Friday, March 9, 2012

Hopeless Romantic.

I will admit I love a good heel. If you have read my blog, or have had a conversation with me you probably already know that I also live for a teasing comb, lipliner, and 15 coats of mascara. Now I know what you are all thinking, "I didn't know Tammy Faye Bakker was blogging posthumously?" Seriously though when I am getting ready for the day I sometimes refer to it as "getting into costume", and when when I am having a clean faced/sneakers kind of day I say I am having a "stars without their makeup" day. I swear all of this has a point. What I am trying to get at is that even though I am pushing 6 feet tall, even though my hair is big AND red, even though the face is full and the lashes are long, it does not give ANY BODY the right to yell "HEY GIRL DO THE CARPET MATCH THE DRAPES?!?"......that happened......(...and Nana if you are reading this, or if anyone else is reading this who was born before 1950, thats a phrase that a-holes use who are apparently really interested in the color of pubic hair...the drapes being the hair on your head, and the carpet being..well you get it).

As a woman living in New York City you eventually get used to this sort of thing. It is unfortunate, but you quickly learn that these people WANT you to get mad, they WANT you to get offended, and if I just keep walking, they lose. There are many different kinds of phrases that these dapper gentlemen like to shout. Real quick before I go any further, I am by no means the ONLY target of this. These people do this to any person who even slightly resembles a woman. I could leave the house in a pair of poopstained sweatpants, poopstained Uggs, and a messy bun with a poopstained scrunchie and there would be some douchebag on some stoop yelling "Yea Good Morning to YOU Miss, I like to watch you walk away!"....

There's the guys who yell the phrases that really make no sense in relation to being a "come on". A friend of mine often get's the "Good Morning!" as she walks down the street. I am not talking about the "Good Morning!" that is shouted throughout various crowd scenes in a ravishing 1943 Rogers and Hammerstein Musical, no my friends this is more of a pervy "I cannot take my eyes off your ass and I have been standing in front of this bodega for 14 hours and I would normally yell 'Let me stick $%$#%%#%$#$%' but my wife and kid is inside so this will have to do" kind of Good Morning! Another phrase along these lines is the "God Bless YOU!" Now I spent quite a few summers at Vacation Bible School, I learned all the words to "Rise and Shine and give God the Glory....Glory", however I must have missed the day when we were taught that when we bless our neighbor we have to be staring at their cleavage. I feel so breast...I mean blessed...I mean...

Then there are the guys that are just outright vulgar. The gem that I referred to in the first paragraph would probably be put into this category. I am not a demure lady. I am often gassy, profane, can binge on pizza, and occasionally...okay often, refer to shits by the number of matches required to extinguish the smell (ooh thats a TMD...two match dump). All that being said, for the most part I don't yell things at passerbys that should cost at least 2.99 a minute to hear. Mostly because we are in a recession and times are tough......nothing is for free. Listen people, these guys are pretty sick, there have been a few times when even I have had to stop and say..."gross". More often then not I stop...whip out my notepad and go "ooh! good one! ill remember that for tonight!". I don't mean to throw all of this on the guys, however I have only come in contact with one woman ever who was screaming sexual obscenities to other women...and actually she did it non stop from Chelsea to Queens on the N train, so I think she actually made up for all the lost time in that one 35 minute ride...

Then there are those who are not that gross, sometimes even endearing, but just have WAY too much to say. The other day I was walking down the street and this guy with a cane was screaming for people to give him money for food. I then walked by and he said "Wow looking at you makes me forget that I even got the shit beat out of me last week by those assholes and cant afford my rent or even a cup of coffee". I gave him a dollar, to which he replied "God Bless You". I think he meant it in the normal way, not the pervy "I want to do you" way....

Then there are the visualists. They do say actions speak louder than words, however in this case, I prefer a novel. Another friend of mine was telling me about the unisex sauna at the gym he attends. He said the men usually stick to one side and the ladies to other, mostly for convenience of location to the appropriate locker rooms. He said there was one precious man who decided to sit on the side closest to the ladies locker room, actually facing the locker room, and then start pleasuring himself. Now if I were in that sauna I may have sat down next to him and started asking him questions about the health history of his family and if there was a reason why he felt the need to give himself a routine self testicle checkup in the middle of the sauna? Or maybe I would have started singing "I don't want anybody else when i'm in the sauna I TOUCH MYSELF!"....but really dude, gross. My friend took the mature route and spoke to an employee about the situation, but why does this happen?

Why do people, men, women, whatever, feel the need to do such things. There have even been days when I have thought to myself, on those days when I am wearing heels, and I look all fancy "Ya know what, its my own fault I dressed up, I was asking for it.." NO! I was not asking for it, do those guys running down the street shirtless always have to worry about women screaming "LET ME SEE THAT $%^&!" Not often. I mean I am sure it happens, and I am sure there will be some people that will try to argue this and talk about what men go through, and I am also sure unicorns exist. People are pigs. People yell gross shit at people who don't deserve it, sometimes they even stick their hands down their pants while doing it. It should probably just stop.

There have been a few times when someone has said something to me along the lines of a "pick up line" that was sweet, that I replied to with "thank you", and went along my way...but do these people who act like those I have mentioned above, seriously think that their tactics will work? EVER? I mean call me old fashioned but I don't picture anyone sitting down with their grandparents and saying "Grandma how did you meet Grandpa?" and Grandma saying "Well honey, I was walking down the street, and Grandpa was on the stoop with his hands down his pants screaming 'BITCH LET ME TAP THAT!!!' I knew he was the one..."

Friday, March 2, 2012

When I Grow Up....

Guys, I don't mean to brag here, but I did win the "When I Grow Up" Speech Competition in the 3rd grade. I wowed the judges with my yearn to be on Broadway, telling them that someday someone would hear MY voice on a cassette tape! I also talked about how much I loved Carol Channing and that I had discovered my calling whilst in the chorus of the King and I. This morning as I sit here with my oversized mug of black coffee, getting some writing down before I have to head off to play waitress, I look back at this time and smile. It is important to remember these things, not only because it really gives me a clear vision of why I am still single, but also reminds us to go back to that place where anything is possible. Now, before I continue I will have to come to terms with the fact that I may not be able to hear my voice on a cassette tape seeing as though this is 2012 and I think I missed that boat in about '97, also I think i finally retired my Channing tee-shirt (yes I had one, that I school....often), and outside of the Metro-Detroit area, I doubt anyone will ever be able to find a place for me in the children's chorus of the King and I. Oh well, at least I have the memories.....MOVING ON!

Basically what I am trying to get to here is that growing up is scary. When you are young you have so many dreams, some are big, some are more realistic, some will come true, and some we are too afraid to go after. As we grow the things that seemed so important to us then are not as important now. In highschool our parents were constantly telling us "In 10 years, NONE of this will matter". They were right. It doesn't. I thought my life was going to be over when I couldn't go with the Marching Band on the trip to Hollywood. Folks, I survived, I also heard the trip we had to Cleveland, Ohio was a better time anyways. What is important are those things that stay with us. Well most things that stay with us, the awkward backfat and muffintop I have been trying to get rid of for years, that shit can go fuck itself and doesn't matter anyway. What I am talking about are those things that we talk to our friends about when we are younger, the same things that we eventually work towards in high school, those dreams that help us choose our path in college, those goals we talk about until 4 AM when we are screaming for one more vodka soda and convincing our friends that "our lives start tomorrow!", those things, the things that have stayed with us even when we realized Zack and Kelly wouldn't last past Bayside High, and that the Backstreet Boys were actually awkward looking. The things that seem much harder once the bar stool is pushed in, and your fear is on display. For me, today, growing up is about being who you always wanted to be, and growing into who you are meant to be, and loving who you are turning out to be. Growing up is ultimately acceptance...which is hard.

With so many social media websites around, it is hard for us not to compare ourselves with one another. While on Facebook I see the lives of those I went to high school with. Most of them married, with children, and a house..with a washer and dryer. This is when I begin to fear that I am not growing up. I am sitting in my Queens apartment that I share with 2 other people, I just finally graduated out of a twin bed this past year, and I have to play restaurant at night in order to pay my bills. This is also when I have to stop and breathe and say "You is kind. You is smart. You is important." Actually I never say that but I did just watch The Help last night and I really needed to throw that in here at some point. But seriously, this is when I have to stop and say you got out of Warren, MI and moved to NYC, you have lived here without struggling for 4 years, you have a job, you woke up on Black Friday and said "I AM BETTER THAN THIS TWIN BED!" and hauled your ass to the mattress store and bought a big girl bed, this is growth. This is growing up.

Most importantly I have to look at my life through the eyes of the 9 year old Elise. The 9 year old Elise that would have done ANYTHING to achieve her dreams. When I look at my life through her eyes, everything seems to be going at the right pace. When I am on the subway coming home late, when I start to look less like a classy server and more like Deb the Diner waitress, when I get up far too early to wait in line at an audition, when I don't wakeup for the audition because I don't know if thats what I want to be anymore, when I feel like my time will never come, and when I feel like my heart is so full, I have to think of her. I have to remember that sometimes growing up is just about looking back, sometimes growing up is about gratitude, and sometimes growing up is about the small things.

In closing, I would like to say that I was ultimately disqualified from the competition in the 3d grade. Once I got to the district level my plan was to win over the judges with my velvety 9 year old tenor chords. I closed my speech with the following " Judy Garland so beautifully sang in the Wizard of Oz, If happy little blue birds..."
"Miss Castle, you cannot sing any copywritten material without the consent of the are disqualified..."