The Chronicles Of Jessica

I'm not sure how it got started but there is now an entire industry devoted to the maintenance of women's pubic hair. Shave it, depilate it, make it into the shape of a moon or a heart but for the love of God, don't just let it do what it will. That's grounds for being shipped off to some hippie commune to spend the rest of your life, sprinkling wheat germ on everything and singing old Cat Stevens tunes in a circle.

I don't have these sorts of prejudices, really. I'm a live-and-let-live kinda gal, so I'm not sure how the bikini wax came to be a normal occurrence in my life. But much like my relationship to ALIAS and little debbie brownies, it's in my system now and it's no longer something I can do without.

But I realized recently that it's kind of messed up my sense of modesty. I was getting out of the shower early one morning when my roomate happened upon me in the bathroom by accident. I had cracked the door slightly to let out some steam, I put my leg up on the vanity to dry between my toes, and let's just say that if he'd had a webcam with him, Bill could be making a tidy profit in voyeuristic internet porn.

Needless to say it was very embarrassing for me. But not an hour later, I found myself forking over $20 for the privilege of having someone rip out my pubes by the root. I've known Bill nearly six years and was filled with horror at the mere idea that he might have caught a brief look at my bits, but I'll don a pair of paper panties and lay on a table like a trussed chicken for any Korean lady with a pot of wax and a popsicle stick.

Clearly I need to rethink things.

On the upside, I feel I have my head on straight about the whole employment thing. I'm still looking for a part-time job that I can do in addition to the forty hours a week I'm putting in temping so I can start saving the oodles of cash I'm going to be required to pay Actor's Equity. And in the course of the job search I ran across this:

Looking for ladies between 20-30s to come to my Friday night party and get their feet worshipped!! No nudity or any sexual services of any kind. Just a fun time making quick easy $$!!

And I only considered it for a minute.

Summer has slammed New York city and man, is it hot. And as Conan O'Brian so aptly said, it's like walking through a taxi driver's breath.

I've started making sure that I carry a notebook and pen with me everywhere I go, because I keep noticing these little oddities all around Manhattan that really knock me out. I know that every town has its own idiosyncracies and quirks but in the big apple there seem to be way more of them; more square footage I guess.

The other day I was in the grocery store near my place, and in the produce section I noticed this: you know how green beans are "haricots vert" in French? Vert means green, and haricots are beans. Apparently the produce manager at Central Market is aware of the vernacular, but only vaguely, because the packages of green beans were labelled "hairy covert." I love it! The green beans are not only hirsute, they're stealth!

Then today was the gay pride parade so I was privileged to some excellent people watching. I saw this fantastic old gay guy with a t-shirt that read "Department of Homo-land Security". YES! You don't see slogans like that in Duluth, do ya? (On the off chance that I have readers from Duluth, I apologize for this example. Don't be so damn sensitive.)

The gay pride parade is just some excellent fun, no matter what your sexual preference is. Everybody just lets it all hang out on pride day (and believe me, some folks let it all hang WAY out). There are all these bodies of all shapes and sizes and fitness levels, everybody walking along, chanting and grinning and throwing mint flavored condoms at the gawkers. What's not to like!?

It's just one big love-fest and everybody is happy to be there. It just does you good to see two men in their eighties holding a sign that says "Gus and Elmer - together 45 years." Or two women with little girls on their shoulders sporting t-shirts that say, "You think having one mommy is great - try two!" Not to get up on a soapbox but I wish people that are in such a blind panic about gay marriage were required to meet a few couples like Gus and Elmer. With all the problems in the world right now, I think we could really stand to just let guys like Gus and Elmer and all the other gay americans just...live their lives. You know? I was with a whole lot of same-sex couples today, and my head didn't burst into flames or anything. It didn't make me want to do it with livestock, or something. In fact it made me feel pretty hopeful, and more than a little awed.

Of course this was before I saw the big pink float full of transvestites whose t and a looked waaaaay better than mine; sorta made me feel like my boobs and butt are government issue and theirs came from Armani Exchange. And there is something inherently depressing about watching a bunch of gorgeous gay men flaunting their sexy bods - kind of like being lactose intolerant in a Haagen Daz.

I found out this week that my Pepere, my mother's father, has cancer, and he's not doing too well. So if you have any good mojo and a moment to spare for Pep, beam it out there. My grandfather is a real pistol, he would have made an excellent actor in his own right. I'll never forget the advice he gave me in fifth grade, when I was being bullied by Brandon Rogers. "Well," he said, "you turn an asshole inside out and it's still an asshole."

Pretty Zen, if you think about it, huh? He was always ahead of his time.

For some reason, the temp agency has had barely any work for me lately, so I find myself with a lot of free time on my hands during the weekday. And since I'm not getting paid, it's not like I can just fill up the hours visiting Louis Vitton and getting pedicures.

But if you really just use your imagination you can get by just fine in new york with very little money. Already so far today I've read yesterdays paper cover to cover (hey, if Homer Villalobos can't pick up the Times by the end of the day, that's his prob), I've eaten two day-old croissants from the deli on 108th, and shared a fifth of Smirnov with the homeless guy who hangs out by the Rite Aid. Stickin' it to the man!

Maybe I should be in that show, "Rent". That was a pretty good show, I guess, but I never quite understood why they didn't just...work. I mean, I'm all for the life of the plucky artiste, but when Mike and I saw the theatrical trailer for the movie version of 'Rent' the other day at the movies, I leaned over to him and whispered, "Get a job!" We giggled. Then we got shushed.

Anyway, it looks like my friend Angela might be able to help me get a job at the bistro in midtown where she works. I know that I swore years ago that I would never wait tables again, but I also remember swearing that I was finished with carbs and that if Bush won reelection I was moving to New Zealand, so. I think we can safely say that some of the things I vow to tend to be a little premature.

Something else has been troubling me lately, though. Every time I walk by this group of guys in my neighborhood, they seem to be trying to communicate something with me that I'm not quite understanding. There are smoochy sounds involved, and something that sounds vaguely like hissing. Now, I'm not saying that these men are all of any specific nationality, but I will say that I picked up a spanish language dictionary to see if I would recognize the words for ass, thong, and three-way. Just in case.

But the thing I really find puzzling is why I'm getting this attention at all. I don't mean to downplay my considerable attractiveness (sic) but it's so humid right now that my skin beads up the minute I leave the building. Before I'm halfway down the block I look like a wilted ferret on a bad hair day! If I'm the best they can do for an ogle, the city is really going to pot.

Well, I'd better be off. I've missed "Texas Justice" already and I won't get my daily dose of tough talking daytime t.v. judges if I just keep typing willy nilly through Judge Joe Brown. He's just so stern with those wayward teens! I can't get enough!

Not to mention, it's totally free.