Why on earth am I doing this?

Well I'll tell you. My girlfriend, who I have the sex with, is always delighted by my emails. Finally, she says to me (in an email), "You should start a blog."

Now, I'm a bit old school. I've always thought that this whole blogging thing was pretty pointless. In fact, I still do to a great extent. However, one thing that I absolutely love to do is give my opinions. I mean I really love to talk about what is on my mind. It's a bit of a sickness. In fact, I suspect that my girlfriend, who I have the sex with, suggested this blogging thing as a means of stemming the tide on my cascade of opinions.

So here it is. My first blog. Great. Hooray. Welcome to the new millenium. So what exactly do I talk about now. Now that my blogiverse cherry is being popped with each word that I type. It's not like my life is actually all that interesting. My God, that's it. I will use this inaguaral blog to introduce my anonymous self.

OK, great. Who am I? What do I do? Why do I have so much free time on my hands to write emails to my girlfriend, who (well you get the idea)? For starters, I'm an actor. Not just any actor. A New York Actor to be exact.

Not that there's anything wrong with actors from other parts of the world. It's just that there's a very unique brand of self-rightousness that can only be found in New York City. Maybe it comes from the fact that it's so freaking crowded in this town. But actually, I think it has more to do with the fact that it's so freaking expensive. If you want to be an actor here, by gum you're going to have to work for it. And work hard. (That's right, I said by gum)

Basically, if you want to be an actor in this town, you've got to be insane. However, if you can somehow make it work, you have something to be incredibly proud of. Ergo, a more than normally inflated ego just might be in order.

Moving on to the next question of why I have so much free time, it's very simple. Or incredibly complicated, depending on how you look at it. I'm in what you might call a transitional period. I have a job. In fact, I have several. But none of them kick into full gear for another few weeks or so.

But wait Mr. Anonymous Virgin Blogger Man. That's incredibly vague. What are you transitioning from? What are you transitioning to? OK Timmy (if that is you're real name) I'll tell you. Like many New York Actors, I chose to make my living in the restaurant industry. It was supposed to be perfect. A fun environment where you don't actually have to be responsible. If you have an audition or a show or a movie shoot, you just call out of work. It's all very fabulous, right? Not right. In fact, it's the opposite of right. It's wrong.

First of all, they want you to show up for all of your shifts. On top of that, you have to work the entire shift. I mean where do they get off. Or, if you have a conflict, you have to find someone to cover your shift. Which, quite frankly, is humiliating. You practically have to beg. So the truth of the matter is, it's not really as much of a slacker job as one might be lead to believe.

But then there's the actually crappiness of the job itself. You are forced to run around on your feet (of all things) for anywhere from 6 to 12 hours a shift. And isn't there something just a little sadistic about employing people to serve, talk about, and be around food for an exhausting amount of hours without letting them eat. I'm sure there some philosophical German term that would describe such abuse. Either way, it's pretty goddamn cruel.

So I left that industry rather abruptly. And when I say abruptly, I mean I had a slight mental breakdown and decided that I shouldn't go to work anymore. Which, on the one hand, is incredibly liberating. But, on the other, is incredibly immature and, well, crazy.

Well I could go on and on and on. And you what? I will go on...in future blogs. I think I like this blogging thing. There is something very liberating about this whole process. Maybe it's the feeling that I have an audience with which to share my mindless ramblings. Even though there is absolutely no truth whatsoever to that delusional sensation.

For whatever reason, I am enjoying this process. Even an old school cat like myself (I'm 34 by the way) can change with the times. So for all of my imaginary readers out there. Be sure to tune in to the next exciting chapter of my personal history.