Wing Man Bait

First Professional Model Shoot 

You know who they are, you’ve met them, had dinners with them, work with them, you may even be one. The wing man. 

As essential as a good pick up line, the wing man has existed as long as men have been picking up women. Invented to full fill the need for assistance in dating, the most popular move of this esteemed position is usually to charm the less attractive friend of a hot, more desirable women. Said wing man then keeps her distracted and entertained while his boy hook, lines, and sinks the hotty. Boom!

It has been hypothesis that the whole evolution of this position was created entirely for dealing with me. For my entire adolescence and most of my 20’s I was the slightly overweight, (Or sometimes eloquently referred to as “Thick”), awkward friend, with a flirtation handicapped that some poor sap would mock interest with while his lucky buddy slides right in with whatever super model, belle of the ball, friend I’m with at the time and basically I look like an ass. It took a long time for me to cause on to this.

Smooth.

Performing in an Alice Cooper Tribute Band

I think that’s where my addiction for the spotlight really started. Oh we could go back farther and reflect on the fact I was constantly the new kid, constantly in new schools, constantly having to start over again and make new friends. Or the fact while everyone would be rocking whatever trend of the 90’s, I was stuck in Kmart jeans therefore ostracized by pre-teen society. One could look back at my early life and realize I was constantly in a state of having to prove myself, be seen, and fit in, only to then have to move and start all over again. So maybe it started earlier than my teens but I never really noticed until I was forced to make small talk with some guy, (we didn’t even have the option to mindlessly cruise our smartphones back then) while his buddy, or buddies for that matter, talked up whatever thinner, prettier, more socially adequate friend, roommate, or teammate I was out with, who then got rained all the love and praise and free drinks of a B-list celebrity. Course you say anything to your friend about it and you’ll get the same line…

“Oh my god, you’re being ridiculous. You’re so pretty, boys are dumb”

Singing with the husband

Then they’d flip their hair, call you dramatic and drink their free sex on the beach.

My First Time Being Published As A Model 

I was bitter about it then but now as I reflect I can honestly say, I have those moments to thank. People who get it easy, never have to try, so they settle. When things just fall in place, what is there to work for? The need to constantly adapt and need to be seen as my own person is what put me on stages with a microphone, put in behind a camera, forced me to if anything, be interesting. There came a point I decided I was sick of being the typical funny best friend in every romantic comedy and to be, something of my own.

Maybe I’m a tool, maybe I am pathetic and all my crazy attempts and projects and in the end all my ideas become fails. Nether the less in the end I can say I tried, and I did something, and I had adventures. I have gotten to meet a lot of great people. Worked with talented photographers and make-up artists. Even got published a few times. I’ve gotten to sing with some pretty talented musicians. Even came in 3^rd in a Rock Girl competition which was basically a glorified edgy beauty pageant. Not bad for the chunky girl in the Walmart clothes from a small town.

I don’t ever expect to be famous. I don’t think that’s ever been the goal. I don’t know what I plan on doing with my life or with any of these little projects and endeavors. The point is sometimes you just have to say “screw it”, a do something that scares you.  

Where do you see yourself in 5-10 years?

Me in a Pin Up Shoot

"Where do you see yourself in 5-10 years?"

That’s the age old question isn’t it? By 31 years old and 2 degrees in business you’d think I’d know, but as I faced my current boss in a 1 on 1 meeting I couldn’t even hold in my laugh because I’ve been trying to figure that out my whole life. 

 I mean think about it. From kindergarten it’s plowed in our heads that if we want to be a successful and have a good job we have to go to college. If you don’t go to college you’ll be doomed to scrub toilets or work in fast food for the rest of our life.

Then junior and senior year of high school we’re told we have to pick our major and college choice.  So basically at 16-17 years old we pretty much are being asked, ok, “what do you want to do with your life? Choose now!” (And it better be good, because you’re about to be in $40,000+ debt after graduation that you’ll be paying off for a life time.)

So here I am, 17 year old Casey, who can’t even commit to a hair color for longer than a month, trying to figure what I want to be as a grown up because apparently that’s happening now.  They tell you to think about what your interests and passion are and go from there. Well I was a blue haired (that day), lip pierced, punk kid with a tattoo that was also the captain of the cheerleading team.  My passions basically consisted of loud music, tattoos, and sleeping until 2 in the afternoon. The public state colleges didn’t offer a major in “rock star” and my family pretty much shot down all my thoughts and dreams of going into art school, so I just picked the most basic concentration I could think of… business.

Working the TV camera at my internship

I figured at least with a business degree I could own a cool bar and music venue and that seemed pretty good and as close as I’ll ever get to the ideal life. Here’s the problem that. BUSINESS SUCKS. It’s boring, soul killing, the classes are the worst, and after all that, the end result is being shackled to a cubicle making small talk at the coffee machine in the company lounge with a woman named Carol who’s just so excited about her upcoming kitchen appliance party and her kid’s big solo in the holiday recital. That being said, I still played the game. I want to college I majored in Business Administration and then Sport Management. I went to class, I went to parties, I was on the swim team all 4 years, did my internship with the Binghamton Mets in Video Production, really made a go of the whole college experience. Then I graduated. 

Now What?

Life Guarding for the Summer at a State Park

Most people I graduated with ended up pursing more college and more debt, in attempts to find a career in any field that would hire. I had a few impressive interviews such as Madison Square Garden but they didn’t want to a hire an upstate kid that would have to relocate despite reassuring them I’d work extra jobs and do whatever it took.  After fail after miserable fail, I finally went into substitute teaching because I really needed to work and, well, why the hell not.  Since then I’ve been a teacher, a lifeguard, a t-shirt screen printer, a grocery checkout girl (that was a low point), a tattoo artist (That was a high point), a veterinary tech assistant, amateur pin up model, and a bridal sales consultant. I’ve had a lot of experiences and been a lot of places however as I sit in front of my boss, an amazing women who owns two successful businesses, I realize I have no idea what I’m doing with my life.

Working in an Animal Hospital

I’ve come to the age where I feel I’m at a crossroads.  There is the part of me that’s thinking about the future and that I should probably be doing something with benefits and a retirement plan.  Something that lets me out early in the day and have weekends and holidays off as well as paid vacation so I can actually pursue the things I enjoy in life. However a job like that may also result in me hanging myself in my cubicle/office/work station by the age of 55 because at that point I’ve pretty much sold my soul to the working system and become a zombie. So then the other option is pursuing a job that actually involves things I’m interested in and enjoy. Unfortunately that usually means having no kind of benefits or growth or future developments.  Most of the time it’s unstable, and usually occupies night and weekends which kills a lot of options given to people who normally are off at those times. So what am I? The artist or the responsible worker? Is this adulting? Do I have to choose?

Meanwhile kids 10 years younger than me are making a living writing silly blogs (oh the irony) or talking about their feelings and excitement about doing their eyebrows on YouTube and never actually have clock into a job ever and make all their bills. Doing literally nothing. I went wrong somewhere, I missed that brochure in the guidance office. So where do I go now? I don’t know, but I know I can’t be alone. I guess that’s what this blog is. A journey of discovering identity, pursuit of happiness, and cats. May there always be cats.

Me Tattooing