My City

This week is going to be my last week telemarketing; I haven't told my employers yet but I figured this blog can do it for me. Maybe I can send HR an e-mail saying "Here are the reports, and by the way, have you checked out my blog? Here's the URL. See you, uh, soonish...for uh...my paycheck..."

Nah, seriously I will tell them. I'm just trying to stay motivated as I live in what I can only affectionately call "The Frathouse." My room is sub-arctic and my overhead light socket is broken, so I am writing this entry by dim lamp light. I wanted to just go full-on and write by candle-light but I don't know where the fire escape is and I refuse to die in a blaze of poverty.

The sick part is that I like this. This is what real New York Living is like. And also why I have no respect for that new MTV show "The City," another one of those faux-reality shows where bleach-blond girls giggle a lot at the camera and complain about barely getting by, even though they're handed gobs of money and never have to go to work (or do any work once they're in the office). I know I've expressed my dislike for shows like these in the past, but the whole concept of this show is just silly.

Living in New York and wanting to work in media does not involved an automatic lease on an Upper East Side apartment or taking a cab to the gym that's within walking distance. If you have not had a life-or-death battle with vermin, or had to learn a different language to communicate with the super, or seen homeless penis on the subway, then you are not living in New York City. Period. And if you're chasing a dream in New York City, you don't have time to blink rapidly and vapidly at a camera. At best, you have the time to crack open a beer and cry-sturbate while listening to Blur (I'm not saying that's how I spend my weekend, but I took an informal survey and that was the #1 answer).

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go take a shower in boiling hot water because the cold knob is broken, step over lead paint chips, and get to bed so I can wake up early and head into a soul-crushing job that I'm leaving soon so I can go pursue my pipe dream. Like a real Manhattanite.