She'll Take It Read Online Free PDF

beginning to think the problem boiled down to this: In acting, your body is your instrument, and my instrument has cellulite.
    Just to add to my jealousy, Kim actually gets modeling work while I’m still dragging myself to crummy audition after crummy audition and zippo. I hadn’t done anything since my off-, off-, off-, off-Broadway show four months ago. It was about a psychotic killer who joins a convent. I played a nun with nymphomania. I had four lines. Seven, if you counted “Oh God, oh God, oh God” as three. It ran less than a week, and I didn’t exactly get paid. In fact, after headshots, rehearsal fees, posters, programs, and mass mailings, it kind of cost me over a thousand dollars.
    And then there’s the two hundred I spent on the herbal wrap that was supposed to melt away unsightly inches overnight. (It didn’t. Instead I smelled like cabbage for the next two days, and everyone kept their distance. Maybe that was the point. The farther away people get from you, the thinner you look!) But it’s all right. I put everything on my Visa. I figure I’ll have it paid off in ten months. Ten months is nothing. If you’re not willing to invest in yourself, how can you expect anyone else to? I would be fine. I just needed a good, long temp assignment. But Jane Greer had been ignoring my calls all week. Until this.
    â€œWell I’m not worried,” I lie. “So she wants to see me. It’s not like I’ve done anything wrong.” This wasn’t exactly true. I’d had a slew of nightmare assignments lately, and it’s just possible that on one of them I had a teeny, tiny bit of an attitude. I was processing loan applications for an insurance company, which in itself is enough to make anyone want to slit their throat and write “Save Me” with their blood on the cubicle walls, but for a creative person like me, the job was absolute torture. My immediate supervisor, Tom Spencer, had the nerve to tell me that I’d be a knockout if I would just “lose a little in the caboose.” The fact that I was eating a Cinnabon at the time made it all the more humiliating. So it’s possible that when the condescending asshole offered me a full-time job, it’s just possible, that I told him I’d rather strip naked and hang myself from the bank of fluorescent lights than work for him.
    Well, that’s what I meant to say—but if memory serves me correct, I think I might have slipped and said, “I’d rather strip naked and hang myself from the bank of fluorescent lights than sleep with you .” I didn’t mean to, but he was giving me a lascivious look, and I was imagining his fat, hairy body lowering onto mine like a net full of dead, wet fish when he offered me the job.
    â€œWell good luck,” Kim says again. “Juan’s for dinner?”
    â€œYou think it’s that bad?” Juan’s is our favorite Mexican dive around the corner. We go there anytime one of us has a crisis and commiserate with our “Three Musketeers”— Grease, Salt, and Tequila. Kim stops flipping the pages of Vogue and flashes me a discount smile. “Definitely Juan’s,” I agree, fighting back tears.
    She wiggles her toes. “You can borrow something if you’d like.”
    I nod and head into her room.
    Unlike mine, Kim’s bedroom is immaculate. It’s like a mini Barneys. She has loads of clothes, makeup, and accessories that she gets from photo shoots and sample sales. I could spend days in here. But I know what I want. Her baby blue cashmere sweater. I remove it from the pink silk hanger and cradle it in my arms. Pure bliss. I know what you might be thinking, but you’d be wrong. I have rules about stealing, and I never take from friends or family. Kim’s things are safe with me, and I know I’m extremely lucky that she is so generous with her things. It’s one of the reasons I put up