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? 

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.

a smattering of random thoughts

I went to the Trader Joe's in Brooklyn yesterday, which was clearly one of the best decisions I've made in awhile.  I got a huge bag of sweet potatoes for, like, three dollars.  Which I then had to schlep home on the subway.

Our third roommate moved in yesterday, and she and I went shopping today.  It's lovely to have a full house around here!

My mom sent my pink plastic Christmas tree, and I set it up in the living room.  It's more kitschy than festive, but it makes me giggle every time I see it.

If I hear the phrase "right relationship, wrong time" (or some permutation of it) one more time I'm going to fucking smack a bitch.  Seriously, it's frustrating now.  It's not even commitment that I necessarily want, but I miss having someone to share experiences with. 

I go into tech next week for my show.  I'm designing it on an 8-channel two-scene preset, which is even less technologically advanced than the two-scene preset I had over the summer.  It's not really a big deal, since I knew in advance that the space's capabilities were pretty limited and accounted for that when I started thinking about the design.

CSI: NY is currently my new favorite show.  If only because they talk about places and I can go, "Oh my god, I know where that is!"


Tomorrow: bank, hair salon...PINKBERRY.  And laundry, maybe.  I got a cute new skirt for work and I need to wash it so it doesn't smell like Brooklyn's Target.

seeing the forest for the trees.

I think, if I tried to see the forest, I would be thrown into a serious state of Overwhelmed.  In order to keep from going crazy, I have to look at each tree individually.  I have a lot of trees, currently.

The casting call last Sunday was interesting.  I drove to down into PA (which meant I spent two hours on the train and four hours in the car, both ways) to this hotel where Wilhelmina was hosting the call.  I stood in line, filled out some paperwork, got a number, walked down a long runway in front of 300 other gorgeous people (and a panel of talent scouts), and left.  It was pretty easy and I'll find out in a week or so if they're offering me a contract.  I doubt I'll get an offer but I'll probably turn it down if I do - there's a $2000 startup cost (to pay for my initial photoshoot and comp cards and website fees and shit) that I can't front.

Work isn't bad.  I'm getting better at hostessing and last week some of the other people there actually started to talk to me, and I didn't feel so weird and awkward like I did my first week.

Of course, I'm enjoying working as an electrician.  While I'm still getting the shaft in some ways because I'm the new kid (at focus call, I think I focused maybe six lights), I like the other people I work with and the work itself is comforting.  I think I'm working as a board op through Christmas and the New Year, which is fantastic.  December and January are notoriously slow months in the theater scene around here.

I went with some of the other kids from school to a backstage tour at the Gershwin on Saturday, and it was FUCKING INCREDIBLE.  I got to get up close and touch the costumes, and practically felt my heart flutter when I checked out the lighting rig.  So amazing.

Today I bought fresh produce at the market, and made sweet potatoes for dinner.  I have a lot of trees but I can manage them all, one day at a time.

What would happen if you said yes, instead of no?

I woke up yesterday totally sick.  Cecilie was sick with some kind of head cold last week and I think she gave it to me.  In any case, I was totally miserable and pounding Zicam like it was my job, because yesterday I had a business meeting in the city with the producer of the show I'm doing off-off-Broadway.  He wanted to show me the space and answer any of my questions before we shake hands on the deal.

Well, I arrive at the theater to find him waiting outside - apparently, there was a matinee performance going on and we couldn't go in and look around.  Annoying, but we couldn't do anything about that.  I was ready to tell him good-bye and walk back to Times Square, until he asked me out to lunch.  And, well, I hadn't eaten anything, and I really wanted to have a cup of tea...so I said sure, okay.  We went to this cute French/American place and I had a to-DIE-for omelet.  The conversation really started going, and then all of a sudden our business lunch became a full-day romp around New York City and Brooklyn.  It was so much fun!

While we were out, I got an email.  Yesterday morning I'd emailed the two major MEs in the city, and one of them emailed me back and offered me a load-in gig on Wednesday.  I'm so excited about it - I'm a bit of a work junkie like that. 

Anyway.  So.  I'm the kind of person who responds to intriguing ads on craigslist, like this one.  I kind of responded to it facetiously, because Wilhelmina is a huge and very well-renowned modeling agency.  I sent them all the necessary information, a headshot (my FB profile picture),  and a full-length shot (which I took with my iPhone, using my mirror).  I figured I'd never hear back from them, because the volume of responses they get is, assuredly, enormous.

Well, today, I received an email from one of their talent scouts, inviting me to their casting call this Sunday.  Which I'm TOTALLY GOING TO.  I mean, I doubt I'll get picked for representation, but what a cool and random opportunity.  It's in Pennsylvania, though, so I'd have to drive out there.  But hey, so far, I don't have any plans for Sunday.  Why not go to a casting call in Pennsylvania?

Kate does not get stood up.

So I did, in fact, get a lighting design gig through OKCupid.  I went out with the producer last night, on a date/business meeting at a really charming bar in Prospect Heights.  I, of course, got hopelessly lost trying to find it (Grand Army Plaza is confusing in the dark!) but I think being a city noob is an endearing quality.  I think.  I had a super fancy drink that took me close to three hours to consume (bourbon, Cointreau, bitters, champagne, and something else.  And a lime slice) and we had a really lovely time.  Tomorrow I'm going to the theater to check out the space.

I spent the day in Manhattan today.  I went to Times Square, and officially hate it.  There are four kinds of people in Times Square: confused tourists carrying maps, promoters wearing sandwich boards, those who need to stop every three feet for any number of dumb shit reasons (texting, taking pictures, corralling children, etc), and annoyed natives.  And pigeons, eugh.

If a guy tells me he likes my pants, is that just a new way of saying he likes my ass?

let me get your heart racing in my skin-tight jeans.

So, all those boxes I packed last week made it to the apartment today.  Six boxes in total, with the seventh still in transit.  Finally, I have the rest of my clothes!  And dry goods.  Seriously, I've been living off of almonds and bread the past few days.  I had all these cans of soup, but no can opener, so I'd gaze longingly at my favorite black bean soup while nibbling bread and feeling sad.  But now, I have a can opener, along with all kinds of other goodies. 

I slept late today, and then lounged around the apartment (I couldn't really go anywhere, since I knew my packages were arriving today and I had to sign for them.  Although what are you supposed to do if you're not there?).  It made for a really peculiar day.  Unpacking was fun though.

This apartment has an Aiphone and neither Cecilie nor myself have figured out how to use it.  We really ought to, since I think we can use it to buzz people into the building.  I'm also still trying to understand the intricacies of my combination washer/dryer. 

I think we have a third roommate, but unfortunately her room is currently filled with cardboard. 

Tomorrow I go check out this club I might start working at, and I'm super super nervous.  I'm worried that all the other people who work there will be super gorgeous and tall, and I'll be all short and awkward and I won't get any tips.  And I'll spill a tray of drinks, or something. 

And, my thoughts on last night's episode of Glee?  "OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIT!"

hustle with the quickness.

It's a really difficult transition, to go from running errands easily in two hours with a car to riding the subway and walking everywhere to do the same amount of errands in five hours.  And, I'm completely exhausted.  I got home just before five and wanted nothing more than to eat dinner and lie down, except it was wayyy to early for either.

I did put up my curtain rod (if you ever happen to need one and you get the cheapest one at Target, ignore the directions.  They're horrendous) and now I don't feel like the people across the street and the people one block over are watching me undress.  (Of course, up until this point I had been changing in the bathroom, which reminded me of that awkward stage of college when you weren't sure if your roommate was cool with you being naked in the room while she was in it.)

And now...now I don't really have anything to do till Thursday evening.  I kind of hate not having plans, or work, or something.  Although I feel like I should easily be able to find things to do, I almost don't know where to begin.

The woman sitting next to me on the uptown train this morning was tweezing her chin hair the whole way into Manhattan.  It grossed me out.  I was in such close proximity to her!  And then some douchebag on the J was doing a crossword puzzle and clicking his pen incessantly.  I was very, very close to going up to him, snatching his pen, and breaking it in half. 

I like people-watching, bagels, and the fact that I bought two bras for $4 from a store having a massive clearance event.  They're super cute bras, too - the kind you wish you could wear on the outside because they're that adorable. 

do not attempt to measure flame. burns may result.

The past three days have been a hectic, ridiculous blur of activity.  This will be a long entry.

On Saturday, my aunt and uncle drove me and all my shit to the apartment.  Moving in was surprisingly easy; my uncle found a parking spot close by and between him, me, and my roommate Cecilie, we got all my things up to the apartment quickly and easily.  I unpacked my kitchen things and bath things, unrolled my cot mattress and comforter, and fell asleep obscenely early.

Yesterday, I spent most of the day at Ikea.  I finally understand why Ikea is so damn inexpensive - because customer service is almost impossible to come by.  You really have to put on your best sad, lost Bambi eyes in order to get some help in there. 

So, I went into the showroom first, which was very attractively set up but somewhat difficult to navigate, thanks to the bazillion other people there trying to furnish their apartments.  I went into each area and looked at all the items I had already selected from their website.  Once I finished in the showroom, I went down to the self-service furniture area, which was populated by people blindly wandering the aisles with flatbeds, trying to figure out how to get their desired bookcase unit down from a shelf that's approximately two stories up in the air.

After muscling my two chests of drawers, desk, and chair onto a flatbed, I noticed something disturbing.  There was a decided lack of Ikea staff on the floor to help with the large, heavy items, and I had a shit ton of large, heavy items still to procure (including a double bed and a sofa).  After standing at the bin containing my bed (which was on a shelf at my head height) and frowning, unable to fathom a way to get the bed down myself, I abandoned my two flatbeds and tracked down the one guy working in that area.  I gave him my best helpless face, and he grabbed a guy from another department and the two of them helped me get the rest of my things, and then wheel my three flatbeds and one shopping cart up to checkout and delivery.  They were really sweet; I'm sure they had a bunch of other things to do and they didn't have to help me after we got in the checkout line.

 Now.  So, that was all a little overwhelming in and of itself - I've never dropped so much money in one afternoon, and there was just so.  much.  stuff.  A bed, a mattress, two five-drawer chests, a desk, a chair, a couch, a coffee table, a giant paper floor lamp, a nightstand, and lots of small things like water glasses and curtains.  My head was spinning with all of it.

I scheduled for home delivery and assembly for today, and the guys arrived with the stuff around noon.  Everything was going okay at first, until they started nitpicking the order.  For example, the order listed all the pieces I had paid to have assembled.  On that list was a "chest."  This, apparently, is not the same thing as a "five-drawer chest."  A "chest" just has one drawer.  After several minutes of extracting this information from one of the functionally illiterate assembly guys, I was ready to spit nails.

"So you're saying," I said with growing irritation, "you won't build it because it doesn't list that it has five drawers?"
"Yes," said one of the guys.  The other, whose spoken English was much better, added, "We can only build one drawer."
"You're fucking joking.  That's retarded," I exclaimed.  "You're going to build the fucking thing or I want my goddamn money back."

They exchanged a few words and started putting the chest together.  Now, if you remember, I had two chests, but the order only listed one, and they told me they could only build one.  I told them this was fine (Cecilie very kindly offered to help put it together). Somewhere around this time, the Cablevision guy arrived to set up our internet, and the place got hectic.  I then noticed that, very quickly, the guys had assembled both chests of drawers.  They were finished assembling everything, and were now demanding more money to pay for the labor for making that second chest.

"Are you kidding?  I told you guys not to build it!" I said.
In garbled, shifty English, one of them essentially told me, "Well, I built it, so now you have to pay me."
The other guy piped up.  "You have to pay him.  Give him something!"

I was fuming.  I refused to pay, both because they did what I told them not to, but also because I gave the last of my cash to the realtor today to pay for the processing fee for my paperwork.  But they both stood there stonily, not going anywhere.  I asked if they could send a bill, and they gave me some bullshit excuse about how the guy who built the chest didn't actually work for the company and so they couldn't send a bill, and couldn't I just pay him now?  I was thoroughly annoyed - both with them and with myself, for not monitoring them more closely.  But, I had a plan.  I went and got my checkbook, which immediately made both guys' faces fall.

"No cash?" one of them asked.
"No.  Just checks," I replied.  "That's all I've got."

They exchanged a few words, and said they'd take the check.  I gave it to them and told them to leave.  As soon as I shut the door, the first thing I did was call customer service at Ikea, and I filed a formal complaint with the delivery and assembly company.  Then, I called my mother and told her to put a hold on the check.  I'm still furious.  What a load of shit.

But, the upside?  I have a beautiful room and a beautiful living room, and Internet!  Tomorrow I'm going to Target to get a bed skirt and some nails so I can put up my curtain rod.

Not all my adventures today were bad.  I walked up and down my block in the sleet, because I'm curious about the neighborhood and feel like I should try and get used to the cold weather.  Let me tell you, there's all kinds of fun things near me!  I stopped in an ethnic beauty shop and a green grocer and enjoyed the atmosphere and culture.  I'm a little intimidated by everything - I feel like I stick out like a sore thumb, like some white country bumpkin.

I met a guy in the elevator.  He got on at the second floor with his bike, and I discovered that he, too, had just moved in.  He was very chatty and friendly, and said I should stop by his apartment and hang out with him and his roommate sometime.  He seemed nice.  I want to make friends with the people who live in my building!  It'll be like college again.  But without, you know.  Grades.

I'm tired.  If you read through this whole entry, I commend you and will bake you a cake.

I named him Henry.

Back at the end of September, I woke up one morning and imagined that it was the day I was leaving for New York.  I was gripped by such a panic that I had to take a Xanax.  For a moment, I couldn't actually believe that I would welcome the day it came time to leave.

But, here I am, in Winchester once again (oddly enough, in the same hotel room I was in when I came back from Stockbridge), with a car packed full of random shit that can't be shipped.  And I feel okay.  I'm nervous.  My mother cried this morning before I left, which of course made me cry.

I'm nervous, but I'm not freaking out.  To me, this is like going off to college, or Williamstown, or BTF.  Another adventure, and it would be odd if I wasn't nervous before the start of an adventure.

So, I'm going to relax in my hotel room and watch some Hell's Kitchen.