In three days in New York I have...

...applied for about 30 restaurant jobs.

...received one tentative offer.

...contacted about 15 people on Craigslist about apartments.

...received two responses to the above.

...seen two of my New York friends.

...spent about half of my time riding the subway.

...started some tasty blisters on my feet.

...seen the diner "Tom's Restaurant" that served as the outside of the Seinfeld restaurant.  (It's right up the street.)

...auditioned for one show.  Cat On A Hot Tin Roof directed by Ms. Debbie Allen.  I did fine.  Debbie Allen wasn't there.  I expect the best and am prepared for the worst (which would be not hearing anything, which is normal and not all that bad).

...told myself I'd nap for 30 minutes in the afternoon and ended up sleeping for two hours.

...missed a job fair because of said nap.

..felt, several times, that this is the right place to be right now.

My folks gave me an iPod Shuffle. They rock.

In 36 hours I leave for New York City. Hopefully the move is permanent, and barring catastrophe, it will be.

Of course, when I say "permanent," I mean at least two years. I'm not the youngin' I once was, so I'm not sure how long I'll be able to stand the pace of NYC life. Nonetheless, I want to give living there a real shot. Who knows: I may fall in love with the city and die in my tiny apartment with cats crawling all over and nibbling on my dead body.

So...how do I feel? People have been asking me that a lot lately. That and "You must be so excited!!!" I am excited, but I really don't know how I feel. It doesn't seem real that I'll be living so far from my folks, that I won't be able to see my beautiful friends whenever our schedules collide. It doesn't seem real that when I come back to visit, the Twin Cities will have moved on without me and there will be buildings and bridges that I don't recognize. It doesn't seem real that I have to look for a job yet again (and that's not a good sign: finding a job is priority number one).

I can't wrap my head around the permanence of this move. Which might mean that I'm living in the moment - which is good - and at the moment I'm in Minnesota. It might mean that I have no sense of the massive amount of hard work that lies in front of me. I really don't know anything.

That's what scares me. That I really don't know anything. I'm excited, and somewhere deep inside, in a place that I'm not letting show to the world at large, I'm terrified. Sure it's exciting to jump without a net. You certainly hope that the net will appear or that the ground is made of marshmallows. Nonetheless there's still a chance that you'll land on rock hard ground like Wile E. Coyote and flatten out like a pancake. Who really knows what's down there?

In spite of my fear, I'm still going. And for that I give myself a little pat on the back. Adventures build character, right? Right?

The clothes make the woman?

There's a Banana Republic in the IDS building in downtown Minneapolis. I've often strolled inside and looked around when I'm on my lunch break. I would say that 9 out of the 10 times I've been in there, no one has spoken to me. I was dressed for work, which means no jeans or corduroy or sneakers, or t-shirts; you know, I was in work wear. The employees don't say, "hi," they don't smile, they don't even look at me.

Today, while on break from pretending that I work at Faegre & Benson (really I'm pretending to be a witness and helping train lawyers for depositions but getting free breakfast and lunch - totally awesome), wearing a dress shirt, wrap sweater, and black skirt, I not only was approached and asked for help, but an employee who had previous looked through me - and he's one of the only men working there so I remember him - actually started a conversation with me and introduced himself.

Now, I can't say whether the way I was dressed today versus other days had anything to do with their sudden friendliness,. I can't say whether it was because I looked like I could afford to shop there. I can't say it's because I was carrying a Faegre & Benson waterbottle. But I walked out of that store thinking, "Now ain't that some ish. Ignore me every other day but today I look like a lawyer so you pay attention? Dang." I can't assume anything, lest I make an ass out of myself. However, I can make some educated guesses.

Good Auditions

Good Auditions make you feel special.
Good Auditions make you feel like the best actor in the world.
Good Auditions make you feel like the best person in the world.
Good Auditions make you want to skip and dance while pumping gas at the Holiday.
Good Auditions give you hope.
Good Auditions give you energy.
Good Auditions inspire you.
Good Auditions remind you why you do this stupid career in the first place.
Good Auditions enable you to keep going.
Good Auditions remind you how talented Minneapolis is.
Good Auditions validate you (sadly).
Good Auditions make you feel sexy.
Good Auditions make you feel smart.
Good Auditions make you love everyone you see.
Good Auditions brighten the world.
Good Auditions are like really good drugs.
Good Auditions make the surliness of the Dunn Bros employees seem trivial.
Good Auditions help you get back to your novel, even if you only write 200 words.
Good Auditions are...good.

Who cares if I got the job if I had a good audition?! I do.

I hate making choices.

I want to go to Japan with the JET Program. I really would like to go next fall and this seems like a supportive program with a great history.

Unfortunately, I'm feeling overwhelmed with every other responsibility I have this month. I might have to just put this down and pick it up again next year. I don't want to give up, but there does come a time when one has to assess the situation and decide what's important. Getting my belongings cleaned out and organized and my promotional materials - headshots, business cards, mailings, etc - together is more important. And I would actually like to finish NaNoWriMo again this year, and I'm already way behind, so that, oddly enough, is more important.

I think I have to let Japan go for now. It feels like I'm sitting in a raft in the middle of the ocean with too many other rafts filled with loved babies lashed to mine, and I have to cut one of those rafts loose. Will I ever see it again? I don't know. I hope so. I feel like I'm giving up, and I don't like to be a quitter. But it would make my life easier and my To Do list shorter if I cut it loose for now. On the bright side it would give me more time to perfect my Japanese and up my chances of being selected as a CIR - Coordinator with International Relations - a position that works with the local government.

I think I made my decision.

Watch the whole video.

I support the Writers Guild strike. What happens to them could have an impact on my future in the coming year, and I'd like the outcome to be favorable.

Watch this video and see why the writers are striking and what they want as a result.

I worry sometimes that my grey (I will NOT spell it with an 'a', I don't care that I'm not English nor am I in England, "gray" is so unromantic) hair ages me as an actor. Sometimes I'm ok with the notion that it might, other times I fret (see: a few entries back).

On Halloween, I somehow got on that topic with a new friend (that I hope to see again). I told her that I worry about it as an actor, but she said that she loved it. Other people have told me before that they think it's beautiful, striking, unique, etc, but something about the way she said it stuck with me. She described the greys as twining around the darker hair and how awesome that was, and how she would dye her hair just to try to get it to look like that. I mentioned that I always remember women in film and television who have a grey streak in their hair, and she agreed that it was what made them stand out, so it was cool. I accepted the compliment, but it didn't hit me until a day later that I should be working my greys for all they're worth, and that a particular hairstyle could aid my ownership of my hair.

I love epiphanies like that. I love when something that has been a nuisance becomes a pleasurable tool. So, thanks, Laurel. I appreciate it.

Webcomic Love

Rob and Elliot has gotten more random and, subsequently, more funny, since I started reading it several years ago. Love.

A Break

Banana Chips
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I finally got to travel with Pillsbury House Theater's Breaking Ice troupe. We went to Denver for a diversity conference with the City and County of Denver employees. The journey from rehearsal to show was rocky. We had the show down fairly well, and were then thrown for a loop when we had to work with half-functioning lapel mics, and two of our cast members had to trade off a hand held mic. (They showed great flexibility in taking that on as Breaking Ice is movement oriented, and suddenly having to have one hand tied to a microphone can be a daunting task.)

After the performance, two cast members had another training session to attend and the rest of us were turned loose on the city. Everyone else went to Chick-fil-A, I went to the park and wrote. *smug artist smile*

Those banana chips were tasty.