I think I'm moving my money.

Chase screwed me this week with a fee...AGAIN. They screwed me and then refused to make up for what they admitted was their mistake.

I'm fed up with big banks treating me like crap. When I was a student at Wright State I never had problems like this with my credit union! So I'm in the market for a credit union, or maybe even just a local bank. The ATM fees well really only cause me to have to be better prepared with cash, which isn't such a bad thing.

Chase can suck it. I no longer want to be one of the reasons the big banks are 'too big to fail.' I'm voting with my dollars. And I'm voting for George, not for Mr. Potter.

West Village Jag

After Football Sunday I walked Banana halfway home, but left her at Perry Street so I could head down to pick up mail for a former boss of mine who took a sudden gig out of state. I'd agreed to do it because I like him and wanted to be nice. I knew his place was in the West Village, totally out of my way, but he offered to throw me a couple bucks for my trouble, so no problem.

I walked over, passing a group of fashionable women who were younger than me and sneered at my pigtails. Whatever. I passed a few nice places where well-dressed and finely-heeled people were hanging out outside in the warm remnants of summer air. I heard them laughing and clinking their glasses. I suddenly felt fat and plebeian in my thin t-shirt and my hand-me-down bellbottom jeans hemmed with safety pins. When I got to Boss's door it was like heaven when I turned the key in the lock. It was like vindication as the snobby girls passed behind me. As I slipped through the vestibule door and approached the mailboxes I tried to pretend for a blissful moment that it was my building, but then I realized I didn't know which mailbox I was seeking.

I figured it out, grabbed the mail hurriedly and turned on my heel, leaving as quickly as I had come in. As I walked back toward the subway a fancy car honked at me while I was crossing the street. A gaggle of well-dressed people from some fashionable bar stopped laughing with each other and looked over, their faces disapproving if nothing else. I rushed past them, trying to look nondescript despite sticking out like a sore thumb in bright pink and pigtails and silly-looking sneakers. I nearly tripped on the leash of some tiny, fashionable dog and its owner kindly apologized, but his gentle tone only made me feel more out of place, like these people were somehow better than me.

The image of the street became fuzzy behind my tears. I've been doing really well, and it's been a while since I've cried about anything at all, but point blank, this place and the people in it made me feel poor and worthless.

I thought about the $2500 I need to pay the lawyer to get rid of my house. I thought about the $2000 I still have in credit card debt, my glasses that need fixing and that I have to move next July. I remembered that I need to have my teeth cleaned and looked at by a dentist. I thought about the health insurance I can't afford and the pain that starts in my knees whenever I run more than five miles. I thought about how one of those fashionable outfits could pay for a much-needed trip to see my mom and sister, and how I can't possibly afford to leave anyway because I have to be here in case there is even one day of work for me. Worst of all I thought about how I can't afford a therapist to help me feel less like I never had a chance. Well...I could, but not one that can see me during hours that fit in my bizarro work schedule.

I resented those people. I know they all make sacrifices to get where they are, but I also know that many of them just happened to have more to sacrifice than I did. I know it's a cheap, easy shot, but I couldn't help thinking that at least most of them must have dads, and I resented that too.

As I walked up Seventh Avenue I felt quite positive that the New York those people enjoyed and loved, the New York I wish so badly I could have, is not within my grasp in any forseeable future. I have made my sacrifices. I chose integrity and romanticism. And now I live in an apartment I am ashamed of with two roommates I love but don't want to live with in a neighborhood I hate, and I cannot begin to imagine how I am going to get myself out.

kyle the girl
(on iPhone, because my laptop is in the computer hospital)

Money makes friendships not-as-good.

So Starlet is moving out. She's going to Boston to live her dream and work toward becoming a veterinarian. Great for her! I'm so happy and proud whenever any of my friends decides to live the dream! Go dreamers!

So today, the day before rent is due, she drops a bomb on me and asks if she can use her deposit as her rent for this, her last month.

Excuse me?

We'd discussed getting the deposit back before - discussed it and said it would come back to her when she moved out, like any deposit. Now she's throwing a fit and saying that since we have a renter for next month it shouldn't be any big deal. She has to pay for her classes. Blah blah.

I need to pay for my LIFE!

I wish I could help her out, but I don't have my rent AND her rent sitting around in a bank account somewhere. I can't just throw money at it and say whatever, I've been pouring every spare dime I have into my credit card debt! If she'd come to me a month ago and told me this was coming I might be able to float her the cash as a favor...but with no notice? I'm not exactly rolling in it, you know? If I was do you think I'd be living in Crown Heights? No! I'd be living in a nice place in Park Slope with roommates who understand that your deposit isn't your last month's rent, it's your DEPOSIT.

Goddammit.

Hearts, stars, unicorns, rainbows, snuggles, kittens, love, friendlies and brick ovens!

I'm in a really good mood today! I think this is not unwholly due to the opportunity to make a buttload more money on the next job, even if it isn't my dream job, even if it's only a few weeks. And I've been working out ideas to help with my goal, and I have a really big lead on making this goal happen. My lead is moving to Austin, Texas this weekend, but he fully plans on coming back this fall to make the movie he wrote, and I'm doing my damnedest to figure out the rest.

Mama Squirrel has this 'manifesting' thing she talks about all the time, and it really works for her. Basically she has an idea of something she wants and then she jabbers about it for a while and then she lets it stew. She's into witchy spiritual stuff so I think there's some of that involved. In my imagination, she makes or finds some little object that represents the thing she wants and then puts it in a little metal box to let it come about. Like baking. I'm not much for spiritual stuff but I like the idea of letting your goals brown in an oven until you're ready for them. So I think I'm gonna find a little box to put stuff in and set it on my windowsill.

kyle the girl
(on iPhone)

The New Big Idea again.

Here it is, folks. Ya ready?

Giant Disco Party.

You heard me, I said disco.


Now I need a few things:

1) A place.

2) A DJ

3) Roller-skating cocktail waitresses

4) A ton of money (sponsors!)

So...anyone have any suggestions for any of those things?

Economic Downturn

I got turned down for a staff job on a big shot movie, which is a little disheartening in my current state of financial crisis. And no, I'm not referring to the fiscal state of the Union; I'm referring to my own problems.

I'm in the midst of a battle: me vs. the evil temp agency, with the NY Department of Labor as mediator and judge. Long story short, this is all a mistake, but in the meantime I'm S.O.L. if I don't get at minimum five more days of work this month. I'm looking into alternatives, including craigslist, disposable odd jobs and other temp agencies, but I'm afraid to take on anything too long, or I'm going to have to bail like I did on my last temp assignment. I have to be available for production work. If I'm serious about changing departments I need all the days and experience I can get, which showed on my first day on a stage, this last Monday. Ouch. There were some serious oops moments.

But, like everyone always says, ya gotta start somewhere. And at least the office experience will make me a rock star someday when they finally let me do paperwork.

Anyway, my test for the DGATP is coming up a week from Saturday, and if I can bring it to the test and the interviews, this job won't matter anyway. And I did get a personal phone call with their decision to pass. And I did volunteer to help them when they need extra staff. And I did take the news well. So there's that.

But I can't help feeling like I want a consolation prize. Like maybe they could refer me to someone with a smaller job? I think I'll call and ask tomorrow. :)


kyle the girl
(on iPhone)

So nice.

I was able to leave the temp job, which was SO nice.

I've been working all week on an insert shoot for a studio movie, which has been so nice.

I interviewed for a set position on a bigger studio movie, which would be so nice.

I saw Slumdog Millionaire, which was...wow. So nice.

I spent way too much money this week, which is not so nice.

I spent all day Sunday at a superbowl party with my Football Sunday Funday pals at 1849, which was so nice.

I've been running a lot, which is so so so so so nice.

I've been a busy girl. It's been so nice.

Skydiving, or, How Do I Afford My Rock 'n Roll Lifestyle

I was buried in a pile of office supplies to inventory and paperwork to update, but I was working on my resume. Payroll plopped herself down on my desk, nibbling on a string cheese. "I want to go skydiving."

I perked up.

My boss, the President, chimed in: "It's fun! Go to SkydivingRanch.com and you can check out the place I go.". The Pres is like the sweetest little woman ever. I'd even describe her demeanor as dainty...and yet she skydives regularly. But that's just her...she surprises me so often with her non-daintiness that I just expect it now. It's part of why I like her so much.

Payroll hopped down and scurried into her office and I popped right in behind her, crouching to read over her shoulder as she browsed the Ranch's website. I was tingly with excitement, knowing that Payroll is just as nutty as I am for extremes. She'd never wuss out on me and she wouldn't let me wuss out on her. This conversation had launched a great moment in my adventurous life. Then I asked.

"How much?"

"$200. Not bad, if you have a job lined up."

We looked at each other and laughed nervously.

"Maybe when we get hired for the next one," I said. I patted her shoulder and slipped out of the room.

Grasping

So.

Friday, after my last post, we were told there was a ray of hope out there. "They" are trying to get us money so we can go ahead with this movie...which is great! Everyone on the crew has agreed that we are all very very proud of working on this film. It's a great script, an awesome cast, an amazing special effects team and construction crew, awesome designers and (of course) a fantastic production team. It has all the makings of a really successful hit movie!

Won't someone please give me $40 million dollars so I can help our writer/director to finish the film?

Hey remember how I was in a last minute roommate crisis? Yeah...

Well the roommate thing, the lease at my new place, the money thing... It all worked out! I am now the proud leaseholder of a big three bedroom apartment in lovely Prospect Heights. As far as the roommate situation, I wound up with a two-for-one kind of deal, finding two sweet girls and sweetening the rent for me!

I’m happy to share my apartment for a little security. Living alone was good, but in the long run I think this will be better, both financially and for my peace of mind. Now if I feel afraid, which I have once or twice, I will at least know there’s someone else there. If I lose my keys I’ll have someone to let me in. If I go away I’ll have someone to feed my cats. Too much independence can be a burden unless you can afford to pay for help. And...well...I chose the high road, so roommates it is. Anyway, my bedroom is practically the size of my old apartment in Lefferts. I measured it out to a full 200 square feet.

I’m happy to report that Thinky Face said she’s only ever seen one “water bug” (whatever) there in four years, which was three years ago, and that the crack it came through had been sealed. I’d also like to brag that I have a real kitchen, not one of those tiny holes in the wall with appliances stuffed inside like sardines. And a living room. And a big bathroom. And I love it.

I also--and this might prove to be the best part--have roof access. So what has been my first order of business upon moving in? Naturally, I ‘m throwing a party! Next Saturday, the 23rd, my roof will be transformed. I hope.

Anyone know where I can rent an LCD projector cheaply?

I'm moving! I hope!

Thinky Face lived in a nice big apartment in Prospect Heights for four
years before she was selected to move in to 80/20 housing. When that
happened I asked if I could take over her lease...no broker fee, no
shitty building that I hate (!), and the potential to lower my rent
like a ton!

We talked to her landlord and got it all set to go; now all I had to
do was find a roommate.

The task proved more difficult than originally expected. I showed and
nobody bit except a pair of girls who are much younger than I'd prefer
to live with. I showed again. Still nobody. It's a nice place. It's
close to the Brooklyn Museum. It has a big kitchen, lots of windows,
and it's very spacious by New York standards. No? No one?

I'm showing again tonight, but move in day is August 10, just five
days away! If I don't find someone tonight I'm going to be out of
luck this time around and I just can't afford another broker fee, even
with a couple months before my lease ends.

Maybe I should become a broker. Then I'd only have to work like two
hours a day for the same money. Dirty parasites.