My Twenty-Something Quasi-Soap

Last night I went to New B with Andre and we were later joined by Liz and Rich at our favorite New B bar. Before I launch into the whole tragic story, I must give my dissertation/philosophy on the difference between bars and clubs. I'll try to keep it short. I promise. *clearing throat* The Difference Between Bars and Clubs A club is a place where you get dressed up in a manner that will undoubtedly attract the opposite (or same in individual cases) sex. The main objective of the club is to drink, dance, and flirt with possible love interests. The club serves as an environment for the 21st century mating ritual. Clubs are not intended to house meaningful conversation. A bar is a place where you throw on whatever you want to wear. Since you're going to the bar to hang out with your friends, you really don't give a shit as to what you're wearing. The main objective of the bar is to kick back some suds with some great company and talk about stuff. The bar serves

Spent yesterday incessantly checking my phone but it never rang. I'm still waiting for an answer, so I'll be calling later this afternoon to follow up on everything. Dude, I really need this job. I've already been to one interview at a bank and I was so bored that I think I really would kill myself if I had to work there. And the pay is totally crap. In other news... So I went to Blockbuster yesterday to pick up a few flicks to watch while waiting for my phone to ring. Got home, watched Garden State and it was cool. Then it was time to watch Friday Night Lights . I pop the DVD into my player and... Disaster strikes. The previews are skipping and freezing all over the place. I push the stop button. "Operation not allowed by disc," I am told. Irritated, I walked the three feet to the DVD player and physically removed the disc. Have you ever looked at the back of a rented DVD? Let's just make this Public Service Announcement time: Hold the f-ing DVD by its edges

Fortunately I have no interviews scheduled for today, and I don't have Shoestring rhearsal, so I have nothing to do today. Except one thing. Wait for my phone to ring. I had my second interview with the rent-a-car place yesterday and it went pretty well. Well enough that I walked away from it feeling that I did ok enough to pass on to the third interview, but there's still that tiny bit of doubt. I'm at like 90%-10%. Or maybe 70%-30%. Anyway, I have been incessantly checking my cell phone to see if it's still working. Am I getting all 5 bars of service? The ringer is on, right? Maybe I should call my phone from the landline to see that I can still get incoming calls. Yes, I can. Then I wait another half hour and repeat the check process. Hence I have decided to go to Blockbuster and rent a few movies. I owe it to myself, I figure, to finally kick back and take a break since I've been nonstop busy since last Wednesday. And of course, the cellphone will be attached to

My Shoestring kids wore me out tonight. I still love them to death, but I wanted to choke them at times. Their retention skills weren't quite in order tonight. In job hunt news, things are going along smoothly. I'll have more information soon, but I don't want to count any chickens before they hatch. Down to eat dinner before I pass out right here at the computer...I have another busy day tomorrow.

All in all, the expedition went well. I've improved my driving reflexes all around. Between NYC taxis and axle-wrecking potholes in Flushing, I have learned a lot about driving. On Friday, I took a side trip out to Long Island to see a movie. I had lots of time to kill. And now the show's over and I'm really sad. I'm going to miss my New York cast so much! I guess that means I'll just have to put more energy and love into my Shoestring kids. My way of filling the big gaping hole left in my heart. And I'm being way too dramatic about this. This week is going to be pretty busy. I have three job interviews lined up, so something good has to come out of one of those things. Hopefully I'll have a new job by the end of the week and I can start saving up for the apartment. Our move-in day will be July 1st. Now we just have to find a place that we can afford. *sigh* Other than all that, I've just been really bored lately. Hence my blogs have been boring and not

Hi! It's me, Amber. I'm still here at the same blog site, but I just changed the name. I've been planning to do it for a while, since "Ponderings of a Princess" didn't really fit me anymore. That's all for now, I guess.

So far, not so bad. I had to stop at the office in Manhattan first to help load props and make sure we had everything. Got to the city an hour early, chilled in Starbucks for a bit, then went to the office. I didn't have time to move my car a second time, resulting in a $65 parking ticket (ouch!). By 2:30, it was time to head to Queens! As the rain started to come down, we (the company manager and I) got stuck in wretched crosstown traffic trying to get to the Queensboro Bridge. Once across the bridge, we took a 15-minute scenic detour through Long Island City because I made a wrong turn. Soon we were on the L.I.E. Disastrous traffic!!! Creeping and crawling down the expressway. Finally we made it to the theater. You know how in the movie "Men in Black" the alien disguised his spaceship in those two tower from an old World's Fair exhibition? The theatre is located directly under those towers. It's kinda trippy. Rehearsal went well, and now I'm back home with n

I'm trying to remember if I blogged yesterday. Yesterday, of course, was Valentine's Day. Well, it was V-Day to everyone on the face of the planet except me. Yesterday was February 14, nearly halfway through February. I could easily take this time to comment on my lone spinster status, but who wants to hear about all of that nonsense? Anyway, I'm 3/5 of the way through "Bridget Jones: Edge of Reason." I do believe I've found a new hero. Today was pretty busy without being busy. I made phone calls and did e-mails in preparation for my Queens expedition tomorrow (more on that later), and spent a whole bunch of time on the phone lining up job interviews. Oh yeah, I definitely see a bank counter and sensible shoes in my near future. So tomorrow starts the second leg of the show that owned my life last month. This time around, it's being done in Queens. Like, the outer boonies of Queens. The end of the 7 line. Far, far away. I've decided to drive out there

So I'm in the middle of my wake-up routine: get out of bed, pee, sit at computer and check e-mail, set away message, then do random things on computer till I have thought of something else to do. As I'm doing these random things, I thought: "Oh yeah, the Grammys are on tonight. There are supposed to be some pretty cool performances. Maybe I'll watch that tonight." "But Desperate Housewives is on tonight...it's Sunday. Well, maybe it'll be a rerun." "Damn! New episode. Why would they do that? Oh well, so I'll just catch the first hour of the Grammys and then flip over. No big deal." "Shit." "The guy is supposed to be taking me out to dinner sometime today on his way back to school on Long Island. What if he wants to go late? Like 8pm? Then I'd miss Desperate Housewives!" "But Daddy can tape it for me and I can watch it as soon as I get home" "But it's not the same! Is this guy really worth m

...to quote Monty Python in all its witty British-ness. So my lovelife (or lack thereof, shall we say) has apparently reached such a disastrous point that I am now the lone spinster out of, like, everyone I know. To attempt to remedy this situation, I was set up on what I called a kinda-but-not-really blind date. It's best described as a group setting a la 7th grade, but we were in this nasty little bar in Seaside Heights, of all places. I mean, Seaside is just not my ideal Shore location. And it's wintertime, so there were only locals in the place. And let me tell you, I don't think the natives were all that friendly. It was one of those situations where it took me a good half hour to figure out that the reason why people kept looking at me funny was because I was the only person of color in the place. *Cue movie clip from "Undercover Brother": I see white people!* Anyway, back to the whole "blind date" part of this whole debacle. The guy, well, he was

i'm not going into detail over what happened last night. all i can say is that i just got home and out of the shower a half hour ago. it's 7pm on sunday. my away message: acting like you're 16 when you're really 22 is never a good thing. i believe in miracles: i'm alive, and as of this moment I have not been kicked out of my house. i've been forced to think about a lot of things. and i know now that i'm finally ready to grow the hell up so i can move out of my house and really do what i want to do with my life. it's not going to be easy or fun at all, but i have to make it happen. i am not going to waste my youth pissing about and realizing 30 years from now that i never followed my dreams. whenever i really need to pull through and make things happen, I do. it's time to do it again. there's nothing like a near-death experience to make you put your life back on track. and don't worry, i didn't have some crazy born ag

so i came home at 3am last night after working in the city. i neglected to call home and let my parents know that i would be late. was it a stupid thing to do? maybe. but i'm sick of having to check in all the time. and i was probably too tipsy to call home and sound normal. the result has been an angry voice mail from my mom that i recieved at 2:25 in the morning, and a completely silent house all day. i think both parentals are pissed. and for some strange reason, i really don't care. i'm starting to figure out some plans for what i'm doing for the next few months, and if everything works out, i'll be finally getting the hell out of my house. so maybe all of this drama is the beginning of the end. it's just a matter of what happens first: my parents kicking me out, or me leaving on my own. in other news, the final night of the show is tonight and there's plenty of festivities to be attending. if i manage to make it out of the house without spea