It’s Really F***ing Hot in NYC

More castings, more waiting.
More castings, more waiting.
I switched birth control pills a few weeks ago to a brand that my insurance covers because I’m sick of paying $100 a month to not have children.  I already get super emotional the week I’m off the pills, but switching to different ones made me extra super woman-y.  I was listening to The Slim Shady LP on my subway ride into Manhattan this morning.  The song “If I had” came on, ya know, that super emo song where Eminem talks about shit he’s tired of.  He said that line, “I’m tired of having skinny friends hooked on crack and mini-thins…” and it made me think of being a teenager in Michigan and buying those awful cheap ephedrine pills from gas stations.  So naturally, I started crying?  Hi, my name is Melissa and it’s that time of the month.  Oh, but then a woman with a crying baby got on at the Wall St. stop and immediately I thought to myself, “aww what a cute little baby,” and became happy again.  Hi, my name is Melissa and I’m also a sociopath.

I’m subletting a place in Brooklyn this month because trying to get modeling jobs in Los Angeles when you have the worst print agency in the world is impossible (my contract is up this month, I’m totally bailing on those jerks).  I was originally planning on going back to London because I have a fantastic agency there but this really funny thing happened where I don’t have a boyfriend there anymore so New York it is!  Did I mention there is no air conditioning in my sublet and today it was 97 degrees?  Oh I didn’t? Well there’s not and it fucking is.  The ghetto home depot down the street is out of air conditioners and I’m only in this apartment for two more weeks so fuck it.  I keep saying (out loud to myself because there’s no one else here) in Kramer’s voice, “it’s like a sauna in here!”  That episode is also the one where George gets accosted for double-dipping a chip and Elaine “accidentally” trips into Jerry’s girlfriend to see if her breasts are real.  It’s amazing how much great shit is packed into one Seinfeld episode.

Oh, I cried again on the way home because I felt ugly and fat.  HAHA I love being a woman!  I had a casting this morning for a job where they would paint a dress on my body and take photos for a campaign.  I had to stand in my bra and underwear in front of three people who I imagined were disgusted by my random mystery leg bruises and sunburnt shoulders.  I didn’t eat anything before that casting because even one blueberry would make me look fat.  That’s a sentence I just typed and an actual thought that went through my mind today.  No, I don’t have body-image issues.  Don’t be ridiculous!  As I left that casting I walked past a line of models who were taller and prettier than me.  Well, from my perspective.

It’s been a rough day, guys.

What do you do when you feel awful?  You call a friend who is nice enough to say you’re a fucking idiot for having those thoughts.  Another thing you do is NOT go to Topshop to try on skirts because the lighting in those dressing rooms is awful.  Get it together, Topshop.  I totally would’ve bought that blue skirt had the lighting not made me look like Powder after getting kicked in the shins.

BRB, forgot to take my Lexapro.

12 thoughts on “It’s Really F***ing Hot in NYC”

  1. When you’re having a bad day, I recommend looking at the U.K. modelling video you posted recently. Fabulous! I’ve never been inside my head as much as you are,but I’ve never been confused with a runway or print model. It sure makes for some interesting reading. Love your posts!

  2. Why is not havingn a London boyfriend stopping you from going? Make your decisions based on what is best for you. If you have a great agency…

  3. Its horrendously hot in Brooklyn right now and im thankful for my air conditioner, quiet apartment, and bottle of summer ale. Not sure how you are handling it without those neccessities but good luck. Walk on over if u begin to faint.

  4. I agree with the several other commenters: why not go back to London? I do understand if its hard because of the memories, chance of seeing the ex, and so on. But London is a huge city so you may not see him, and wouldn’t the opportunities outweigh the risk? Plus, it would be less hot, maybe better lighting in Topshop…

  5. I agree. Go to London. It’s probably less hot, the lighting in Topshop might be better. Plus why let some lame ex boyfriend prevent you from booking a bunch of awesome jobs? Future Melissa might be mad at you for that. Though you couldn’t make that sweet Seinfeld quote anymore…maybe quote curb your enthusiasm in London instead.

  6. I mean the good thing about not having a boyfriend anywhere is that you are free to go wherever is best for you and your career? Hopefully you do go work in London if you’ve got a great agency there, ex boyfriends be damned. I mean I get it (considering I unfriended/blocked my ex on every applicable social platform, as well as his entire family and all of his friends I wouldn’t reasonably hang out with outside that relationship), and NY is probably easier to find a place to stay than London, but hopefully you hop the pond again if it would suit your modelling. (Also, you know, London generally doesn’t ever get up to 97 degrees.)

  7. Agreed on the top shop dressing rooms. I walked out of there the other day empty handed as usual. I’m guessing your hesitation on London is not having him to stay with because that place is so absurd expensive. It will come together. Being a woman (or human) sucks sometimes too. But to answer your question, when I feel awful I sporadically cry over nothing and wonder what I can do to feel normal again. Waiting it out helps as does wine, the spa, blogging/journaling or just staying away from people who will be annoying. Working out also. Good luck and I’m sending you some empathy vibes because we’ve all been there. Feel better.

  8. When it’s hot in the city, the public library is the best place for free air conditioning and meeting people. the rosary room at the main library in the city- you know, next to bryant park, site of carry bradshaws failed wedding—no tourists, close to midtown/all trains for castings and clean bathrooms. Doesn’t get any better. lol.

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