I didn't pack my blades. I wanted to but I didn't. I felt lousy enough as it was and just didn't feel like carrying an extra bag. Richie called while I was getting ready. That made me rush even more. I called Amber and left the apartment. Clothes stuffed in my backpack, my laptop in my TRL messenger.

The tourist-shuffle at Grand Central and I was at Eric's apartment in no time. I hadn't seen Amber in a long while. We hung around the apartment for a while. I was totally determined to do everything on my 'things to do while I'm in the city' list. I think Amber might be the only one who's even close to understanding how I feel. I like talking to her a lot. She's just the sweetest person. I got a copy of the Village Voice when we dropped by Barnes & Noble.

I browsed throught the paper while walking. I especially like reading the bulletins on the back. I often wonder if the people who place those "You smiled at me on the subway. I wore a baseball cap and blue jeans. You were blonde with boobies the size of Texas" type ads .... if they find the person they talk about. I mean ... how many million people live in New York City? And what are the odds that the person who smiled at you on the subway even reads the Village Voice?

I should placed one someday.

"You were the moron who stared at me the whole time. Five frickin stops. We even transferred together and all you did was just smile instead of actually talking to me. I was the guy in the blue jeans and yellow tee which read 'Life's a bitch so I became one'. Oh oh .... and I was rolling my eyes the whole time. You're a dumbass .... Call me?"

Walking with Amber and reading that stuff to her and laughing felt great and it was the first time in a long while ... I smiled ... and laughed ... and meant it. Jokingly I read one of the 'Models wanted' ads.

"You should call, Angel Boi!"

"Uh huh ... umm .. yah. I'm not model material, Amber. I was kidding around."

"I'm serious. I'm sure you don't need a worker's permit to do that. You can make some extra money to get an apartment."

We stood there on the sidewalk for a while.

"You're thin. You're goodlooking," continued Amber. "Couldn't hurt to just call."

We browsed through a couple stores and headed back to the apartment. When we got back Amber called one of the numbers for the modelling agencies. In no time at all I heard the words: "Tomorrow at 1:30? Thanks."

I wasn't about to fool myself into thinking that I'd be a model or something but the thought that I had a ... chance was pretty cool. I looked through the classifieds .... apartment hunting. I found and circled a couple ads that seemed pretty good. One was a female looking for a male or female roommate. 550 bucks rent. No deposit and I could move in immediately. I quickly called up.

I turned out to be an agency. Transworld Roommates (I think). I wasn't really into that before. I mean ... they charge you like three ... four hundred to find you a place and then you have to pay rent. I mean ... I can barely afford that y'know. But ... what else am I gonna do? I'm having no luck. The whole thing's got me feeling incredibly depressed. I'm basically going insane. I don't have a lot of options anymore.

When I started out first ... like last fall ... I was sooo picky. I didn't even want to think about getting a roommate. I knew exactly what I wanted ... and if it wasn't just that ... forget it! Now ... I'm ... *holds his index finger and thumb a half-inch apart* .... this close to getting a cardboard box.

I called and setup an appointment with the agency for 6 and got ready. The woman on the phone asked me a few questions. I called Husani's office before I left. I sorta wanted his view on the whole thing. Husani doesn't bullshit. He tells you how it is. I called a couple times and he wasn't at the office. It took me a while to find the agency. Takes me a while to find pretty much anywhere. I have the rare ability to get lost in a paper bag. I get lost so easily that I've gotten used to it actually.

The woman I spoke to on the phone was just as nice in person. I looked at the pictures on the wall. I suspect they're happy customers or something. A whole collage of pictures. Pictures of real people. I answered some more questions and then she asked if I had a credit card. Dun dun duuuun! No I don't. And I don't have 300 bucks on me either. She told me it was ok and that I could always call back or fax the information over. She setup another appointment with me on Wednesday.

I left there feeling .... positive. I ran to the first payphone I saw outside and called Husani's office again. This time ... the guy himself answered. After getting lost yet again ... I hopped on the train and went over to Husani's. The whole gang was there. Sometimes I feel as if I'm bothering them or something and they don't want me around ... or at least for too long. I didn't have anythign else to do and I was totally bored.