Did somebody say foreboding?

So, I'm back in NYC, and I'm already exhausted. My room isn't even decorated yet, but that is of secondary importance. I do, however, have my Queer As Folk calendar and my Sweet Home Alabama poster up, so I guess it's home enough for now. I, indeed, have 3 roommates; it's gonna be a tight squeeze, but we'll see.

Most importantly, I have realized that I truly have NOTHING to do for the next three weeks, and by damn I need to find something to do; anyone who has an idea, e-mail me. I'm thinking Blockbuster; the perk of free movie rentals is just too tempting. I could work at a clothing store, but I'd spend all the money I made in an attempt to start looking like a sophisticated lady of 21, and that's no good. And any sort of waitressing gig is totally out because I would suck with a capital 'S' at that. I'm just not made for the service economy, I think. **wistful sigh**

So, wanna hear a story?

Okay!

Today there was much drama trying to reinstate my e-mail at NYU... stuff involving NetIDs, identity-confirming questions and what not. Anyhow, short-story-long, I have to rush across town to go get my account purged so I can make a new password. I only have 20 minutes, and I'm not about to hotfoot it over there, so I'm looking for a cab, and this off duty cabbie picks me up. Lucky me, right? Well, he certainly thought so. Apparently, I have a really bright aura, and when I'm ready he will read my palm free of charge. Then, the moment he drops me off on the corner of Astor Place, some random asks me where I get my hair done. Ever the polite Southern Belle, I tell him Birmingham, and he starts talking to me. However, I wasn't havin' none of that because I had a deadline. It was so weird. Was he picking me up or trying to solicit me to go to another hair salon? I guess I'll never know...

Tragedies every day, I know

However, it has been an Alan-Cumming-eriffic day! I picked up 2 mags at the airport for the plane ride, and he was definitely in at least one of them. Entertainment Weekly, I think. (Sidenote: I don't want to work for People anymore, Entertainment Weekly is where it's at!) Anyhow, when I'm walking back from the Astor Place shenanigans, I am strolling all hot-like through the West Village, and I check to see if there are anymore copies of HX, and indeed there are -- as well as a copy of Metro, another free fagrag, and who is in both of them? My BFAC, of course! One even has a full-out article with reference to big, black dildos (or X Men 2 mutant tails that look like them) and life lessons about protecting your anus from upwardly mobile cameras... In the words of Ms. Stewart, it's a good thing.

There were some bumps and some boredom, but by damn if it didn't turn out to be a good day! I even got to watch Joey the Fat-one in nouveau Fame. Awhaw...

Now I'm gonna go read my last readings until I have to start preparing for comps. Hopefully I'll think of a brilliant job while I dream.