Bartending = Crack

There is no other way to describe it- but sometimes, bartending is like crack. Though I will put out there on the record that I have never done crack, I just took D.A.R.E. and am aware of its characteristics! With that said, it is crazy how good holding cash in your hands can be! The kind of money that you can make sometimes is so addicting that there is no wonder why some people never leave the restaurant business. Which is yet another way that bartending is like crack- only crazy fuckers do it and don't think that it's killing them!

You can say as often as you'd like the following phrases, but it's always the same, you go back again and again for more:

*"It's only for now."

*"I know I need to make a change, but . . ."

*"I can quit at any time!"

*"It'll be ok, because I know I'm better than this!"

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah! These things are all well and good until you are holding this month's rent in your hand after one shift!



So what's the solution? Where's the rehab? I mean, most bartenders are alcoholics anyways (I'm not, though my mother may think I am teetering towards the edge), and we know there's a rehab for that. But how do you get rid of this high that you get when walking away from a long days work with mucho dinero in your hand? There are definitely the crack withdrawals in bartending- slow, no money days; stupid foreigners and bad managers; yet even when things are at their worst we hold out for that high! Ultimately, I think I'll have to hold out until I'm given the opportunity for performance high. I just hope I don't overdo on one before I have the chance for the other!

My 'Miss. America' Encounter

Empire State of Mind is my new favorite song. Not only because it's Jay-Z and Alicia (whom I love), but it's the message of hope, perseverance and the possibility of success and happiness in MY city. It's easy to forget you live in NYC when you are trapped behind a bar for 13 hours. The American Dream! RIIIIIGHT! My dad taught me how to properly pour a beer when I was 5, though I’m sure he'd prefer I actually used the degree in dance that he paid thousands of dollars for. But beggars can't be choosers!




I am officially dubbing Monday, December 28th as Black Monday. Who knew the Monday after Christmas would be the busiest day of the year? Not me, that's for sure. From start to finish we were slammed. I showed up showered, with freshly dyed black hair, a positive attitude and ready to go! I hate Monday doubles, but it was worth it to be able to go home for the Holidays. This fabulousness lasted all of 5 minutes, then the hair was up, the pens were shoved in their proper place and I was covered in orange soda. There was no way to handle the amount of people and drinks by myself. There were three people deep at the bar and tickets were spewing out of the machine at the service bar. I was the Tasmanian Devil. There was NO socializing, no small talk. My goal was to make drinks and make it out alive.

I know for a fact my personality went to shit! I was just trying to get by. Of course this whole time I was cursing my life. I was mentally screaming: "I can't believe I'm a bartender- I'm a dancer. I can't believe I have to wait on these idiots- I should be drinking Cosmos down the street with my girls." But apparently the Gods of NYC thinks they're funny, and at this exact moment of mental warfare who did they send into my bar? None other than Miss. Freaking America! Ok, no, not the real Miss. America, but the Miss. America of PPU.



I wouldn't go to the lengths of calling her my arch nemesis or even my worst enemy, but the fact is, I didn't like her. When we were in school she thought she was the shit. She was better than everyone, but in true pageant form these words would never come out of her mouth. She had this way of oozing superiority and smugness out of her fake smile and over "Maybelline-d" face. So now, she's standing in MY bar so she was holding the upper hand. But not only was she standing in MY bar, but I was definitely NOT in my best light (literally-overhead lighting-yuck). So to emphasize this once again, she was in MY bar and I had to wait on her entitled ass. Well, I would have waited on her if I didn't legit run to the other side of the bar after we exchanged 'pleasantries'.



HA-I showed her! Well, not really. If I've learned anything in the last 3.5 years of living in NYC it's 'fake it till you make it'. Well, it's a little difficult to do that when you are caught in the thick of it. My day to day life is uber exciting to people who have no concept of the actual difficulties of living as an artist in Manhattan, but she knows. And to top it all off, she is performing more than I am (most of it is Bumblefuck stuff that I don't even audition for), but in her mind she's better, she's more successful and was going to be getting drinks from me.  Except like I said, I ran away!



Boo, I say to you Gods of Manhattan. BOO!

Up in the Air

I’m thousands of miles above the ground and all I can think of is that I wish I bought mints before getting on the plane. Yes, I like to partake in fresh breath and oral hygiene. But what I’d really like to do is slip one in the mouth of the passenger sitting next to me. I know how incredibly ignorant and racist this may sound, but why do certain nationalities have ABSOLUTEZLY HORRIBLE BREATH?  And yes, this is coming from my experience will all of three people with this background, but each of them could have used an unlimited subscription to Altoids.

I’m one to talk though. I’m not exactly the spokes model for fresh and clean right now with my ridiculously unwashed hair and non shaved legs. I’m not sure when I decided that throwing baby powder in my hair and some Victoria’s Secret splash was washing my hair and body, but I’d like to go back to that time and kick my ass! Lately this has become the norm for me. I’m not a lazy person, and I definitely wash my body after exercising (wait, what’s that?), but it’s just not practical sometimes! Why would I wash my body of the simple syrup, beer and Buffalo sauce when I work 40 hours between four days? That’s just silly! Though, today I fully intended on showering and washing my hair, I just so happened to wake up two hours late! Stupid vibrate mode on my phone. I legit heard something vibrating, yet my response was “why is my roommate’s phone in here?” Is that not absolutely ridiculous? I blame my roommate for waking me up, yet I didn’t search out to find where the phone was (next to my bed) and return it to her. It was MY phone, with MY alarm going off, that was supposed to wake MY ass up so I could finish packing and then get to work.

Though I’m not surprised that I overslept. A part of me knew I was heading in the direction of self sabotage when I went to bed at two am and figured it would just be easier to get up at 7am to finish packing instead of just doing it then. This has become a pattern when I travel, it doesn’t matter if my flight is at 6 o’clock in the morning, or 6 pm at night, I always, with out fail, miss my alarm sending my heart racing and my mind running at a ridiculous pace calculating all the ways I fucked up the stream of events for my trip and how I am now bound to miss my flight.

I haven’t seen the new George Clooney movie yet, but I’m intrigued to see how someone responds to flying literally ALL the time. I make myself nacious for the entire day until I am on the ground at my destination. There is always so much to factor in when traveling, especially when you are flying in and out of Manhattan.

*First there is the financial factor. Do I spend the $20-45 and take a cab to get to the airport? Sometimes yes! Too much to carry, or not enough time. This can be a fine option if you need it, but not when traveling to Newark. I love my father for booking me a direct flight to Texas, but there is added stress when flying out of Newark. *So now, there is factoring in the trains. There is the subway to get you to Penn Station (hopefully everything is running on time), then there is the getting of the ticket and finding the right track to get your train at. I always look up the train times before I get to Penn Station and search on those little screens for the time, not the destination first. Usually JFK and EWR are listed on the screens, but they are not the final destination for the train, so I always get confused, and therefore have heart palpitations that I will get on the wrong train, or get off at the wrong stop. You have to leave plenty of time for the LIRR and the NJ Transit. Usually it’s about 40 minutes to get from Penn to the Airport, but you never know, especially when you then have to factor in the AirTran. As stressful as this can be, it’s worth the $8-15 it costs one way…I’m cheap and poor, and Daddy ain’t paying for everything.

The best thing I did though was plan on only carrying on my luggage. Luggage fees are astronomical, not to mention this time of year leaves a lot to be imagined when checking luggage. Who knows who's going through your bags and what little things they may be needing for their own Christmas shopping? When I went to Cabo with my family in June, our flights were canceled, yet our bags still ended up in Mexico.  when we got there we were so excited to see our bags were at the airport we didn't even think about the fact that they had been sitting unattended for 48hours.  Needless to say, when unpacking our things at the resort we were missing everything from Q-tips, to flat irons, to shoes and new clothes.  So I have since learned my lesson when traveling at peek times of the year, and always factor in the destination.  Not to mention, waiting in line to get to the check-in counter is a pain in the ass and I much prefer the kiosk screens and self-printing tickets!

When all is said and done, I know it’s not worth stressing over. But when it comes to going home, or on vacation, my time is important and I can’t afford to miss a flight, or pay hundreds of dollars on transportation and fees. I’d far rather spend that money on shoes! So, for the next 2hours and 45minutes I will continue to educate myself on the Raw food Detox Diet, while holding my breath and looking out the window in avoidance of my neighbor to the right of me!

(P.S. Did you know that some fligths still serve meals?  I couldn't believe it.  They were handing out trays of hot sandwiches and I assumed they were for purchase.  NOPE.  She offered one to me, and of course I was starved, but couldn't eat it- BBQ Turkey on white, will watered down salad and a Twix bar, but still I was amazed.  It worked out anyways, they gave me my little wine bottle for free!  I would much rather drink on my flight than eat anyways!)

The picture op top is of me sleeping at the Airport in the way to Cabo, my sister though I needed a mint!

... and the City

As I walked down the cobblestone streets of the Meatpacking District in my 5 inch heels, with my three best ladies I realized how fabulous and Sex and the City like my life actually is. Unfortunately, the only thing missing from our City lives is the... SEX! No, my girls and I are not virginal by any means, but the endless list of men that parade in and out of the bedrooms of our on screen alias' is NON existent!




I can understand why the show is such a huge part of women's lives. I've been watching the DVDs in sequential order and find that I can relate or apply some of the 'lessons' if you will to my every day life.  Any group of four friends, that likes shoes and brunch, men and cosmos will match their personalities to the lovely and extreme ladies of SATC.  We try to copy the clothes, the hair, the lifestyles... yet the one thing we can't seem to replicate is the sex part. It is NOT easy to find a man to even make-out with in this city. They are either creepy or M.I.A. when mingling at the local watering holes.

Every time we go out we wind up in female dominated hotspots where the men are either taken, or gay! This was until we found our new favorite trendy bar in Meatpacking. When arriving in our high high heels, cute dresses and bags of goodies we pushed our way to the host stand through a through a heap of MEN! So this was where they were hiding all the men on the island! Not only were they men (as in not small children), they were cute (as in HOT), they were intelligent (as in self-sufficient), and successful (as in financially stable).  And most importantly, they were single, as in no wedding ring hiding in the jacket pocket!  No nanny's to get home to relieve, no wife in the Hamptons.  These were eligible and attractive men! They were flirtatious with an edge of forwardness, who made smooth conversation starters.  They told us we were beautiful, and I actually believed it (I'm quite jaded). Yet none of us left with one of these openly available men!

WHY? The facts: we are four very good looking girls, we are smart and witty, we know how to hold up our end of a conversation and our liquor.  We are classy, yet flirtatious.  Forward but not pushy.  Confident but not arrogant.  With all this, what does it take to get the guy you want to take your number to...take your number? Why is it always that the guy you humor with conversation just to get him away more quickly is the one that seeks you out and harasses you for your number? Why is it when you finally decide to be bold and make a move the cute, flirtatious shy guy legit turns you down? This would not happen to Carrie or Samantha. Their night would have ended up in bed with said man, or at least with an exchange of the digits. And worst of all, they wouldn't have needed to initiate the exchange, and they wouldn't have been turned down! When do the circumstances of my life work out like theirs?



Where have all the good men gone? I live in New York City.  This is a thriving Metropolis.  There are millions of single men living withon a few hundred blocks.  So why is it that all the good ones are either taken, gay or uninterested?  I refuse to believe that there is not one single man out there that not only lives up to my standards but is also attracted to me!  I'm tired of sitting home on a Friday night wondering when I will be sitting with a man instead of my roommate (not that she's not fabulous). But at the same time, I'm tired of trying and being turned down. I'm tired of putting in the effort, making the move and having it being thrown back in my face. And I swear to God, if I hear that I'm just too intimidating, or too beautiful one more time... I will throw up this person who refuses to come up with a better lame ass lie!  Hilary Clinton is succsessful and some might say intimidating yet she's married (to a cheat, but still).  Heidi Klum is not only stunningly beautiful, but is savvy and successful and she has Seal.  So why is there no man out there that will follow through in simple tasks such as asking for my number or taking me to dinner?  Where is my man?  I'm hoping he's at my new favorite restaurant, because with the overwhelming man to woman ratio we saw last night, we are going back every Thursday!

Enough With The Arms!

I love this time of year! Not just because of Christmas, Hanukah and Kwanza. And no, I'm not anticipating a new year’s kiss. I love the TV and magazine specials that come with the end of the year rituals. Come on, who doesn't love seeing Johnny Depp on the cover of PEOPLE? I knew he was sexy, but isn't it fun seeing him being deemed 'Sexiest Man Alive'? I eat it up! I love the countdowns. The best and worst dressed lists of the year. The recaps of celeb faux pas! I even love the Barbara Walters special. I don't love her, but I usually love the people she titles the 'Most Fascinating of the Year'.



The special this year left me irritated to say the least. Lady Gaga, Adam Lambert-cultural phenomenons. Sarah Palin, Kate Gosselin- Hot Messes, but news worthy. There were others obviously but the one that pissed me off was #1. Yes, Michelle Obama is fascinating. She's the First Lady of the United States. She sleeps next to the most powerful man in the world. That's incredibly fascinating. But to introduce her by saying her arms are the most fascinating part about her is trivial and insulting. If I was Michelle Obama I would have drop kicked Barbara's ass. We all need to move on to a new hot topic. Yes, she is beautiful. Yes, she has a great body. Yes, her arms are jacked. But did we forget that she graduated from Harvard Law School? And who cares that she is an advocate for women's rights, and promotes the organic/green movement when she inadvertently became the spokes model for J. Crew and Gap? Maybe if we as a society took a break from McDonalds and Cold Stone and ate an apple we'd finally have those Obama Arms! Just because it's says apple in apple pie, does NOT mean it's good for you!



It just pissed me off that Barbara Walters; a top journalist fell into the tricks of the jaded celebrity headlines and announced that Michelle Obama’s arms were probably more fascinating than she was! BOO Babawa Wawas, BOO! I love you Mama Obama, and not just because you would kick my ass in a street fight!

A League of My Own

If you have ever seen the movie a League of their Own, you can join me in rejoicing to the heavens that it is one of the best movies ever. I would clutch onto my VHS copy and bring it with me to any place that had a room with a VCR. My sister and I would go with my dad to his office on the weekends and he'd put us in the conference room with the projection screen so we could watch it like we were at the movie theatre. Of course when you are a kid you miss the little things. I mean Tom Hanks was grabbing his crotch, drinking out of a flask and making lewd comments, yet all that seemed to stick were things like 'There's no crying in baseball.' The things that stand out to you as a kid are not the same things that you take away from a movie as an adult. It' like a whole new movie to me now. It's an even better movie to me now!

I remember loving it as kid because I loved to play softball, and I loved to play dress up...so seeing women play my favorite sport in dresses was the best! Now I love it because it reminds you of the importance of friends, and family. Kit and Dottie’s relationship reminds me of mine and my sister Allison’s. She’s never thrown a baseball at my head, we have had our fair share of pillow fights, launched phones and face against a wall moments. I don't think Allison would ever blame me for the some of the difficulties in her life, but I'm sure it's not easy to be in the shadows of an older sister doing the same thing as you. Allison is not lacking in any sort of talent, but she's just walking down a road that I have already started to pave. I know if it were me, I’d rather have the gravel at my feet and the openness to choose the path. Of course I encourage her to do this, but there are always going to be people with biased and ignorant opinions commenting on her life via what I’ve done with mine. It can't be easy...but at the same time, she throws things at me, so my sympathy only goes so far!



I love the emphasis on friends in the movie as well. Since living in NYC I've learned how important it is to surround yourself with good, strong people. Though I believe friendships require work and attention, the best ones come out of nowhere! The people in my life right now, who I know would bail me out of jail, or water my plants in a hurricane, are the people whom I never expected to be so close to! Good friends are hard to find, so when you stop looking, they find you! It’s just up to you to not let them get away!

The last thing that I can take away from this movie now, is that there is always a time for a 'song and dance'! If you are good at something, shine. If you love something, work at it. There is no reason to sit on the sidelines when you can be in the game. And if you are gonna be in the spotlight, you better give 'em a damn good show!

Fatty McFat Fat!

I haven't been doing a very good job about writing frequently. I love to write, and I'm having a fabulous time with this blog, but everything I have to say lately seems a little superficial. And it's the Holidays, so I don't  want to be wasting people's prime internet time with 'I feel fat', 'there's a new chick at work and she's prettier than me', and 'I'm fat'. And as far as updates on my job go, it's the same old crap, just a different tourist day. Basically, you can change the accent and the hair color, but at the end of the day it's still the same old beers and the same shitty tips. Only difference now is that there are double these people in the same amount of time, so the shitty/no tips add up to help with my wad of cash at the end of the shift.

I’ve decided that in the New Year I'll have more energy for a new attitude. It's gonna be a new year, a new decade and a new me! I'm gonna get back to the gym (as opposed to making excuses like I've been doing the last month). I’m gonna try new things: trapeze, ballroom and cooking classes. I'm gonna get back into photography; I got the camera, now I just need the models. I'm gonna work towards healthier habits: better eating, less drinking! I'm just waiting for the year to come to an end so I can get this fresh start under way! I know I could start now, but I just don't feel like it! I do better with goals and time frames!



Something I have learned in this last month of what I like to call 'sloppy laziness' is how good it feels to get all gussied up! I went out last night with a good friend and he commented on how beautiful I looked. He's known me for half my life, and it never gets old hearing how nice you look, especially when you know he means it! So when I feel bad about sitting on my ass eating dark chocolate covered raisins, I remember how nice it feels when I put a little work into my appearance, so I put down the chocolate and grab the grapes!



So the moral of this blog: don't sweat the small stuff, set goals to keep you moving, everybody is a little fatty sometimes!

Tis the Season...to love New York!

If you actually keep track of my blogs you may remember that I've been a little 'under the weather'! Well, I guess I'm allowing excuses for myself to not do the things I know I should be doing. So during this time I have been catching up with some old friends: Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte from Sex and the City courtesy of the complete series on DVD. I just can't get enough of this show. I know...me and every other 18-60 year old woman in the country! I think that the show was so brilliant in capturing the true essence of New York City. The good, the bad and the fabulous are all on this show and it made me think of all the things I love and am grateful for that you can only get in New York.


I LOVE:

* The Holidays in New York- the tree, the lights, the giant crystal snowflake over Fifth Avenue. I love that for three weeks people say things like "Have a beautiful Christmas", "I wish you a happy holiday season", and if you work with Hispanic people "Feliz Navidad!".

* That it is totally acceptable to have mustard in your fridge and vodka in your freezer. And nothing else!

* People commend you for shopping at Fairway; getting everything you need, not killing an Upper Westside Jew, and not being killed by an Upper Westside Jew!

* You are totally forgiven for staying inside your apartment when it is raining, snowing or windy.

* Your best friends are your family.

* Westside market, Duane Reade, Tasti-D-Lite, Crumbs, H&M.

* Men in suits.

* Men in suits who pay for drinks.

* Riverside Park, especially the Boat Basin.

* Christmas Tree stands.

* Saying I live in New York City.

* Seeing the same people every day, never knowing their names, but missing them when you don't see them for a while!

* Having 32 different Chinese, Thai and Pizza options within 10 blocks!

* Running into celebrities on the streets.

* Walking onto filming sets!

* Impromptu Luncheons.

* Brunch!



I'm Grateful For:

* Starbucks on almost every corner.

* Bodegas on every corner and open 24 hours.

* Being able to buy a 40 of almost every kind of beer/mixed bottle drink.

* $10 manicures.

* Student Rush Tickets.

* The 24hr Apple store on Fifth Ave.

* The public access to the bathrooms at the Marriott Marquise.

* Drinking and NOT driving!

* A job that allows me to afford expensive dinners at 5 Star restaurants (every once in a while)!

* Friends who understand how fabulous yet challenging it can be to live in Manhattan!


I mean...who wouldn't want to live here!?  It's my city!  It's my home!  This is my reality!  This is my life!  I love it!

The Niche!

I don't know if these words will ever come out of my mouth (fingers) ever again, but Joy Behar had a totally enlightening statement on The View today. I don't watch the program often, mostly because Elisabeth irritates the shit out of me, but sometimes it proves to be entertaining and thought provoking.

One of today's Hot Topics was about Alec Baldwin and a statement he made about his career being a failure. Umm, ok Mr. Baldwin, the fact that we can say your name without having to say 'from blah blah blah' means you have done something notable. Aside from a long list of movies and SNL appearances, there's this little show known as 30 Rock. It's no big deal; he's only won 2 Emmy's, 2 Golden Globes and 2 SAG Awards for this role, as well as received dozens of other nominations including an Academy Award.



From what I can understand, Alec feels he has had a lack of success with his career because he has never had the ability to lead a film on his own accord and status. Ok, so he's no Brad Pitt. No one's denying this, but the fact that you can star alongside Meryl Streep means you must be doing something right! I, being someone trying to get into the business and find my own levels of success listen to this statement and immediately get pissed! How dare he look at his list of credits and undertakings and chalk it all up as failure. But I guess when looking at it deeper you see that even within success and fame, can be levels of failure. When you have been the supporting male, you want that chance to be a leading man. When you've played the supporting husband, father and boss you are waiting for the story to function around you! I get that, but what if it's just not for everybody? Is that a reason to throw in the towel, which he plans on doing when his 30 Rock contract is up.



Joy's comment to the situation was that "when you are a creative person, it's harder to find your niche". Suddenly it all clicked, though I say that while biting my tongue! If Alec Baldwin can look at his career with glaring eyes, feelings of frustration and an overwhelming sense of failure is he just blind or looking for more? This is a problem I find myself in quite often. I guess my calling myself a creative person is a little presumptuous, but I think I have moments. There are a lot of things that I think I am good at: dancing, teaching, choreographing, cooking, taking pictures, working out, maybe even singing and acting depending on who you ask. So I can relate with Mr. Baldwin when you feel like you are missing something and never quite reaching the level you aspire to be at...but who's to say this is the right venue in which you are meant to excel at?



I would love to know when it's the right time to hone in on a different strength, not saying to give up on the one you are currently running with, but to maybe attempt to multi-task! So good luck to you Alec Baldwin in your search for your niche, I'll be right next to you (in spirit)!

You are NOT Making this Easy!

I am trying, I really really am trying to not be jaded and negative this Holiday season. If you work in the service industry you are aware of this feeling of utter hatred for all things happy and all persons celebrating and acting as if it's the greatest time of the year. I mean, ok, it kind of is...but when you have to serve foreign, or drunken assholes, who don't tip and/or care that you are busting your ass so you can buy nice things for the Holidays, you want these people dead. I'm not saying I would kill them myself, but you kind of wish for evil things to happen to them.

I know! I'm a horrible person. I'm going to hell. I should watch what I say. My response: yes, of course and bite me! I'm not trying to be mean (which doesn't make it much better I guess), but when you run around trying to get people drinks, set them up for food, clean off your surroundings and help out your coworkers the last thing that is going to help the situation is a $2 tip, in quarters, on a $35 check. Not cool. Not cool. And while running around the last thing you want is your manager to watch you from the other side of the bar, not help you, and then say 'eh-he-he, it's kind of like running around the gym isn't it!?'. No, it's not. I enjoy running around the gym. I usually feel a sense of accomplishment after running around the gym, unlike while running around the restaurant for free...not enjoyable.

So to make this short:

*Don't be stupid
*Don't be overly demanding
*Be aware of how busy your server/bartender is and have sympathy
*Don't be stupid
*Don't eat out if you can't afford a proper tip
*Don't listen to Oprah
*Don't tip in change
*Don't justify being rude by overly smiling
*Don't be stupid

Black Friday

There is a little piece inside of each and every one of us that is CRAZY! I am no exception, in fact my piece is larger than most people's but I'm ok with that and have learned to embrace this quality that I posses! Well, let me just say that the CRAZIES were in full form on the morning/day known as Black Friday. I should really do the research and find out who coined the phrase, because one would think it would be Green Friday (green as in money spent, and money saved), but whoever coined the term BLACK needs a cookie! I am gonna guess that black is to represent the mass chaos, pandemonium and insanity that is the day after Thanksgiving in the United States. I wonder if other countries and cultures have an equivalent?  But if they don't I seriously recommend coming and observing this cultural phenomenon, it's more entertaining than the WWE and definitely not staged!




My girlfriend Jules and I got up at 4am (though we originally intended to be at Target by then), made our way to Timmy Hos (Tim Hortons, the ones in Manhattan are nothing like the ones in B-Lo), grabbed our coffee then headed off to the madness. We should have known by the fact that we were in a drive-thru line that was out into the street that the day was going to be crazy. My saying that makes it seem like I've never done Black Friday shopping before, I definitely have, but it's just been a while. While in the food line the clock turned 5am and at that moment we could see the cars that were across the street at Wal-Mart zipping out of the parking lot. This not only meant that people had been there insanely early, but that they were ridiculously fast in acquiring their stupid electronics and cheap plastic toys and were on to the next store.

We got to Target at about 5:15am.  The store had been opened for 15minutes and already there were people in line to check out. We thought our best bet would be to head to the electronics department to see what was left that we might want to get a good deal on. There wasn’t anything that we were dying to have, but a deal is a deal. I mean $8 for a season of Friends, or Sex and the City or House! Screw holiday shopping, I was stocking up my collection. Thankfully the DVDs had large stocks, which is not the same for the flat screen televisions, digital cameras and blue ray players. The crowd around the electronics counter was so huge that people were jumping up and down on each other from 15 feet back. It got to the point where electronics were literally being thrown into the air and being snatched and fought over by multiple hands. It reminded me of the scene in Jingle All the Way with Arnold Schwarzenegger where everyone is fighting over a damn doll! This was just the beginning of the comic and entertaining morning I was going to partake in!

Quickly we realized that the only way we were going to survive this store and the crazy masses would be to jump into line and take turns shopping while the other held our spot. Once we found the end of the line, which only took about 5 whole minutes and multiple treks up and down the aisles, we were in a standstill for twenty-five minutes. I took this as a prime opportunity to people watch. There were the young adults who were stocking up on gifts for the family, single mothers with carts full of toys, trashy Cheektowagans with an assortment of 'trendy' clothes and cheap electronics, old ladies with massage chairs and Williamsville Jews with rolls of Hanukkah wrapping paper.



I couldn't help but laugh out loud while on the phone with my mother (who was getting ready to work at Bath and Body works in Texas at 6am her time) at this woman who was bitching on the phone about how she just spent the last twenty minutes in a line to nowhere! Literally the line she was in went in a full circle before anyone realized that it wasn't a line! AMAZING!  She was talking so loudly it was as if she thought one of the 700 people in the check-out line was going to have sympathy for her and let her cut! FAT CHANCE! She then continued to say that she absolutely hated Target and was never going to shop there ever again. Really?! Seriously?! Don’t lie, you and I both know that you will be back tomorrow, and two times next week. I just think it's hysterical that when people are pissed off that they got screwed that they go to the extremes! If you were really that upset and thought that you had been wronged by the Target establishment you would have left your cart full of items and gone to your next destination...though it's not like it would have made a difference to the store, they were making probably a million dollars in two hours!



After our two hour line shopping experience, we checked out a few other stores, but by that point none were as crazy and packed as Target. I'm pretty sure that they were packed for the 48 straight hours that the sale was going on! But its Target, so as annoying as it all may be let's not forget that it's an amazing store, one that I miss daily!

Why You Gotta Steal My Shit??

If you remember from some of my earlier posts, I have a fabulous new apartment in NYC! This place is a HUGE, and I mean HUGE, step up from my last apartment. It's on the upper west side, on a generally quite street, cute neighborhood, right by Riverside, Morningside and Central Parks. The building itself is pre-war, elevator, twelve floors, kept up rather well, hardwood floors, high ceilings, big windows and quiet neighbors. I haven’t really made friends with people in my building, but we have definitely been cordial with everyone we have ridden the elevator with or walked in the front door with, except for the lady that purposefully shut the door on my face at 7:30 in the morning, on my first full day in the apartment. I was wheeling in two huge suitcases, a laundry bag and a bag of groceries, but because I tried to follow her in instead of getting out my keys and pretend like I was capable of doing so at that moment, she shut the door on my face and said "I don't know that you live here!!" I'm all about safety lady, but who the hell is gonna try to move in to the foyer of your building while pulling two VERY large PINK suitcases and a bright purple lululemon bag? O and by the way, your kid isn't cute, and it's NOT acceptable that you are wiping his runny nose with your bare hands!




I know that there is definitely an age range of people in the building. Like I just mentioned, a lady with a kid, there's an older married couple, a cute old gay guy, an older woman that you can tell was quite the hottie in her youth, but probably has 3 cats now and a handful of Colombia students. The question is...why on earth would they steal my package? The rent is enough in that building that we should feel like good people who take pride in their residencies would live there. I've never seen any sign of disrespect from anyone in the building to anyone else in the building. And I certainly haven't been there long enough to really piss anyone off! So why would my package have gone missing?



Saturday I was at work until early evening, came home, checked the mail in the mailbox, went to get on the elevator and saw a brown package from USPS sitting on the table, but wasn't expecting anything so I didn't bother to check the name. I came down about 2 hours later and was in a hurry to get to the train, but thought I should check the names on the package that was still sitting there and it was for me! I was running late but thought, 'oh, I’ll grab it when I come back!' Well, I came back about 4 hours later (now it's about 12:30am) and the table was empty. Not only was my package not there but the papers, magazines and other unclaimed mail were gone as well. I just assumed that my super cleaned up the garbage and that my package would be outside my door. It wasn't. The next day I worked all day but I figured that once Monday rolled around and since it would be regular mail hours that he would put it back out on the table.

After coming home again from work today my fabulous little package which is from my mom, wasn't on the table and it wasn’t upstairs by my door. In a little bit of a panic I called my super, he not only said he didn't have it but was so fricken rude, and I mean Russian rude. He was condescending and said 'someone must have took it'. NO SHIT! He tried to clarify that he meant the Post Office must have taken it back since it had been unclaimed. Yeah! Right! The post office wanders around the upper west side apartments at 10pm on a Saturday night to take back any packages that might have been sitting inside of a double door locked apartment building! BULL!

So now I'm pissed, and I'm sad, because someone has my package and that person is not me. It's a crime to take someone's mail, though you can never really prove this and people rarely get caught! I just want my damn package, which did I mention is from my mom? My amazing mother that still sends me shit even though I've moved out of the house! I hate you sir who has stolen my polar bear candle! It doesn’t matter that it's super cheesy, it's mine and I want it back! So give it up!

Mint Chocolate Chip

I remember being a junior in High School and having the assignment in English class to write for ten minutes non stop about whatever came to mind. It's funny to think of now but that was always such a difficult assignment. You were simply supposed to write about whatever thoughts came to your mind at that moment in time, but yet I always felt like I was devoid of thoughts once the pencil was in hand. Now I don't know if it's that writing on a laptop is easier than my ball point pen, or if it's just that I have more things on my mind now. There are times when I'm not incredibly motivated to write, but at the same time, I'm never short on thoughts, or things to say.

My poor friends, I absolutely love them, but they deserve a medal (or at least a life time supply of free drinks) for all they have to deal with with me! I never was the person to fully admit in High School that I was slightly self-centered, or that I had a bitchy-ness to me. Now, I love it! It can be a make or break quality when it comes to making friends, but I think it helps eliminate some of the bullshit from my life! I'm sure I will never be fully free of the ridiculous drama that exists in life, but that also comes from the fact that I am a Leo and I crave the spotlight and attention. This is yet another fact that I was never fully comfortable saying out loud.

Have I ever mentioned that I was Senior Class President? Yes, yes I was. The class of 2003 at Clarence High School, I was Senior Class President. I did a damn good job too. I'm slightly OCD, so I have this compulsive need to be in charge, and what better way than to be President. I don't always have the ideas, or the solution, but I do like having the power to decide what the final course of action is going to be! I wish there was a class President in NYC! I think it would give me a better sense of control in an uncontrollable city. Now I'm not saying that NYC is like Las Vegas, yet at the same time it is very uncontrollable. Usually in the form of alcohol consumption or one night stands (not unlike Vegas) yet in NYC, we don't do things under an alias name. Though, the next morning, we wish we had,



Have you ever seen the movie Man of the House? The one with Tommy Lee where he protects a bunch of cheerleaders, not the one with Jonathan Taylor Thomas (aka JTT) and Chevy Chase circa mid nineties. At least I think they have the same name. Well, the prior is on FX right now, but now that I think of it, I might have preferred to watch the later. I love that Chevy Chase tries to become a father figure in JTT's life, yet JTT tries to sabotage the relationship between his mom and this new boyfriend. I mean, I'll never forget the fight scene where the good guys are all dressed like Indians because that's their troupe theme! Classic movie. Kind of like the Saved by the Bell, Hawaiian Paradise episode. This too is also related to my Senior Class president Days. I wrote about SBTB in my speech and how much I loved it! I still do, so much so that I watched it the other morning while getting ready for work. There is no real reason to love these movies, except for the sense of nostalgia that they provide. Because honestly as kids we didn't know any better, and now that we do, we wish we didn't!

I think this has been a solid ten minutes. To be honest it might have been less; I got up for some mint chocolate skinny cow ice cream sandwiches with cool whip for a hot tick. But it's not like you really care. It's not like you care at all if you are reading this! I mean, who the hell am I? Just a chick with a lot to say and a serious sweet tooth! Any who, I should seriously hop on my reformer now, but I think I'll have another one of those sandwiches instead!

Wicked 'Wicked' Girls

Are you fricken kidding me? I went to my first real audition yesterday since being back in the city. By 'real' I mean, a legit job, not one that requires me to dance on a giant piano in a famous toy store (not that I wouldn't have taken that job if it had been offered to me, but come on-it's no Broadway). I got my ass up at 7am (7:45am by the time I actually got up), schlepped to Ripley Grier studios by 9am, put my name on the Non-Equity list (I was #33) and then moved my non-union ass to the hallway as to allow those more 'privileged' performers (by privileged I mean the ones that found the vending machine that dispenses Equity cards, because there couldn't possibly be any way that they actually booked a show to receive said card). At 10am I found out that the card wasn't for another half hour, so my running around wasn't necessary. During this hour I sat and chatted with people I've met over the last few years through this painful process and then decided I should go check the status of the list.




Though the call hadn't started yet, I knew that the names on the unofficial list should have been transferred by now to the 'special' piece of paper that Equity provided. I've been doing these types of calls for 3.5 years now. The newbie’s to the city show up at the ass crack of dawn to put their names on this list because they believe that it might make some sort of difference in their standings on getting the job. Others show up early to make sure they are some of the first seen because they have to leave at a certain time to get to work or class. I used to be one of these crazy people, now I show up an hour before the call starts (or that I think it starts), get comfy, do my audition, then peace the fuck out. One thing that I have learned in these last three years is a manner of respect for my fellow performers. This respect is shown through many ways including honoring the unofficial list when it becomes time to transfer it to the official list.

This list business is such a pain in the ass, but it's a necessary evil. If you have gotten your ass to mid-town at 7am to start a list, you hope that if you step out for a cup of coffee or a phone call that those people that have shown up after you will commend your effort and place your name in its rightful spot when it becomes time to transfer the names. It doesn't matter that that monitor says to only transfer your name, you transfer ALL the names, and respect the order in which they were put there in the first place.



Apparently these new fresh faced bitches need to read my blog, or simply ask me questions on the protocol of auditioning, because my name was moved from #33 to #92. HOW RUDE! And the thing that pisses me off is this is the second time in the last two months that this has happened to me. And, ironically enough both times have been at open calls for 'Wicked'. What happened to respect and decency for your fellow performers? The industry is in a slump as it is; the last thing we need is for a lack of kindness before we even get in the room. In the room you are allowed to work it, game on...but outside the room, you are nice, cordial, you share your hairspray, offer fashion tips, because by doing these things you allow your competitors to be at their peak in the audition room. You need them to be at their peak, because what's the point of kicking their ass when they look like shit before they even enter the room?!



I know the numbers game is silly and stupid, and I shouldn't be upset, I still got seen. But when you have been pounding the pavement for three years, you get tired, and as much as you are still hoping for a break, you just want people to understand that you are working just as hard as they are! I guess the jokes on the little bitches in the room though... I got called back, they didn't! Now it's back to waiting and seeing.  I know that call from Broadway will happen...today would be nice!

Bite Me Oprah!

One thing I hate more than being sick (which I currently am), is when I hear influential people say stupid and preposterous things. Today's ridiculous statement was by the fabulous Oprah Winfrey. I will admit right off the bat; I'm not a fan of Oprah. She can be fabulous, but she thinks that she's Jesus. Congrats to her for her rags to riches story, getting a black man elected President (whom I love), building a school in Africa and giving away a hundred cars (that she didn't pay for), but leave the encouragement of American ignornace to the Kardashians. The last thing we need is for you, dear Oprah to start blabbing your mouth about things you obviously know nothing about, therefore dictating the future actions of your loyal followers.

Case in point of this is the statement she made on her show about it being acceptable to tip your waiter (or bartender) 10% in this time of economic hardship. Well, I don't know what planet Ms. Oprah lives on, but she just officially fucked with my livelihood. It was bad enough that I had to worry about the minimal to no tips one encounters while waiting on foreign patrons, but now I have to worry about the Mid-West 10. This is BULL! I would like to know where Oprah got her information from. I'm pretty positive that she has never waited a table in her life, though I'm sure she's circled many a buffet. But seriously, where does she get off making a comment that directly affects the paychecks of thousands of Americans.

Though I think it's retarded, millions of people watch her show and take what she has to say as the Holy Grail. I'm not sure why, but people do. She says "buy this sweater", people do. She says "only drink this beverage", people do. She says "do this" to lose the weight and keep it off...ok, well people might think twice with this one. But who would question the most influential person on television when it comes to 'dining etiquette'?  I mean, we all know the parties that she is so famous for hosting! Under any other circumstances I don't know if I would, but this 10% tip shit, is shit.


In case you are like Oprah and completely unaware as to how finances in a restaurant work, here's a little info. Waiters, bartenders, bussers, runners all make their livings, at least here in the United States, from tips. Base salaries exist because it's the law, but it's not minimum wage that we are collecting it's roughly $4.25 an hour. And that's if you are lucky, in some states it's far lower. This hourly base rate is what our taxes come out of; though it's still not nearly enough therefore we all owe thousands of dollars each year while most people are collecting a return check. and in case you don't pay attention, your waiters, bartenders, bussers and runners get to work early and stay late to set up, clean up and organize the restaurant so you have a nice, cool, fun place to go to. And while you are sitting at your table or on your stool they are running around to fulfill your ridiculous requests. Of course we are going to say it's not a problem to get you that fourth basket of bread that we don't even offer in our restaurant. Of course we will run upstairs to get you a band aid for the cut you endured from ripping off your trashy fake nails. Of course it's not a problem to ask the chef to create a new dish especially for you and your dietary limitations when he's got a line of 50 tickets and is missing his fry and sauté guys.


Please don't misunderstand that we are doing these above and beyond things because we like you, or that we think you are special, or that we are just that fabulous. We are doing these obnoxious tasks because we are poor and need money, and if we don't do these things we will lose our jobs and will then be unable to pay for our therapy, and by therapy I mean alcohol. So like I was saying, these tasks that you are throwing at us are usually NOT in our job descriptions, but if we don't follow through we will be unemployed. You need to appreciate our skills, our hard work and our ass kissing, and this appreciation is in the form of a tip. 15% is satisfactory and should be considered the bare minimum, even if your service sucked, someone put in an effort to take care of your needs. 20% is preferred, especially when you know that you have made their job even slightly more difficult than it needed to be.


If you agree with Oprah that it is acceptable to leave a 10% tip, then I ask you to do any of the following:

A. Move to London where this is the standard in tipping.

B. Stay at home, order in, it's cheaper and doesn't require tipping, accept to maybe 3 bucks to the delivery guy.

C. Come right out and admit that you are an ignorant asshole and have no intention on leaving a decent tip. This won't make me like you, but it will at least save me a tad bit of mental sanity when I count how much you've left.  But at least I won't care because I know that I did the bare minimum to meet your needs from the start!

'ME' Day

I am smack dab in the middle of my 'me' day that I was feeling was much deserved, but it’s really just an excuse to stay in my PJs, drink lots of tea, nosh every few hours and watch episodes of The West Wing (YES, I am obsessed) and The Good Wife.



In my previous blog I had mentioned my frustration and currently lacking motivation to do, well, just about anything productive. What I realized is that I'm not lacking in motivation or even passion, but the "butterfly effect". The "butterfly effect" is what I like to refer to as the feeling that everything is worth it. I've currently lost the belief that taking those classes, and going to those auditions, even hanging out at certain industry hot spots are going to have any sort of effect on my current situation. It was the belief that all these things were going to help, or push me in the right direction that used to give me butterflies.


My former roommate would say that I was living in a land of delusion. She said my 'everything happens for a reason, it will all work out in the end' mentality was unrealistic. But at the time it was my sincere belief that it as all going to be all right, and that everything was going to work out. I still feel connected to these mentalities, but I'm on the other side of it, that it's hard to practice it. I've taken the dance classes to make myself better; I've done the voice lessons and the acting coaching. I've dropped weight, colored my hair, changed jobs, splurged on professional shoes and clothes, upgraded my headshots and resume...yet, I'm still in the same boat. My boat seems to only have one oar, because I'm going in circles.


It's silly to admit, but I loved the way it felt to be giddy and 'delusional' to the stresses and challenges in attaining my goals. I guess because I never was as naive as I let on. I was aware of how hard it was going to be to start my career, to get noticed, to achieve the high standards I set for myself. But it was fun trying! It was fun to me to try new dances, new outfits, new teachers, and new jobs. Three years later though, I've tried it all! It's not so fun anymore! I miss the butterflies. I miss the feeling of potentially being left out of greatness, therefore needing to be everywhere, ALL THE TIME. So I know it's not motivation I'm missing, because if it was that, I would still be in bed (and not on the couch...see step in the right direction), and I wouldn't look up class schedules on-line, and I wouldn't have bought a reformer to actually use because I'm not feeling well enough to go to the gym.

So now that I know what it is I'm missing... how do I get it back? How do I get the butterflies back in my stomach? I can say, 'oh, it will start Monday' or 'the first of the month will be the day', but why can't it start today? Why do I need a starting day? Why do I need a marker for life to begin?


I don't want to sit back and watch life roll on. I don't want to pretend like make excuses for not doing things that I know that I want and need to do is ok. I need to be the driver, not the passenger in my life. It’s time I start acting like it!

Bad Day

For my loyal fans out there in the blogging world (all two of you) who have noticed my absence...I'm back. As I sit on my fabulously large and comfy couch watching The West Wing for the 457th time, I am trying to channel the reasons as to why I write this blog. I remember starting it as a way to share all my thoughts, opinions and advice with anyone crazy enough to listen to me.  I guess secretly I was hoping that someone would find the things I had to say funny and kitschy in the ways of Chelsea Handler or Kathy Griffin. Both of whom I know are comedians, which I am not...but I can be kind of funny!  Maybe not 'haha' funny, but 'stupid shit happens to me' funny.



The basis of everything I have to say is obviously coming from the fact that I am a dancer, living in New York City, who has to make a living bartending while waiting for her big break. "Big break", is a phrase that didn't seem like such a preposterous statement three years ago when I first moved to the city, but after a bad day (which I had yesterday), those two words are seriously silly.

I've had far worse days in my life; deaths of family members, horrible fights with friends, break-ups, injuries, failures, but yesterday was one of those days that you don't like to have as a performer, but unfortuneately attack like the plague (or H1N1...ba dum chi!). It was basically a woe is me day, but it left me questioning why I'm doing what I'm doing. I named this blog 'hopelessly passionate' because that's what I like to think that I am.  When times are tough, and seem to show little chance or light or success, I like to think that I have what it takes to keep on going and push though to the good times.  But I also like to think I'm 'hopelessly passionate' because the title is part of a quote in which you are either that or 'very stupid'.  I have moments of stupidity, but I'm not quick to admit to it! 

But what is passion? Can you still be passionate while feeling defeated and unmotivated? Can you call yourself an artist when you are uninspired and frustrated with not only the circumstances of the job, but yourself as well?

I had the pleasure of teaching a class at Broadway Dance Center yesterday. One, in which only six people attended. No, I was not surprised, I was a substitute teacher, and even I don't take classes from subs...but of course I was still hoping for more. Of these six people, one left during the combo, and the other five rolled their eyes the entire time. Not to mention, the fact that I had a class to teach didn't matter to the French Hip-Hop instructor who was in the room before me who thought nothing of going ten minutes over. After the packed room was cleared for my sad excuse for a class size I immediately felt that I was no good. It's one thing to get this feeling at an audition after being critiqued, judged then cut, but to feel like this when you are going to be leading and teaching a class is catastrophic. And the disappointing part of all this to me is that I was so excited an hour earlier to be teaching.  I'm a good teacher, and I'd like to think even a good choreographer. I'm incredibly knowledgeable to the many techniques of dance, I have a strong work ethic, plus I get a huge thrill from it all! Yet yesterday, instead of feeling the joy, I felt the force of pain and struggle. This is the struggle one feels not only as a performer, but the struggle one goes though to get any sort of recognition in this city, not just talent recognition, but the kind of recognition it requires to just cross the street without a cab speeding 50 MPH towards you and not hitting you.


I've thought about giving it all up and switching professions. But the things I'm good at and the things that I like to do require the same schmoozing and networking, the same ass kissing and ladder climbing that this industry demands. Oh, and all the while costing time and money. Another option is to leaveNew York City and teach at some Dolly Dinkle studio, or to do dinner theatre and community choreography in East Bumblefuck...but let’s be serious, I don't want that! I’m better than that! Plus, I have a life in New York (granted it's not one that I really want), but I have friends that are my family, not to mention you can't get the energy and culture of New York anywhere else.

So that is where I was left yesterday. I felt upset and defeated. I want inspiration and motivation. I want to take class to further improve my style and technique. I want to get out of the restaurant business. I want to be able to provide for myself without feeling like every dime I make is potentially being wasted on a silly dream. But at the same time, I know that I am talented. I know that when the opportunity is in front of me, and it's hard and challenging and scary, that I buck up and plow full steam ahead. I know that when I am surrounded by greatness I can't stop thinking and dreaming and striving for more. I know that this isn't some silly dream. I know that there are going to be more bad days, so to prepare for them I am officially taking a 'ME' day. Because there is only one person out there that has faith in my greatness and the power to make things happen, and that person is me!


(For furute reference: Wine + Grey's Anatomy + Good Friends = The Cure to a Bad Day)

Tears....the ones that come from ridiculous laughter!

Have you ever spent a night lying in bed with your best friends sharing stories? Well, I'm sure you have. Last night was one of those nights for me! I was baking mini muffins for my work meeting and in between switching the bans in and out of our one shelf oven, I would run to my roommate’s room, squeeze under the covers and commence in stories with the girls.

Most of the stories were about stupid moments that have happened to and around us in the days before we all met, i.e. High School! I love High School stories. They are all very similar no matter when or where you went to school. It doesn't mater if you had 60 kids in your class or 352 like mine, stupid shit is bound to happen, people are going to be picked on, and someone will get arrested (hopefully not you!).



My roommate took the cake though when it came to funny/stupid/mean pranks from the good old days. Her high school boyfriend lived in a little subdivision where his next door neighbor was also a student at their school. The boy next door was slightly mentally impaired and as is typical in an American High School, he was often picked on. Instead of doing the typical house egging, and ketchup/mustard splattering on the lawn, these individuals decided to fill his pool...with gold fish!



That day when Peter came home from school, it just so happened to be raining. He went into his backyard, saw the pool filled with fishies and jumped into the water to try and save them! He though that it was raining fish, and that he needed to save all the little fish! But the concerned kid that he was ran next door to Bradley’s house, with a fish in hand, to inform him that he too needed to save the fish that the rain brought into his pool too!



It was a combination of the silly/endearing story and the fact that my roommate could not get the story out without laughing that made my abs sore and my eyes pour tears! So the moral of the story is, be nice to your neighbors, and always save the 'fishies'!

"So I Think" They are Children...

The new season of So You Think You Can Dance (SYTYCD) is in full swing. If you have been reading my blog from the beginning you may remember that my sister, Allison, was showcased on the first episode of this season. The beautiful deaf dancer from Texas didn't make it past the first round of Vegas, but she should have based on what I saw from Monday night's performances.

I thought it was a great way to start the season. Showcase the dancers in their forte before throwing them in a different element and right into the hands of the voters. Sadly though, the show left me irritated and annoyed in what the American public is being showed as good dance, and the top talent of the country. All I saw was small children kicking and turning. I didn't see any dancing.

What I love about the basis of SYTYCD is that it allows for talented individuals to work with the best and brightest in the industry, and hopefully jump start what could be long and promising careers. At the same time the show brings dance into the living rooms of people who could either be huge dance supporters or people that know nothing of the art form. Graduates from the top conservatories in the country can watch along side of individuals who have never been to a dance concert or musical in their life. These are the things that make this show amazing. But why then are the viewers being told that 'competition thrash and dash' is all that is good and entertaining to dance?

The opening number by Wade and Amanda Robson showcased not only technique but style and a story. Too bad the twelve year olds that have been placed in the Top 20 don't understand the concept of 'emoting'. Congrats to these individuals who are on the show, I know that it is not an easy feet to do, I have tried. And I'm not taking away from the fact that these kids have potential, but there is no depth to their performances. All I saw from the remainder of the performances were poorly executed turns (I don't care if you do ten when your heel is down) and tilt after tilt (that doesn't require technique; it requires loose hip sockets that will need surgery in ten years).

The one winning number of the night was the Latin trio performed by Karen Hauer and married couple Ashleigh and Ryan Di Lello. I could do without Ashleigh's constant broadcasting that her husband is "her’s", but aside from that personal preference, the performance not only showcased strong technique, but depth. The dancers actually...performed. There was a fire and charisma coming from the stage that left you saying "that's HOT", and rightfully so. The fact that I find funny/interesting was that these performers were the oldest of the bunch. These twenty six-twenty eight years olds made the teenagers look amateur. Plastering a smile on your face, or in most cases, a blank stare is not performing or emoting by any means. I would rather watch someone that can't whack their face with their leg, or throw themselves to the ground if they can pull me into their performance.

I'm not trying to be a Negative Nancy. And by no means am I jealous of these performers. But if I'm not left speechless and dying to run out of my apartment into a dance class because of what I have just watched on television, than these dancers aren't doing their job. Because yes, it is a job. They are on a reality television program, people are watching their every move, and not to see them fall on their face, and not to see them fail. Failing does nothing for me, because I want to do what these people have been given the opportunity to do. And that is not just the chance to dance and start their career; it's the chance to make someone watching you feel something other than the stresses of work or the anxiety of paying bills. Anyone can dance; people do it all the time at weddings and high school dances and clubs across the country. But not everyone is a dancer, a dancer is someone that has the power to move mountains and stop time with movement and emotion. If the emotion is missing, it's just like watching someone 'cut a rug' at a club. I'm not interested in watching that.

So to the current cast of SYTYCD: BRING IT! You have been given an incredible opportunity. Use it as a learning experience, because trust me, there is always something to learn, and if for one second you stop and think that you are done, that you have reached the top...well then yes, you are done. Because no one wants to work with someone or watch someone that thinks they have learned and achieved it all...there's no depth in that, just ignorance and immaturity.

I get it! I don't like it! But I get it!

So I have been ranting about foreigners and the pain I experience waiting on them, but I had a very enlightening conversation with some 'London-ers' yesterday. Though they alone do not make up for the rest of the foreign population that comes through my bar, it did shed some light on the 'tip-no tip' debacle.



The older gentleman that was in the group asked me, very politely, if it was customary to tip the 'bar mate' every time they serviced you. I explained yes, if you are paying as you go. The party was currently running a tab, so I explained that he would just wait till the end.


As he explained to me, things are done very differently in the UK. They never tip the bartender. Their idea of a ‘tip’ is saying ‘and have one for yourself'. I thought this was something someone said as a come-on, but this is the polite/generous thing to do when drinking in London. (To me, it's cheap considering your bartender is probably already 'having one'!). I also found out that when having dinner in London, you may leave up to 10% for a tip. But you would leave nothing is you didn't like the food. Crazy! In the U.S. a 10% tip is like spitting in the waiter's face, and not tipping because the food is bad is just NOT acceptable. The server is not the chef, therefore shitty food is not their fault!  Just send it back, if they respect their job they will fix it without a problem.


After explaining what is customary and appropriate, they seemed very receptive. The couples said the last thing they wanted was to faux pas in a foreign country. Which I definitely understand, but why aren’t all foreigners responding this way? Though, badly on my part I caught myself falling into old mental routines where I would say 'O fuck 'em, they won't tip me anyways.' But I was wrong. Not only did we have pleasant conversation, but they left me 22%! (I did give them two free drinks).


So as of now I am slightly optimistic in the foreigners that will be gracing me with their presence. And if they don't tip I think I’ll be able to say they aren’t mean, just ignorant!

Attention to Any and All of the following:

Attention to any and all of the following:

- Slightly unattractive Caucasian females
- African American couples drinking: Bay Breeze, Hennessey, Amaretto on the rocks or Malibu-anything
- 'People' ordering apple martinis
- Older southern couples
- Older ladies from California
- A family with 2+ underage children
- People from any country other than the US (or possibly Uruguay)
- & stupid boys


The following things are NOT acceptable:
- Verbal tipping

- No tipping

- Shitty tipping for NO valid reason

I am here for the sole purpose of pouring you drinks, and attempting to make stupid small talk. I am not the U.N. ambassador. I am not a sports caster. I am not doing this for my health. I am doing this to make money and pay my bills and buy nice things. So to all of you listed above, doing any of the things listed above are RUDE and OFFENSIVE. Doing these things will NOT make me like you, in fact it might very well lead me to fuck up your drinks/food and possibly even lead me to pour it on you.


So SHAPE UP!  And take a lesson from my SATC girls!

And so it begins (2)

Remember those joys of waiting tables that I was going to tell you about? Well, I stepped on the 'floor' (lingo for serving tables in the dining room) for the first time in 2 months. Let me tell you...don't miss it. I was very shaky due to the pitcher of sangria that I consumed (by myself) the night before. Not to mention, I was un-showered, and un-interested. I figured it was a rainy Saturday and that I'd make a good $100, not have to work too hard and be out by 4pm. You know what happens when you assume!


Apparently tourist season is in full swing. I thought I had a couple of weeks until chaos, insanity and mass pandemonium began- but I was wrong. Here are some of the things that come along with waiting on foreigners:

* Blank stares when you great the tables (this is if you are lucky, because the other option is they yell at you because they are 'NOT READY'. My response is 'I was just saying hello, but feel free to yell at me!"

* Then there are the half-ass translations that come from both ends. I work at a brewery. We make beer. We have many different kinds. But when they look at me and go 'beer-a' I don't even bother with types. I bring a lager. If you are waiting on Italians though, they like options: 'blonde, red or black beer-a'!

* Now we move on to food. When in doubt- just say burger. Everything else comes with unneeded stress and confusion in terms of sauces, temperatures and vegetables. Sometimes you can get something out of your non speaking English friends, but depending on the accent 'medium rare' can sound the same as 'medium well'...that’s when medium is a great option!

* Of course there are also some of my favorite inconveniences with waiting on foreign people:

-Water, coke (anything) is served with NO ICE.
- They always ask for 'ehspreessooo', and then will snub their nose when I serve then with a red stir because we don't have demitasse spoons. Heaven forbid they want a latte, because we Americans 'just don't do it right'. Sorry, but this is not Starbucks- but have no fear there are eight right around the corner.
- And don't forget that all the running around and aggravation comes with little to no tip. I'd rather get nothing than get 33 cents in pennies. YES, this has happened to me. I did not find it funny then, nor do I find it funny now.


I used to feel that it was my job to inform and educate the visitors that came into The Pub. But now, I just don't care enough. It's not worth the aggravation, or the loss of brain cells. So Happy waiting, and bring on the Holidays!