OUT OF HIBERNATION

Alas, I've committed some time to that life. The winter was long and strenuous, we lost a few cattle from the flock and our fields are in need of reseeding but the farmhouse stands strong. With the last post being ages ago I don't know where to begin. "Is this thing on?"

Lets fast forward past my entry into an international pastry competition, modeling for Rick Owens, and the car wreck with my sister where I broke my neck. I now work as an assistant to a real estate manager in Harlem and fit my side jobs in when they pop up. The best way to describe my job is to imagine my boss as a macbook pro with loads of real estate information and "to do's". I'm his external hard drive.

I imagine some people in NY can't stop themselves from rolling their eyes when they hear "I'm an actor/model". When I hear people tell me that they're taking real estate classes, that's the feeling I get. Not another one. I guess I never gave it a chance and dismissed it like my other previous notions of wall street trading, back up dancing for gaga, and my U.S. Presidency.

It's nearing the time to either renew my lease or find a new place. With my new employer's success nourished by finding real estate, I'm hoping that an opportunity will arise for me to relocate smoothly. The buildings that we pimp out are stunning old school Harlem townhouses between 110th Street and 180th Street, East and West. The properties all boast extra large everything; Ceiling heights, marvelous windows, and original character. My work requires lots of data entry, transcribing my boss's audible thoughts,  and communicating with various clients+contacts throughout the day via email/cell. I'm learning a lot it's just worrisome because I found this job through Craigslist (THANK YOU AGAIN CRAIGSLIST GODS) where it was noted that the position would be temporary:"5-10 days".

One day at a time.

Peligro

Waking up bruised and sore without any recollection of its cause is nothing new. I woke up and felt like I'd been hit by a train: both ankles in pain, swollen elbow, cut up knee, and a sore and dirty hip bone. At first awakening when I was still drunk I had no idea what had happened the night prior but as sobriety caught up with my consciousness so did fuzzy segments of my memory. I remember an extended fall, some yelling, and me climbing up the lip of the train platform then waking up late for work. The moral of this excerpt is not to stay in control of your substance intake but rather to not take the trains home at night, you may fall into the tracks and get hurt. Be safe out there kids.

Beyond a lunch stipend

In an effort to test the waters and dip my fingers in multiple "pussys waiting to be fucked" as my good friend Tony Montana puts it, the work I do at my internship for the showroom is a bit of a gamble. I work 3-8 hour shifts a week in exchange for lunch on the days I work and while I've acquired a perspective of how showrooms work and grasped further the significance of the role they play in the fashion world, I question what tangible benefit I will receive upon completion of my term as an intern.

The biggest reason I enjoy working in fashion is that sometimes I am able to spend time with the independent designers who work passionately for their brands. Designers are portals to diverse creativity and I love when I'm able to pick their minds, question inspirations, and listen to their histories and future ambitions. Marc Stone is one of the designers I've most recently met and is one of the menswear lines we house at the showroom.

Hailing from Zurich, this artist has been operating his line for a few years now with a tight team assisting him along the way. Unique cuts and materials add to this designers ingenious collections which are suitable for those who want to blend in or stand out from the crowd. His upcoming Spring/Summer line was inspired by images of an almost alien landscape after volcanic eruptions corrupted the calm landscapes which caress the northern lying country which is Iceland. Between the fine Italian fabrics and unique inspirations for prints, the clothes Mark Stone puts out are surely to be on the fashion radars of menswear enthusiasts for years beyond now. I'm so thankful to have had the few days to chat it up with him and be exposed to a great new foreign perspective.

INTERNSHIP

In a pursuit for work that is more rewarding than the thankless bitch work that is catering I've opted to take a side step in the fashion world and have acquired an internship at a fashion showroom. Naturally an internship consists of excessive bitch work but I feel that unlike catering, at least I'm being a slave in an industry I enjoy and wish to continue to thrive in. Most of what I've been doing is hanging clothes, making inventory/shipping lists, and acting as per diem showroom model. The people I am working with are cool and I'm glad that I randomly joined their team.

Moving to Harlem

"Hello, my name is Randall and I am a Manhattan based..." Is what email recipients of my solicitation for work will read from now on. I have switched back from being a "Brooklynite" to being able to say that I live on one of the greatest islands in the world. When I first moved to NY I was living in the lower east side of Manhattan in a classy shit hole of a space that I absolutely adored, "The Chelsea East Hostel". Unfortunately the city did not approve of the arrangement the hostel had with the building and all of the residents and temporary boarders were cast out to the street. Since then I've been residing, causing mayhem, and exploring in many regions of the city. If I hadn't moved to NY I question where/who I would be now. I was many things in Springfield, Massachusetts; hand cuff repair man, avid gym goer, traveler, entrepreneur, gay bar doorman, cyclist, loner. Now in NY I may still be lost but despite what some say about locations being temporary geographical fixes, I feel that merely residing in New York City for near 3 years is a feat which trumps all that I've accomplished in Western Massachusetts. I had myself some stellar times and connected with truly unforgettable people while living in my ghetto palace in Massachusetts, I would never give that up but change is inevitable in life and I think being in Manhattan adds an energy that everyone should encounter at least once in their lives.

Gym: Pet Peeves

I work out almost every day so the gym could be considered my second home. Naturally I make many observations amidst my work outs and I've decided to discuss a few of my pet peeves. My work outs are not intended to be easy so I let my aggressive side come out for fuel through my work outs. These annoyances are blatantly with an aggressive perspective so don't think too much into this post (or do, I don't really give a shit [yes I'm at the gym as I type this]).

First on the list is over crowded times at the gym. Naturally during "rush hour" the gym is saturated with those 9-5ers and I strive not to work out with them but sometimes its the only time I can get my work out in so it's dealt with. Gyms generally tend to get very sloppy at this time; weights are misplaced, equipment becomes unavailable, and the locker room attendants are overwhelmed with the increase in towels and lack of cleanliness their required to tend to. This is something that cannot be changed as with rush hour traffic on the roads. If roads/gyms could simply be doubled this would assist in combating the immense rush of people encountered during pre/post work times but they more than likely will remain the same so I'll just say "it is what it is".

The second nuisance whilst improving my fitness is douche bags who think the gym and all its equipment is theirs to be available at any moments desire. This is most noticeable during "rush hour" times and really works as a benefit to my aggression fueled work outs because anytime I encounter these tools I wish to use the same force I'm using to push weights to smash in their faces but choose the responsible reaction and keep the force exclusive to my work out. Countless times while I'm in the middle of pushing through a set dudes have come up to me and started talking (as if I could hear them). I always work out with music through my headphones and can't hear any communication via gym goers so I have to stop my exercise, take my head phones off, and listen to the same question; "how many sets do you have left?". Go Fuck Yourself Asshole, just watch me if you're really that in need of the fucking machine don't disturb my work out and shit, since you're waiting- you wanna go grab me a protein bar or something(?).

Lastly, and this isn't a real big deal because everyone has their own reasoning for their actions that I'll never know but the guys in the locker room who are over paranoid that guys will see their naked bodies just bothers me ( yeah I'm the biggest homo out there, whatever). I was walking through the locker room and saw this dude with his pants around his knees and towel still around his waist. Obviously he didn't want anyone seeing his skin or deformed penis but I don't know, it just annoys me people are still at that level. When I was a fatty (as a kid) I remember at summer camp and during gym class the locker room caused such intense anxiety because I was self conscious of my fat ass body so I'm not going to be close minded about it I just acknowledge that in time you realize it doesn't matter and seeing grown men still at the point that I was at as a boy I guess deep down just makes me feel bad. As stated in the beginning of this rant though the gym is aggression filled so rather than showing empathy (deep down I do, I swear!) I just shake my head and when I'm out of sight I yell "nice cock pinocchio!". This is a double edged pet peeve though because on the other end of the spectrum I cannot stand the obese hairy older men who nonchalantly pace through the locker room fully nude. No worry or concern for others as if their fat rolls jiggling with each step taken (think, jurassic park) and their disgusting hairy asses freely bouncing doesn't make everyone in the room want to pour rubbing alcohol in their eyes and then sit in a hot tub full of pirañas enjoying them slowly eating life away just so we wont have to contemplate the foul site burned into the short term memory. What can you do?

I just feel that since I work out so much I'm entitled to a little bitch session....and maybe a cookie.

Take what you want.

When an 18 year old male model asks me to buy him a few beers for the ride to a catering event that we were both to work I couldn't help but smile proudly at his carelessness. The last beer was consumed as we were pulling into the parking lot of our event and the evening went on as any slow catering night ought to; a few glasses were smashed (guess who), managers were pissy and dramatic, and I got my share of lean meat from the leftover food once things slowed down. The more catering events I work for lately the more I'm encountering people new to the city whom are younger than me. Some still with the awe of "New York City" and some scolded by an unprecedented realness they were unaware of coming from their small midwest towns. Since I've observed these young implants to NY I have realized that my mentality has changed from the start of my stay in the city. I'm still as aggressive and hungry for productivity but the city is less of a mystery, I've adapted to the awe factor and am at a point in my life where again I seek a place where the productivity and awe factor coincide.

My booker (agent) and I are going to sit down soon to discuss the best path for me as a model. With my portfolio barely consisting of any tear sheets, I think he may push me towards working in a country (not the states) that will get me work in magazines for the specific reason of acquiring photos for my portfolio showing that I can work. Whether it be Europe or Asia (again) now with a current awareness of my desire for new stimulation I am prepared to relocate where ever my agency believes that the most productivity will be achieved.

I'm no greater than the kid who will never leave home and who may be content with absolute simplicity. Humans can adapt to any circumstance and we're all alike in one sense that we can make a choice to either accept what we're given or push to be where we'd like to be. "You want to always be outside of your comfort zone or else you are not challenged and unmotivated to improve"(spin instructor). With the busy catering season amassing and for other blatant reasons, I've decided to take a brief trip to Mexico. I can't really afford it but I figure I'll adapt and make it work. I morally cannot say that I am better than any person but will say that I am that person who creates a life that he wants and will not sit back for shit to magically appear.