And, We're Back.

To the five or so people I had reading my previous blog, (Grandma, that includes you):

I’m Sorry. One evening a few months back, I was feeling annoyed by my clichéd enteries and erased it spitefully. And now I miss it. So here I am: Take Two ala Mickey Rourke.

Hopefully this time I’ll incorporate further insightful narrative to awaken your spirit, and make you feel good about your life and the fact you aren’t on a street corner making balloon animals.

(Although I’d applaud anyone who ever worked the Denver Buskerfest and resided to giving the “art” to the homeless in trade for McDonalds coupons. They do have tasty fries.)

Ugh, why do I bite my nails like this? I swear, every year I have made a pact with myself that THIS will be the year I stop biting my nails. I have gone for weeks, and even months when my will power overrides my desire to knaw. But seemingly, every New Year I look down and realize nothing has really changed. It’s actually quite fascinating: I can examine my nails and decipher my subconscious and state of mind for the previous days. In a good week, they are unnoticeable and well kept. But days of running late, tension, dissatisfaction, they are mangled and a helluva embarrassment to even myself.

I can thank my mother for introducing me to Broadway Nails: For Petite hands.
These have come as a life saver for auditions when I must flash my hands in front of my face, and not relive the Mary Kay audition nightmare of my youth **

They really aren’t designed to last for more than one day, and lets be honest, for $5.99 I have fairly low expectations, but often I’ll keep them, admiring my beautiful hands if only for a day or two. Usually circa day 3, one will pop off. I must make a note to find the nail immediately at all costs, acknowledging that if anyone found it they too would be appalled. This has happened, seriously, at a boyfriend’s house, a football tailgate, a business meeting, carrying menus to a table and setting them down, you name it. I resisted all urges today in Target when I saw them in the beauty isle. It’s not worth it later when they fall off, I decided. And so I moved on to browse more crucial items like candles, frames and children’s clothing. I’m regretting it now, glancing down as I type.
One must sacrifice pride for beauty. And so, I plan on returning to purchase them.
It was a challenging week and my nails have suffered the consequences.

Moving on, I just finished watching the Oscars. They really took it to musical town with this one. I mean, Hugh Jackman, gayer than a day in May, did an entire song and dance to announce each best picture nomination. And then a lap dance for Barbara Walters in the interview to follow. A straight man cannot move his hips like that. Obviously, I was blissfully happy and couldn’t have been more impressed with the musical splendor. Bravo Oscar producers. I will put it out there that if Vanessa Hudgens can perform at the Oscars, I think America could have a black president. Oh, wait.

I also suggest you invest in the Slumdog Millionare soundtrack. It puts me in this elated-overseas- trance frame of mind, where nothing can bring me down and I want to dance around West Hollywood bindi and a bedazzled sarong.

Uh, crap, my right eye is twitching. It only does this when I’m exhausted or have been looking at something intensely for an extended period of time. I have been staring at my computer and working for the past 4 hours, and so my vision is beginning to blur and actually…ya, uh, the twitch is getting worse. Ok time for slumber.

I wish I had a closing contemplative inspiration for the day, but I’ll keep the expectations low for now, as not to disappoint. That, and my internet is down so I can’t google inspirational quotes.


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**Had an audition for a Mary Kay commercial back in the day, and not only did I have to flash my hands in the face deal, but actually had to place my hands on the table in front of the casting director. They were but painful nubs and I was so flustered, that when I went to do my line for camera, I jumped in the air and my lanky arm flew up in the air and I punched myself in the eye.