Bore-dumb

I am seldom actually bored. But when it comes to working at a bar from seven until two am, with barely any customers and spending the majority of my time on my laptop plugging myself into Model Mayhem and updating my Myspace... I've finally found how I can be bored. I'll be leaving here with 15 dollars tonight, which will be enough to get me a pack of cigarettes and I may even spring for a 6-pack or bottle of wine for tomorrow. This is just ridiculously lame, however. I cannot live like this anymore, for real. I like good food and a nice home and good booze and shit. I hate going to Walgreens to develop my film cause I don't have the money to go to Danella's. I'm going to pound my head into the tabletop if I don't find a new job and figure out a living situation. I'm starting to get nervous that my dick landlord will pull Ultra Dick and change my locks or some shit. I haven't seen him since I got back, so I can't even pull the pathetic Please-Let-Me-Stay I-Have-No-Where-To-Go thing. Which isn't false, though perhaps exagerated, and perhaps not. I have this sick way of assuming that life will toss me some bone when I need it.

Though it did send me James, I fear I'd still be sleeping in my bed all day being pathetic if I hadn't met him. I guess it's my turn to continue the good luck.

Though it hasn't tossed me a job in the months that I've needed one, so I guess I'll break down tomorrow and go out and actually apply. Imagine that. I also need to get some cleaning done, and hopefully I'll still have an apartment for my planned guest to come and visit, haha.

I just figure this is Life's way of showing me humility.

But, God, I think I've learned it.

I'm a little scared that I'll never be good enough for these things that I want to be doing. I've got all these ideas about modeling and photography and the people I've surrounded myself with and what I'm going to do to build my life the way I want it. Fuck, half of me thinks I can really do anything I want, the other half says I'm a fool.

I'd rather be an adventurous fool, than too causcious and safe. My worst fear is looking back and saying,

"I could have..."







Me and Grandpa in his trainer Plane. I don't think I've ever seen him happier than when he's flying, more so when he was teaching me. An Airport Bum. APB. (He declaired to me).

I'm in Love with the World

Don't be mad cause we're so fucking cool.
Got a bunch of super fun photos back.
Including James and I.
Including Bowling.
Including kitties.
(all three)

PBR and Stella

Classy guy, that Christopher Bush.


I like my hair, after a few days of hemming and hawing over it.


I also think it's hillarious that I was waiting on four photographers from anywhere from a few weeks to a few days... and then today, three of them show photos. Aaaand I guess I can add myself, a fifth party, to that mix... seeing as I'm gonna finish this smoke and go pick up four rolls of film. mmmmmmmmmm, can't wait. Nervous, though, cause they ain't anything special.. meaning taken with a point and shoot, and for the most part are just snapshots... But I'm excited about that. Random shit. Every day shit.

I like everyday shit.. extra specially cause it's with someone I extra special like.

Start the Semester off Right

Photo I took with my 440 polaroid. I love it. Sarah is beautiful.


I'm in NYC and am having a hard time seperating responsability from my heart. I love it down here, and my life in this small world with a man I adore. Conversation, wine, cigarettes, pool and bowling, awesome friends in quiet bars. I've burned through like ten rolls of film just with a point and shoot, taking random photos. My cats are here with me, which is nice. And are just getting comfortable, then I shove them back in the car.

Skipped my first day of classes yesterday, and am going to skip my class for tonight, as well. I don't give a fuck, though, cause first days are bullshit anyway. The important one I go to is Science of Light 2, tomorrow. Can't miss that one. I'm real good at justifying pretty much anything. It's just so nice here! Whatever, at least I'm taking photos. And Chris dragged me into a bar bathroom again to take photos, which is neat. See! Modeling and taking photos and drinking with friends and being happy! Shiiiiit, totally worth missing a couple classes. ;)


I just don't want to leave.

Balls to the Wall

Lastnight I drunkenly emailed Terry Richardson with a silly and very short email packed with attachments from James Graham, Chip Willis, Frank Petronio, Christopher Bush and KC Gunn. It suddenly gave me this idea to start emailing photographers that AREN"T on Model Mayhem... There's something productive and fun about being so proactive about it. Aim high. They're no different than these amazing people I HAVE been working with. Even if I don't get a response, at least I tried.

But suddenly I feel un-fucking-stoppable.



Photo by Chip Willis.

Blood

One week, 1, 300 miles, 22 hours of driving, 2 countries, 4 cities, 4 states, 2 photographers, 2 cats, 1 MILF, 2 drunken nights, 110 dollar ticket: 83 in a 65, 6 smokes inside, 1 incident at the boarder, 200 dollars spent, 1 flying lesson, 9 family members, 1 grave visited, 1 dead father actively ignored, 1 sister to beat around the bush, 1 man to grip at my heart.

I'm finally home and I'm that sort of tired that makes girls like me cry. Been on the road for ten hours and smoked one more cigarette, this time in the comfort of my own home. I still have to bring in a bunch of shit from my car and pack for New York City, which I'm getting up for at eight am. I barely have the strength to sit up let alone trek up and down the stairs burdened with my over packing. I just want to sleep for a of couple days.

I'm shaking from lack of sleep, lack of food and caffeine. Pan and Artemis are mad because I don't have food for them, which is why I'm getting up so early.. have to go get them food before I catch my train. Thank god I can sleep on that ride.

My heart aches.

Slow Day

Slow days are always the worst. When thoughts that you dont' care to dwell on rise up. Like :

-Where are my friends I used to have?
-Where am I going to go when I go home and have to move my stuff out?
-How will I get a job without a phone?
-Where are my fucking friends?

Yeah I guess that's about it. The concept to me, of just dropping people you've been close with, is completely foreign. But I shouldn't complain, because I'm getting new friends. But I liked the old ones, too. Sigh.

I try to keep just thinkign about the good stuff, though. This semester at school should be really good. Settling back down into a healthy routine. Working on my "self". Going through my apartment and trashing the things I don't need. I'm looking forward to that.

Move forward. Stop looking back.

Flying

My grandfather got a little Cessna trainer plane so my aunt could learn to fly. Today, he took me up in it. It's the first time I've flown with him in like four or five years, and it's just as fun as it used to be. I didn't fly it much myself, because I was stupid timid, but really I just wanted to go up with him to spend time and to have some fun. I did have fun, too, cause he did just what he used to when we were little: up, down, side-to-side.. only more so. We did these not figure-eights figure-eights (not upside-down) that really pushed and shoved your gut good, which is always fun. It's neat looking out the window and looking straight at the ground. I've never seen my grandfather so excited.. Though he was a little bummed that I wasn't more agressive about learning and flying myself, but I needed a warm-up go, yaknow? IT"S A PLANE, dammit, totally foreign and stuff. I had the little point and shoot that Frank gave me and was snapping pictures and giggling and that's basically all I did. I listened to all the stuff Grandpa told me about the instruments and how to fly and what does what, which is real interesting to me as it is. So now I think I'll eventually have to learn how to actually fly and get my license. I may need it when the apocalypse comes.

That, and I've added something to my Life To-Do List:
-Find an aerobatics pilot to take me flying and to photograph... though not in the plane. Obviously.


I'm also trying not to want to go to Fashion Week. Not that I know what that even means. I do a good job at pretending I hate fashion.

Sometimes I honestly think people want me to fail. But not people I know, just people I don't know. What makes a stranger decide upon looking at a photo or seeing you, make them want to be nice or mean? It makes me wonder if I really come off as that much of a bitch. Cause I really don't mean to.

Lately I've been told that I'm average looking, or implied, or treated thus. I mean, I've been noticing it. Not that I ever thought that I wasn't, I just have never been told. It's painful for me to love modeling so so much and in the back of my mind know that I don't have that extra something to make me a Real Model. I like to believe that if I really wanted to, I could get an agency and do it. But when it comes down to it, even though I love fashion, I don't love it that much. I keep telling myself to stop worrying about it, to just keep working with people who I love their person and their work.


Besides. Photographer first.

I've failed my Photo-J class four times

Have you ever tuned your thoughts around a song and thought it was a love song, only to find out it was heartache? Do you see music as pictures, moving or still? I love seeing the story. The colour of hair or the sneakers. Has a photo ever made you cry? Once really sticks out to me. I was going through these photo books at a used bookstore, it was a LIFE book, I think.. There was a photo of some act of war or terrorism, and there were people digging in the dark rubble and everything was dark colours, dirt all over the man in the middle, carrying over his head the broken body of a baby in a white nightgown. Thinking about it makes me pissed. That's when I realized how great photojournalism could be. I started looking at National Geographic instead of Vanity Fair. I found waterfalls and cliffjumpers. Aids in Africa. Animals going extinct. Glaciers melting. Beautiful waters and trees and food and people. Makes me feel like fashion can go suck a cock or maybe just my pinky toe. I'd rather try to fuck it all up something awesome.

Hmmmmm... I'll go start writing the game plan. Who's in?



(still like fashion)

New Years

It was a great New Years. My friend Sarah showed up New Years Eve to demand that I go with her to Vermont with her boyfriend and a bunch of his friends and coworkers. So I did. Didn't overdo the partying, though it may have something to do with the fact that everyone around me was obliterated except Sarah. Went to bed somewhere around two after Sarah and Bobbie went at it in the bed next to me, and didn't even invite me! Shame on them.

Then we got up and Bobbie (Sarah's boyfriend) had to go meet his buddies to go snowboarding at like ten am. By the time we'd brought him there, Sarah and I had pretty much convinced ourselves that we wanted to go skiing (instead of tubing? I don't wanna go tubing, I wanna fuck myself up on these wicked slopes duuuh). Well, I convinced her that we did, though it was originally her idea. Anyway, it was a site to see, I'm sure. With mismatched snow gear, we looked more like kids getting ready to make a snow fort rather than go down hill skiing on this huge fucking mountain. The first time down was rough, the second much better, and by the end of the day we were having a lot of fun. We ended up going to the very top (just once), which took forever! Anyway, I was so proud of myself because I went from plowing real slow like, to actually starting to ski like a normal person again. Last time I skied was like six years ago.

Listening to a bit of happy music for once.
Just a bit, though. ;)