lornagrl

Working in the nude...

This story piqued my interest because I used to make my living as a nude artist’s model.

That’s right.

I got my first modeling job when I was eighteen. I was looking for a way to pay the bills between acting gigs and I didn’t want to wait tables. Some friends of mine told me about it so I asked them to call me if they wanted a night off.

I wasn’t sure I would have the guts to stand naked in front of strangers. I felt a wave of panic as I approached the podium but It went away as soon as I dropped the robe to the floor.  I started with thirty-second poses to warm the class up and instinct took over.  It all came naturally to me. One of the students remarked during the break that I seemed like I had been doing this for years.  He was surprised it was my first night.

The work was easy to get.  I suppose it’s hard to find people willing to take their clothes off in the south. The pay was pretty good and I could set my own hours. When I moved to Orlando, Florida in 1991 I was able to get work right away by calling a few colleges and art schools.  I would often get work via word of mouth from art instructors and other students.  Once in a while I would be called to work for private artists but I had to be very careful with that.  I would only accept work if they were referred to me by someone I knew very well.

Working naked is a strange way to make a living.  Friends would ask me if I ever felt self-conscious. Some colleges had a “no nudity policy” and would request I model in a leotard or bathing suit.  That felt far more awkward.  Once I was modeling at Disney animation.  They would hire me to model for their animators so they would stay  limber. (once in a while they would put me in a costume.) Once I was standing nude in the middle of a conference table while the artists were scribbling on their sketch pads and  a secretary got quite a surprise when she walked in to bring a message for the art director. 

The nudity was not what made the job difficult. The challenge was boredom and pain. Five minutes would seem like an hour and in modeling there is no such thing as a comfortable pose. After twenty-minutes, limbs would fall asleep and muscles would contract.  I remember getting up from a long sustained pose and collapsing straight to the floor. The circulation was cut off on my left leg and I didn’t even know it. It was ten minutes before I could feel any sensation. 

I pretty much retired from modeling when I move to NYC.  I worked a little bit in art galleries in Brooklyn but I stopped because the pay wasn’t good enough. 

I guess more people are willing to take their clothes off in New York City.   

I suppose I could blame it on the chemo...

I've been pretty lucky.  I sailed thru chemo.  Aside from getting woozy for a few days after treatment and going bald, it really wasn't that bad.  Sure my toenails turned black and fell off, my bones ached a little, I sometimes get tingly in the toes and I just learned today that my ovaries are taking a nap and may never wake up. But all in all I thought it was a pretty good trade off from ....oh....let's just say it... DEATH.

Another side effect I was hoping not to experience was chemo brain.  I was proud to say that I had no sign or symptoms of this. At least not until this morning.

I was so sure that today was the New York Primaries.  I got up, dug out my new voter regisrtation card and walked toward the polling station.  I almost called my office to tell them "I'm going to be late this morning because I gotta go vote."  When I noticed there were no "vote here" signs that I began to wonder if I had the wrong day. 

Turns out the New York Primaries are February  5th.

I feel like such an air head.

Coney Island Reception Hosptial

There used to be a hospital on my block.

Coney Island Reception Hosptial was a two story six bed hosptial that  opened in 1901. It was set up as a first aid station for Coney Island visitors and  was only open from April thru October. 

I am not sure when it closed but I'm guessing around 1925.

This apartment building stands there today...

Finis...

I completed my radiation treatments today.  They gave me a little diploma too, which I thought was sweet.

I have a nasty, painful burn because I was thoroughly cooked and it's going to take a few weeks before it completely heals. 

So am I cured?

The American Cancer Society considers a patient cured if they have gone five years cancer free.  In cases of breast cancer, those years start ticking the day the patient begins Tamoxifen.  So in my case I will be declared "cured" on December 17th 2013, when I will be 44 years old.

But breast cancer, unfortunately, has been known to come back decades later. I've survived, but cancer is going to be hanging over my head for the rest of my life. Every cough, every ache and pain is going to send a fleeing thought "is this the cancer coming back?"  I'm not complaining and I'm not feeling sorry for myself.  It's just a fact, and it's the card I've been dealt.

Here's to the rest of my life....
 

The Poe Shadow

The infamous Poe Toaster has left his annual gift with no mishap  even though nearly 150 spectators were on the scene. 

Each year on  Edgar Allan Poe's birthday a stranger leaves a rose and a half bottle of cognac on the writer's grave.  It is believed  the tradition started in 1949, but a former church historian and advertising executive has claimed he developed this scheme as a publicity stunt in the 70's.  However Jeff Jerome, curator of the Poe House and Museum disputes this. Nevertheless, I'm sure it's a great show.

I picked up The Poe Shadow at Barnes and Noble this weekend.  It's a fictional account of a lawyer investigating the mystery around Poe's death.  It was assumed Poe died of alcoholism but the cause of death has never been confirmed.  Poe was found wandering, and incoherent in the streets of Baltimore  in clothes that did not belong to him and taken to Washington College Hospital where he died four days later.  One theory is he was a victim of cooping, a practice  common at the time where people were forced against their will to vote numerous times for a specific candidate. Victims were often drugged, plowed with drink, and taken to various polls which may explain the strange clothes.

Perhaps next January, I will take a take a trip to Baltimore.

Burn baby burn...(three more to go)

I have four three more radiation treatments left.  Just in the nick of time too because I have a pretty nasty radiation burn.  Before treatment on Friday I saw the nurse who prescribed a tea salve and Aquaphor cream.  I don't want to get burned any further but I also don't want to stop because, well there are only three more.

Overall radiation has been a bit of a pain in the ass.  I have to go EVERY weekday, usually after work.  I spend more time getting changed and set up than then I spend getting treatment.

It goes like this:

I get to the cancer center usually around 5pm. The receptionist usually tells me to go right in.  I go to a locker room, take off my shirt and put on a robe.  Because of the burn, I haven't been wearing a bra, just a cotton t-shirt and usually something loose fitting like a hoodie.  I then wait in the "gowned waiting area".  There are usually other people waiting too but not all the time because my appointment is at the end of the day.  Some look very sick and are accompanied by family members, and others look very healthy and like myself, are probably still going to work everyday. 

A technician will call my name and tell me either room one, or room two.  I see my chart (it's a very thick chart these days) on the table with a photo of my bald self.  They ask for my birth date, then I walk into a semi dark room and lay on what must be the most uncomfortable table ever invented.

By now, I'm pretty good at getting into the right position for treatment. I worked as an artist's model for years where I would do long sustained poses and would have to get back into the exact position after a break.  I got pretty good at it. Nevertheless, the technicians still have to line me up exactly.  There are beams of light emanating from opposite walls that help them do this.  Even though I have little tatoos on my chest to help them, they still write on me with a sharpie pen. 

Once I'm lined up they leave the room and a three-foot thick door slowly closes and seals me in. There is silence, for a few minutes, then an annoying buzz.  The buzz lasts a minute maybe two.  Then the technicians come back in and set me up for the next position. 

It all takes about ten minutes. 

I was only scheduled for 25 treatments which is a low amount.  I was lucky, I had clean margins and no evidence of further spread.  Most breast cancer patients have 36 treatments.  I imagine I would have to take a break if that were the case.  This burn is pretty uncomfortable.

No leash for Ophelia....

I tried a little experiment this weekend. 

Some developers built a condo in the back of my apartment building. I used to have a view of an elevated Q train running to Stillwell Avenue but since they put the condo up, this view is now obstructed. Pretty soon some idiot is going to pay $500,000 for a condo that will be even closer to the Q train than my $884 rent stabilized studio apartment.  While this is a good thing there is a trade off.  I have almost no light. This apartment is dark most of the time.

This would be a drag if I had to spend all my time here but I’m usually only home at night so it doesn’t matter. But Ophelia is here all the time.  She doesn’t get any light at all.  When I come home from work and turn on the light she blinks her eyes because she’s been in darkness all day long.

I figured being in darkness most of the time cannot be very healthy. So I thought I would try taking her outside once in a while.  Now I know that sounds crazy but lot’s of people do take their cats out on a leash.  I see them on the boardwalk all the time and in fact, I bought Ophelia a leash when she was a kitten and even took her out once or twice.  But I had cancer this summer and wasn’t really focused on leash training my cat.  I’m better now so this weekend I thought that I would give the leash another whirl.

Getting the leash on her was no problem, however when I carried her into the hallway she started to tremble much like she did as a four week old kitten, when she realized I was taking her away from her litter mates.  I thought about turning back but I didn’t want to give up too quickly.  I thought if I could just get across the street to the park and sit on a bench, she would calm down a bit but she wouldn’t stop trembling.  I set her down on the grass but she immediately tried to climb back up my leg.  She was having none of this outdoor crap.   

I figured the lack of light cannot be worse than the possible heart attack she may get if I take her outside.  So much for leash training.

Cats are nocturnal anyway.

 

CIDC Information Session: Only one arrest (that I know of anyway)

The Coney Island Development Corporation held a community information session this evening.  This information session was to announce their plans for rezoning and how they plan to improve the area. Since I live a stone's throw away from Coney Island, I decided to go. 

There has been quite a bit of Coney Island hoopla over the last few years. If you are not from New York (or maybe you are) you may not know that there have been plans to refurbish Coney Island, which has had many incarnations over the years.  Local residents and business owners have been both eager and skeptical about the changes.  Debate on the hotel/beach front condo/amusement ratio has been a very hot topic of late. All this "redevelopment" may be a ruse to build overpriced luxury condos (like we need more of those) and force out long time residents and businesses.  Needless to say, there are people who are very sensitive to whats going on out here.

I sat near the front during the power point presentation of all the plans.  They showed us exactly where they were going to place the residential areas and hotels, and how the plans were not going to involve high rise buildings close to the shore etc.  Everyone was pretty quiet and listening with interest. 

Except for one man.

He sat two seats down from me, a heavy set man with leathery skin.  He reeked of alcohol and breathed heavily.  He was quiet at first but that didn't last. The poor woman conducting the presentation managed to maintain her composure while he belted out protests like: yuppie enclave, minimum wage jobs and dream based on the machine.  I think he believed that others would follow suit but he just pissed people off.  After a few outbursts some cops came by and stood next to him.  They didn't escort him out.  He left on his own when the presentation was completed, but the cops arrested him when he got outside. 

I'm not sure what they could have charged him with. Public drunkenness I suppose.

Brighton Beach Kitten

For the past few weeks I've noticed this little kitten in front of an apartment building on Ocean Parkway.

There is a cat colony there and I've seen a lot of cats come and go.  But it seems that all the cats have left, and this kitten is on his own.  I see him every morning on my way to the subway either eating some canned food that someone has left for him or playing.  The other night when we had that cold snap I noticed him curled up tight at the door of the apartment building.  He will walk up to people but won't let anyone touch him. 

If I could catch him, I would try to find a home for him.  He seems very smart and has quite a spark about him. 

btw.  This had me in tears.

Polar Girl

  polar girl 
  Originally uploaded by ConeyHOP.

Check out the chick on the right with the red hat, behind the camera...

That's me!!

(snagged from coneyhop.)