughly 5 burly sailor men. I've always wanted to take an african dance class, and I was so proud of myself for actually doing it. I didn't look that out of place because there were a lot of white girls there. There was a time where I was in the middle of the front line and I said to myself, "I really have to bring it. I'm in the middle of 2 black women that have obviously done these dances before." There were other people from the dance school there looking at me- I'm sure thinking to themselves, "what is this little white girl going to do?" Let me tell you. I did it. And I brought it. Booyah.

- I officially dislike my job at the steakhouse. Unfortunately I haven't even been there for a month and I already dislike it. It goes against a lot of things I stand for. First of all, it's a bleepin steakhouse. For those of you not familiar with my eating style, I'm a vegetarian. Granted, I have been wanting to take those steaks off of the patrons' plates and sink my teeth into them, but that's besides the point. The point is is that I'd much rather be giving my time and energy to a rinky dink veg/organic/non-stuck up cafe/grocery store/market. Secondly, it's not very woman friendly. That my friends, is where my main beef comes in. Haha. Beef. Get it......nevermind. Anyways, I get paid to flirt, kiss ass, and look pretty, and honestly that doesn't really fly with me. I know what some of you are saying: deal with it and except that you're making money off of it. Wrong. It would be different if I got tipped. It would be different if some hot man fell madly in love with me and wanted to take me shopping at Bloomingdales for being such a fantastic hostess. No. These men could give a flying flip about me or the table I sit them at. They don't care that I've been standing on my feet all day. They don't know that I think they are rude, selfish, stuck up bastards that hopefully have better things to do in life than make lame jokes and flirty remarks with the hostess 1/2 their age. It's not just the customers. It's the establishment as a whole. We can't wear pants, we have to wear skirts. We even have to wear pantyhose. In the manual it says that we were hired for how we look and that we should always wear lipstick. Well, let me take my lipstick and shove it up your rich......excuse me.

- On a much lighter note, I got into a show. I'm cast in a play called The Frogs that will be performed in early September in Central Park. It's going to be really hard once the show comes because I know my family won't be able to come and see it. Then again, Jet Blue is insanely cheap from Houston, so maybe they can. Hint hint.....I want to see you like crazy!!! Come and sleep on my couch! Eat my organic veggie burgers!! Kill my roaches for me!!! We haven't started rehearsals yet, but I'll keep you posted. I'm trying to stay very nonchalant about this whole play thing, but I'm not going to lie: I'm totally stoked. Who got into a show after their 2nd audition? That's right. Me. That's enough conceit. I'm done- promise.

- I've seen 2 celebrities: last week I sat across from Chris Parnell (from Saturday Night Live) in Union Square Park. Tonight I saw Pirates of the Caribbean and Lucy Lui was in line behind me. She's tiny and oh so cute!

- I miss rap music. I never hear it anymore! I'm such a sucker for rap music that whenever I do hear it, I start dancing wherever I am- even if I'm by myself!! Ah Houston, how I miss your ghetto radio stations.

- I'm looking for another place to live. It's that time again. I'm looking at a couple places this week, so I'll keep you posted.

Ok, that's good for now. The pictures are of one of my favorite parks in the city- Bryant Park, some pretty artwork I saw in Manhattan, me and some new friends at the Beergarden in Astoria, the view from the african dance studio and some really cheap basil and daisies I got at the market. The basil makes me think of my mom and sister. We always rub our fingers on basil to smell it's sweet leaves. I do it here, by myself, just to think of them- my 2 lovelies.

love love and all my thoughts,
Em