That was a fun adventure. I went to the park, since the weather is so pretty and everyone in the world is outside. And who do I run into but Marietta! We had a really lovely conversation and caught up a little on each others' lives. She lives right around the corner from me (by which I mean like, six avenues and seven streets over, but I digress, we're in the same neighborhood); it's a little funny because I was just asking Helen on Wednesday if she knew what neighborhood Marietta was in (Helen's response was, "...Brooklyn?"). Small, random world.
My flight in was a bit tumultuous; there was some issue with my ticket - because I changed flights, JetBlue charged a rebooking fee and they said the payment didn't go through. Well, this was one of those times where technology is a blessed thing, and I pulled up my bank statement on my iPhone and said, "Oh hell no, that $115 went through, bitches!" (Minus the "bitches." And the "hell, no.") I even waved my iPhone around to prove I was right (not sure how that actually proved anything, to be honest, but it felt like an appropriate gesture of irritation). And then I gave them the transaction number and that squared everything away.
So then I went through security (they didn't do the weird hand wiping thing, I noticed. Mildly disappointed. I'd like to think they're checking me for sweaty palms and I pass the test. "Yes ma'am, you are sufficiently not too clammy for this flight.") and got on the plane and that was all fine and good. And the flight was fine too, except for the part where we were literally just about to land and the plane suddenly tipped up and started ascending again. Of course, everyone in the cabin began murmuring nervously and looking out the window in confusion. A moment later the flight attendant came over the PA and said, "Well, for those of you who have never experienced this before, I think we're doing a go-around...but I, uh, have no idea why." Oh great, that's great. For some reason unseen to us we can't land the plane. This elicits more murmuring and the flight attendant hurriedly adds, "But there's no cause for alarm!"
A few minutes later the pilot comes over the system and elaborates, "Well, AirTran is taking its good sweet time getting their planes off the runway!" Well, excellent. There wasn't a huge plane crash just before our landing, or a terrorist attack, or something. It was just AirTran. Nicely done, guys. Way to be.
**
So, I'm back in Brooklyn.
I remember those first weeks at UNCG, right after I transferred and I was working on Sweeney Todd as an electrician. I remember before each work call I would sit in the women's bathroom and steel myself - I kept repeating, "This is where you live now and this is where you work now and you have to make this work. This is your home now." And sometime in my second semester it all clicked and I made it work.
I can cite a million things instances like that. Things always somehow work out, but I worry them to death until they do. It's just who I am. I'm hoping to grow out of my tendency to freak out any day now.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Friday, May 27, 2011
I ask forgiveness, for the things I've done you blame me for.
Brief thoughts on the season finale of Glee -
So, this past Wednesday was quite the entertaining day. It was Carnival/Fun Day at my mother's preschool. Which somehow involved me filling up hundreds* of water balloons. And I didn't even get to play in the bouncy castle (yes, there was a bouncy castle. For the record, my preschool totally never had a bouncy castle. I think we had an Apple IIe and a rocking horse, and a seemingly unending supply of Cheez-Its). The kids had a good time (but seriously, if you had a bouncy castle at your disposal, how could you NOT?), which was fortunate because everyone present over the age of 6 certainly looked worn out by the end of it - and if no one enjoyed themselves, then that would shake my belief in the power of the bouncy castle.
I went out with Helen on Wednesday night. I drove into Chapel Hill and we ate dinner at this terrific Vietnamese place, and then sat in the park and ate ice cream. I think the highlight of the evening was taking a joyride in her friend's borrowed BMW convertible. It made me feel like I was in college again - driving down the main drag of a college town, top down, blasting some kind of ridiculous hip hop music or something.
Yesterday I went out with Stephen, and we indulged in bad Japanese food at a little hole in the wall kind of place off of Wendover. I told him he needs to move up to New York already (I told Helen this too, actually) because the city would be so much more fun for me if they were up there. For serious. I'm slowly realizing that all my favorite people are, if not scattered across the country, in North Carolina.
Today I helped out at the preschool again, since it was the last day of school and nothing quite implies anarchy like the last day of school. Now I'm watching a show called "New York Originals" and it's about home-grown shops and restaurants and bars in the city. I'm fascinated by a place called Let There Be Neon down in Soho. If only I was more well-versed in neon, that would be a really fun place to work! I mean, bending neon tubing can't be any harder than all that analytical chem lab stuff I used to do, where I bent and pulled glass tubes over a flame, right?
**
I, of course, remain apprehensive about returning to the city, but as someone much smarter than I am recently told me, "you're not ready to run home with your tail between your legs, not yet. Actually, not ever."
I'm trying very hard not to be sad. "Fake it till you make it," Jenn used to tell me. I suppose as far as this particular feeling goes, I have experienced much worse. But this is something that never gets easier no matter how many times I experience it - it's like the first time every time. More than anything I'm upset at my own weaknesses - or more specifically, how my weaknesses don't seem to lessen over time.
You know, I was re-reading my old livejournal, and there were things I wrote three or four years ago that I could have written yesterday. In 2006, when I was a sophomore at Randolph-Macon, I wrote about my then-boyfriend's upcoming visit. "I'm nervous about having Ryan come up to visit me, largely because of my issues with personal space." Even in college I didn't want to show my living space to my significant other - but then, my living situation then is a lot like my living situation now (as in, I'm living in a place that I simply cannot make my home...thus making it a place I don't want to be in and don't want to share). In 2007, during my semester off, I quoted the one Bible verse you will ever catch me quoting, and it resonates even more strongly for me now: Blessed are ye who weep now, for ye shall laugh. Wow, do I need that written in big letters on my wall, now more than ever!
I lament life change, depression, bulimia, life responsibilities, troubles with boys/relationships/sex/etc, problems with money, insecurities about my talents and my future at large, and they all sound like problems I still have. And it freaks me out. Am I doomed to never outgrow these problems, only to pile on new problems, never able to solve anything? This is a genuinely upsetting thought for me.
**
I'm going out to dinner tonight at another one of my favorite Asian restaurants. And come hell or high water, I'm eating at Don tomorrow. Not leaving town without eating some of that spicy tuna don.
*okay, it was like, maybe 40. But it was really hot outside and there were ants everywhere and LOOK IT JUST FELT LIKE A LOT, OKAY.
- Talk about a lot of converging plot lines. Holy tying-up-loose-ends-while-still-leaving-me-feeling-unsatisfied, Batman.
- I did love Kurt and Rachel's rendition of "For Good," (albeit their severely and awkwardly truncated version of it) but
- I enjoyed reading the live #glee tweets on my mom's iPad more.
- Stop with the original songs, Glee. Please. Please. You're making Ke$ha look thoughtful and introspective by comparison.
- Matthew Morrison is the world's worst chaperone.
- I...I hate Penelope Cruz. I just hate her. And she's particularly nails-on-a-chalkboard obnoxious in this role. Keira Knightley, while often comparably frustrating, was so much more interesting as a young-woman-of-breeding-turned-pirate than Penelope Cruz as...well, just a pirate. She looks hot but every time she spoke I wanted to hit a giant mute button.
- All those veiled sex jokes? Unnecessary and unfunny.
- Loved Vernon Dursley as King George II.
- Too many messy, pointless fight sequences.
- Just go see Bridesmaids instead.
So, this past Wednesday was quite the entertaining day. It was Carnival/Fun Day at my mother's preschool. Which somehow involved me filling up hundreds* of water balloons. And I didn't even get to play in the bouncy castle (yes, there was a bouncy castle. For the record, my preschool totally never had a bouncy castle. I think we had an Apple IIe and a rocking horse, and a seemingly unending supply of Cheez-Its). The kids had a good time (but seriously, if you had a bouncy castle at your disposal, how could you NOT?), which was fortunate because everyone present over the age of 6 certainly looked worn out by the end of it - and if no one enjoyed themselves, then that would shake my belief in the power of the bouncy castle.
I went out with Helen on Wednesday night. I drove into Chapel Hill and we ate dinner at this terrific Vietnamese place, and then sat in the park and ate ice cream. I think the highlight of the evening was taking a joyride in her friend's borrowed BMW convertible. It made me feel like I was in college again - driving down the main drag of a college town, top down, blasting some kind of ridiculous hip hop music or something.
Yesterday I went out with Stephen, and we indulged in bad Japanese food at a little hole in the wall kind of place off of Wendover. I told him he needs to move up to New York already (I told Helen this too, actually) because the city would be so much more fun for me if they were up there. For serious. I'm slowly realizing that all my favorite people are, if not scattered across the country, in North Carolina.
Today I helped out at the preschool again, since it was the last day of school and nothing quite implies anarchy like the last day of school. Now I'm watching a show called "New York Originals" and it's about home-grown shops and restaurants and bars in the city. I'm fascinated by a place called Let There Be Neon down in Soho. If only I was more well-versed in neon, that would be a really fun place to work! I mean, bending neon tubing can't be any harder than all that analytical chem lab stuff I used to do, where I bent and pulled glass tubes over a flame, right?
**
I, of course, remain apprehensive about returning to the city, but as someone much smarter than I am recently told me, "you're not ready to run home with your tail between your legs, not yet. Actually, not ever."
I'm trying very hard not to be sad. "Fake it till you make it," Jenn used to tell me. I suppose as far as this particular feeling goes, I have experienced much worse. But this is something that never gets easier no matter how many times I experience it - it's like the first time every time. More than anything I'm upset at my own weaknesses - or more specifically, how my weaknesses don't seem to lessen over time.
You know, I was re-reading my old livejournal, and there were things I wrote three or four years ago that I could have written yesterday. In 2006, when I was a sophomore at Randolph-Macon, I wrote about my then-boyfriend's upcoming visit. "I'm nervous about having Ryan come up to visit me, largely because of my issues with personal space." Even in college I didn't want to show my living space to my significant other - but then, my living situation then is a lot like my living situation now (as in, I'm living in a place that I simply cannot make my home...thus making it a place I don't want to be in and don't want to share). In 2007, during my semester off, I quoted the one Bible verse you will ever catch me quoting, and it resonates even more strongly for me now: Blessed are ye who weep now, for ye shall laugh. Wow, do I need that written in big letters on my wall, now more than ever!
I lament life change, depression, bulimia, life responsibilities, troubles with boys/relationships/sex/etc, problems with money, insecurities about my talents and my future at large, and they all sound like problems I still have. And it freaks me out. Am I doomed to never outgrow these problems, only to pile on new problems, never able to solve anything? This is a genuinely upsetting thought for me.
**
I'm going out to dinner tonight at another one of my favorite Asian restaurants. And come hell or high water, I'm eating at Don tomorrow. Not leaving town without eating some of that spicy tuna don.
*okay, it was like, maybe 40. But it was really hot outside and there were ants everywhere and LOOK IT JUST FELT LIKE A LOT, OKAY.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
you'll be the road, rolling below the wheels of a car.
So, my stay in Greensboro has been extended until Sunday. The weather is just too damn nice here, and as far as I can tell the weather in New York is going to be gross until approximately the end of forever. (Wait...wasn't that supposed to be Saturday?) Anyway. Being back home is surprisingly kind of great. Maybe because New York wears me thin so easily.
New York is the kind of place that, for someone like me, compels me to constantly run on very high adrenaline. Always moving, thinking, talking, processing - fast. I didn't really think about how goddamn exhausting that is until I laid in my old bed in my old bedroom the first night I came home, and slept like the dead for 16 hours. Let it be known that, in the city, I can never sleep like that, and I'd feared I'd lost the ability forever.
Anyway...other updates. I quit the club (or got fired...or something). I'm over that scene. I'm over a lot of scenes, actually, but that was at the top of the list of "scenes to be over."
I've been electricianing off-Broadway for a few weeks and it's been like a balm for my soul. There's something infinitely comforting about work that is simultaneously mindless and challenging. And physically tiring. And requires normal-people working hours. I hope I keep getting hired; I'm under the impression that the next few weeks will be busy. I need to know that I didn't make a mistake not doing another summerstock - although it may be better for me to stay in the city, even though I'd love to get out of the city for awhile.
No, I have to remind myself. Stick it out. I look in the mirror and tell myself stick it out. I've been re-reading Gone with the Wind and I find myself relating very strongly to Scarlett. You know, the part during the Reconstruction. Margaret Mitchell once said, "Some people survive; others don't. What qualities are in those who fight their way through triumphantly that are lacking in those that go under? I only know that survivors used to call that quality 'gumption.' So I wrote about people who had gumption and people who didn't."
Perhaps I have gumption. I charge into the world, over and over, even if I get beaten down with it. I don't like the idea of giving up. It rankles me. I need to take a breather but I ultimately must keep moving forward.
New York is the kind of place that, for someone like me, compels me to constantly run on very high adrenaline. Always moving, thinking, talking, processing - fast. I didn't really think about how goddamn exhausting that is until I laid in my old bed in my old bedroom the first night I came home, and slept like the dead for 16 hours. Let it be known that, in the city, I can never sleep like that, and I'd feared I'd lost the ability forever.
Anyway...other updates. I quit the club (or got fired...or something). I'm over that scene. I'm over a lot of scenes, actually, but that was at the top of the list of "scenes to be over."
I've been electricianing off-Broadway for a few weeks and it's been like a balm for my soul. There's something infinitely comforting about work that is simultaneously mindless and challenging. And physically tiring. And requires normal-people working hours. I hope I keep getting hired; I'm under the impression that the next few weeks will be busy. I need to know that I didn't make a mistake not doing another summerstock - although it may be better for me to stay in the city, even though I'd love to get out of the city for awhile.
No, I have to remind myself. Stick it out. I look in the mirror and tell myself stick it out. I've been re-reading Gone with the Wind and I find myself relating very strongly to Scarlett. You know, the part during the Reconstruction. Margaret Mitchell once said, "Some people survive; others don't. What qualities are in those who fight their way through triumphantly that are lacking in those that go under? I only know that survivors used to call that quality 'gumption.' So I wrote about people who had gumption and people who didn't."
Perhaps I have gumption. I charge into the world, over and over, even if I get beaten down with it. I don't like the idea of giving up. It rankles me. I need to take a breather but I ultimately must keep moving forward.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Need anything? Milk...soda...a joint?
"I just want to know if you think I should trust him."
"That's like asking if you should believe in God."
**
I know this feeling, and I hate this feeling. This is a feeling that has yet to end well. Worse, this is a feeling that I can't ever seem to learn anything from, despite getting beaten down with it over and over again.
I keep hoping that one day it's going to fucking work. Maybe this time will be different. Maybe because this time I still don't know if I want it to be different, it'll thusly be different, and I'll discover that's what I really want. Maybe the whole process only works when done in reverse.
"That's like asking if you should believe in God."
**
I know this feeling, and I hate this feeling. This is a feeling that has yet to end well. Worse, this is a feeling that I can't ever seem to learn anything from, despite getting beaten down with it over and over again.
I keep hoping that one day it's going to fucking work. Maybe this time will be different. Maybe because this time I still don't know if I want it to be different, it'll thusly be different, and I'll discover that's what I really want. Maybe the whole process only works when done in reverse.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
different is good as long as different is also stunning.
In the past three days, I designed, hung, focused, and teched yet another show. Yay me!
Last week at work was terrible - I had one really drunk customer I got stuck dealing with, and he was absolutely disgusting. I really like working at the club - I mean, I get paid to party, essentially - but every now and then I get a customer or a group of customers who are drunk and belligerent and think it's appropriate to scream insults at me as security escorts them out. All this drama, only because they hadn't paid their bill in full and I had the audacity to point it out. Sorry, sir, I don't care how often you come here or how much money you spend or how many bottles you order or how you and the manager are BFFs. You still have to pay, thanks. And tip. It's only polite.
Anyway. Otherwise things are all right. I had an amazing Greek dinner last night at this teeny place in Hell's Kitchen. Tonight, I plan on going to bed early - I've not been getting a lot of sleep the past week and I really should catch up.
So, in April I'm thinking of planning a weekend getaway...maybe upstate. I want to get in the car and drive somewhere I've never been and stay in a cute little place and revitalize myself. Could be fun, right?
Last week at work was terrible - I had one really drunk customer I got stuck dealing with, and he was absolutely disgusting. I really like working at the club - I mean, I get paid to party, essentially - but every now and then I get a customer or a group of customers who are drunk and belligerent and think it's appropriate to scream insults at me as security escorts them out. All this drama, only because they hadn't paid their bill in full and I had the audacity to point it out. Sorry, sir, I don't care how often you come here or how much money you spend or how many bottles you order or how you and the manager are BFFs. You still have to pay, thanks. And tip. It's only polite.
Anyway. Otherwise things are all right. I had an amazing Greek dinner last night at this teeny place in Hell's Kitchen. Tonight, I plan on going to bed early - I've not been getting a lot of sleep the past week and I really should catch up.
So, in April I'm thinking of planning a weekend getaway...maybe upstate. I want to get in the car and drive somewhere I've never been and stay in a cute little place and revitalize myself. Could be fun, right?
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
skin like a dying man's dream of skin.
I suck at blogging.
Anyway. I've been in New York for three and a half months now. This town is ridiculous. I mean, shit happens here that just does not happen anywhere else in the world.
I'm in between shows right now; my next one goes up in mid-March. So I've been taking some time off from the theater, trying to enjoy the city in my own way. I spend a lot of time riding the subway and exploring different neighborhoods and people-watching in Grand Central.
I've been going on dates with a bunch of different guys - maybe in an attempt to figure out what I want. My mom says this is perfectly normal, but given that I've never really dated in my life - I've either been single or in a relationship - dating is weird. And obnoxious, in some ways. Like, just because you bought me a nice dinner - and by "nice," I mean it cost approximately my rent - does not mean I'm going to sleep with you. Particularly if you're some self-important stockbroker schmuck tethered to his BlackBerry. Yikes.
I've been seeing this one guy I've started to really like, but he's already made it clear that our romantic relationship is unsustainable in the long term. And then I have at least two other guys who I'm not into but are harassing me nonstop. And then there are the all the guys who think it's okay to try and pick me up in a variety of places I prefer to be left alone in: the subway, Duane Reade, Whole Foods, the middle of Times Square, Starbucks, the liquor store, Pret a Manger, the lingerie section of H&M, Bryant Park. To name a few. I'm emotionally exhausted.
Also, I really want to be in a flash mob. Where do I sign up for those?
Anyway. I've been in New York for three and a half months now. This town is ridiculous. I mean, shit happens here that just does not happen anywhere else in the world.
I'm in between shows right now; my next one goes up in mid-March. So I've been taking some time off from the theater, trying to enjoy the city in my own way. I spend a lot of time riding the subway and exploring different neighborhoods and people-watching in Grand Central.
I've been going on dates with a bunch of different guys - maybe in an attempt to figure out what I want. My mom says this is perfectly normal, but given that I've never really dated in my life - I've either been single or in a relationship - dating is weird. And obnoxious, in some ways. Like, just because you bought me a nice dinner - and by "nice," I mean it cost approximately my rent - does not mean I'm going to sleep with you. Particularly if you're some self-important stockbroker schmuck tethered to his BlackBerry. Yikes.
I've been seeing this one guy I've started to really like, but he's already made it clear that our romantic relationship is unsustainable in the long term. And then I have at least two other guys who I'm not into but are harassing me nonstop. And then there are the all the guys who think it's okay to try and pick me up in a variety of places I prefer to be left alone in: the subway, Duane Reade, Whole Foods, the middle of Times Square, Starbucks, the liquor store, Pret a Manger, the lingerie section of H&M, Bryant Park. To name a few. I'm emotionally exhausted.
Also, I really want to be in a flash mob. Where do I sign up for those?
Monday, January 24, 2011
you are one of the bruised apples God threw out of Eden.
My most recent design job has led immediately to my next assignment, a night of one acts in the same theater. These shows are quite fun, and I'm glad I've got something to keep my mind occupied.
I'm in that weird place again. It's similar to where I was a few months ago, only several shades lighter. I'm much more in control but I'm making these overwhelming discoveries about myself, now that I've been thrown into a world that isn't dominated by school, or my parents, or the friends I've had for years.
No, I'm growing up now. The hardest part, oddly, is the social part. I mean, think about it - I've been in school my whole life. My friends were the people I had class with everyday, or the people I worked on shows with, or whatever. There was an element of consistency that made having friends natural and easy. Suddenly, now it's much harder, because my world is so inconsistent. I work in different theaters with different people all the time. I work in different clubs with different groups of people. I know a lot of people, and admit that my social calendar is pretty full, but I still feel very much alone.
The answer, unfortunately, does not lie with other people. No matter who I'm with, I feel alone. At the bar with friends, hanging out with my roommates, on a date, at work, having sex - I'm constantly struck with the feeling that I'm by myself.
Maybe it has something to do with living in the city. It's easy to feel swallowed up and utterly anonymous. Sometimes I feel suffocated by my own unimportance. I occasionally have that old nightmare of mine, where I'm standing in the middle of a crowd and I'm screaming, helplessly, but no one hears me.
I should feel happier, luckier, prouder than I feel right now. Aren't I living the life I always talked about having? But living the dream comes with a hefty price tag, it seems.
I'm in that weird place again. It's similar to where I was a few months ago, only several shades lighter. I'm much more in control but I'm making these overwhelming discoveries about myself, now that I've been thrown into a world that isn't dominated by school, or my parents, or the friends I've had for years.
No, I'm growing up now. The hardest part, oddly, is the social part. I mean, think about it - I've been in school my whole life. My friends were the people I had class with everyday, or the people I worked on shows with, or whatever. There was an element of consistency that made having friends natural and easy. Suddenly, now it's much harder, because my world is so inconsistent. I work in different theaters with different people all the time. I work in different clubs with different groups of people. I know a lot of people, and admit that my social calendar is pretty full, but I still feel very much alone.
The answer, unfortunately, does not lie with other people. No matter who I'm with, I feel alone. At the bar with friends, hanging out with my roommates, on a date, at work, having sex - I'm constantly struck with the feeling that I'm by myself.
Maybe it has something to do with living in the city. It's easy to feel swallowed up and utterly anonymous. Sometimes I feel suffocated by my own unimportance. I occasionally have that old nightmare of mine, where I'm standing in the middle of a crowd and I'm screaming, helplessly, but no one hears me.
I should feel happier, luckier, prouder than I feel right now. Aren't I living the life I always talked about having? But living the dream comes with a hefty price tag, it seems.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
and I don't know where to look, my words just break and melt.
Highlights from New Year's:
I tried napping earlier, but got nowhere with it. So I spent the day lounging around in my underwear, blasting the heat and watching Grey's Anatomy on Hulu Plus (which, by the way, is freaking awesome. Every episode of every show ever? For $8 a month? Eat that, Cablevision!). I'm still trying to get used to being alone in my apartment - so far, I'm unsuccessful. I felt like an antisocial loser so I went out grocery shopping earlier, where something prompted me to buy a half gallon of carrot juice. Amongst other really random items (including a toothbrush, several bags of freeze-dried pineapple, a York peppermint patty, and spray butter).
Tomorrow I'm going to check out a fabulous used bookstore I heard about near Union Square. I have one book in my whole apartment and that makes me feel like less of a human being. I miss my books.
- Penn Station fucking sucks.
- NJ Transit has ghetto trains. Or maybe I've been spoiled by the Metro North. Either way, eeeeeugh. I felt like I was on an old Greyhound bus. (To be fair, the train back to NYC was much nicer.)
- A homeless man on the train said I was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and proposed to me in front of everyone in the train car. I politely declined and he took it in stride. Maybe he had better luck in the next car.
- I saw Anne! Yay! And met a bunch of her friends. Yay! We played board games. Yay!
- Trip to Wal-Mart. Is it bad that I felt all nostalgic and warm and fuzzy when I walked in? Like I felt at home in a weird and sick way? That's not normal.
- Peach jello and spiced rum. OM NOM NOM.
- Delicious, delicious baked goods. And snacks. I ate, like, half a pan of brownies.
- Really, where were Kesha's clothes? Someone should make Jenny McCarthy stop talking, forever. And AJ from the Backstreet Boys has gotten really old and fat. He should talk to Jennifer Hudson about Weight Watchers, because I think they played the Weight Watchers commercial at every commercial break.
- Did anyone else feel like the dropping of the ball was really anticlimactic?
- I got like, two hours of sleep. I think I was still drunk when I woke up, which might be why I ate, like, four bowls of Cookie Crisp at breakfast. Seemed like an awesome idea. Actually, it was an awesome idea.
I tried napping earlier, but got nowhere with it. So I spent the day lounging around in my underwear, blasting the heat and watching Grey's Anatomy on Hulu Plus (which, by the way, is freaking awesome. Every episode of every show ever? For $8 a month? Eat that, Cablevision!). I'm still trying to get used to being alone in my apartment - so far, I'm unsuccessful. I felt like an antisocial loser so I went out grocery shopping earlier, where something prompted me to buy a half gallon of carrot juice. Amongst other really random items (including a toothbrush, several bags of freeze-dried pineapple, a York peppermint patty, and spray butter).
Tomorrow I'm going to check out a fabulous used bookstore I heard about near Union Square. I have one book in my whole apartment and that makes me feel like less of a human being. I miss my books.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Why so serious?
All my life, I've lived within a very specific set of circumstances: I've lived at home, with my parents. Or, I've lived in some college dorm-esque fashion, amongst large quantities of other people. Now, I live in an apartment. And even though I have roommates, I find myself having to deal with being, well...by myself. Being alone. I've thus come to a conclusion - I'm not very good at being alone. I get depressed, I get antsy. I never figured myself as someone who needed other people around, but I guess I am.
The other problem is, I don't have a group of friends up here the way I had a group of friends back home, and that makes me feel extraordinarily lonely. This, coupled with the pressure I feel to experience an exciting life in the city, leaves me feeling like some kind of social reject. Maybe I should start hanging out at bars, or something.
Life has been interesting, beyond my neuroses over being alone. The play went up, performed for small yet receptive audiences, and closed. It was a really intense experience, particularly during the load-in and build, and I encountered the problem of not having enough functioning lights to light the stage (which I solved, in a frantic two hours before our 10 out of 12). I had a good time and was sorry to see the whole thing end, even though I definitely needed a rest by the end of it.
I spent Christmas in Westchester, which was really lovely. I managed to get back to the city before we were completely besieged by the blizzard. And let me tell you: blizzards suck. I mean, the city looked very pretty at first, all white and pristine. But the trains and buses were all fucocked, everything was buried under feet of snow, and now that people have gotten moving again and some of the snow has melted, the roads and sidewalks are covered with a thick black slush that looks thoroughly disgusting. In a word: eugh.
**
I sometimes feel like, as far as my romantic relationships go, I keep experiencing the same conundrum over and over again. I wonder what I'm doing wrong, if anything. I don't know. I probably shouldn't be pursuing a relationship with anybody right now, since I feel like I'm still sorting a lot of things out for myself. But, at the same time, why does that process have to be mutually exclusive from the process of, say, dating? I mean, why should things be so serious?
The other problem is, I don't have a group of friends up here the way I had a group of friends back home, and that makes me feel extraordinarily lonely. This, coupled with the pressure I feel to experience an exciting life in the city, leaves me feeling like some kind of social reject. Maybe I should start hanging out at bars, or something.
Life has been interesting, beyond my neuroses over being alone. The play went up, performed for small yet receptive audiences, and closed. It was a really intense experience, particularly during the load-in and build, and I encountered the problem of not having enough functioning lights to light the stage (which I solved, in a frantic two hours before our 10 out of 12). I had a good time and was sorry to see the whole thing end, even though I definitely needed a rest by the end of it.
I spent Christmas in Westchester, which was really lovely. I managed to get back to the city before we were completely besieged by the blizzard. And let me tell you: blizzards suck. I mean, the city looked very pretty at first, all white and pristine. But the trains and buses were all fucocked, everything was buried under feet of snow, and now that people have gotten moving again and some of the snow has melted, the roads and sidewalks are covered with a thick black slush that looks thoroughly disgusting. In a word: eugh.
**
I sometimes feel like, as far as my romantic relationships go, I keep experiencing the same conundrum over and over again. I wonder what I'm doing wrong, if anything. I don't know. I probably shouldn't be pursuing a relationship with anybody right now, since I feel like I'm still sorting a lot of things out for myself. But, at the same time, why does that process have to be mutually exclusive from the process of, say, dating? I mean, why should things be so serious?
Thursday, December 9, 2010
There are FOUR LIGHTS!
So, a Facebook-related question. Why do the same 10 or 20 people always show up in the sidebar on the left of my profile page? I mean...I have 700 friends, and it's the same group of people every time I hit refresh. It's a little bizarre. Has anyone else noticed this phenomenon?
This song came on my iPod this morning when I was coming home from work. I was on the N train and literally laughed out loud, which startled all the other people on the train (who were asleep). I then felt compelled to dance down the street to it when I got out of the subway.
Yesterday was a good day. I went to a run-through of Things We Want, the show I'm designing. As an audience member, I really enjoyed it - there are a lot of brilliantly hilarious moments (I mean, it's Jonathan Marc Sherman, and there's a grown man wearing a Catholic schoolgirl skirt through a chunk of the second act). As a designer, I found the run-through to be extraordinarily helpful. Of course, I took a ton of notes, none of which I'll be able to implement since I think I have approximately seven lights to work with.
My mother has once again sent me a care package full of shit I don't want or need. I told her specifically to please only send things I ask for, because I simply don't have the space for extraneous stuff. She sent me all these clothes I left behind (because I didn't want them), and I threw them all in one of those yellow clothing bins down my block. And she sent this old bag of coffee that I remember buying at least a year ago, but never finished it because it was seriously vile coffee. The only useful things in the entire box (and it was a big box) were a cutting board, a dustbuster, and my Ulta eyeliner. My mother is either getting senile, or she's going out of her way to annoy me.
I should go back to bed. I got home around 5:30 this morning, and I have work again tonight at 8, and I slept maybe three hours.
This song came on my iPod this morning when I was coming home from work. I was on the N train and literally laughed out loud, which startled all the other people on the train (who were asleep). I then felt compelled to dance down the street to it when I got out of the subway.
Yesterday was a good day. I went to a run-through of Things We Want, the show I'm designing. As an audience member, I really enjoyed it - there are a lot of brilliantly hilarious moments (I mean, it's Jonathan Marc Sherman, and there's a grown man wearing a Catholic schoolgirl skirt through a chunk of the second act). As a designer, I found the run-through to be extraordinarily helpful. Of course, I took a ton of notes, none of which I'll be able to implement since I think I have approximately seven lights to work with.
My mother has once again sent me a care package full of shit I don't want or need. I told her specifically to please only send things I ask for, because I simply don't have the space for extraneous stuff. She sent me all these clothes I left behind (because I didn't want them), and I threw them all in one of those yellow clothing bins down my block. And she sent this old bag of coffee that I remember buying at least a year ago, but never finished it because it was seriously vile coffee. The only useful things in the entire box (and it was a big box) were a cutting board, a dustbuster, and my Ulta eyeliner. My mother is either getting senile, or she's going out of her way to annoy me.
I should go back to bed. I got home around 5:30 this morning, and I have work again tonight at 8, and I slept maybe three hours.
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