I don't know what to do with myself.
What to do. What to do.
I'm 22 years old.
I've got a whopping semester and a half of college under my belt.
I never wanted to go back to school unless I was completely sure of what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. To continue would be a waste of my time, energy, sanity, and a waste of my parents dollar dollar bills y'all.
I go between Journalism and Fashion. Fashion Journalism perhaps? Or Do I just want to be a stylist? What about a chef, a baker, a jewllery maker?
Shortly after becoming a college dropout I took a detour; Modeling. Hey, It's hard ass work. Literally, your ass itself is getting payed. Ok, yes, At times it can be easy, Example: I remember I had a photoshoot over in Palm Springs once at this adorable all white, 50's style hotel, it was for for these Japanese Clients. At about 2:00 they decided they wanted to wait for the sun to go down. So I went into my hotel room and watched trashy reality TV on VH1 for roughly 3 hours while I ate my veggie sandwich, cheetos, and my topped it off with a Kit Kat. I couldn't understand a thing anyone said- other than a few words I picked up in Tokyo a couple years ago. So I didn't really communicate with anyone, I stayed in my own little world in my own little head, all day long. That job was easy breezy and walked away with some cool cash (actually the checks always come in about 90 days). And it's days like that where I wonder why I ever want to say Sayonara to being a slab of expensive meat.
HOWEVER- there's the flipside. The castings and constant criticism (which- thank god- I have incredibly thick skin so it rarely bothers me), it's the "How are your measurements?", "how is your skin?", "Can you squeeze in 7 castings today- on foot, in the rain, oh and good luck finding your way around this country of which you don't speak the local toungues"! While I naturally and clinically am "underweight", in order to make more money, it's always a good idea to lose a few inches from here and a couple centimeters from there. I don't care about my hair, I haven't dyed it since my wedding in '04 at my attempt to go darker, and I haven't cut it in over a year (shh.. don't tell). I don't care about moisturizing, plucking, or peeling. And Who are YOU to tell me I look TOO YOUNG for a bridal job? I was a Bride 3 1/2 years ago Jackass! I'm not 16, can everyone please stop telling me I look it? Ok, this is where I get slapped and told to be thankful for what I do.
Some fantastic friendships have been formed throughout these years, and I wouldn't have met these people any other way. I love my bookers, my agent, the models who aren't "Models"; the girls who just happen to model, but have a lot of more interesting things about them, other than how they "work their angles" and "how to say no to carbs". I fell in love with a gay makeup artist who was swedish, he once lived in beverly hills, who now resides in Greece. I enjoy the lengthy phone calls from my booker TJ, that frequently trail off into a conversation of nonsense and laughter.. I never want to put down the industry that's already viewed on such a superficial and shallow level. It is a real Job, It's hard work, And to be honest it kind of reminds me of Shopping for chic finds at Thrift Stores. You have to get through a lot of nasty, offensive, used up, and rotten articles of clothing, But you bet your bottom dollar that I've walked away with things that are now my most favorite pieces in my wardrobe to this day. Same goes for the people in the "industry". Some of the people have made me want to vomit in my mouth, shoot myself in the foot, and rip off my earlobes... yet others I completely trust, love, and am utterly thankful for.
Anyway, I am supposed to email pictures of myself in a bikini to my booker in LA tonight. Today is day 1 of my "lady time of the month" and I'm not in the mood to strip my pasty, bloated, and tired self into a bikini, which always feels so out of context anyway when your not on the beach. While the friendships and experiences are major factors of what keep me puttin' along. The dollar signs give me that little push and that shove. And in saying that, Off to New York I go in a few weeks.
So. What to do? Do I quit? Do I keep riding the "Do you think I'm pretty?" wave? Do I focus on a full time job that allows me the occasional muffin-top and spotted T- Zone? Do I continue and juggle with another steady job? Or School.... Do I go to school? What For?
While in Port Townsend, Washington this weekend, I came up with the perfect solution to it all: Start the creation of my long awaited dreadlocks, triple the amount of flannel in my closet, buy some Teva Sandals, increase the granola intake in my diet, and sell my jewellery by the beach in the Great Northwest of the U.S.A. Now there's an Idea.
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