Well, I finally have a job... thank you God (and the friend of my sister's who helped me land it) hahaha. I am so incredibly thankful and happy to be working again. I am now a server at the Highline Ballroom, in the meatpacking district. It's a small (700 people) concert venue, and they also host private parties and brunches (where the minimum per table is $10,000) and they have club nights. The first night that I worked, Rita Ora was performing along with DJ Havana Brown, and Jay-Z showed up for the show... it was pretty awesome. I'm not really into celebrity worship (the only exceptions being Kate Moss and possibly Pete Doherty), but I must say it was pretty awesome to know that Jay-Z was sitting about 10 feet away from where I was learning the ropes of serving cocktails/food. Hey, If I'm gonna be somebody's cocktail bitch, I may as well be a rich, famous person's. I am still looking for a day job (hopefully something that can blossom into an actual career of sorts), but for now, this should be enough to pay the bills. Before I found this job I was seriously at my wit's end. I'm talking crying-every-day depressed, because I was so stressed that I couldn't find a job. I haven't written in quite some time (also because I've been too depressed and busy searching for jobs), and have a new addition to my apartment; Breezy, the foster cat.
I am fostering Breezy through an organization called The American Street Cat, which takes in stray cats off the street, spays/neuters them, and either releases them, or finds homes for them based on whether or not they have ever been domesticated. Breezy is an older cat, and was taken in from a parking garage in Breezy Point (hence her awful name... did you really think I would name a cat 'Breezy'?!). The poor thing was spayed when they brought her in for an evaluation at the vet's office, meaning she was someone's pet once and they dumped her for whatever fucked up reason. When I agreed to take her in, she had to go back to the vet's for dental work (thankfully she has a financial sponsor who pays for her bills) and came back with 4 teeth extracted. I've been giving her antibiotics in her soft food, and she seems to be eating more, meaning her mouth doesn't hurt her after the extractions. She is a sweet cat, but she's extremely skittish, which makes me think that her previous owners may have abused her. She spends all day chilling under my bed, and only comes out when I'm gone, or sleeping at night. I crawl under there a few times a day to pet her, and if I scoop her out, sometimes she will sit on my lap if I'm petting her, but as soon as my hands are off her she will run and hide again. I thought that fostering a cat would be all peaches and cream- I thought I'd have a furry friend to cuddle and watch movies with or play with, but I guess not. Oh well, I guess I'm doing a good deed for the animal kingdom nevertheless. I'm sure Breezy will find a permanent home soon, but I don't know if I ever want to foster another cat after she leaves.
On another note, I FINALLY have a couch! No more sitting around on an itchy, wool carpet for me! Now I can finally entertain guests without apologizing for lack of seating. haha.
Yayyyyy for a proper living space! Now If only Breezy would come join me on the couch once in a while...
I am lame and felt the need to post this pick I took on the terrace the other night as the sun was setting because it was extraordinarily beautiful.
I am lucky to have a job, but unfortunately I will only be home for Christmas Eve and Christmas and then return to the city to work. I am scheduled to work on Sunday night, so my sister, brother in law, and niece left to go upstate without me, and now I will be forced to pay $80 to ride the ghetto mobile also known as the Greyhound bus. Kill me now. I fucking hate public transportation; it's so smelly, and dirty and makes me literally feel nauseous. In fact, I've thrown up riding the greyhound bus on two different occasions (no, I wasn't hungover, thank you very much). I've also experienced the worst of humanity on the greyhound bus, including trashy parents who tell their two year old, inquisitive child to 'shut up,' a woman who busted out a smelly, hard-boiled egg to eat, and some old dude who was clearly rubbing his dick in his pants as he sat next to me when I was like 18. People on the bus are fucking nasty. I can't wait to be home though. I had all of the Christmas presents that I ordered delivered to my parent's house upstate, so I'm going to have to spend all day wrapping them. Hopefully everything I ordered has showed up. I can't wait to hold Bijou and play with Ceely.
I have spent the last week of my life baking Christmas goodies (I decided to give all my extended family members huge cookie/candy plates), and thusly have also spent the last week of my life on acne control. As you may or may not know from previous posts, I experienced a terrible acne breakout upon moving to the city. It's been relatively under control for about a month now, as my acne medication kicked in. However, I am scared to indulge myself in sugar and alcohol, because despite what anyone says, these things honestly make me break out. Despite my best efforts to curb my cookie-nibbling, dough-sampling, frosting-licking ways, I have no self-control when I am baking, and usually eat like 1/4 or the batter. The other day I made more of those rice krispie treat balls (covered in chocolate) and even though I put them in my freezer to keep for others, I find myself taking them out and eating them... still frozen. How fucking shameful. Today I made home-made caramel-covered apples, rolled in chocolate and nuts. I knew going into the baking, that caramel is probably the worst thing ever for my skin, and it also happens to be one of my favorite sweets... a terrible combination. My home-made caramel was so fucking delicious though, that I guess a couple zits are worth it.
The apples, covered in caramel and ready to be rolled.... half the carmel now calls my stomach 'home.' haha. On the right is the chocolate bark I made. It has slivered almonds, dried cherries and apricots, and salted dark-chocolate. Melting chocolate is a pain in the ass... I don't think I'll ever do it again. It took like 5 hours to dry.
Tonight I have tentative plans to make thumb-print cookies and these delicious, almond-flavored candy cookies (depending on whether or not I think I have enough self-control to not eat half the batter).
And because I am a fucking narcissist, and this is probably the last time before February that I will look thin enough to sport body-con dresses, I will leave you with some gratuitous self-portraits, because it's my blog and I can!
What I would wear every day If it were only socially acceptable. Thank God I am allowed/supposed to dress sexy at my new job. My boyfriend slipped and told me he got me this awesome, black body-con dress for Christmas.... I can't fucking wait to put that baby on.
Addendum:
I can't even believe how much cookiedough/chocolate/caramel/cookies/carbs/curry/banana milk, EVERYTHING else I consumed today.... These pics were both taken today, no lie.
8 am... looking like a man
8pm (no, I'm not pregnant... obviously)
