Arrrrgh! No, that’s not the sound of 5 year old children pretending to be pirates in a zealous game of “Magic Rocks” in my acting class. That’s the sound of me, once again frustrated with – well, I guess being 24 years old in New York City in this career track I’ve chosen called life.
I woke up on Wednesday January 20th and said “Oh no! It’s 10am! I need to get out of bed!” And Bed said, “No! Stay with me! Why are you rushing – you have nowhere to be.” “Yes I do!,” I defensively retorted, “I have things to do, places to be!” But Bed said, “You teach at 3:30. Stay in bed.” I was a little bit tempted. He was so warm and cuddly lying underneath me. I could stay here – I really don’t have anything to do, and isn’t my peace and happiness the only thing that really matters anyway? But then the drive in me forced me to say, “No! I am an important person and I have important things to do.” To which Bed very snarkily remarked, “You don’t work.” Exhausted with being determined, I caved in this round, “You’re right. I don’t work – that much. And I’m sick of not working. I’m sick of looking for work. I know what I want, and it’s time to get it.” And with one swoop motion, I jumped out of Bed, kissed him good-bye, and danced out of the room, ready to conquer the world.
I’d been afraid to go for it for awhile, afraid it meant giving up on acting, afraid it meant “settling,” afraid it meant “being ordinary.” These fears of mine suddenly washed away, when I realized what I’d actually been afraid of was admitting that I’ve always known this is part of who I am and what I was called to do. When I was 4 years old, I didn’t want to be a dancer – I wanted to be a dance teacher. Every summer I was a theatre camp counselor and wanted to grow up to take over the summer camp. Here in New York, I’ve lately been so focused on teaching artist jobs and so inspired when I talk to other teachers. So my decision is made: it’s time to get my degree in teaching. Now that I’ve admitted this to myself, allowed myself to say it, it’s like the floodgates have opened and clarity and confidence about my future are pouring out.
Although today, I’m arrrrghing like a pirate once again. Because in all this pumping myself up, I had a job interview at a certain late night talk show I used to be a page for, and didn’t get the job, which made me feel, once again, worthless and undetermined and like getting a job is impossible. And my old boss asked me, “Where do you see yourself in 5 years?” And I threw a fit and yelled “This question is irrelevant in this economy and for 20-somethings – can’t I just see myself as happy doing whatever it is I’m doing? Does it matter WHAT I do, as long as I’m happy? If I answer, I want to be a TV producer, will you see me as driven and give me this job? If I say I want to be an actress, will you see me as following the wrong path and not give me the job? Can’t I just say the truth, which is, in 5 years I just want to be employed doing something enjoyable. But please, I’m begging you, give me a job because I’m bored without one.” To which she would have responded, “Get out of my office” if I had in fact ranted like that. But instead I said, “I want to someday open up my own children’s theatre.” And then I walked out of there thinking, once again, why do I always say that in every interview? And, argh, what am I doing?!
Does anybody know what they are doing? No. In panic mode, I called Mom.
“I just feel like I used to be so driven and hard-working, and lately I’m lacking purpose and stability. Why am I having such a hard time getting a job? I thought I knew what I wanted – but now I just want to be happy.”
“You do have purpose. Every afternoon those kids and parents are counting on you to show up and teach them. Yea, maybe they’re just running around like sharks and monsters, but you are important to them. And it’s not hard to get a job – you’re just limiting your options to something specific in a specific city.”
Mom saves the day once again. From panic attack, to feeling empowered.
Maybe there is no such thing as knowing exactly what you want. Maybe it’s enough to just know that you want to be happy. What is happy anyway?
Happy is seeing the sun sparkle on fresh fallen snow and thinking “that’s pretty.”
Happy is going to improv class and laughing with your friends.
Happy is going home to see your family and eating birthday cake.
Happy is trying a new recipe and not burning it.
Happy is when the most annoying kid in class gives you a hug afterward and says, “I love you Josie,” and you laugh because even though your name’s not Josie, the other part of what he said was true.
Arrggh. Really? That simple?
So…off I go. Setting sail to the high seas of the post-graduation existential crisis ocean. We might find us some treasure, or discover new land, or encounter another pirate ship, or maybe we’ll just get seasick. But when the waves get rocky, looking out at that sunrise on the horizon should be enough to keep us going. A brand new day is straight ahead. And whatever we choose to do with it, will be enough.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Friday, April 16, 2010
Yet Another Encounter with Dumb People
That is the last time I go to Dunkin' Donuts. Ever. I know, I said that the last time. But this time is officially the last time.
What is so hard about regular coffee with cream a sugar? Isn't that the standard way to take the beverage? Every time I go there, it ends horribly. Here's how my first Disastrous Dunkin' Donuts trip went that then initiated a wave of disastrous trips:
Me: Hi, I'd like a medium iced coffee with cream and sugar please. Just a little bit of ice, though. (I really want French Vanilla, but can they handle that? They'll probably screw up the ice if I ask for French Vanilla.)
DD Employee: Plain?
Me: (Ooo, maybe this one's competent.) French Vanilla, please.
DD Employee: Ok, you want it iced or hot?
Me: (Didn't I say this already?) Iced, please.
DD Employee: Ok....(goes to get iced beverage cup).....(a minute goes by)....
Me: (Do I remind her just a little ice? I'm nervous.)
DD Employee: You want what size?
Me: Medium! (The one you're holding, dummy. I can't say "please" anymore.)
DD Dummy: Ok. (puts ice and coffee in...finally) You want skim milk, right?
Me: No!!!! (You idiot!) Cream! I want cream. And sugar. (Just because I'm thin she assumes I want skim milk?!)
Stupid: Ok. Sugar and skim milk.
Me: Cream! Not skim milk! (Why is this so difficult?! This is not a fancy Starbucks where people order their Grande Non-fat Iced Cinnamon Mocha Latte with Soy, No-Whip. I ordered a Medium Iced Coffee with Cream and Sugar. That's three words short of a fancy Starbucks order! And they still can't get it right?!)
Dumbo: How many sugars you want?
Me: (Oh my gosh - how did you get hired? - the regular?!) 2?
(...another what feels like 5 minutes go by...)
Einstein: Here you go. (handing over a plain, full-of-ice iced coffee with what looks like a dash of skim milk.)
The people who work at Dunkin' Donuts are dumb. They can barely speak English. I'm always charged something different for the same drink. And I'm always there 10 minutes more than I need to be. And the worst part of it all is --- I don't even drink coffee anymore!
Due to complications of the digestive track (Tmi? Oh, it's coffee. You've got problems, too.), I can no longer drink coffee on a regular basis. And regular for me was three cups a day: two in the morning, one when I'm feeling sluggish around 3:00 in the afternoon. Now, I just drink a cup of tea in the morning and am learning how to curb my afternoon caffeine craving with a glass of ice water, some quick energizing exercises moves, or just reminding myself of the pain inflicted when I take a sip of coffee. You'd think it would be easy to steer clear of Dunkin' Donuts these days.
But no. There is something so special about walking down the street holding your cup of coffee. On a cool day, that cup of coffee in a Styrofoam cup in your hand makes you feel warm. Happy. Important. It's idyllic to pop into a coffee shop and grab a quick coffee and walk down the street with it. Something I couldn't do in the Land of Cars that is suburbia. And so, every now and then, despite my condition, I like to indulge in a piping hot beverage in a Styrofoam cup.
Today I'm babysitting. And the weather and my stomach agree that today would be a nice day for such a treat. And lo and behold, the giant plastic D's are glistening in the sun, beckoning me to spend 3 bucks on a Chai Tea. Baby and I stroll into the store to find only 3 people in line before us. In the 15 minutes that I'mwaiting to get to the counter, the 5 employees mess up 2 people's orders, burn a bagel, and charge the same guy twice. I want to shout, "There are more of you than there are of us! Get your act together! You people are incompetent!" But then I remember the wise words of my sister: "It's not worth it to argue or reason with dumb people. They're dumb." Finally, it's my turn to order. I brace myself as I approach the counter. It's a simple order. "Medium Chai Tea please."
.......Three minutes later.......Doesn't he just have to push the "Chai Tea" button?... Seriously! It takes him three minutes to get my stinkin' Chai Tea?! I'm angry. I reluctantly hand over my precious 3 bucks. The stroller is stuck on a cracked floor tile and now the wheels flipped in the wrong direction. Get me out of here! I nearly spill my drink on the ground as I try to maneuver the stroller out of the narrow doorway. Unbelievable. I'm never going there again. Every single Dunkin' Donuts is the same. With the same dumb employees. Who forget that they're working at a fast food place. Apparently, they're also forgetting they're at work doing work and you need to do good at your work. From this moment on I refuse to set foot in another Dunkin' Donuts ever again. I refuse to spend money on an institution that hires dumb people. Quote me on this. I dare you to. I will never ever go to Dunkin' Donuts again.
Oh, it's been awhile. I bet my Chai Tea has cooled down by now along with my temper. This better have been worth it. They better not have screwed up my...Oooooo...Mmmmm...Yum. This is good. I had forgotten how good Chai Tea was. The vanilla, the spices, the frothy foam. And I look so cool holding my Styrofoam cup. Ok...maybe it's not so bad. Maybe I'll go back someday...maybe...just once more.
What is so hard about regular coffee with cream a sugar? Isn't that the standard way to take the beverage? Every time I go there, it ends horribly. Here's how my first Disastrous Dunkin' Donuts trip went that then initiated a wave of disastrous trips:
Me: Hi, I'd like a medium iced coffee with cream and sugar please. Just a little bit of ice, though. (I really want French Vanilla, but can they handle that? They'll probably screw up the ice if I ask for French Vanilla.)
DD Employee: Plain?
Me: (Ooo, maybe this one's competent.) French Vanilla, please.
DD Employee: Ok, you want it iced or hot?
Me: (Didn't I say this already?) Iced, please.
DD Employee: Ok....(goes to get iced beverage cup).....(a minute goes by)....
Me: (Do I remind her just a little ice? I'm nervous.)
DD Employee: You want what size?
Me: Medium! (The one you're holding, dummy. I can't say "please" anymore.)
DD Dummy: Ok. (puts ice and coffee in...finally) You want skim milk, right?
Me: No!!!! (You idiot!) Cream! I want cream. And sugar. (Just because I'm thin she assumes I want skim milk?!)
Stupid: Ok. Sugar and skim milk.
Me: Cream! Not skim milk! (Why is this so difficult?! This is not a fancy Starbucks where people order their Grande Non-fat Iced Cinnamon Mocha Latte with Soy, No-Whip. I ordered a Medium Iced Coffee with Cream and Sugar. That's three words short of a fancy Starbucks order! And they still can't get it right?!)
Dumbo: How many sugars you want?
Me: (Oh my gosh - how did you get hired? - the regular?!) 2?
(...another what feels like 5 minutes go by...)
Einstein: Here you go. (handing over a plain, full-of-ice iced coffee with what looks like a dash of skim milk.)
The people who work at Dunkin' Donuts are dumb. They can barely speak English. I'm always charged something different for the same drink. And I'm always there 10 minutes more than I need to be. And the worst part of it all is --- I don't even drink coffee anymore!
Due to complications of the digestive track (Tmi? Oh, it's coffee. You've got problems, too.), I can no longer drink coffee on a regular basis. And regular for me was three cups a day: two in the morning, one when I'm feeling sluggish around 3:00 in the afternoon. Now, I just drink a cup of tea in the morning and am learning how to curb my afternoon caffeine craving with a glass of ice water, some quick energizing exercises moves, or just reminding myself of the pain inflicted when I take a sip of coffee. You'd think it would be easy to steer clear of Dunkin' Donuts these days.
But no. There is something so special about walking down the street holding your cup of coffee. On a cool day, that cup of coffee in a Styrofoam cup in your hand makes you feel warm. Happy. Important. It's idyllic to pop into a coffee shop and grab a quick coffee and walk down the street with it. Something I couldn't do in the Land of Cars that is suburbia. And so, every now and then, despite my condition, I like to indulge in a piping hot beverage in a Styrofoam cup.
Today I'm babysitting. And the weather and my stomach agree that today would be a nice day for such a treat. And lo and behold, the giant plastic D's are glistening in the sun, beckoning me to spend 3 bucks on a Chai Tea. Baby and I stroll into the store to find only 3 people in line before us. In the 15 minutes that I'mwaiting to get to the counter, the 5 employees mess up 2 people's orders, burn a bagel, and charge the same guy twice. I want to shout, "There are more of you than there are of us! Get your act together! You people are incompetent!" But then I remember the wise words of my sister: "It's not worth it to argue or reason with dumb people. They're dumb." Finally, it's my turn to order. I brace myself as I approach the counter. It's a simple order. "Medium Chai Tea please."
.......Three minutes later.......Doesn't he just have to push the "Chai Tea" button?... Seriously! It takes him three minutes to get my stinkin' Chai Tea?! I'm angry. I reluctantly hand over my precious 3 bucks. The stroller is stuck on a cracked floor tile and now the wheels flipped in the wrong direction. Get me out of here! I nearly spill my drink on the ground as I try to maneuver the stroller out of the narrow doorway. Unbelievable. I'm never going there again. Every single Dunkin' Donuts is the same. With the same dumb employees. Who forget that they're working at a fast food place. Apparently, they're also forgetting they're at work doing work and you need to do good at your work. From this moment on I refuse to set foot in another Dunkin' Donuts ever again. I refuse to spend money on an institution that hires dumb people. Quote me on this. I dare you to. I will never ever go to Dunkin' Donuts again.
Oh, it's been awhile. I bet my Chai Tea has cooled down by now along with my temper. This better have been worth it. They better not have screwed up my...Oooooo...Mmmmm...Yum. This is good. I had forgotten how good Chai Tea was. The vanilla, the spices, the frothy foam. And I look so cool holding my Styrofoam cup. Ok...maybe it's not so bad. Maybe I'll go back someday...maybe...just once more.
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Someone Has to Be the Rabbit on Easter
I didn’t get to go home for Easter today. We had two performances of “The Velveteen Rabbit,” at Manhattan Children's Theatre and people actually bought tickets to see a show on Easter Sunday, so I couldn’t go home to Massachusetts. It wasn’t even like they were all non-Christian. I think these people were celebrating the holiday by taking their kids to the theatre. But rest assured, my Dad has been sending me text updates all day on the Easter at Home. The first was while I was still sleeping.
8:45am: Egg Hunt 2010: Lindsey: 32, Michael: 30.
And then,
8:49am: Make that Lindsey: 34, Michael: 33. Forgot the foyer.
Then several picture texts of everyone at the party. Oh, and the empty parking lot at church, to prove that he was one of the first to arrive at mass. Good job, Dad.
Of all the important holidays, I’ve only missed one Thanksgiving because I had to work at Letterman. That was sad, but I spent the night with other friends stuck in town and we actually cooked a really good turkey dinner and made three different pies, which we sampled in three different sittings and got full three different times. Gramma’s Old-Fashioned Apple Pie, Awesome Chocolate Cream Pie, and Casey’s Attempt at Pumpkin Pie. I guess that Thanksgiving was memorable in itself if I still remember the names of what pies we ate.
Anyway, this was my first Easter not to go home. I’m a little sad, but anticipating my loneliness, I conveniently scheduled a random 3-day vacation last week to visit the fam. I got my Pfau Pfix and was able to brave my Easter Sunday with a smile on my face. Very necessary, considering I had to be the velveteen rabbit and make all the kids smile today. The show must go on, right?! They all came in wearing their Easter outfits and carrying their new baskets. It was cute. But it still didn't quite feel like Easter. (Although you'd think the parallel between the Easter "Bunny" and my character of the Velveteen "Rabbit" would be enough...) After the shows, all I wanted to do was head back to my apartment and go for a run in my park. Well, Astoria Park. But I call it my park. Even though, the reason I wanted to run more than anything was because I knew at the park I would see families and friends barbecuing, playing soccer, laughing, talking, being together. Some of them don't have yards of their own, so they take their tables and chairs and food to the park. Seeing these strangers celebrate made me feel good. Even though I wasn’t sitting celebrating with them, I still felt like I was part of something. And it was such a nice day out. And I’m just convinced nothing can go wrong when it’s a nice day out.
While running I realized I am lucky in the regard that what kept me from visiting home today was doing what I love. I was performing a show that is very near and dear to my heart. A show about love and family and the sacrifices we have to make if we’re going to love and be loved. How fitting for today.
I guess I am getting older, and part of living on your own means not being able to celebrate every holiday with your family. And that’s ok. I’m in the stage in my life where it’s ok to do things on my own, be by myself, and embrace independence. Someday I’ll have a husband and kids of my own and wish I had this solitude and silence.
Nahhhh! I’d never wish for this again! Part of growing up, part of life, is accepting where you are in the moment. So today, I am alone on Easter. And that’s ok. But another part of life is striving and hoping for your dreams. So today, I’m also comforted by the faith that I will not always be alone on Easter.
Ooo, text from Dad.
7:21pm: Mom just found another egg!
You know, with all these new fangled text messaging things - I'm not really alone at all. :)
8:45am: Egg Hunt 2010: Lindsey: 32, Michael: 30.
And then,
8:49am: Make that Lindsey: 34, Michael: 33. Forgot the foyer.
Then several picture texts of everyone at the party. Oh, and the empty parking lot at church, to prove that he was one of the first to arrive at mass. Good job, Dad.
Of all the important holidays, I’ve only missed one Thanksgiving because I had to work at Letterman. That was sad, but I spent the night with other friends stuck in town and we actually cooked a really good turkey dinner and made three different pies, which we sampled in three different sittings and got full three different times. Gramma’s Old-Fashioned Apple Pie, Awesome Chocolate Cream Pie, and Casey’s Attempt at Pumpkin Pie. I guess that Thanksgiving was memorable in itself if I still remember the names of what pies we ate.
Anyway, this was my first Easter not to go home. I’m a little sad, but anticipating my loneliness, I conveniently scheduled a random 3-day vacation last week to visit the fam. I got my Pfau Pfix and was able to brave my Easter Sunday with a smile on my face. Very necessary, considering I had to be the velveteen rabbit and make all the kids smile today. The show must go on, right?! They all came in wearing their Easter outfits and carrying their new baskets. It was cute. But it still didn't quite feel like Easter. (Although you'd think the parallel between the Easter "Bunny" and my character of the Velveteen "Rabbit" would be enough...) After the shows, all I wanted to do was head back to my apartment and go for a run in my park. Well, Astoria Park. But I call it my park. Even though, the reason I wanted to run more than anything was because I knew at the park I would see families and friends barbecuing, playing soccer, laughing, talking, being together. Some of them don't have yards of their own, so they take their tables and chairs and food to the park. Seeing these strangers celebrate made me feel good. Even though I wasn’t sitting celebrating with them, I still felt like I was part of something. And it was such a nice day out. And I’m just convinced nothing can go wrong when it’s a nice day out.
While running I realized I am lucky in the regard that what kept me from visiting home today was doing what I love. I was performing a show that is very near and dear to my heart. A show about love and family and the sacrifices we have to make if we’re going to love and be loved. How fitting for today.
I guess I am getting older, and part of living on your own means not being able to celebrate every holiday with your family. And that’s ok. I’m in the stage in my life where it’s ok to do things on my own, be by myself, and embrace independence. Someday I’ll have a husband and kids of my own and wish I had this solitude and silence.
Nahhhh! I’d never wish for this again! Part of growing up, part of life, is accepting where you are in the moment. So today, I am alone on Easter. And that’s ok. But another part of life is striving and hoping for your dreams. So today, I’m also comforted by the faith that I will not always be alone on Easter.
Ooo, text from Dad.
7:21pm: Mom just found another egg!
You know, with all these new fangled text messaging things - I'm not really alone at all. :)
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