holla for a dolla

In my quest to make some money (and to help out a friend in a child-care pinch) I took care of his four year old twin girls from 8:30AM - 2:30PM.  I've done some babysitting back in the day, and while spending the day entertaining four year olds isn't really what I choose for my next career move, in the words of the (in)famous beauty queen Alana,

"A dolla make me holla, honey boo boo"

So I arrived at 8:30 and the dear little darlings were sweet as can be, and lucky for me looking forward to a new playmate.  And, oh, did we play.  Several board games, none of which were finished before we started the next.  Then they wanted to go to the park.  Well, I had passed a little park on the drive to their house that had seemed really close.  Close enough to walk.  This was important as mom had not left me any car seats and I didn't feel comfortable taking them in the car without.  So we set out.  What I thought was about halfway there, they started to complain about how far it was.  (Oh, did we take a stroller? No! The park was really close, remember?) We stopped in a little store for water bottles.  I gave them the opportunity to turn back, but no, they wanted to go to the park.  So we pressed onward.  As we were walking, I started to realize that maybe, just maybe the park wasn't as close as it had seemed when I was driving.  (duh!) Probably about 3/4 of a mile later, we arrive.  We play for about 20 minutes, and then they are hungry.  Did we bring snacks? *sigh* No.  So we head back...

Well, four year old little legs are very tired by this point.  So this idiot (me) has to piggy back them all the way back home, taking turns every so often so that each little munchkin's legs get a little rest. I am a sweaty mess by the time we get back to their house. Thankfully, they don't seem terribly worse for wear and definitely eat a good lunch.

After lunch, we go swimming, which also means piggy-back swims to the deep end, and generally climbing all over me in the pool.  The girls have a ball.  And, quite frankly, so do I.

2:30PM arrives, and my friend's wife comes home.  They are so tired one even has a little mini-breakdown.  Sorry mom, that's definitely my fault.  I head back home scratching all the plans to get stuff done and immediately pass out.  I sleep for about two hours.  Those girls exhausted me!!

Oh, and then my friend asks if I can fill in one more time next week... what do I say? "Sure!"

you want me to do WHAT?

Tonight I went to partake in another class at my stripper exotic dancer Goddess Fitness Dance groupon.  This class involved gyrating on a chair and then hump-twirling the pole.  After a warmup spin with the "butterfly," the teacher (not chubbs; the owner of the studio) broke down step by step how to go upside down on the pole.  Feet over hands.  Oh, and if you're advanced, let go with your hands while you're clutching the pole with your legs.  Here's what it was supposed to look like:

sexy

or even like this would've been great:

strong

but somehow I ended up looking more like this:

what the f*ck are you looking at

I don't think 30 days is even remotely enough time for me to become even the eensiest bit proficient at this thing.

Mister Poophead

that's Mister Poophead to you. 

There's so much to say and yet I'm speechless.  That's really what you chose as your username? And your profile picture makes you look like a cat-molester.  And the weight and snacks... are you trying to be witty? Maybe this isn't a real profile.  Someone making a joke, right? But why waste the time? It is so not funny!!!

And scariest of all... we are 77% matched.  Ahhhhh!!!!!

Ermahgerd

*giggle*

Oh, man-candy-site, you slay me.  A short, bald man stands in front of two porches (main profile pic/insecure about my small penis and compensating with muscle cars pic), second pic drinks coffee from a large mug that emphasizes his little mini-monkey hands, and then lounges in a "retro-chic" 60's style apartment again with the miniature hands, who then emails me this:

Hi, I am Ray, I read your profile. Most of my friends think that I should be a comedian, but unfortunately I never had any desire to be famous or a performer. So Would you like to have lunch may be you can use some of my materials. I am not looking for money or anything. I just like to get to know you and go from there (310) xxx-xxxx

Little do you know Ray that you have already given me so much comedic material without even meaning to! And no, I will not be giving you any sort of royalties or any other such monetary compensation, but *funny* that you would think your "material" would be worth anything.  Just for fun, let's see how you describe yourself:  

I am a highly respectable, charming man who enjoys going out and have a nice conversation over dinner and a glass of wine. I am looking for healthy, drama free relationship. I Think the most important aspect in a relationship is respecting one another and hopefully the rest will fall in to its palce. I am looking for an ambitious, sociable woman who knows what she wants. I am here to find the woman that i click with. Therefore, I am not her to waste time cause My time is extremely valuable to me as I am sure yours too.By the way. I read the profiles throughly. It seems that most of ladies in here are just wanna eat. What happened is there is a food shortage in Los Angeles. lol.

Apparently, you read profiles "throughly" but haven't spent much time on your own.  Spell check much? Grammar? Punctuation?? "Therefore" (Bahahahahaha) "I am not her to waste time cause My time..." oh and I guess he includes some of his comedy material, "What happened is there a food shortage in Los Angeles." wow.  I am blown away by your hilarty.  Oh and really, all women want is food? But you like to have dinner and wine and then ask me to lunch.  Pot/kettle much? 

You should message me if:  

you are respectable and classy.

Find me one woman who doesn't think they are respectable and classy.  Even if in reality they aren't.  OK, so maybe there's one who knows she is dis-respectable and trashy. So find me two women.  Try.  You can't.   

a wee rant

out of alllll the guys on the man-candy-site there have been three that I've been even remotely excited about.  The first broke my heart.  (well, bent it out of shape anyway) The next two have teased me with some emails and then *poof* disappeared!!! WTF. Didn't ask for my number, didn't write back after 3-4 emails, and believe me I've checked and they are still online.

I am READY for you Mr. Right, do you hear me??? I want to come home and watch movies on the couch and read in bed and snuggle and eat sushi and laugh and talk into the wee hours and go to yoga and go for a walk and order chinese and go to the beach and have breakfast at Aroma and visit your parents and catch a show in New York and experience Australia together and pretty much FUCKING COMPLETE EACH OTHER. uhmmmkayyyy?????

not a "quitter"

Every time I try to leave the damn weekday job something comes up!

I had an issue with my check and so I figure, I should really get my dollarz figured out before I leave.  It is infinitely more difficult to get payment issues fixed if you don't work there anymore.  Well, it took all day for them to figure out that they paid Ted Kelly, not Joanna Kelly.  Because the names are soooo similar. Idiots.

Anyway, just as all of that got straightened out, my boss leaves for the day.  Naturally. So I have to wait another day.  The next day my boss is busy all day so I figure I'll just work while I wait for an appropriate time to chat and let him know that I'm gonna bounce. Buuuut then I make a sale (ie money) and I start to think, maybe I'll finally start to make some good money now! Gahhhhhh

Anyway, I've now decided to stay one more week.  Which is exactly what happened last week.  What the hell does this place do that makes you get sucked in one week at a time? Is this some kind of vortex?

like Dr. Who

 or Bill and Ted

I halfway expect Scott Bakula to show up.

Quantum Leap!

And hey, if Scott Bakula could show up, maybe there's a chance I could meet Bill Cosby. Bucket list, y'all.

a newfound respect for strippers

For my birthday last month my dear friend bought me a groupon for Goddess Fitness Dance, a place where you can shake your chakras for a workout.  I had been procrastinating going, because to be honest, it isn't really my cup of tea (or so I thought). I don't go to the gym, I don't do dance classes, I hate running; I am a yogi who occasionally does pilates.

With trepidation, I decided to start with something called "Pole-Candy Camp" aka "Pole Conditioning" mostly because it is at a convenient time.  I arrive and sign in with a rather hefty girl working the front desk, and there are a few other ordinary looking ladies of varying sizes waiting in the lobby.  I look around and see a little bit of retail: tutu's, bedazzled tanks, booty shorts, ensconced in drapes of red material that line all the walls.  I can hear a class going on as I sign a waiver the length of my arm, and feel nerves of butterflies skitter through my insides. I was expecting something like this inside the room:

The last class exits and we enter through the red curtains into a large dimly lit room with stripper poles every few feet.  I see others putting down yoga mats, so I do the same and sit and wait for what I can only imagine.  The teacher comes in, and boy is she not what I expected! She is a chubbette if I ever saw one.  She is short, chunky, and wearing what appear to be underwear and a wife beater.  Her arms are sausages and her thighs are heavily dimpled.  This is our pole teacher? Ha! Ok, I got this.  If this little butterball can fling herself around a pole, this is going to be a cake-walk for me.  I am by no means ripped, but I've been very active my whole life and exercise regularly.

you get the idea... 

We start with the "warmups," and by the end of warmups I'm questioning what I'm doing here... I'm already huffing and puffing and sweating profusely. Then we line up in two lines to do pole work.  The teacher, whose voice sounds like a mix between the teacher from Charlie Brown and a hyena, instructs is to do the "peter pan."

flail around pole while bending your legs behind you

Chubs demonstrated, and I thought "easy peasy." Uhmmm, notsomuch.  I look like a bug caught in a bug zapper. Then we added on and did the tinkerbell and captain hook.  Finally, the butterfly: hike yourself up to the top of a pole (like climbing a tree when you were a kid but without bark for handholds and with adult bodyfat) and then twirl around with your hands and feet around the pole, knees out like butterfly wings.

something like this

Our teacher, Chubbs McGee, makes this look easy.  It is not.  First attempt landed me mostly kersplat on the ground.  Take two, no splat! Take three, cranged the top of my foot against the pole... that's going to bruise deeply.  Finally by the end of class, my arms are screaming, my abs are complaining, my legs are even slightly cranky and there are several bruises already forming.

The next morning I am so sore I can barely move.  I feel like I've been run over by a mack truck.  I audibly whimper trying to pull up my pants when I am getting dressed for the day.  I arrive to work and can barely pull open the door to my office.  Ow Ow Ow OWWWWWWW.  Where did these sore muscles come from? I feel certain I didn't even know I had these muscles... and yet here they are, screaming at me.

All I can think is... when can I go again?

everything you SHOULDN'T do to score big with the ladies

a real actual email I received on the man-candy-site. you can't make this shit up. 

you're a "normal person" and "educated." somehow I find this hard to believe.


allow me to address some of his questions:
"are you single?" uhmmmm, well, I am on a dating site, and my profile says I am single, so... yes.
"where are you from" again, pretty clear on my profile that I'm from Texas but have lived in NYC and am now in LA
"what are your interests?"well, again, I am going to direct you to my profile, where I list what I am all about and like to do.
"so you looking to settle down?" on my profile, which you clearly have not read, it states that I am looking for someone to spend my life with.  idiot.

listen bucko, you're 41, have no skills whatsoever, are hideously unattractive, think text messaging is a good way to get to know someone, and use patronizing terms like "sweetie."  you're going to have to do better than cut and paste. 

username: man4lady4me (huh? you want a man for a lady for you? this is supposed to appeal to a woman somehow?)
summary of his profile: each section is cut and pasted from the last section, with no further improvements in spelling or grammar. literally, each section is exactly the same as the last, even though the question is different and not at all answered in his cut and pasted essay.
personality conveyed on his profile page: highly bitter, rudely demanding, with his "likes" including swimming, jet skiing, shopping, theme parks, and cuddling.  random much?

fairly sure if I would have replied to his email he would have told me he just "won the lottery" in some foreign land but needed help to get the money, namely my bank account information.

hello, real man? boyfriend? I'm ready for you now please.

living the dream

One day quite soon I will wake up in the morning, drive to set, and spend the day truly "living the dream" as the lead of a hit TV Series.

Or, as my Aunt says, Plan A was to win the lottery.  It isn't working out so well, so we're doing Plan B: get a job, pay the mortgage, ...

Well, Plan A (see: my TV Series above) is still in the works, so for now, I work Plan B: get a job, pay the mortgage, and try like hell to get acting work.

One day last week I get a call from Central Casting asking if I want to work on a hit TV show, and that I have been "picture-picked" by production.  What this means is out of all the tens of thousands of people in Central's databanks, they chose me.  Hmmm, normally I don't do background work, but maybe I'll be the only extra on set and be treated like an actor? That's happened before.  Maybe I'll even get upgraded to principle and have lines! That's happened too!!! Maybe I could even become recurring on multiple episodes!!! It hasn't happened to me, but I've seen it happen.  OMG this is going to be HUGE! My BIG BREAK!! YES of COURSE I will work background /slash/ principle /slash/ recurring!

I arrive on set Tuesday and to my dismay, there are about 10 other people there who were also "picture-picked." ...That's ok, they could still like me best, and give me a line.  Hair and makeup give us the once-over and the hair guy asks if I can tie my hair back halfway.  Sure, no prob.  He gives me a thick ponytail holder meant for a whole head of hair.  uhhh... I don't have a mirror... He swiftly ganks some of my hair back and presto, I look like a lumpy frumpy maybe slightly balding woman.  My dreams of getting picked to be upgraded are fading quickly.

my hair was kinda like this but NOT AS CUTE. 

Luckily I had time to go to the bathroom before shooting and fix it as best as I could.  So my beautifully blown out hair is now kinda janky looking, but better than when Mr Hair put his grubby hands on it. We all are escorted to set and told to stand here or there.  Would you believe I am stuck so far back in the background that I might as well be anyone??? Why did they even bother picture-picking us? You can't even see any of the "picture-picked" BG with any sort of clarity.  Stupid stupid stupid.  The only silver lining: we were only there for three hours and paid for a whole day.  Ahh Hollywood, you little minx.  You tease me with the hope of a little "break" and yank it away just as my fingers graze the fringe.

bang bang noggin

I think I am going to quit all my jobs.

My weekend job is fun at times but mostly sucks.  My weekday job's learning curve is so steep I'm getting motion sickness and vertigo and not making any kind of decent money.  Continuing to work in jobs where you are miserable and don't make money is STUPID and COMPLETELY IDIOTIC!

Seriously folks, I'm starting to get a dent in my head from all the useless banging.  And don't get me started on the wall!

poor wall

A wise person once said, "look both ways before crossing the street." Lemme tell ya, I've looked both ways and there is no money train a-comin.

 So I'm getting the heck outta dodge and going to find something truly amazing where I get to help people, earn great money, have a flexible schedule, and not end up with bits of brick and plaster stuck in my hair on a daily basis.

Oh, and I'm still wondering if anyone knows Bill Cosby? Bucket list, y'all.