To Die of Pride in the Snow..

I'm not working because I live in Texas, and there is ice. So, time for a story about Illinois winter adventures:

Its winter, circa 2001 in IL. We live on a country road, five miles from the nearest small town and 30 minutes from the nearest town you can do much of anything in. I'm about 16 or 17. I'm supposed to go to Effingham (the bigger town) to pick my sister's boyfriend up and meet my sister when she gets off work. Its snowing like hell, and they forgot to plow our road. After much debate, my dad decides to let me go, but he tells me that the "law of odds" is going to get me.

I go out to my car, and being afraid that dad will change his mind, I decide to get the hell out of dodge as fast as I can. This is bad, because my defog doesn't really work, and I can't see shit yet, but I take off. I get more or less out of the driveway, and drive straight off the road, because like i said, it hasn't been plowed, and my window is all frosty so I can't see where the road is. The snow is probably ten inches deep. I'm stuck. I'm still within view of the house, so dad can see that I'm stuck. He comes driving out there like an asshole, drives past me, turns around and comes back to where I'm stuck, as if to show me just how easy it is to not get stuck. I can tell already he's mad.

I'm right. He is mad. We dig my car out a bit, and he chains it to his little Dodge Omni and eventually we get it out. He's really pissed about the whole thing, and so as he goes to turn his car around, he's driving like he's pissed off. He puts his car in the ditch. He's stuck. So I bring the Oldsmobile around, we dig, we hook up the tow chain, we get the little car out. He heads straight to the house. I very carefully drive up to the hog barn up the road so I can turn around without incident, and very carefully drive home, hanging my head and thinking about how much it sucks to be stuck at home. The time passed since my initial departure is about an hour and a half at this point.

I reach the driveway. Dad is standing at the end of the sidewalk in front of the house, smoking a cigarette. He watches me pull in. I start to get out of the car.

Dad looks at me like I'm an idiot and says, "I didn't go through all that trouble so you could just turn around and come home. Get the hell out of here."

I leave, this time I have tire tracks as a reference and everything is fine once I reach blacktop highway.

After a few misadventures that night (including getting my sister's car stuck) I head home, by myself, to make midnight curfew. I'm depressed about having to leave when I know the fun is continuing for everyone else. It hasn't stopped snowing all night. As I reach the turn off for our road, it is apparent that the road still hasn't been plowed. The indents from our stuck cars earlier have been completely covered. I have no choice. Curfew is god, I've got to go down that road.

About a quarter mile from the house, my car comes to a stop. I'm stuck... on the road. I get out. The snow is almost a foot deep in the low places, its about two feet in the drifts. I'm clearly on the road. I'm just so goddamn stuck I have no idea how to get out of it. I put my floor mats under my tires. I throw it back and forth between reverse and drive, putting the pedal to the floor. Now I'm just stuck in a big cradle shaped indentation in the snow.

The house is within sight of course, and an easy walk. But there is no way I'm asking dad for help with this. There's also no way I am abandoning my car, because then I'll have to tell him why in the morning. I decide to just dig out the entire road up to the driveway with a shovel. I get a shovel. I start digging. After a very long time I realize what a stupid idea that is, and that I've made pretty much no progress. I go back to trying to miraculously drive the car out of it.

 At about 1:45, I am out of ideas. I still am unwilling to wake dad up for help or abandon my car. I have resigned to just dying in my car. I curl up in the passenger seat, staring at the yellow lights from the house as I try to go to sleep. I wonder how long my gas will last sitting here.

  Then behind me there are headlights. A big pickup truck stops behind me, and several drunk ass good old boys from my school get out.

 "You gotta get outa the way!" they say jovially. "We got a party to go to!"

  I look at them like they are idiots. They surround my car, recommending all the things I've already tried. They can't get in front of the car, so they can't pull me out. They grab the shovels and some cardboard and start digging and kicking at the snow in front of the car. Then one of the drunker ones announces "I can get it out, lemme drive."

 He's wasted, but I figure there's no way that car is moving, so I let him try. He throws it in reverse, pulls forward and back a few times, sliding from side to side a little, and then all the sudden, it comes free. He drives it into the driveway. I run behind him, pretty damn happy that I don't have to die of pride in the snow. They go on their merry way.

  Now this story should end with me going in to bed, somewhat annoyed that no one even noticed whether or not I was late. But actually, later that night I was awakened by headlights constantly pointed at the window- my sister's car stuck in the snow, once again, sitting perfectly on the road, just stuck. And better yet, there's someone stuck behind her...

Feminism in the Club

  Paul Oakenfold is coming on at Lizard Lounge. I can't believe i spent a hundred bucks getting here. I can't believe I'm liking it. He spreads his arms like a Christ figure, the crowd responds like he is.

  An hour later, two hours? We are all caught up in the music. I am saying nothing, only looking up from my little piece of dance floor to make eye contact with my buddies and nod as if to say "hell yeah." At the begining of the night all the girls looked cool in their towering heels and short dresses. Now i look cooler than cool in flat boots. I'm wearing a tank top your grandpa would wear, pretending its a dress.

  They are pulling the bottles now and I am sad to see it go but only a little. I feel the pulse of the music, up through the balcony floor and into my feet. We don't mourn the death of drinking; all at once we grab the table and the odd choice of chairs and we pull them back from the rail. We dance, over looking the pit below and the wasted girls looking at their clumsy hands in the air and the dudes that don't do anything but shake their fists.

  I am doing the go go dancers rest step, back and forth as i get ready to pick it up again and surveying my kingdom. I am thinking thats its our job, to look over this club and dance on this rail so that they can look up and see us and long to be where we are.

  Beside me on my left there is a girl. I am observing her without admitting to noticing her. She's wearing a funky tee shirt and jeans and heels. She is dancing on the rail too and we are pretending not to see each other. On and on we dance, next to each other, in our own little world. On my right my friend is in his own world too, and maybe we exchange glances, but really we are all absorbed in the sort of ironic silence of music you can't speak over.

  Step step step step step.. hand on the rail, hands in the air, both hands on the rail, hands at my side when its all about the hips and the feet and still she and I ignore each other. And then she bumps me. or I bump her. We are startled enough to look at each other, forgetting to pretend it didn't happen. I could eye her up. I could give her the cold look of measuring or I could look at her awkwardly apologetically. But I don't. Maybe its the handful of drinks circulating around my veins, or maybe my mind is just extra clear in this moment and I am less hesitant than usual.

 I look up at her and grin, as if we are conspirators in some wild adventure. She grins. We go back to our own dancing, but both of us caught up more this time. Our steps get bigger. As she ceases to give token recognition to the guy behind her, I get the whim to step back. I let her move into my spot on the rail and I step back out of the view of the world and into the shadows of people taller than me. I finish the night dancing there until we are leaving in a whirl of exiting before the over packed house spins out around us. We don't even manage to say by to the entire group as the loud silence of being enveloped by music turns to the excited chatter of the parking lot. I am walking with my friend and the one I love as they smoke and I smile and we rehash the ride that isn't yet quite over.

 My friend is telling me how brilliant the night was and the ride that it was in the way that he can say it and make you say "yeah man!" with every fiber of your being.. but I can only try to repeat it and make it sound dumb. "Even that chick, that chick!" he is saying, "the one that danced next to me, she felt it too, she was fuckin cool." And I laugh, because the moment in time that just happened for him happened because the choice I made in a moment let it.

A Story About Modeling

A wordless account of what goes on before a fashion show, as told by me and the Droid.

the actor's tour of texas

You will see austin for the first time as you race to San Antonio, trying to get to a shoot. You will see it again at 7 one morning, fighting traffic and trusting the gps to get you to an 8 am call time.

  East Texas you will see on your way to auditions in shreeveport. You will ask yourself why you ever agreed to drive four hours to try to get a bit role in a probably retarded movie. You will get up at a rediculous time. On the way back you will face exhaustion. stop for an energy drink, and take the first three sips. Set your alarm and sleep in the sun in the car for 15 minutes. It will be enough to get you through. When you finish that one, stop for another. The countryside is beautiful in the hyper focus youll have.

   Fair Park you will learn quickly. Everytime you go in to your appointments there, you will get lost and then irrate. You will ask yourself why the hell anyone asked you to come here of all places. When you find the building, you will think "oh god.. this is exactly the kind of seedy place my mom pictures me getting killed in.." but you willl go in anyway. Inside it will be nice. You'll get mad again as you try to leave.

  Canton you will see randomly, as you are photographed in a pool of mud. White Rock Lake you will see as you look past a camera, and Grapevine Lake you will see nothing but the glare of sun as you cover your chest with your arms and try not to look like you're wilting. You will see the dramatic hills out past Mesquite from a car full of actresses with your hair in a victory roll, but you will never again be able to figure out where you were. You will sit in expensive restaraunts whose names you won't remember and pick at cold food take after take. You will stand outside in the wind for two hours between two buildings and two scenes. You will shiver as you walk out of some hotel, and you will wait for the Lone Star cab to pass by so you can film a scene that takes place in LA. Later you will look at places and try to remember when and why you were there. You won't be sure.

Jesus and Coke

Here it is- my contribution to society..

1/2 oz Jim Beam
1/2 oz Jack Daniels
1/2 oz Jameson
splash of Coke

Shoot it!
Its not as rough as you think.
Something that originated from talking shit at Vickery Park Plano.

Cliff Notes...

Well let's see...

I got finalist in the XFX Girl contest! I'll be going to LA for that on the 23rd of January.

I got a graphics tablet! But I kind of suck at drawing with it.

Spent Christmas Eve on 15th street. Spent Christmas with a family I had never met before, then after much discombobulation, went down to Double Wide with the cool kids to see Hello Lover and American Fuse.

Got Dragon Age Origins and Call of Duty Modern Warfare 2, among other things. :) I'm in fps training currently.

Can't decide on a design for Deep Six's tee shirts.. keep starting over and over again.

Finally rode the Grapevine railroad to the Ft. Worth Stockyards with Thom and his family.. train was slow, Stockyards was cool. Jameson at The White Elephant Saloon!

Oh yeah.. and got a real gaming mouse. :)

Watch this.

Go here.

http://www.facebook.com/#/pages/XFX-Girl/139227932935?ref=ts

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Up on Joe's Bar

photo by Ryan Pream, makeup by Stephanie Dawn

A Story About the Virgin Islands

"Oh yeah, whatever you guys need to do!" says Joe. He's a laid-back long hair, grinning like the pirates in my imagination. Somehow I thought we'd have to talk him into this. He doesn't stay around for the action though, he gives us permission and gets out of the way. Talking to his customers in the other corner.
Joe's Beach Bar, Water Island, near St. Thomas, USVI, is hoping on Sunday night. Boats are pulled up on the sand, little boats, some kayaks, dinghys, boats I don't know the names of. Everyone is tan and weather beaten with wild hair. Jeans are cut off anf t shirts are old. Its like a bigger version of my parents old photo albums, when they were my age and I was five, sitting in lawn chairs drinking beer. The bar reminds me of a snowcone stand, painted light bright green like a taqueria, surrounded by sand and trailer park style lights.
John mumbles something about how it doesn't look the way you imagine a beach bar, but I like that. It's not a bar for tourists. I am designing a wild comic book world in my mind, with all the grit and cavalier-ness of this island. I am wearing a short blue button up dress that looks like a slutty Halloween flight attendant outfit. My bright pink bra is peeking out of it. The bartender clears away the tip jar. She is making me the best Pina Colada in the whole damn world, one-off style, in a blender. The island boys are eyeing me. They know something is up. John and Ryan look at each other. they look around. My drink is ready. Its way bigger than its plastic cup. It looks like a snowcone.

John finishes hooking the light to the battery pack. Its time. They're all watching to see what I will do.

"Rock and roll.." I announce to the crowd and shake off the dress. I hop up on to the bar, pink lingerie against green bar. John tests the light. I always pose, even for lighting tests. I'm laying on the bar like a pin up postcard, pretty drink in my hand. The light pops and flashes. I think in the imagination of the on lookers, we're shooting for Sports Illustrated. John shoots. Ryan shoots. Pop flash, buzz of the crowd. I'm zeroed in on the instructions they give, but the crowd is fueling me. Hold that pose. I tell Ryan to tape some. He does. I roll this way and the other, the way I imagine Gisele would.

Ryan orders two tequila shots. "This is the islands, we drink rum!" someone hazes him. "Oh we're being culturally insensitive!" I laugh. Ryan takes his shot. He tells me to wait. He like his tequila to hurt. No trimmings. He picks up the camera. I ick up the shot. Its hot. Shooting tequila in island heat is like a heat stroke. My chest burns. I am drinking that pina colada fast. I am using up every trick I have. I feel "alive, more alive, so alive." The light is dying.

"Get the Joe's Beach Bar in there!" says Joe as he walks by. Everyone is loving the excitement. So am I.

Then it ends, I'm off the bar, the dress is thrown on, the cameras hurriedly packed away. I am in the post storm calm now. I'm laid back, grinning and talking to the locals as the guys pack up the lights. But they rush me out like a drunk socialite from a club. I'm the hell out of Dodge before I know it, watching the party from the dark side of the beach, where I can see without being seen.

regina spektor

Jupiter One sets up.. theyre opening forRegina Spektor at Stubbs.. and we're vip. :)