HEY EVERYONE!!!!!!


It's been so long since I've written any posts, I wonder if anyone reads this anymore! Anyway, I've been busy doing whatever it is I do out here. I finally got a REAL job! :-D You are now officially reading the words of the New York Kids Club's latest (and I might add greatest) employee! It's actually a pretty perfect job for me. The Kids Club is a place where children from 4 months to 14 years old come to take lessons, like gymnastics, ballet, rock climbing, martial arts, yoga, cooking, and whatnot. My job is to sit at the front desk, answer phones, and process all of the paperwork and computer entry associated with a business of that nature.

Actually, though,Ii get to play with little kids most of the day! :-D I get to play with bubbles, and stickers, and crayons, while singing along to kid songs and catching the little renegades who make a break for the exit. It's SWEET! AND I am required to take my shoes off as soon as I come in the door, so I also get to run around in my socks all day. The people I work with are awesome too. Everyone who works there is either a gymnastics coach, a dance teacher, or someone who just really loves to work with kids. We all get along very well and are all entertained very easily. My two bosses are the spittin-images of my two brothers, so I have already bonded with them. Like I said, it rocks. The other day, a little girl named Lu-Lu gave me one of her stick-on-earrings to wear on my cheek all day! I felt like I'd earned an Olympic medal! :-D You'd really be surprised how cute kids are when you only see them for an hour or two a week. ADORABLE!

Anyway, beyond that, I'm still trying to stay up to no good. I work from 8:30 to 5:30 every weekday, but I haven't let that get in the way of my Jameson Irish Whiskey promotions. I'm still dedicated to forcing whiskey shots on unsuspecting pub patrons while they're distracted by the tray full of flashing light-up shot glasses I'm forced to carry. The other night, in fact, a scary lesbian bartendeder man-handled me all over her crappy bar--so much so, that I am NEVER GOING BACK THERE! I tell ya...never a dull moment.

But ya, this new job is sweet, I make pretty good money, I'm good at it, and I love what I do and where I do it. Things are shaping up out here, no doubt!

Anyhoo, I hope all my friends and family are doing well and I would love to hear from you! Hopefully I'll talk to you soon! xoxoxooxoxoxox

Only 9 more days 'til I'm in Idaho!!! I can't WAIT to see Buddah and the whole fam!!! :-D

Anyway, Saturday was an epic night in the life of Kristina...

First, I started the night while doing Jameson Irish Whiskey promotions at various pubs around Manhattan, which went well, considering I consumed probably 8 shots of the troublesome drink... After which, Becky and I went to the $1 pizza stop and had to mingle with the bums 'til our turn came to eat the absolute BEST pizza in the city. Anyway, while stuffing my drunk face, I asked Becky to call her bf and find out what the heck was going on tonight, when lo and behold, he and 5 of his friends pull up to the pizza stop on a 6-person bicycle that they'd rented out for the evening.

anyhoo, after that random run-in, Becky and I went to a couple of bars to play some pool and put out the vibe on the dance floor. At our usual pool joint, some creepy massage therapist/tarot card reader/healer gave the both of us full-body massages in the bar, after which we decided to head to some place less sketchy. Anyhoo, while playing pool at our back-up pool joint (where the beer costs twice as much, but the pool's free), when we realized that our black-out wasted friends we'd run into at the pizza joint were in the same bar one floor up dancing their uncoordinated white hineys off.

Needless to say, we went up to join them and after a couple of free beers earned from a kindly bartender who took a little too much pleasure in watching us perform Napoleon Dynamite moves on the dance floor, Becky and the boys went up to the Upper East Side and I made my home to our crappy little apartment in Hell's Kitchen.

A joint and a screwdriver later, I was definitely tipsy, when my porn-star friend Pamela came over to hang out. Several shots of cheap-ass vodka and another couple of joints later, one might say that I was "blacked out". At which point I seemed to think that it would be a good idea to call EVERYONE in my phone until my battery ran out somewhere around 6:30 in the morning...

So at this point, I would like to apologize for anything I might have said while in that drunken-dialing state to everyone who has ever made the fatal mistake of giving me his or her phone number...in fact, I guess I'd better apologize twice to some people, because I apparently called Nick Dasher and God knows WHO else more than once within a matter of minutes with no recollection of having spoken to the other person earlier in the night... sorry...?

Anyway, I was in BEYOND classic form that night and woke up the next morning to a mess of spilled orange juice, spattered bacon grease everywhere, an empty fridge, and no idea of what the HECK had gone on within my apartment between the hours of 3 am and 1:30 pm.

Alcohol is the devil...

AND P.S.: CONGRATULATIONS MER!!!!!! YOU'RE OFFICIALLY DONE WITH COLLEGE!!!!! YOU ROCK AND I WISH MORE THAN ANYTHING THAT I COULD BE THERE FOR THE PARTY OF A LIFETIME THAT I'M SURE YOU'RE HAVING!!! I HEART U!!!! XOXOXOXO

WOW, has it been a long time since I updated my blog or what??? I think it's been almost a month and a half! I guess I've just been so busy that I've neglected my cyber-friends! (And: Yes! I do have friends! Be nice)

Anyhoo, the quick run-down of sequences of events goes as follows: I was stuck with two annoying Australian houseguests for a week, after which I wanted to kill myself; I FINALLY got a job after taking shots with some sketchy Irish guy at one of my regular hangouts; my job consisted of being a waitress at an Irish pub called... how embarrassing... The Hairy Monk. Anyway, I started the job in an all-out Bat-Girl costume (mask, cape, utility belt, and everything) and worked there for a month; a week before Thanksgiving, an important teacher from my past passed away; I visited Idaho; I went to my first REAL Broadway show; I got fired from my job; and I have re-joined the ranks of the professional party-girls here in NYC.

Becky and I are getting along well... She is the BEST roommate I've ever had!


And something I've been looking forward to: J.J.Moorebucks is coming up to visit NYC, and is going to be staying on our couch! I can't WAIT to see that guy! I am SO EXCITED! :-D

Anyhoo, I have a big day of Liquor promotions to do tomorrow, so I am going to go get my beauty sleep! :-) I hope to hear from everyone! I heart u! xoxo

At long last, Becky (my roommate) and I have officially had our first really big fight! In true form, we made it as big and dramatic as possible without any actual fists flying. It's actually a pretty funny story, so here's the run-down:

A few Saturdays ago, Becky and I went with my new friend Jennie and her promoter to a great club called Marquee where we got to hang out in the VIP room and drink and shake our money-makers 'til the morning's wee hours. Anyway, throughout the night, the promoter (who SAID his name is "Jo-ELL," but I'm pretty sure is just Joel) was pouring us glasses of Cristal and shots of Patron all night, getting us not only WASTED, but rowdy/black-out drunk as well. :-)

After waaaaaaay too many drinks and the second blunt being passed around, I kindof lost part of the night in a cloud of smoke, so this middle part is what Becky and I pieced together the next morning/afternoon.

Well, after a few hours of drinking and dancing the night away, I guess Becky had been getting pretty cozy with some model named Bernie (HA! ...Bernie :-P) and I was wasted and ready to go home, so I went to get her, and she did the whole chick thing (that we all do) where you linger for a while and say your goodbyes for a few minutes. Apparently, she took too long and drunk/rowdy Kristina got pissed and somehow acted/spoke in a way that sparked a fight once the two of us made it out on the street.

At this point, my memory starts coming back, and I remember the two of us screaming and shouting at each other across the street from the club while we started the 20-some block walk home. I'm not sure EXACTLY what was said, but several "F*%K YOU"s, a few "I DON'T F#$KING NEED THIS SH*+!"s, and some "GO AHEAD, JUST WALK AWAY"s were thrown out there, while we were mere inches from each other's faces, moments away from throwing punches.

So as passing cabs came to complete stops in mid-traffic and all occupants were glued to the windows watching the fight of the century, I somehow tripped on a curb and (as usual) managed to hurt myself. (SHOCKER) And eventually, the anger overtook our better judgement of sticking together once we've started drinking, and I stormed off around the corner, fully intending to pack up all of my belongings when I got back to our apartment and find a friend to stay with.

Halfway up the block, however, through my drunken stupor, I realized that I had NO IDEA of what I was pissed about, so I came to a dramatic halt and realized what a mistake I'd made. Around the corner, Becky came to the same realization, and in true Hollywood fashion, we both turned around and pranced at top speed back to the corner where we reunited in a dramatic embrace.

Laughing, skipping, and swerving, we made our way arm-in-arm all the way back to the apartment laughing and talking about how silly we are and how much we truly like each other as both people and roommates.

Thus ended the biggest fight I've been in since moving here to New York. :-) Silly, no?

The men in Manhattan are absolutely ridiculous!

You know the scenes from movies where construction workers shout catcalls at women passing by on the street? Well, I've worked a lot of construction for a lot of years, and the guys, though crass and vulgar in their guy-to-guy talk both in person and over the radio, never actually shouted anything at women in the vicinity. As a result, I figured that directors and scriptwriters were pretty much making all of those scenes and the lame "Yo bay-BEE!!! I got what you WANT!! I got what you NEED!!" lines up, either to take up screen time or as techniques to help drive the movie's plot.

Well, Manhattan has officially changed my mind.

Men in this city are DISGUSTING and completely shameless in the crap they feel is appropriate to shout, say, do, or even whisper to women passing on the street, eating in restaurants, hanging out in clubs, or riding on subway trains. It's somehow gotten to the point where a girl like myself can't walk a single block without being harassed in some way by at least one guy, and it's usually more like 3 catcalls per block. These guys even put T-Loc's to shame!!!

Here's a short list of some of the lines I've actually heard while minding my own business:


* "Nice Ass!"
*"You are so voluptuous!"
*"Wow!" with an open-mouthed stare at a woman's chest or hiney
* "If you look that sexy in the morning, I'd like to see you goin' to BED!"
* "OOOOOOH...eat that meat!" while eating a hotdog purchased from a sidewalk vendor
* "I see YOU, baby. (wink)" from a friendly NYPD officer
* "Suck it baby!" while eating a lollipop
* "Damn! I wish I were THAT tootsie-pop!"
* "You want some of this fudge-sicle? (groping gesture)"
* "OOH-WEE! You lookin' fine and smellin' nice this morning!"
* "YOU smell SO GOOD!"
* "Hello Beautiful."
* "Hello Sexy."
* "Hey, you like black guys?"
* "PSSSSST! PSSSSST!" (like he has a secret to tell)
* the classic whistle as you pass by
* "Hey!! Ice-Tea girl!!! Slow down!! I wanna talk to you!"
* "Lemme 'holla at choo'!"
* "Hey, you need a job? You look like a dancer." from the doorman at the strip-joint a block away
* I've even had a guy grab both of my arms, get right up in my face, and ask how much it would cost for him to take me home for the night! (yipes!!)

And SO many more! I feel like this list is far too short to give a fair presentation of what women in this city have to go through.

What's more, men don't even have to leave the comfort of their own homes to engage in this popular pass-time of heckling chicks. By simply leaning out a window or parking out on a fire-escape, they not only ensure easier access to beer and nachos, but also allow for a better view down the blouses of taller women.

At any rate, I've decided that I need to invest in some sort of self-defense gizmo. I think one of those tazer-guns that allow you to shock and incapacitate someone else from a distance of 5 feet would be fun! Then I could actually try to teach these guys a lesson, because shouting back, rolling my eyes, and staring them down with my best bitch face doesn't seem to do any good. If anything, these guys actually like these responses, because at least then I'm paying attention to them and they can try to "spit their game" once they're sure I'm listening. What I wouldn't give to be able to shock the living daylights out of the REALLY inappropriate guys...leave them and their dirty mouths twitching uncontrollably on the sidewalk... :-) But then I figure that after taking the time to shoot them, I'd have to waste more of my life removing those little hooks from their torsos, and it's just so much easier to just ignore them and listen to my MP3 player.

So, ya, I guess men (especially those in NYC) really ARE as sleazy as they appear in the movies....go figure.

This week's random celebrity sighting:

So last Sunday, Becky and I were taking refuge from a torrential downpour in a random cafe on 5th Ave, I was doing a crossword, Becky was reading her book, yadda yadda yadda, when I looked up and saw some guy eyeballing a slice of coconut creme pie. Suddenly, I recognized his face from several movies, but I couldn't for the life of me remember a single one. I pointed him out to Becky, and she had no idea who he was. Of course, as we were only 3 feet away from him, he saw me staring, and he gave me a look of "Can I help you?" So I, in the least cool way possible, asked him "Aren't you an actor?" He said that he was, and when I asked him his name, he simply responded that it's Matthew. That didn't ring any bells, so I tried to make conversation with some lame comment about the weather, like, "It sure is coming down out there, huh?" or something geeky like that and he went upstairs to enjoy his coffee and wait out the storm.

Well, after a few minutes, my curiosity got the best of me and I went to go sit upstairs and find out at least his last name so I wouldn't be spending the rest of the night trying to find him online. Before I'd taken 2 steps, however, there he was, buying that piece of pie he'd been checking out earlier. At this point, he joined Becky and me at our table and spent the next hour or so chatting it up with us.

I'm sure he felt REALLY cool, as neither Becky nor I could remember him in a single one of his films, despite the fact that he's been in over 50, including Full Metal Jacket, Cutthroat Island, and others. Had he not kept talking about his wife and 2 kids (who are about 20 themselves), I would've sworn that he was going to ask one or both of us out on a date, judging by the blatant up-and-down stares he kept giving the two of us. As it turned out, though, he turned out to be a nice guy and once the rain stopped we went our separate ways.

I thought that was a pretty random celebrity sighting, but it was still pretty cool. :-)

This is a picture of the actor Matthew Modine as a pirate in the movie Cutthroat Island.

I had some dance auditions this week, so I had to get my picture taken... I wanted to use this as my profile picture, but I can't figure that out, so anyway, here's my headshot. I didn't get the part, but at least I can put my pic on my blog now :-) If you know how to put it up in the corner for my profile picture, I'd appreciate any help. Thanks!