I woke up this morning and it just came to me. I don't know why it took so long. I know how I am going to supplement my income. I am going to become a model.
I've already had two shots taken for my portfolio. They are included in this post. Please let me know which one you feel would be more effective. I can't decide this on my own. I guess I am somewhat bias.
As I write this, I am working on various poses. One is this thing where I suck my cheeks in and I face the camera from a side angle. It really shows off the bridge of my nose and the corner of my chin. I think it's wonderful.
I'm going to have to shop for some new clothes. I was thinking about buying suspenders - not a fashion statement but to keep my pants up because let's face it, I have no hips.
I have this brilliant idea. I am going to become The Tomboy Model of all time. Here's the slogan that will go with all of my ads:
"I'm not a boy but you can call me Tom" Get it - like Tomboy.
I think I'll purchase a few lumber shirts cause those look really good on me and maybe even a pair of Kodiak boots. Do you remember Kodiaks? They were very popular when I was a kid. Everyone wore them but now only construction workers wear them. Odd?
My hair - what to do with my hair? Well up until now, the way I have managed it has been by cutting it all off. That makes it really easy. I wonder if that will go over well in the world of modeling?
Of course I have to find an agency to represent me. That may be tough. Maybe my mother can represent me. She thinks I'm beautiful although she has mentioned she prefers I dress nicer and act more like a girl. Maybe she isn't the best person to serve as my agent.
Oh, wait, I have an idea. Mike Azeff - he can be my agent. He's in one of the photos with me and well don't tell him I told you but he has always been somewhat in love with me. Something about my being an "older woman" and knowing the "ways of the world". What can I say? Young men see me and they just can't hold themselves back.
I wonder if I have to wear make-up? I really have no idea how to put on lip stick or mascara or eye liner. Maybe I'll just buy some of that foundation stuff and rub it all over my face. Yeah, that will work.
Anyway I have to go because there is so much to do before my big debut. Look for me on the billboards and remember to vote for the best of these two photos. Your votes mean so much to me and my mother.
There's nothing like being inspired by the magical things in life.
Love yourself and smile.
An actor who has played the same part over and over again and I don't think he has washed his hair once. He also smokes throughout all of his movies and although he is evidently not clean, the women love him and you know what? So do I.
He's a bad boy. We like bad boys (we is you and me so just nod). When I was studying creative writing and literature at Concordia University in Montreal (where I learned about run along sentences and commas or was that semi-colons or were those semi-colons...I don't know because I never listened and here comes a dash) - there was this guy in my class. His name was well I can't really say his name so I will call him Tray (cause I always wanted to date a guy named Tray). Yes so Tray use to sit at the back of the class with me while our classic literature teacher read Chaucer (very confusing trust me). Trace would roll his cigarettes one by one, licking them closed with his tongue.
The first time we spoke, class had ended and I was making my way out of the building to use the bathroom in another building which took me 5 minutes, 40 seconds to get to (don't tell me you haven't found a special bathroom at work or school that has been mostly undiscovered by the majority of the population). Tray tapped me on the shoulder and gestured with a freshly rolled cigarette. I informed that I didn't smoke and then I looked at him more closely and noticed his long shiny brown hair back in a pony tail and his steal blue eyes and his dimples and his... anyway he was very attractive so I accepted the offer and we ended up not only spending the break together (in my special bathroom) but the entire semester.
I knew it wouldn't last because he was a bad boy.
Now back to Ethan. So Ethan needs a good sponge bath and he definitely needs to rinse with mouthwash and brush his teeth. I watched most of his movies - Bronx's Best - Reality Bites - Emperor's Club - That other movie where he meets that girl in Paris and spends days with her (smoking of course) - and yes well let's get to the smoking - the truth is - Ethan Hawke has driven me to cigarettes.
I am about as healthy as it gets but I bought these herbal cigarettes today from this downtown tobacco store that has everything imaginable that you can smoke or put in your mouth and pretend to smoke. These are tobacco free, nicotine free and quite frankly I think I could have rolled some parsley, rosemary and thyme (thank you Paul Simon) and made one myself.
As I sit here and wish I had enough hair for a pony tail or at least for it to fall over my eyes and my face like Ethan's does - I feel the strong urge to smoke one and lay my head into my hands and pretend I am Ethan Hawke - the romantic - the poet - the philosopher - the musician.
Hey, I'm tattooed, I wear torn jeans, I spike my hair - how far off can I be from being a bad boy - ooops I mean a bad girl of course.
Now Ethan, he is busy making more movies, more money, more women and Tray, I met him several years ago selling poetry on the street. He was still as handsome and as had a rolled cigarette behind his right ear where I would store a pencil.We had a coffee, his eyes were incredible, his smile even more so but I knew deep down inside that we he was going to be a bad boy forever - him and Ethan (and also I knew deep down, that he really, really needed a shower).
I'm going to head out onto the balcony now and smoke me a herbal cigarette. Me and Hemingway and Thoreau and Emerson and Tray. We are all just living the life of a writer, one smoke at a time.
And far away, in a sleazy bar, by a fuzzy TV screen sits Ethan. He thinks of me as he eats stale nuts from the basket and he laughs to himself.
He knows he has driven me to the habit and he knows I will grow my hair. He knows I will sleep with another bad boy.
Shhh... If you listen carefully you can hear him reciting the same words over and over again and as he does so he thinks of me and me only.
Inhale, Exhale, Inhale, Exhale
And so I do.
Labels: Bad Boys, Cigarettes, does Ethan Hawke smoke, Ethan Hawke, Ethan Hawke plays guitar, is Ethan Hawke married, Love, Smoking, Writers