Musings on fellas and free monies

Gah there are so many things right about this picture. For those of you who don't know him, meet Sufjan Stevens. I've been in love with him for roughly three years. Amongst other things, as you can see, he plays the banjo. He's from Michigan. His first name is Sufjan. He describes his sound as "sixth-grade band class". How could I NOT fall for him? I just felt like honoring him today.

This week, I recognized a trend in what I tend to be attracted to in a fellow. And I'm not sure how I feel about it. Puzzled, I think, because after looking over the list, it appears as though my ideal dude is Willie Nelson. And, needless to say (I hope), he is NOT. Here are a few things my butterfly-inducing-boys usually have in common: they play instruments (guitars/banjos mostly), they like to garden, they are amateur photographers, they are hairy about the face/chestal area, they love bikes, they are frugal, and they are incredible at some sport (that's a typical girl thing, probs). OH! And they usually end up being under 6'0", which is bad news bears for Kassie as I'm at least 6'1" with heels on. K. So, no big deal, none of these are bad things or too creepy, except that every gay man in NYC probably has the exact same list... But what I've been trying to figure out is, whaaat? Why? There's gotta be some fundamental characteristic I'm attracted to underneath it all that leads to...gardening. And whatnot. I can't be that superficial (oooooh! he has a homemade bike? AND a beard? swooooon)! Gah I dunno I'm a weirdo. But I will get to the bottom of this. Because to know oneself is to know God. Or something like that. I bet Sufjan makes his banjos with materials he grew in his backyard and makes strings out of his chest hair. And then takes pictures of them with his digital Nikon and uses the copies as stationary. Gaaaaaah so sexxy!

AND subject change:

So since my classes have ended, I've been trying to get me a full-time job in the City because that is what one is supposed to do. Surprisingly difficult, ladies and gentlemen! I've technically had an extremely part-time/on-call job for an oral surgeon since March (he has called me probably four times and I have been able to work for him once), and I think he fired me via text on Wednesday. It's ok, folks, I didn't come to NYC to be a surgical assistant. So back to the drawing board. I got a couple of rad gigs this week. Did you know that marketing companies hire actors and pay them good money to exist?? Wednesday I got $100 for six hours of work, three of which I had the tiring task of hanging out in Madison Square Park and looking like I wasn't being paid to be there. We were promoting a movement (trying to get peeps to take their lunch breaks and leave their offices building let's change corporate America w00t!!) and I pretended to be a convert, eating my lunch at the park. It was beautiful out and there were some really cool-looking birds chilling in the little flower garden I was admiring. So I even communed with nature a bit. (Also, has anyone been to MSP recently? There are these strange naked dude statues standing in what appears to be yoga's "mountain pose". What ARE these? Some little kid walked up to one, stared, and just took a hold of the statue's manhood. Like it ain't no thang, just holding it as casually as if it were his mom's hand. Awesome. THAT, my friends, is art to me...) I was even interviewed for some NBC affiliate. Flirted with the cute field reporter. Easiest money EVER! Free t-shirt, free lunch and granola bars. Perfect gig for poor people like me (I was so excited to get a free t-shirt)! I'm all about this!

I also might be starting my own baby-sitter's club, members: one. Maybe I should get a members only jacket... A friend of a friend hooked me up with this rad little family up in my neighborhood aka "the barrio". I'm gonna regularly babysit two wee lasses - three & four yrs. old, a-dor-a-ble. AND the mom is gonna tell all her friends about me. More easy money and, truly, kids say the darndest things. I freaking LOVE humans not in my age bracket.

Why waste my time doing crap I don't want to do? Office assisting, surgery assisting, paperwork, selling beds, blargh. If there are things out there like fake-activist-ing and hanging out with rad kids, I'm all over it. It may be less consistent and less health-care-covering, but it's fun stuff! Loved ones, I think it IS possible to support yourself actually doing things that you enjoy. Don't give up hope!! And don't let the ego get in the way. I'm a 27-year-old babysitter. And I have no apologies.

Holler back,

Kassie