This feels awkward….

I haven’t blogged in so long. It’s exhausting just thinking about all there is to say since Bronx Mowgli was born….

Obama and Hillary as best frenemies! Britney’s comeback! People getting trampled to death at Wal-Mart!

Blah, blah, blah. I actually had an incredibly wonderful week in New York City, but am far too tired right now to write about it. This is because I started working this morning at a coffee shop. A natural born barista, I am not.  But I figure within a few weeks I’ll get the hang of it. Plus, earning minimum wage is really fun. I totally love it. Who cares if I already burned my finger on the milk steamer foamer machine already! Everyone knows actors have to struggle. Jewel used to sleep in a van for Christs sake.

Yeah, acting class last night was sort of brutal. I stank up the joint with my Bonnie Hunt in Jerry Maguire impression. But I had been on the f-ing Bolt Bus for six hours getting to Boston, and there was no internet access, so you can imagine what kind of mood I was in. The whole point of the Bolt Bus is that you get free wireless. So I wasn’t happy, yes, but some people were really flipping out about it. And the bus driver was all up on his microphone saying “there’s nothing I can do, maybe call and get a free ride” (YEAH OKAY DUDE) and everyone around me was huffing and puffing and blowing their lap tops down. Don’t even get me started on the insane cattle herd process of getting on the bus. People are f-ing crazy. I hate them, actually. A seat on the Bolt Bus is a mother f-ing seat on the Bolt Bus. But everyone freaks the hippity hop out, pushing and shoving and flapping their bolt bus printer confirmation sheets in the driver’s face, and there are no lines to actually wait in, so everyone’s cutting and acting like we’re about to get on the last boat to America. I thought we had hit an iceberg or something. It make-a me sick. I stood back against the wall and got on second to last. Ha-ha! I showed those bastards.

After schlepping my suit case from South Station to acting, I had two hours to kill in the lobby of the building. This is when I discovered the photo booth application thinga-ma-jig on my computer. Call my crazy (or dumb), but I hadn’t yet noticed the little device until yesterday. And I’ve had my freakin’ Mac for a year. Whatever. I’m not a geek, okay? I always noticed people putting up those distorted and color block photos of themselves on FaceBook, and had no idea what the hoo-ha was going on. Plus, it seems like sort of a conceited thing to do: take pictures of yourself and all.

But opening up Mac Photo Booth is like opening a can Pringles. There is just no way of stopping once you start. (Wow, my mouth is watering right now. I LOVE PRINGLES.) Plus, everyone that has the photo booth application uses it right? (Or no?)  I don’t know, I’m open about the fact that I practice singing Dixie Chicks karaoke in my room so that I’m prepared the next time my improv class meets up to drink and sing, so I’ll be open about the fact that I spent approx. thirty-eight minutes taking “glow” and “comic” style photos of myself while eating a cosi flat bread sandwich on a bench last night. Life is great.

However in most of the photos I took I look like a man. This disturbs me. My previous acting coach (who I wrote about before) told me I would make “a very pretty boy.” I am fairly certain that in the picture below I bare a striking resemblance to Mick Jagger. But he looks like a woman. So that works out, right?

I have more to write later, specifically about the film MILK, which totally blew my mind and everyone in the world must go see NOW. I know, blah, blah, blah, we all know Sean Penn is a genius. BUT HE IS ACTUALLY A GENIUS.

Also, I ran into Philip Seymour Hoffman on Bleecker at approx. 10:30 a.m. EST, on November 26th. He was laughing and talking loudly with a friend and looking as sloppy and wonderful as I imagine him in my dreams. I actually pooped my pants as we passed one another.

And lastly, I plan to right a treatise about how the people who f-ing crinkle their food wrappers loudly in movies or Broadway plays, or who can’t keep their 21st Century A.D.D. in control and so must look at their iPhone every fifteen minutes and blind me with the screen and RUIN THE SUSPENSION OF DISBELIEF REQUIRED IN A PLAY or who keep uttering “wow” and “ohmygod” loudly as something tense is about to happen on screen-THEY SHOULD ALL DIE.

Time for nap.