???
Tonight is my first night cat sitting in
Today he informed me he was holding a party- a twenty-first birthday party.
"I'm assuming this is for your son..." (I was going to continue and state something along the lines of "or are you just being a sugar daddy for a young boy") However he cut me off with:
"No, not my son- there are going to be about 35 20-23 year olds, all in suits and ties. Just wait... all good looking! Once you see them all you will wish you were staying in
He laughed.
I was stunned.
Mr. Q= young, gay birthday bash??
I probed because Mr. Q is too stupid to be gay.
"Who exactly is this for?"
It turns out it is for his friend's nephew's 21st birthday party. This seemed equally puzzling. When I turned 21 I hit up the bottle, some friends, and a club. Calling my uncle to go out on the town with his near 50-year-old friend wasn't the evening I would have considered.
At a relatively early hour of five men and boys started to descend upon my house. I believe I stated this when Mr. Q held his earlier party, but an all male party is just dangerous and somewhat scary (especially this type) so I retired to my bedroom to pack for my next house sitting adventure.
(WHO TURNS 21 AND HAS AN ALL DUDE PARTY?!?!)
Skip to 6 o'clock. I am on the phone with a director in New York trying to get my first design job so I can hit the ground running when I move (which I received- my first musical, my first period piece, and my largest budget to date!) In the middle of this very passionate director speaking of some transcendental truth in the script, I hear a slight movement at my door (which is off the garage, off the main house). Assuming it is Gus trying to get away from the ruckus I quickly open my door. Two 50-year-old males look up at me like dear in headlights. Holding up one of my folders for work (kept outside my door) they state, "Sorry we woke you." (Remember it is 6pm, I am fully in day apparel, and talking on the phone). It is then I realize these men are SNORTING COKE AT SIX PM AT A TWENTY-FIRST BIRTHDAY PARTY OUTSIDE MY DOOR ON MY FOLDER FOR WORK.
Unbelievable.
So now I am in
brett favre is hot
Thinking about moving to
In other news, documentaries are dangerous for me. I give the following examples:
1) When I watched When the Levees Broke I signed up to volunteer in
2) I watched Naked States a couple years ago. Claire reminded me of it when I was in New York, and I signed up to participate in Spencer Tunick's naked photography
3) Yesterday I watched Rosie O'Donnell's doc on her gay cruise. No I didn't not discover I was gay, but I was incredibly touched. I actually cried. (I was also wonderfully surprised to see the cute, freckly girl who was on MTV True Life: I have Gay Parents)
I really want to get a video camera and tape people. I'm not sure about what, but people are fascinating to me.
Seasons Greetings
Hello Dear Friends:
I hope the year has blessed you and your family as it has me and mine. How quickly the year has passed! And with so many changes!
As a Manifest Destiny Advocate, I have moved to the West to start my own school for children focusing on the benefits of expansion. Lessons range from "Forge vs. Caulk the Wagon and Float" and the controversial, but I believe informative culinary course, "Donner Dinners".
Sadly, dedicating my life to the program had its effects on my own family. My fatty kids added too much weight to the wagon on the journey over; thankfully it worked itself out in the end. Billy died of dysentery, a real mess to clean up if you haven't experienced it. Thankfully that stain is all that's left of him. He couldn't shoot buffalo to save his life- said they were "too super cute." Plus, he was miserable at picking berries because he said they would stain his D&G suits. Once he was off my hands I decided to leave May at a private boarding school. I told her to do what's best and strive for the M.R.S. degree. "Find the boy who wants to be a doctor and doesn't hit you too often…" I shouted my parting words of advice as the wagon headed into the dusty sunset.
It is true; the West is the land of fortune and prosperity. I found a great trading post near the
Really wish you could all be here.
Love from the Wild West and Happy Holidays!
For full photo shoot please view on facebook account :)
maybe this is why i've missed more flights than made?
Every time I am to board a plane I feel impending doom, and it takes me hours upon hours upon hours to pack.
Tonight is no exception.
For a girl with no home for quite some time, I surprisingly hate hate hate packing. You would think I would get used to it by now.
Not true. Not true at all.
My Everyman Speech
Current mood: disheartened
Yesterday I was in the middle of watching Spike Lee's "When the Levees Broke," and in the middle of act two I became completely nauseous.
What the hell are we doing?
I am sick of our nation's complete disregard for the lower economic class- from lack of health care to our poor and young fighting the wars of wealthy men (as it always is, nevertheless it makes me sick).
In terms of
I am distraught at the path our country has chosen and am ashamed of the actions (of lack there of) that took place in terms of dealing with the devastation of Katrina. I am also sick and tired of our culture and jaded lack of passion, especially in my generation, which should be pushing for change instead of settling into the system. Do we give up so easily? It is practically looked down upon to have flight of fancy ideals.
Idealism is dead, but is this really where that leaves us? Powerless?
And as we squeeze the middle class is anyone with power looking to the past and realizing there has been a bit of a pattern occurring for… oh... practically the history of history that shows the dangers of such a societal structure. Revolutions start when a great many people have no choice and nothing to lose. I'm not saying we are near revolution, but if we continue to push the few to stratospheres of wealth, squeeze out the middle, and don't give two shits about the poor, well then I guarantee it. You can dangle the carrot of "even you can have The American Dream" to the poor for only so much time before people will realize it is a facade.
And maybe Thomas Carlyle is right. Everyone discounting the few, powerful "great men" is expendable in the story of history, and then who the hell really cares anyway. I personally believe it is told in part by the Hitlers, Martin Luther Kings, and the like. But without a great many people, common people, behind the "greats," another story would be told.
Regardless I'm putting my money where my mouth is and going down to New Orleans in February for a week or so to help out as much as I can. It's not much but at least it is something. If anyone is interested let me know.
now for a professional
The ironic thing is that my hair looks very much like how it looked when I chopped it with my kitchen scissors last summer. Part of this is because I'm a natural hairdresser as proven by a cutting technique I used-twist and snip- the very same as the PROFESSIONAL STYLIST used today. Obviously, I naturally felt the way my hair should be cut.
Yes, it is better. Yes, I have those cute little baby- wispy bangs. Yes, it is much more even, and I got a great styling product to boot. However, it is very close to the same idea as my very free, very gratifying kitchen experience.
Regardless I love it. I feel very tussled bed-head.
Photos:
bennett's latest blog
bye bye birdie
where are my glasses?
I'm getting old friends, very old.
Excited?
Just Won't Quit
More adventures with Mr. Q:
When Brent came over for Thanksgiving, Mr. Q came home. After warning him of the "huge mess" in the kitchen I proceeded to introduce him to the man sitting at his table that he has never met.
"This is my friend Brent."
"Speaking of huge, take a look at these babies!" (said in a "how cool am I" tone)
He was referencing the three enormous ENORMUS bottles of Grey Goose in his arms.
He never did introduce himself to Brent.
Yesterday he went to the movies with his son and saw James Bond. Upon arriving home from the film he said it was good but James did something that he would "never never do."
"Oh- what was that?" I said.. falling for the trap.
"He said 'I love you'- can you believe that? James would NEVER NEVER say that. That's not James Bond."
He was so disgusted.
And these are the times that specifically make me long to live in the co-op.
The Real (?) World
In my continuation of reality TV blogs I must state that the first episode of The Real World Denver is one of the finest examples of why the first reality TV show is still the best. I think this takes the cake for the best all around episode to leave the MTV editing room as well. Drama at every corner: betrayal, a perfectly timed pizza, a Baptist, a gay, a three way kiss. Must see TV.
SCANDAL!
Black Friday
I received the best news yesterday; I am going to be in a wedding!! My cousin asked me to be her bridesmaid. I am incredibly excited. She definitely fulfills the ever-important status as "favorite cousin". When she got engaged I told my sister with hope, "I might have a chance to be in this one!" Well yes indeed. The best part is the dress requirement is "black cocktail," which is nice- lends itself to wearablity to other occasions. (I teased her that I am going to have her in my wedding and force the bridesmaids to wear lavender poof-sleeve cupcake shaped dress.)
Have fun future bridesmaids of Erin Schultz.
Today I am going to the evening hours of Black Friday to get a new bra from Vic's Secret along with a free tote filled with goodies. Got to love a good deal, and they have to give me something if I'm spending 50 bucks on boob support.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Yesterday I was home alone in my pajamas, Gus sleeping soundly near my bed. It was 9:30 pm on a rainy Wednesday. WEDNESDAY.
Suddenly the doorbell rings. Now because Mr. Q cannot deal with his life and pays people to do it for him I assume it's the regular routine that has been happening lately: he has forgotten his keys and hasn't paid anyone to replace the batteries in his garage door opener so it doesn't work. I go to the garage door and open it for him.
A strange car and a strange man in is the driveway, "I dropped off three drunks at your door."
I go to the front door trying to figure out that the hell is going on and two old drunk men in their fifties barge in, Mr. Q falling in from behind. Now when I say "barge" I really mean "topple" because they are so drunk they can't walk. They are soaking wet from head to toe and pretty much do not acknowledge me. I see one man prying Gus's poor little mouth open and blowing inside as I am trying to figure out if the car is supposed to go in or out of the garage and if the man is with Bruce. He is not. He is a rented driver that is to wait until they are done parting to bring the others home. Bruce is slurring to the driver and trying to make since of his intoxicated world; as this is going on (the garage door open) approximately 7 other guys come in through the garage... all trashed. I realized that these are Mr. Q's son's friends, college age. They have been parting together. They look like they are waiting for more to show up. I know there is nothing worse than a group of drunk men, so I determine at this point the best thing to do is lock myself in my room.
The party seems to die down around 1:00, at which point a drunken Mr. Q seems to be looking for Gus. This leads him to my room. (?) After I ignore his initial knocking he attempts to ENTER MY ROOM. (Thank God I have the door locked). Finally I tell him Gus is not in here and 15 sec later I hear him leave, in doing so he slurs, "Soooorry, Errrrinnn."
I wake up today and find the kitchen in ruins. There is broken glass on the floor with green olives spilt around, 20 martini glasses filling the sink, beer bottles everywhere. Gus must have found a stick from outside because there is wood bits everywhere.
My life is so wonderful when Mr. Q isn't here. It's pretty much hell when he is. Re: see above.
Last Image of Summer Camp
The Opera: A Very Serious Place
Oh, the Opera!! The characters, the costumes, the pretence! And this just the audience.
Brent and I volunteered to usher Manon Lescaut at the San Francisco Opera. The perks included seeing the show for free and excellent people watching opportunities. I cannot put into blog words how absurd the audience was.
Most (I would say at least 95%) of the crowd was over 65, not an age group I have been around in... well... since church in Redwood. These women were battling time with everything they got, which included cake makeup and stilettos which they hobbled upon; sequence and color splashed upon their outfits in their attempts to shine even if the glow in their skin had long since gone out. These men and women weren't your nice Grandmerry types. These were rich bitches that were used to living a certain way, treated a certain way, for many years. Everyone was walking around with a "do you know who I am" attitude. I actually saw a woman scoff at a fellow audience member as she apologized for accidentally brushing against her.
Most of the fellow ushers possessed the same attitude; one could smell the stink of death and pretence on them as well.
One elderly usher woman was especially "helpful". While standing in line before sitting down she instructed me to keep the stairway clear, then told a women who was briefly speaking to her friend ahead in line where the back of the line was, told me to sit down, told me to wait to sit until the lights dimmed, etc. etc. etc.
As we were leaving for the first intermission she told me my shoes "weren't allowed". (They recommend not wearing stilettos for comfort; I was wearing a 1½.. heal. She also said that I could fall on the slippery, marble floor with them. I'm not sure if she noticed the 85 year olds in fabulous Blahniks, but I'd put money that I could handle hooker shoes on any surface they were safely crossing. She also stated that I was "tall enough" without them. Okay. I wasn't bothered by the bossiness before, but I got a little irked when an ill-dressed short woman made comments about a part of my ensemble.
At the beginning of the second act a fellow usher took one of the seats that Brent and I were sitting in, in the previous act, thus causing us to have to split up, which would have been totally fine. But no- the woman came from three rows behind to kick her out of the seat all the while Brent and I pleading with her that it was okay. Embarrassed, I mouthed, "I'm sorry" from behind my program as the women left now our seats.
As I stood by the door saying goodnight to patrons she let Brent and I know to get closer to the door so that they could really see and hear us. I moved three inches closer to the door but could not move any closer or I would be blocking it.
This woman was my hell. I hate people who follow the rules so strictly. I hate people who take everything so damn seriously. I feel like everything should be a guideline, anything beyond that just makes me uncomfortable. I suppose that's why I'm a big ole liberal.
Anyway, the opera itself was really, really great, and I can't wait to do it again.
Touch the Sky
New Work
I updated my work on shutterfly. Check out what I've been doing on in the theatrical world: http://erinbschultz.shutterfly.com
Nov. 5, 1:51 AM thoughts
As I watch the Saddam sentencing I can only think of one thing...my dad looks a whole lot like Saddam Hussein and Tom Selleck.
Gus ate my only pair of comfortable heels. This is a priceless loss indeed.
My first professional show closed today. The after party was quite fun, and I am quite sad.
I am sleeping an INSANE AMOUNT. Something is truly wrong with me.
I miss my mom.
That is all.
wood tick tumor
On Tuesday Mr. Q brought Gus home with a "tick" in his ear, a big fat tick. This scared him. I know this because it was Halloween and one of the only nights that all three of the sick family (Mr. Q, his girlfriend, and me) was home together in the kitchen. (I had to eat before hitting the streets in attempts of dodging bullets). To correct this "situation" he had made an appointment to go to the vet to take off the tick. The appointment was on Thursday. He was going to wait two days and pay ??? to take a WOODTICK OFF A DOG.
As the girlfriend and Mr. Q talked about how gross it was and my initial disgust (about the owner) dispensed, I piped in, "I'll do it.. come here Gusser"
I love this dog! And come on people.. it's just a wood tick. Growing up in
So this bloody "tick" comes off without a hitch. I didn't think about it again.
Until today.
Bruce brought Gus home from the vet and it was not a tick. It was a TUMOR. I pulled a TUMOR off a dog. *Pluck!* Gone. What??? I'm not kidding. So the tumor was benign, which is good. But watch out people, I'm tough. Tear off your tumor tough.
Bang Bang Happy Halloween
Flavor of Love
Current mood: WWWHHHHHhhhhhhaaattt?!?
Please, do everything in your power to see this shit. It's nuts.
Twenty bitches just tried to storm the stage and beat up "
Lovely.
black kettle
Mr. Q was home for an afternoon (one of the first times since I have moved in). He asked me to "take care of his breakfast dishes".
Some clean up was part of the deal. Fine.
I decided to come up with some small talk (as I do) and delved into my phone situation. I gave him my new cell phone number earlier and began to tell him of my disappointed because I was now forced off my family's cell phone plan.
"Well, you're an adult now.. you have to start acting like one."
He laughed.
I continued to wash the grown man's dishes.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Crispin Glover: What the F is It?
what's up with me
I do know I will need to get my MFA to really make the contacts I need, which is why I'm looking into grad school for next year with NYU being my first choice.
My mom also came to visit last week. She is always a great person to be around, and I wish I could live closer sometimes (if only she didn't live in a cultural void). It was very "girls week" with spa visits, shopping, and an evening dinner at Canteen. (Canteen is a small restaurant that seats around fifteen. There is one chef who shops for ingredients and then with the help of a sous chief, waitress, and bartender, serve the most delicious food I have ever tasted. It's mind-blowing-good good.)
I also got a "regular job" which begins on Monday. I am the PR/Event Assistant for the Academy of Art University planning gallery events, opening weekend for the students, graduation, and an artist exchange with Japanese students, a Christmas party, etc. I will be working 20 hr/ week, which will allow me to continue to focus on design, but know I will be getting a bit of an income to pay off student loans. It will also be a good excuse to actually be on a schedule, which I have not been on in some time.
My phone is gone (bottom of pond gone.. these are the risks that are involved when you watch a dog. I was throwing a stick to Gus and my phone flung out of my hoodie pocket and into the pond at the
jobby job
I have been applying for traditional employment for the past couple months. I must admit I have been a bit picky and not really putting much heart into it (especially with the whole no living expenses deal). I think I have finally determined that I need a job that is either 1) part time or 2) requires no work or thought from me so I can work on my freelance things during the pay job.
I thought I had found an awesome balance when I interviewed for an architectural/interior firm. I was to be their receptionist, which meant I could work on sketches, research, read, anything during my time there all while getting a salary with benefits. Great. My first interview went very well. I found out from my placement agency that I was working with that only two people were called in for a second interview.
My second interview was the best of my life. We talked about design, concepts, people interacting with the space around them, Project Runway. There was no was I wasn..t getting this job. That is until later that day my Jessica (my placement agent) called. I could tell right away that I didn..t get it. (I thought for a moment she was one of those people who are tricky. [solemn start] "
And the reason for not getting hired? ..They think you are over qualified for the position. They check with their creative team to see if there was room for you, but they don..t think they have anything for you...
OVER EXPERIANCED... That is what I..m looking for, a dumbass job where I can do my own design work. If I..m not going to be able to do exactly what I want and make a salary, I might as well be working at a place where I put forth no effort so I can have time to do what I want. I guess they thought I wouldn..t stay because I would get bored.
I felt trick- I mean they were the ones that brought up design, leadership, etc. I just answered the questions. Next time I am going to dumb it up-
"Where do you see yourself in five years?"
"Right here answering your telephone, sir"
my doggie
I also felt what it..s like to go grocery shopping and not worry what the bill will be. I have upgraded from mac and cheese to organic veggies and pita chips. I love this.
I should state that I am in love with Gus (the puppy). He is adorable and follows me everywhere in the house. I tried to get a good photo of him but it was hard because he was too excited by the camera and wanted to get close enough to eat it. Will I become one of those ..pet mommies.. that are horrible and gooy with their pets? More than likely yes.
I am a kept woman
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