fucking day jobs

I've been sitting here at this temp job, trying to get hired permenantly and it's stupid. I don't even want the job. I don't want a non-creative job. And if I lived in any other city, I'd be able to live on what an audience developement coordinator, or actor, or stage manager, or marketing assistant makes.

vampires need love too

i can been seen all over the city right now in my "True Blood" print ad - "Support Vampire Rights".

it's exciting! it's also really weird to see my face 5 feet tall. i'm also a little self-conscious about the way i look. but it's an opportunity for me to learn how to deal with this, on a small scale, before it happens on a big scale.

nerve-y

so, i've been emailing with a couple of guys on nerve. one guy seemed really nice, but just bored me to tears. another guy got straight to the point and asked me to meet up for a drink. i appreciated his directness, and figured he must be smart because he knows i'll probably loose interest after a couple of emails. better make plans with me now. so we did. make plans. and he promptly broke them. never. view. again.

then i got an email from a guy who says he's a conceptual artist. kinda seems interesting from his profile. funny, charming, etc etc. he seems tall and robust from his photos and has his hair buzzed really short (to camouflage the receding hairline). one picture is a close up and he's got a beard and is wearing a big fur 'trapper' hat. anyway his email said:

"Subj: I don't have a bare chest in my photos (I'm pretty sure I possess one though)
Hi, thanks for the wink-back (your photos are very charming, by the way). I love your taste in movies. If you ever feel like meeting for cocktails and discussing, you know... "CINEMA," drop me a line."

nice, right? (the bare chest thing is a reference to my profile in which i say "if you are bare chested in any of your profile photos we probably aren't right for each other")

so I wrote back:

"hey, i appreciate that you didn't reveal your bare chest in your photos. you wouldn't believe the idiots who write to me. i'm intrigued by the fur hat you appear to be wearing in your photo. it's funny. you look like a post-punk-russian-eskimo. drinks and discussion would be fun! let's meet up sometime-jamie"

funny right? okay maybe not" anyway he must have not thought it was funny. he hasn't written me back. well, he's missing out, that's all i have to say about that.

also, i had to block two guys from winking or emailing. one kind of stalked me a year ago when i had a different profile name and picture. he's got a picture of his ripped, bare, waxed? chest in his profile. the other guy is 49 years old (and i think that's a lie) and lives in South River, NJ.

oh yikes.

to recap some dating experiences in new york

i'm really focused on talking about dating right now because i'm trying to get back into the game and i'm horrified. to recap some of my recent experiences, i give you the following:

in a moment of desperation i paid for a month long subscription to eharmony and so far it's weird. people are so weird. there is a Guided Communication thing on eharmony, where instead of writing notes back and forth you first send a list of 5 multiple choice questions to the person, then they answer and send 5 back, then you send your "must haves" and "can't stands" (basically your deal breakers for a relationship). then eventually you send messages. well, one of my matches started communication, i answered his questions and sent him 5 questions. each multiple choice question has a choice where you can fill in the blank. this guy filled in the blank on each answer, barely answering the actual question, but using the opportunity to say stuff like "you have amazing eyes" and "i really like your smile by the way" and insert random emoticons. i "closed communication".

and in several more moments of desperation, i put up a new profile on nerve. there are actually a few interesting newcomers to nerve. then i got a message from a guy who claims to be a world traveler etc etc. but then wants to take me out for "an expressso".

another date

i had a date last night. it was awful. nothing much else to say. he totally misrepresented himself. when he said he was an artist i was thinking "graphic artist" "designer" "fine artist with really cool art related day job". he's a 42 year old painter, former actor, who works at a movie store and i couldn't tell if he had just showered or was sweating a lot. i mean my expectations were low, but not that low. so depressing. i came home and had another beer to wash away the lost evening and woke up to a hangover. talk about adding insult to injury.