Unfortunate but true.

No matter how smart or creative or funny I am, it will never be as good as being thin and pretty. Even now, at my thinnest ever, I still feel the sting of this particular fact of life. I can't wait to go to work tomorrow and watch the thin and pretty girls get things handed to them. Yay.

kyle the girl
(on iPhone)

Hey, Jealousy

There's this girl who works on my job. She's nice, but more importantly she's pretty. I can't help but notice that she gets an overwhelming amount of "friendly" attention from the guys around, including my boss. I'm nice. But I'm just not as pretty, I guess, because I'm lucky if they talk to me at all.

I'm totally infatuated with this 22 year old boy, and I REALLY notice when it's he paying that attention and then totally passing me by. We kissed one night, drunk in his hotel room. He totally freaked out about my age. He thinks I'm old. That makes me feel old. That I'm totally infatuated with him makes me feel stupid. That he's not infatuated back makes me feel rejected.

I have a date tomorrow with a detective named Kevin. I don't know what he detects. I'm not feeling well. I hope I feel better so I can wow him with my awesomeness. I hope I don't spend the entire time thinking about the 22 year old boy. Or Thinky Face. I suspect I'll probably think of both fleetingly.

I hope Halloween comes quick so I can get on another job without that boy. I hope I find enough time to not be excluded from the dance troupe understudy thing anymore. I hope I can come to terms with the things that aren't right in my heart (and secretly also hope to lose another fifteen pounds) so that I can be the pretty girl one day. I hope my chance for that isn't slipping away. I'm turning 29 in 10 days...

kyle the girl
(on iPhone)

This pretty much sums up my weekend.

Exhausted and cuddling with Peanut. That's how I spent this weekend in Ohio, and I couldn't have asked for a better time. I love that little dude so much! He's, like, the cutest, most amazingly fun, most super awesome thing that ever happened to this planet.

It's weird to me that people kept asking me, "so what do you think of him?" Duh. He's my sister's kid. What do you think I think of him?

Given my long history of not wanting children of my own, it felt almost accusatory when this was said to me. As if the real meaning of the question was "Don't you want to have kids now? See? Didn't you change your mind just like we told you a thousand times?"

I hate when people tell me I'll change my mind about this. As if they know better than me what is good and right for me. As if there is something wrong with a woman who doesn't want to be pregnant. As if my life cannot be complete without a man/baby/domestic lifestlye/"real" job/suburban home/what-have-you. My family is really quite excellent at getting that idea across to me in the subtext of every conversation we have.

The awesomely ironic part is that my sister, who is now a stay-at-home suburban wife and mom, taught me the core principles and values that made me feel okay with being different and not wanting those things for myself. I thank my lucky stars every day that I had a role model for that--those same core principles are why I refuse to settle for a life that doesn't make me happy! I'm really proud of Salty for dumping her stupid corpo lawyer job when it didn't make her happy...she's stay-at-home-momming for all the right reasons. Hopefully she'll find the right kind of job that allows her to better balance motherhood and lawyerladyism and championing.

And sure, maybe someday I'll change, but that day is not today, nor is it in the forseeable future. So the answer to the question is no: I still love kids, but still don't want one. In fact, Peanut makes me want to have kids even less - it's so much work just to keep him entertained! Not that I wasn't up to the challenge, but now at the end of my visit I am one tired auntie!

That's not to say I'd complain if Salty had another one...or two...

I told you I'd be back...now go read the Stimulus Bill.

So I'm just gonna start putting every random thought on my blog now. Thanks to T.R Slyder of Where Awesome Happens. You're an inspiration to me, boo.

So anyway, go here and look at this. It's an NPR spot I heard on the Brian Lerher Show this morning about this guy, Steve Coll, who is reading the entire Stimulous Bill and blogging his thoughts about it. I haven't had a chance to look at it more than briefly yet, but I plan to check it out in further detail during some downtime that I hope will happen this evening.

At least that's how I plan to distract myself from all the stupid worries about girly crap that are running through my head lately!

What is attractive about this man?

Really, what is?

I had a really great ongoing discussion with my sidekicks today about what they find attractive about men and what makes them physically attracted to any particular one over any particular other.

The photo is arbitrary; I just pulled it from Flickr. Personally he doesn't do it for me. I like his hat...it's kinda cool. But what's with the losery-looking shorts? I hate shorts, by the way. I don't really agree with them as a matter of course. Also his t-shirt is too big for him and makes him look kinda dumpy. I mean, he probably doesn't care...it looks like he's at some sort of hot sweaty music festival or something and he really just wants to get across to the grandstand so he can see Joe's Band play or whatever. But really the point here is that I don't know anything about him, so how can I possibly find him attractive? Someone did, as evidenced by the tags on this flickr photo.

The Heartwarmer says she knows right away when she sees a man if she is attracted to him. The Starlet says she automatically assumes there will be no requisition of any attraction, so she sort of blocks herself from getting attracted.

Me, I don't know. Clothes aside, I guess this dude is okay. I mean, if he came up to me and struck up a conversation I'd probably talk to him for a little while. He'd have to smile and make a joke though, because that is something I find attractive. He'd have to have a nice voice. He'd have to admit that his shorts are ridiculous. He'd have to be polite and charming and all that. But even that isn't enough.

There's that...je ne sais quoi. Now that's hot.

I drew this on my Bamboo.

I have one of these. :)

Today I drew this:



Not terrible for my very first effort at computerized artistications. Also not terrible since I can't draw people worth a damn. It was lots of fun too! Of course I thought about my friend who is an aerialist when I started drawing, although I don't think she ever wears tutus.

Superhero: A video just for you.

Sadly, Superhero is not quite as exciting as its name makes it out to be, but please enjoy it nonetheless.


Superhero from kyle the girl on Vimeo.


Here's the link to that guest post at Schmult. Also, as I promise in the video, I give to thee the after and after pictures of my haircut. The first one is after the girl at the salon did it. The second one is after I did it. Seriously, why would I ever want to look like this:



When I could look like this?

Peanut Shell

That's Salty's baby bump! It moves and wiggles!


I'm helping put on her baby shower tomorrow and hopefully everything will go off without a hitch! It's become much more of a big deal than I ever thought it would be, but I guess that's good. I have some mixed feelings about it though.

It's wonderful that my sister gets big, beautiful parties for her life choices (like wedding showers and baby showers and stuff). Really, it's wonderful. I would throw parties for Salty three times a month just because she's the best sister ever. But sometimes I feel like I get the shaft because my life choices involved turning tail and running away from the man I was about to marry. I don't ever want to have children. I take on New York City instead of staying close to home. God forbid I should start dating another woman...I'd lose any inkling of hope for parties and stuff.

Auntie R (Aunt J's wife, for all intents and purposes) was really touched that I introduced her to people with the moniker of "Aunt R--" but why wouldn't I? Aren't all my uncles' wives my aunts? Aren't all my Aunts' husbands my uncles?

It made me think about my life choices. I know these things are better for me. I know they are my choices. But I can't help feel like it isn't fair that our culture would have encouraged me to get married to JH instead of leaving him. It would have encouraged me to have his children even though I don't want to procreate. That culture is the reason I stayed with him as long as I did. I thought I had to try...I thought that making a home and a family was going to make me happy.

God, I was such an idiot.

I've been incredibly busy at work. All my other spare time of late has been wrapped up trying to move, which is at least a part-time job. I live an eight hours' drive away, for heaven's sake! I have great excuses for not putting much effort into this baby shower, but I still feel like I've been dragging my feet on it because I feel a little offended by the whole cultural-encouragement-of-marriage-and-family thing.

I regret it. I do. It's not fair to Salty or to Mom--both of whom put in a ton of work on this party--and somehow I'm still going to get a lot of the credit. And two not-fairs don't make an are-fair. Or something.


Wow, that does not make much sense. But hey, at least I wrote a real post about something really real! And at least I wrote it not a week after it happened!

The Port O' Call came to Brooklyn!

My friends Alabama Slamma and Uptown Girl came to visit New York this weekend to see Radiohead at the All Points West festival and to take in the sights a bit. It was so good to have a little slice of my old NOLA scene come see me here in the King of Boroughs.

Uptown Girl and I share a best friend in New Orleans and have always gotten along almost better than we do with her, since of takes a particular kind of person to put up with her idiosynchrasies. Shortly before I left my old life behind I spent two magical days on the beach in Gulf Shores, Alabama with said best friend and the two dear ones who are now staying a stone's throw away in Queens.

Short as it was, that vacation was the most fun I had had in years. The three of them had gone on a whim and invited me, but I declined in deference to my work ethic. The same Sunday night they left I had one of a series of massive fights with JH. I had to get the hell out of there, so I hopped in my car without telling him where I was going and drove until I got there, leaving a voice mail with my boss to say I was taking a personal day.

Four hours later I pulled my little Nissan into the parking lot of a shady little hotel across the street from the beach, my cheeks still stained from salty tears. I was welcomed by the girls with open arms and no questions asked. Uptown Girl poured some combination of liquor and juice into an impossibly tall plastic cup and we retired to the beach.

For the next day and a half we spoke almost exclusively in ridiculous Alabama Twang. We bitched about the men in our lives, played drinking games like it was going out of style and flirted with teenaged boys on the beach. We barely swam, much preferring the sun to the surf. Although I never really talked about it with the other girls, I decided then that it was over between me and JH. I realized that I would be far better off without him. I knew I had to follow my dream and come to New York.

Uptown doesn't know it (and may never) but it was her example of inependence and self assuredness that made me realize I could do it. And for her to be here now and see me thriving and happy.... Well I can't think of one person from my old life that I'd rather see!

The little picture is dark, but it's all I got, and I'm okay with that. The night was so dark and drizzly, it captures the mood pretty well.

I hope I'll always be a little girl on the inside.

Payroll and I went to see Wall-E tonight. We bought tickets from a scalper.

I liked it so much! I know it's silly but I cried in the middle and at the end. Sometimes I feel like I've been alone for 700 years, trying to make sense of all the strange things around me.

Most people act like I'm strange for liking cartoons so much. PDF outright says he thinks it's stupid. JH always yelled at me for watching Foster's at every opportunity. My mom teases me about it. I could tell that Payroll thought it was kind of funny that I wanted to go see that particular movie so bad. I could tell she was indulging me. She liked it quite a lot too though, and thanked me for begging her to come.

I can't believe I cried at two little robots dancing around in space! I'm such a girl sometimes.

I'm wearing my Pippi Longstocking tee shirt today too. I don't know why but I think that's significant to this post.

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Update: I'm not the only one! The folks over at Geekanerd are all in love with Wall-E too! They even traced the design lineage for some of the characters! Check it out here.

Breaking Up the Stag Party

Guys have life a little easier in a lot of ways. And, very often, I find myself frustrated with the nagging feeling that my gender is holding me back. If I were a guy I could be funnier. If I were a guy it would be easier to find a decent paying skilled labor job instead of temping. If I were a guy my body type wouldn't affect people's impressions of me as much. I realize this sounds like I am using gender as a convenient scapegoat for my problems. I am. Because it is. It affects me adversely, and I resent it. So there.

This issue is coming to a head today for me because I think I have decided what career track I'd like to pursue. It's not an easy one, but given my history as a photographer, affinity for dorky technical crap, and cavalier attitude it is kind of a predictable one. My inflated self-importance alone (you know you love me) might actually qualify me for membership in the Local 600 (ba-dum-bump!). I wanna work in camera!

Now this sure enough isn't 100%. I don't know if I will like it if I actually try it...but I do want to try.

Here's where the guy thing comes in. I feel like--by virtue of being an emotional girl who likes skirts and long hair and lip gloss--it will be extra hard to find my place in the boys club that is the camera department. They are as notorious for their chauvanistic egos as they are for their technical knowledge. To work in camera you have to be strong--literally. You must be able to carry around equipment that is delicate, expensive, and very heavy. Less upper body strength because of gender is not an excuse--you must be strong enough to do the job. You cannot be clumsy. You cannot mess up. Shooting on film costs an extravagant amount of money; if the camera department messes up, everyone has a setback.

You can't make a motion picture without pictures, so yeah, they're cocky. I don't blame them one bit. What they do is so cool.

Here are my hangups:

• I don't really want to be a D.P., which is the head of camera and pretty much the desired end of that career track for most people.
• I am kind of a klutz, and when I'm nervous (like, say, about loading wrong and wasting hundreds of feet of film and tons of time and buckets of money) it gets worse.
  
• I cry sometimes and I like dressing pretty; I can't really do either of those things if I want to be taken seriously and work in the camera department.
  
• I may have to give up socializing with people, except for people I'm working with. This includes dating, which is hard enough as it is.
  
• I will probably have to continue getting paid the same crappy wage I'm making now for some time before I can get a job as a loader. This sucks because I would like to be able to afford a decent apartment someday.
  
• Although I will learn lots of things that could help me with my Big Idea, I probably will not have the time or energy to pursue the Big Idea. And the Big Idea is probably my best shot at any kind of fame or fortune, however limited.
  
• If I try and decide I don't want to keep doing it I can try something else, but how much time will I have wasted then?
  
• If I try it and switch to something else I will always feel like I couldn't hack it.
• If I try it and switch to something else other people will probably think I couldn't hack it.

Yeah yeah, I know what you're thinking. You think it doesn't matter what other people think. You know what? You're wrong! This business is all about what other people think! In fact, just getting a job relies almost exclusively on other people thinking you're really good at the thing you want to do. So it does matter. It totally does.

So the next step? Get on set. Start nosing around a little. Get on set. Talk to people. Get on set.

I'm working on it...!