How to Move to New York to Be An Actor and Bomb Spectacularly

Peace
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

How to Move to New York to Be An Actor and Bomb Spectacularly

-Decide to move on a whim, with very little advance planning other than, "I'm moving to New York next month" and buying a plane ticket.

-Don't write down your career goals or how you'd like to accomplish them.

-Definitely don't make a reel of your work *before* you go, when you're not stressed out with trying to survive.

-Move to a theatre town when you've booked more on camera work than theatre.

-Change apartments. A lot. Like, once a month to once every six months.

-Get a job that kills your creativity and takes advantage of your Midwestern work ethic and sense of duty.

-Spend every evening in your apartment, not networking or finding out who you want to work with and getting to know them.

-Make ambitious plans to do mailings to CDs and agents in town. Only mail ten packets out of a list of 100.

-For that matter, neglect researching which casting directors work on projects that are within your type as an actor and just randomly mail headshots and reels to whoever has an address in the Ross Reports.

-Spend money you don't have on things that don't matter.

-Justify your junk food intake as an antidote to your stress level.

-Never exercise. Even when you get free yoga classes at one of the best studios in town for just four to five hours of work a week.

-Don't follow up on connections that will help you get a foothold in the local market.

-Do background work, thinking it will add some oomph to your resume, rather than just supplying income.

-Get an apartment in an expensive part of town, then use that as an excuse to dedicate yourself to your day job and not your creative work because, "I have to pay rent!"

-Refuse to pay to see theatre.

-Refuse to pay to go to the movies.

-Refuse to pay for acting classes because "You've done that already."

-Refuse to pay for new headshots.

-Make half-baked, nebulous plans to take a class, go to a casting director seminar, "work on your craft," "audition more," etc.

-Allow your daily stressors to overwhelm your goals, and justify that lapse as, "I'm just so *tired*!"

-Read The Actor's Voice religiously. Apply none of the advice to your life.

-Tell people, "I'm taking a break," when you're really just too lazy to be bothered to look up auditions, attend theatre, put together mailings, or put yourself out there.

-Most importantly of all, give up gradually, not making a firm decision to leave the biz behind, not because you don't want to do it anymore, but because it's "too hard."

*****

It was two years to the day (yesterday, Nov. 27) that I arrived here in New York, hopeful, daring, crazy. I think this is a fitting post for that anniversary.

New York has been good for me. I can't say it's always been good to me, but I've learned a lot. I'm much more tolerant of apartment living, having less personal space, and "Things That Annoy Me" in general. I've realized what I can tolerate and what I can't. I can say, "I HATE this place" in one hour, and the next I'll say, "I LOVE this place." I've made this place my home.

Nevertheless, dear reader, if you want to be an actor, you have to do the work. I didn't. I'm not angry with myself about that. I've made a firm decision to step away from the biz. I enjoy it, but I don't want it to run my life anymore. I don't want "actor" to be my job title right now. I can always return, though. The world of entertainment will always be there, and there's no age restriction.

I'm off to Korea to be a teacher for a while. You can read about the whole "moving to Korea" process at my new blog, long tall sallie, modern-day explorer. I'll be posting there regularly, Monday through Friday, about the process of moving to a foreign country, learning a new language, and any helpful travel tips I discover or invent.

Thanks for reading.

Dang it, Christopher Paolini!

Dang it, Christopher Paolini!
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Ok, Christopher Paolini.

I get it.

I get the hype.

I wasn't ready to give you a ringing endorsement. You definitely were on my "eh" list of authors. When people asked about you, I said, "He's good for 15," or "He's still pretty young." Eragon and Eldest were just ok. Eldest was actually pretty dreadful, with the exception of Roran's story and character development, as another blogger (whose name and blog name I didn't pay attention to) pointed out. I stuck with you, though, because I enjoyed the story enough. Not completely, but just enough.

Brisingr, though, Mr. Paolini, has me cheering out loud. I'm gasping, crying, and pumping my fist. I'm captivated. What in the heck did you do between Eldest and Brisingr?

I'll tell you what you did: you got better. You saw what wasn't working, you ditched it, and found what did work, and you got better. I don't know who you talked to, what books you read, what people you observed, or how many hours you spent practicing, but you took a giant leap forward in your skill as a writer and storyteller, and I'm inspired by you. Good work, and thank you.

Photog

Hey, Internet!
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I love having an SLR and a tripod and a couple really awesome lenses. When I get a request for a photo for my new teaching job, I can set up an impromptu session and snap away. Granted, the photos don't come out as well as if someone was actually behind the camera, but they're pretty darn good for self-portraits.

Hey, internet: will you do me a favor and head on over to my Flickr page and let me know which one you like best? I'm leaning toward the one I posted here, but more eyes are always helpful.

Thanks, all five of you!

Bath Time

Bath Time 2
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I spent a weekend at home without really reading my email or any webcomics or any of my usual internet activities. It was four days. It felt like four months.

Everything moves too fast on the internet. I sort of kept up with Twitter, but I didn't read every single Tweet posted by every single person I follow. The result of missing large chunks of others' Twitter streams lead to my unfollowing a lot of them. It wasn't personal, I just realized that I wasn't that interested in what they had to say. I wouldn't be offended if one of you five people stopped reading my blog because you were no longer interested in what I had to say. My pride might be hurt, but I wouldn't be offended.

So, I guess I should spill the Big Can o' Beans: I've signed a contract to be a teaching artist in Korea next year. My contract runs from February 2010 to February 2011. I'm really excited for this adventure. I get to do something I really like doing AND get paid for it AND live in Asia AND pay off some debt and squirrel away some money for the Future. This is going to be a really cool year.

I'm nervous, though. My departure date is inching closer, and the reality of what's about to happen is hitting me, and my (very natural) fear of the unknown is creeping up on me. I shouldn't be nervous. I will know several people who are there already, and signs are in English and Korean, and it's apparently not that different that living in New York (cleaner, though!), so what am I nervous about?

I guess it's that I'll be uprooting my life once again for uncharted territory, which means that I have to pack up everything here in New York and Do Something with it, whether it's selling it, giving it away, or sending it back to Minnesota. (I'd really like to leave that last option as a last resort. The only things I want to take from here are my favorite clothes, shoes, and books.) I really loathe moving, as I've done it six times in the last two years (SIX TIMES). I'll also have to say goodbye to a lot of really awesome people and comforting routines for new people and new routines. Yes, yes, it'll be great, but it will also be uncomfortable. I don't enjoy being uncomfortable.

I know, I know. I'll get over it. And no, I shouldn't agonize over it now. I'm not really. I'm just...processing the magnitude of what I'm about to undertake. So many people never leave their state for an extended period of time, let alone the country of their birth.

This is weird.

Feesh

Feesh
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I'm fish-sitting. They're funny, these fish. They're pretty greedy, but I know I'm not supposed to give them too much food. And I read that the Angelfish tend to "beg" quite a bit. I can say that I've witnessed that very behavior: they swim to the top, looking at the surface of the water hopefully. (You wouldn't think fish could be so expressive.) I think the other fish have picked up this habit now, too. A bad influence, those Angelfish.

Today's the day of my audition to be a teaching artist in Korea. I'm not really that nervous; right now, at least. I may be, just before I go in, or just before I do my monologue. But I've had so many auditions in my time as an actor that my "let it go" skills are quite strong. Don't get me wrong: I sincerely hope they accept me. I've been itching to teach again, and getting to do so in Asia would be an awesome adventure. But I'm pretty relaxed about the whole thing. If there's someone better suited to the job than I am, so be it. I'll be glad they had top-knotch talent to choose from. (I also think that my lack of nervousness is because I have other things to be excited about should I not get the opportunity to teach in Korea. And, no, I can't tell you anything about it. Sorry.)

So, I'm taking the morning to relax and enjoy not having to be at work at 7am. I put some music on, I'm drinking coffee, and I'm catching up on my writing (can you believe it?). I think it's time to eat something now, too.

Wish me luck!


PS - Congratulations to Carissa and Jake on the birth of their daughter, Mavyn Olivia!

La Dee Da

La Dee Da
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Obligatory Blog Update.

It's Saturday. I'm showered and dressed to go to the library to try to find a monologue for my upcoming audition/interview to teach theatre in Korea. I'm still at home because I must finish my coffee. It pains my heart to waste coffee, so I don't.

It's been muggy and hot, and that kind of weather makes me lethargic.

I originally put on a dress, felt it brushing my thighs in a way it only does when I've gained weight, then said, "I'm too fat for this dress." I took it off and put on pants and a tank top. I didn't say I was fat, I said I was too fat for that particular dress. Yeah, so maybe I have a lot of clothes that were purchased when I was absurdly skinny. The fact remains that if I can't fit into these clothes, I will have three pairs of pants and two skirts that I can wear, and I hate doing laundry. So gaining weight is not an option.

This photo is an old photo. It's the mate of this one.

I wish I had a funny story for you.

I'm out of funny at the moment.

The Stench of Doubt

Shark Cove
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Currently watching the "Wrapped Around Your Finger" video on YouTube. The last time I went on a Police binge, I noticed that the video was directed by some mysterious persons named Godley & Creme. Godley & Creme are a British pop duo who also directed a few music videos in their time.

Following the internet bunny trail, I came across a story about the making of the "Wrapped Up Around Your Finger" video. To paraphrase (and if the story is to be believed), it seems as though Godley & Creme - and Sting - were interested in making art and seeing where it went, rather than making a hit music video. At the end of the 12 hour shoot, the producers decided they were done. Sting and the directors didn't want to be done, and after some discussion, the producers and directors agreed on one more take. If you've watched the video - which I hope you have, by now - you know that Sting runs through the burning candles and knocks them over and makes a big mess and it's beautiful and shocking and something I only wish I could do.

I can only imagine the tension on the set before a compromise was made. The producers need to keep the artists happy, the artists aren't happy, the crew has no say and therefore says nothing, but everyone's cringing and waiting for the explosion. I'm glad that the "Wrapped Around Your Finger" shoot resolved the way it did, but that one, tiny moment of doubt can derail the spirit of the entire shoot.

I can remember a few shoots I did where I wasn't getting the feedback my neurotic actor self wanted, and I started to doubt. Even though my intellectual mind said, "Dude, they cast YOU. Out of all the people they auditioned, they cast YOU. What are you freaking out for?" But freak out I did, and I felt like the world's biggest disaster, and so I might have been. All Doubt had to do was whisper the suggestion, "Um, you might not actually be good enough," and the train was off the track and screaming down into the canyon, bursting into flames as it hit bottom. Was it all in my mind? Probably.

After pitching a fit this week, it hit me that the source of all that angst was partly due to giving in to doubt. I doubted that my life would ever be any different than it is now. I doubted that I could make money doing what I liked. I doubted that my life has a purpose. A very wise friend, in trying to pull me out of that dark cloud, said, "When you change the way you look at things, what you look at changes." The world looked different today, and I thank everyone who's spoken encouragement into my life in the midst of my tantrums for that turnaround.

I know that I won't always feel bad. I know that I won't always feel buoyant. I might throw a few more tantrums. (This growing up thing is hard.) But I know that nothing will wreck me faster than doubt. If one is moving confidently toward a goal, there can't be any space left for doubt. People often put that as "There's no room for doubt," but I think there definitely can be. It's up to the individual to make sure they're so filled up with the Goal, all the corners and crevices stuffed, like, a Muffin Top of Goal squeezing between shirt and pants, that there is no space left for Doubt to drift in. Doubt is like a waft of unwelcome cigarette smoke in your apartment. You can't see it, you can't lay ahold of it, but you can smell it, and it's seeping into your stuff and irritating the crap out of you, and the only way to get rid of it is to stop it from coming in.

So, go get filled up with Goal. I'm off to do the same.

Monday, Monday

Refusal
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Bah dahhh, bah dah dah dah... (video)

It's still cloudy and rainy. There was a patch of sunlight streaming down through the skylight at work for about 10 minutes. Since then, clouds clouds clouds. I'm contemplating buying a sun lamp. I might need to start popping Vitamin D. Are my knees starting to bow? More than they do, that is?

I have no excuses as to why I'm not actively pursuing Acting Things right now. I can't even blame it on the weather. I suppose I could say that I'm taking some time off to try other things and figure out what it is that I really like to do with my time (other than sleeping and eating and reading).

And now, I will continue reliving those few weeks when I held my own illicit listening sessions to my sister's tape of Tragic Kingdom via Last.fm.

Happy Birthday, Ishy-Girl!

Haleakala Nat'l Park - Sunrise
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Yes, I pulled up a slightly embarrassing photo of you in honor of your birthday. Enjoy!

Weekend

Beatific
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

As I got out of bed this morning (which wasn't difficult because I got to sleep until 8:00, as opposed to my normal 4:45 or 5:00) and shuffled around, using the bathroom, washing my face, making my coffee, I thought, "It might actually be easier to not have weekends. It might be easier to rise at the same time every day, stumble off to work, sit there for eight hours accomplishing nothing, come home, eat the same meal, go to sleep, wake up, do it all over again. At least then I wouldn't have to deal with the Sunday Blues, knowing that the relaxation and calm and - dare I say it - happiness I feel will soon dissolve into Monday Morning Stress. At least then I could zone out completely, knowing that my situation would never change, that life was nothing but toil, and because there was no alternative, no hope for something better. Wouldn't that be easier to tolerate?"

Of course, that's not the way it is. But I did find myself wondering what the point of the weekend is. Sure, it gives me an opportunity to clean up my room and run all those errands I can't do during the work week. But those aren't exactly fun activities. It's just more Stuff I Have to Do. There's so little time for Stuff I Want to Do, and then the weekend's over and it's back to work. Sundays are almost always overcast with the dread of having to go back to That Place, so, really the "weekend" consists of Saturday, which is, as I said, filled with Stuff I Have to Do. So, what's the point?

Of course, I might feel differently if my work was the Stuff I Want to Do, would probably feel differently. Or maybe there would just be Different Stuff I Want to Do. It's difficult, right now, to believe that the two could merge.

Welp, Monday's coming, whether or not I want it to, so I might as well just get used to it, right?

Thinking About Food

Kimchee and Portuguese Sausage Omelette
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I think my stomach chose to upload this picture today.

I'm hungry. And I'm bored with the food I have to eat. It's all carb-a-licious, but in a really boring way. Bread, brown rice, lentils, ramen, granola. Hard to get excited about eating the same things day in and day out, but it's what my wallet will allow, and it makes for easy meals during the work week.

Oh, but I dream of exciting things like this kimchee and portuguese sausage omelette that I had in Hawaii. I saw it on the menu, thought, "That sounds like it could be terrible. I'll try it!" And you know what? It was awesome, of course. The kimchee was slightly spicy and the tang hit my tongue in just the right spot. The sausage had a spice of its own, but it mellowed out the sourness of the kimchee perfectly. Drooling a little just thinking about it.

However, by the end of the trip I was very tired of eating out. I was tired of staring at menus and trying to choose something to eat. I was tired of not knowing what the line cook was cooking my food in or on or with. I wanted my own preparations. That's a good sign, I suppose. It means that I have some skill in the kitchen, right? Or that I, at least, like the taste of my own cooking. And that's all that matters.

Bird of Paradise

Bird of Paradise
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

What a crazy flower. My first memory that has anything to do with this blossom is the singing flowers in the Tiki Room at Disneyland. The animatronic flowers had clacking beaks, just like the parrots.

I seem to be going into a dry spell. I sat down to write this afternoon and found there wasn't anything I wanted to write about. All I want to do is sleep and eat, and I don't crave anything that's good for me. Nope, it's Oreos and knock-off CheezIts all the way. The weather's been amazing this weekend, and I did get myself out of the house to enjoy it, but most of the time I just sat there watching people pass. So many cute dogs, so many children who've just learned to walk and always, in their zeal at upright forward motion, seem to be on the verge of taking a terrific header onto the pavement. So many delicious smells coming from dying blossoms I couldn't identify. So many bugs falling onto my shoulders and crawling down my shirt and landing in my hair. So much nature blowing into my nose and being forced back out with juicy sneezes.

I had a good time, but I didn't write a thing.

I suppose this counts, though.

Maybe the times when I don't have any desire to write are the best times to do so. I'm not so concerned about results, so I let my fingers wander where they will on the keyboard. I'll have to remember this feeling.

Fierce

Fierce
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Back from Hawaii and a much-needed escape from NYC. Did some running around, did some sitting around, did some staring into the ocean, did some more sitting around, did a LOT of eating, did some weight-gaining (that will drop away, shortly, I'm sure, now that I'm paying for my own meals again). I think Kauai and Big Island are tied for my favorites. I loved Maui, but I love the solace and languid pace of Big Island and Kauai much more. A week of strolling and sitting around in either of those places would be a fantastic vacation. However, there are two more islands to be explored before that happens: Molokai and Lanai. After those two, I will have visited every island available to outsiders (Ni'ihau is owned by a single family and one must be invited in order to go there, although that may have changed).

Being back in the city isn't as awful as I thought it would be. It may be that it just hasn't hit me yet that I don't have a single vacation from work coming up in the next two or three months. I'm not a lazy person, I just need the occasional mental health break from the repetitive nature of my current temp assignment. I must admit that it was nice to come back to work on a Friday and know that I had two more days to adjust to city pace before a full five-day work week. At the beginning of this last Hawaii adventure, I kept realizing that I'd left my family in the dust whenever we walked somewhere, and I had to stop and purposefully slow down. My sister admonished, "You don't need to walk so fast here!" and I answered, "I thought I wasn't walking that fast!" By the end of the trip, I'd learned how to amble again.

The final thing I've taken from this vacation is that I need to take better care of myself. That doesn't mean pampering (at least not all the time). It means getting my butt to yoga. It means budgeting for dance class three times a week. It means finally buying a loft so my bed doesn't dominate my bedroom. It means making time for the activities (and they need to be active) that keep my brain out of the miry mush of the doldrums. I've been neglecting my body, and as a result, I've been neglecting my mind and spirit. Time to get moving, because, as they say, you've only failed if you fall down and stay there.

Sunset Over Waikiki

Sunset Over Waikiki
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Hawaii is lovely. We're in Kauai until tomorrow evening, and I can't get over how peaceful it is here, how quiet. We checked into the hotel (which is MASSIVE, by the way) on Thursday, and the Memorial Weekend guests hadn't arrived yet, so the only sounds on the grounds were chirping birds, the occasional splash from the hotel pool, and the crash of the waves. POIFECT.

We're headed out to the "Best Beach in America" this morning, after breakfast. I shall have my judgmental eyes on, to see whether or not the place truly measures up. Not that I've been to that many beaches in the U.S., but I'll still wear my judgmental eyes.

One thing about Kauai: if I ever moved here, I'd never go hungry. There is an abundance of chickens running wild. They congregate in the tourist areas (because stupid people feed them), and almost every time we pulled out in the car we had to go slowly to avoid crushing baby chicks. But seriously: if I moved here, I'd never buy meat again. I would learn how to slaughter chickens and I'd grow my own vegetables and I'd have fried chicken, baked chicken, sauteed chicken, steamed chicken, boiled chicken, roast chicken... I'm going all Forrest Gump, so it's time to go.

Ta Da!

Ta Da!
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Reddish.

I really like it. And it's straight for the time being, which is unusual. I don't think my hair has been straight since 2007, and before that...2000. It's fun to see how much longer it is when it's all stretched out. It's much longer than I thought it was. Curly hair can shrink up to 75% of its size, according to NaturallyCurly.com. My hair is a prime example.

Who knows if I'll be able to afford to keep it? It wasn't as expensive as I thought it was going to be, so that's a plus. If I decide to let it go, it'll fade out and I'll be back to silver.

The funny thing is that looking at my silver hair, I never saw it as less than the dark hair I used to have. It was just another color. It was silver, now it's reddish. I wish the silvery stuff didn't have such strong connotations in the minds of the general public. It's a cool color.

But change is good! And I needed a change. So congratulate me that I didn't chicken out of the color in the chair.

Say Goodbye

Say Goodbye
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Hair appointment tomorrow. Grey hair goes bye bye, at least for a little while. I'm getting a demi-permanent color, so if I hate it, I can let it wash out and go away. If I like it, then I guess I keep it.

I like my greys. But I feel itchy for a change of some kind, and this is a good one to try out. We'll see if anything changes, career-wise. At least I'll have fewer strangers coming up to me in the subway and asking me how old I am, or "where I got all them greys from."

I'm still tired. I don't know why. I generally get enough sleep, I'm not eating terribly. I just feel...tired. I probably need more protein. Or a week of sleeping and waking when my body wants to, as opposed to when I have to.

And now, to balance my checkbook. My life is sexy.

Happy Mother's Day!

Hotties
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

To all the moms, and especially my own: thank you. You rock. You're patient, kind, supportive, wise, and love unconditionally, even when your children act like complete idiots (but that, like, never happens, right?).

THANK YOU!

Red and Blue

Red
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

The show has ended, and I'm back to being a 7-3:30 working stiff. And the funny thing is that I'm STILL TIRED. Why is it that I can't get myself to bed before 11:30pm? I know that I have to get up at 5:00 am, and yet I fritter away my sleeping time with...what? A whole lot of nothing that adds up to missed sleep and ridiculous amounts of caffeine consumed just to stay somewhat functional at work.

I'm a little blue now that the show is over. I'll feel it most this weekend when we're not doing the show. I expected to be full-on depressed for at least three days after the show ended, but I'm doing ok. I miss my peeps, but I'll see some of them this weekend, so I don't have long too wait before the reunion.

Speaking of this weekend, I'm catering for the first time since December. I accepted the job because, well, I spent a leeeetle too much money during the run of the show. I ate out a lot, went out a lot, and it turns out that I broke the bank a little. I can pay all my bills (Mom, Dad, Ishy-girl), I just can't eat out again for a while. So, catering again. It'll be a nice change from sitting at desk all day, and there are some fellow waiters I'd be happy to see again. Unfortunately, the gig is at Ellis Island, and that's almost never a pleasant time. There's a time crunch to get the guests fed and onto the last guest ferry, plus there's a time crunch at the top end when all the setting up has to be done in about an hour and a half after the museum closes and before guests arrive for the cocktail portion. It's stressful, but the best thing to do is keep your mouth shut and your hands folded until someone tells you to speak or do something. It's meditative, actually.

And for the fun surprise of the evening: going to see '33 Variations' tonight, starring Jane Fonda. A friend managed to score some last minute tickets, so off we go! And off I go. I must gussy up just a touch.

Toodles, kidlings.

Saturday in the Park

Saturday in the Park
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

What's better than the sun on your skin, a warm breeze ruffling your clothing, and cool green grass to stick your feet into?

Nothing, my friends.

We're on Day Two of The Beautiful: upper 80s, plenty of sunshine, and all day to enjoy it because The Beautiful finally fell on a weekend instead of popping up on a Thursday to taunt me. I spent the majority of the afternoon in Central Park, strolling under the cherry blossoms along the reservoir and watching all the dogs and people and bikers and bird watchers and toddling babies.

And now I'm going out again to fill my vitamin D reservoir before I get chained to the phone for eight hours for the next five days.

Ta!

A Little Light, Very Little Space

A Little Light, Very Little Space
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I'm moved! Back to Manhattan. And now that I'm moved, I can think.

The first night in my new place was a little depressing. Tiny room, nothing unpacked, missing my old place that seemed fantastic by comparison. The next morning, I walked out of the building, walked half a block, walked a north-south block, and went down into the subway and thought, "Oh yeah! This is part of the reason I moved." No more six- or seven-block walk to the subway. And yesterday, oh yesterday! I walked two blocks to Central Park to eat my bagel and drink my coffee. TWO BLOCKS. Kidlings, I am two blocks from Central Park and two blocks from Riverside Park. And all around me are one of the things I love most: beautiful buildings.

So, on the one hand, the stupid hand: mortgage-sized rent, tiny room, sharing space with another adult, not yet feeling comfortable in the kitchen and living room, side neighbors who walk like elephants. On the other hand, the pretty, sparkly, lovable hand: TWO BLOCKS FROM THE PARKS, restaurants, cafes and wine bars galore, 1 block from the subway, fire escape out which to dangle my feet in warmer weather, Starbucks, top floor apartment, and did I mention Central Park is right there? I'm in love again.

Rehearsal is going well. We definitely have a show, and it just needs some tweaking here and there. I love my cast so much. They make me laugh and they show me things in a different light and everyone is so willing to take risks and look silly and try things out and I really am going to miss them when this is over in a month. But before that's over, if you're in New York, you should come see the show!

The Less We Talk
by Alec Duffy
at the Ontological Hysteric Theatre in St. Mark's Church
April 16 - May 2, 8:00pm
www.hoipolloiworld.com

Rehearsal Has Eaten My Life

Rehearsal Has Eaten My Life
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

First full week of rehearsal is done, and, as predicted, I am WORN OUT. By Thursday, I was ready to firebomb my workplace, just so I'd have an excuse to stay in bed. (That may be a little extreme, but I'm the Queen of Hyperbole.)

I think I finally made my peace with the fact that New York is ridiculous and that's just the way it is. It no longer enrages me that I pay $850 for an apartment the size of some people's walk-in closets. I still get mad at people who throw their trash in the street and on the subway tracks, but am I really going to say anything to them? No (unless I'm having an "I feel reckless" day; I tend to throw my weight around a bit more on those days, so don't be standing in front of the subway doors when I'm trying to get off or I will hip-check you without remorse). This place is dirty, and smelly, and sagging and staggering under its own weight and bloated sense of importance, and that's just the way it is. I, alone, cannot change that.

You might be able to tell that I still don't love it here, but I'm not going to waste my breath or energy getting angry about its flaws. The flip side of the shoulder-shrug "oh well" attitude is that I feel a sharp pang of longing every time I see or read about a home that fits my dream. I see green lawns, flower gardens, white oak moulding and space space space and I moan a little under my breath. I don't yearn for real estate for prestige, profit, or financial flim-flammery: I just want a real home. A space that I walk into and sigh with relief because it's beautiful and it's mine. Doesn't need to be huge, just comfortable, clean, and quiet.

Someday.

Bye Bye Bed

Bye Bye Bed
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Leak Watch 2009 seems to be over. I still haven't taken down the plastic bag from the exhaust fan. Maybe when I move.

I bought another air mattress. I'm so excited to not have to wake every three hours to blow up the bed because I'm sleeping in a folding position and my butt is almost on the floor. If I've learned anything here, it's that you don't skimp on shoes or sleep. Buy the expensive, well-made shoes that fit well and support your foot. Buy the perfect mattress for you, because those 60-70 hour work weeks will catch up with you really fast if you're not sleeping well.

Speaking of 60 hour work weeks, rehearsal starts next week for The Less We Talk. I can't express how much fun this show is going to be to create. I can't wait to see what Alec has done with all the material we've generated. I can't wait to see my workshop peeps again and get to know some new ones. I can't wait to spend hours creating and letting the rest of the world go on without me.

Fourth Time's A Charm

Fourth Time's a Charm.jpg
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I'm currently eating ramen out of the pot I cooked it in. I didn't put it into a bowl. My life is too stressful for bowls.

Kidlings, I was so tired on the bus home tonight. I kept falling asleep. All I wanted to do was curl up in my bed.

But, no. I had to come home to another Cascade of Contaminated Water ®. I called the office. "I need someone to come fix this." "I'm calling the guy right now." I hung up. I started to clean it up, but then I thought, "No. No. They need to come up here and see this." I called downstairs again. "Can you come up here right now? I want someone to see this." "Oh, no...I don't really handle repairs. That's Dougie, or Sean." "Well, it's not just a little leak. It's almost a gallon of dirty water each time it happens." "Oh, goodness! I'll send Sean up as soon as he gets back from the store."

And did she? No. I had to call again. "I'll be up in five minutes, ma'am." He did come, and he examined the nastiness, and promised that the repairman (the aforementioned "Dougie") would be arriving some time this evening after he fixed the heat in another building.

It's 6:01. "Dougie" has until 6:30, then I start drafting my notice of withholding $50 of March's rent until this situation is remedied.

I was annoyed. Now, I'm starting to get pissed.


UPDATE: "Dougie" did indeed show up. He guessed that the upstairs guy's bathroom was leaking water somewhere. He trooped upstairs, knocked on the door, and discovered that yes, indeed, something had broken up there and so water was cascading down the wall and into my apartment. Good to know that Mr. Upstairs has showered four times in the last five days.

Keep your fingers crossed that this thing gets fixed tomorrow.

It Pays to Be Prepared

It Pays to Be Prepared
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I can't stop giggling. I mean, really? My living situation has become absurd.

So, yeah: caught the leaky exhaust fan in the act. Well, not really. I came home from the grocery store (gone for 30 minutes!) and found this when I went to take out my contacts.

That's not a small amount of water. And the fact that it's orangey-brown? Ew. Ewewewewewew. Please don't be toilet water.

I should write to Glad or Hefty or whoever made this trash bag and tell them that they saved my bathroom.

And I definitely need to write a Love Poem to duct tape. That stuff has been my best friend over the last year.

Happy Valentine's Day

It Rained in My Bathroom
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

*sigh*

Two more months.

Two more months.

Two more months.

It rained in my bathroom last night. Twice. Which is funny, because Lauren had just mentioned something about her bathroom ceiling leaking. I have no idea what happened, but water poured out of the exhaust fan in the ceiling at some point yesterday, leaving my bathroom a dirty mess. It smelled like a construction site, like wet drywall. I cleaned it up, then went to bed. Woke up to use the bathroom, it had happened again. Big puddles on the floor and everything. And of course this happened on a Friday night, so I can't get anything done about it until Monday, or maybe even Tuesday as Monday's a holiday.

Two more months.

Two more months.

Two more months.

"When are you going to get married and have kids?"

Wiped
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I've always dodged the "when are you going to get married and have kids?" question. It irked me. As if it's nothing to find a decent man who'll be a good father and provider and won't make you want to kill him every day for the next 30 years. I deflected by saying, "When someone asks me," or, "I really don't care." And I thought I didn't; care, that is. No man was clamoring for my hand in marriage, so kids weren't even something to be considered.

After reading a blog this afternoon (that I will not link because it's not necessarily Mother Approved®) about how young women who secretly want to have kids should stop fooling themselves with the "I'm focusing on my career" nonsense and settle down in their 20s because easy baby-making time pretty much ends at 35, I got walloped in the face with the fact that, yes, I do want to pop out a rugrat or two. I always assumed I would, at some point. But suddenly the deadline for "some point" is no longer some distant horizon. It's in clear focus and it's zooming up on me like a "Last chance for gas" sign on a desert highway. I want a husband and kids, but where does that leave my romantic notions of being in love and taking time just to be with my husband before the children come?

Let's say I meet someone tomorrow that, tomorrow, asks me to marry him, and I, in a totally uncharacteristic move, say yes. If we troop down to City Hall, get our marriage certificate and get married by the Justice of the Peace, we could, technically, start having kids next week; if we got pregnant that soon, that is. It could happen, or it could take months, or years. If it takes years, we may only get one out before my body says, "Nope! Sorry. Shop's closed. Forever. Adopt. (Africa is the new China!)" But let's say I do get pregnant pretty quickly. I have known my husband for a matter of weeks, and now a child is on the way. We barely know each other, much less how we'll handle a child together. And what about being in love? I've never been in love (never allowed myself to be in love?). I'd like to know what it's like to be head-over-heels crazy for someone.

Of course, that scenario is completely hyperbolic and hypothetical. But I always dreamed that I'd have at least two or three years of just the two of us before any babies came. That might not happen now, if I get married at all. See, here's the 500th worry: what if no one wants to marry me precisely because they want kids and they think I'm too old for baby-making? Men can, of course, keep making babies until they die. So there's nothing stopping a 40-something man from marrying a 20-something woman to be the father of his children. And that leaves those of us in the middle shut out in the cold.

Yes, I know I'm overreacting. I know I'm overreacting, please don't leave any comments saying, "You're overreacting." Ultimately, life is what it is. If I'm single for the rest of my life, I'll make the best of it. What other choice do I have? But I'd feel like I missed out on something fun and special, and I'd always wonder what kind of mother I would have been.

"Do you talk, like, like nice, all the time?"

University College Dorm
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

My coworker asked me if I "talk nice all the time." I said, "What do you mean? Not 'black'?" He laughed a little, then said, "No, like, I mean, yeah, you talk nice here at work because you wanna be professional and stuff, but when you're with your friends, do you talk all hard and stuff, like 'Yeah...', you know?" I answered, "Yes, I 'talk nice' all the time. This is just the way I speak."

I'm proud of him for asking, because most (non-black) people (who haven't known me for a while) just think that question, and never ask. It's potentially embarrassing, because non-black people sometimes have a hard time acknowledging racial differences. But yes, I do "talk nice" all the time.

I don't code switch. I know what it is, but I don't do it. I suppose it's because I've never heard my parents speak anything but grammatically correct, clear English, and because I was raised in an environment that was 90% white. I'm also an avid reader, and always have been; I ended up a highly verbal person (much to the detriment of my grades in math after 6th grade). I'm proud of the way I speak, and I'm also a little snobbish about it.

It grates on my ears when I have to continually listen to bad grammar. (Maybe that's why my hair is 50% whiter than when I left: riding the subway can be a harrowing auditory experience.) These days, I have to listen to it all day, and I often bite back screams and nasty comments. Is it so difficult to properly conjugate "to be"? I am, she is, he is, you are, we are, they are. I was, she was, he was, you were, we were, they were. I know English is screwy, but these are very basic rules, and we hear them used correctly every day. So why doesn't it sink in for some people?

I know certain dialects are a source of pride for others, just as I take pride in the way I speak the English language. I'm not always right, especially when conversing with my friends, but in a business setting, please use standard English. Language evolved to help us understand one another better. If you're speaking a different language, I'm going to get frustrated because I can't understand you. If there is an agreed upon standard - and in this case, it's "business english" - then let's use it.

So, yeah. I do "talk nice all the time."

London Bridge

London Bridge
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Visiting London this fall was totally different than the six weeks I spent there in 1999. Maybe it was because we kept to the tourist areas, and maybe it's because I was older, or maybe it's because London has changed, but the trip definitely had a different feel.

I didn't care for London as much this time around. It had lost some of its "Londonness." I felt as if I could be in any (Northern hemisphere) major city in the Western world: London, Paris, New York, Chicago, whatever. Lots of people, congested roads, crowded public transport, dirt, decay, and tourists everywhere.

Are major cities all becoming generic versions of each other? I appreciate being able to see familiar brands when I'm overseas, but the relief of familiarity is discolored by the feeling that I might as well be at home if things aren't so different somewhere else. The only time I felt as though I'd stepped back into the London I remembered was visiting my dorm at University College. We didn't get to go inside, but I stood out front while my Mom took a photo. That area - Bloomsbury - felt real. High Holborn Street, the Tower, even wandering around the City and financial district: they didn't feel real.

I'm not saying I wouldn't go back. I just want to spend more time somewhere outside the main city, away from the bustle and sameness.

In other news, I made $16,032.38 in 2008. In New York. Ha!

At least I get to watch the sun rise

Athens
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Got up at 4 today because I had to wash my hair. Went to sleep at 10:30 or so. I'm not sleepy today, but I might be tomorrow.

This job is great, aside from the fact that the rest of the world is usually up much later than 8:30, which is when I would, ideally, like to go to bed, so I'll probably be sleep-deprived as long as I do more than go to work and come home.

Gotta go catch a bus. They moved the department I'm working in to Brooklyn. Kinda good for me, because it knocks about 10 minutes off my commute, but it's not exactly simple to get to, so I still have to leave about 50 minutes before I need to be there.

UGH. I'm talking about WORK and APARTMENTS and GOING TO BED AT 8:30. When did I get so old?

Oops

Oops
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I rearranged last night. I moved my desk so that it faces the window. The motivation was less "I need something new" and more "I want the heat to actually radiate into the room and not just the side of my desk."

It's chilly outside. 30 degrees. I'm really boring today, kidlings. I think my novel has stolen all my words and ideas.

Actually, no. What happened is that I haven't been filling the well. Julia Cameron encourages artists to keep replenishing their "well of creativity." We can't keep running on empty, churning out work without suffering the consequences, i.e. burnout, writer's block, addictive behaviors.

The workshop was a source of creative energy for me, and now that it's over, I have to go elsewhere for creative juice. I haven't been doing that. I've been freaking out about my financial situation. I'm going to stop doing that now.

For today's refill, I think I'll walk in Central Park. (Yes, it's cold, but I'm from Minnesota and I'm not scurred.) I would love to watch a dance class, but you can't get into the dancing area of Broadway Dance Center without paying for a class. Maybe I could go to Port Authority bus station, go up to one of the upper levels and watch class at Alvin Ailey. Eh. Too much work. I would also like to bake something, but my oven is still not functioning. Poop.

What are you doing to fill your creative well?

Some bubbly, perhaps?

Some bubbly, perhaps?
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

That glass of champagne is also being raised to my fellow "The Less We Talk" workshoppers. Thank you for an extremely fun and educational process. I wouldn't have learned as much if you all weren't as fearless and supportive as you were! See you soon!

***************

I was thinking about networking a few days ago. I'm looking for another job and I tell EVERYONE, knowing that I can get information and leads from friends and acquaintances. It doesn't matter whether or not they directly have something for me. They may know someone who knows someone who knows someone, and that's better than nothing.

I really appreciate that sense of sharing information and helping everyone at the same time: you have a job, I'm looking for one. If I fit, you fill your job, and you think highly of the friends that helped you find the right candidate. Win-win!

What I don't appreciate is when people are hesitant about sharing information with me because they don't think I can help them. I remember one instance, riding home from a dinner party organized by a Minnesota friend, two other attendees were exchanging business cards. I already had the business card of one of them, and I asked the other if I could have one as well. He hesitated, obviously reluctant to give me one. I almost wanted to say, "Wow. Were they expensive? You don't have to waste one on me if you don't want to," but I held my tongue and smiled.

I learned something in that moment. I learned that, personally, I'm happy to give people my contact information. I never know what projects you'll be up to in the future, and you never know what I'll be up to in the future. I may need your skill set exactly, and in five years time you may get a call out of the blue from me saying, "Hey, you're the only one I know who can do this. Can you?" Every interaction is a chance for both parties to advance, to live the principle of "win-win" rather than "win-lose."

So, "win-win," people! Help each other. It really doesn't cost you anything unless you let it.

Metro

Metro
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I have orange pulp between two of my molars. Ugh. Time for floss.

For not having done that particular monologue in months, my audition went well. I didn't walk out feeling like I "should have done X!" and the director said "That was very nice." I'll take it.

I tried something new in that audition. Normally, I only have about five seconds of silence before I start talking, if even that. But because of the work we've been doing in this workshop, I decided to "see and be seen" before I moved into the meat of the monologue. It's a clown term that basically means let the audience see you and you connect with them before you start doing anything. Obviously I don't want to make eye contact with the auditor (too confrontational), but I can enter the space that I've created, let him look at me and take me in, and then start the monologue. So there was a good 30 seconds of silence at the top of my audition piece. And it felt good. So using that again.

Coliseum in the Sun

Coliseum in the Sun
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Hey! I'm back.

Sorry. I've been sniffling, sneezing, moaning and moping about the house for the last few days; when I wasn't shooting a music video or workshopping or catering, that is.

SO. I watched the episode of Life On Mars for which I was an extra. I am there, I am visible. It was cool to know that thousands of people had watched that episode. Granted, no one was looking at me in the background, but it was still cool.

I have a confession to make, though. There was an additional scene that involved all the BLA members sans me. That was, um, hard to watch. It was cool to see all the people I'd hung out with for two days, but I couldn't help wondering I had done something wrong in that I wasn't invited back for another day of work. Had I not behaved myself? Did I totally suck? Was I pulling focus? What did I do?

And in the end, I'll never know. There's no reason for me to beat myself up over it. No actor mind taffy!

Speaking of acting, things may, um, be changing for me. I may or may not have a full-time job come, oh, tomorrow. Which means that acting would be relegated to evenings and weekends. That's how I started in Minnesota. Not a bad way to start over here. But, once again, nothing is set in stone. I'll keep ya posted.

UPDATE: Yeah, no full-time job. I had it, and then I let it go. I kind of convulse into a laughing fit whenever I think about it. Mostly because turning it down makes no sense. But then again, chasing a dream never makes sense looking forward. Looking backward, though:

As we look back and survey the terrain to determine where we've been and where we are in relationship to where we're going, we clearly see that we could not have gotten where we are without coming the way we came. There aren't any other roads; there aren't any shortcuts. There's no way to parachute into this terrain.

-The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People

Il Coliseo

Il Coliseo
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I liked visiting the Coliseum. I was in a bit of a funk when we got there (for whatever reason; something trivial, I'm sure), but it was awesome to tromp around in there walking in the footsteps of ancient people. Always supa cool.

I woke up with a sore throat this morning. It was with me yesterday, but I thought it was because I hadn't had enough water. Nope. It's the scratchy kind that announces that unwelcome visitor: the virus. So I stayed in bed as long as I could. (I got released from the catering gig last night at 12:30 am, didn't get home until 2:15 am due to track work and wonky trains and waiting waiting waiting.)

I fear that my novel may suffer if I start suffering from a cold, so I will employ a strategy that seems to work well: sleep as much as possible right away to keep the ick from dragging out for days.

News flash: W00t! I just scheduled an audition for next week for a company I auditioned for in the spring. Yay! I love when that happens.

The Forum

The Forum
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

The civic center of ancient Rome over there.

Now go do your American civic duty (and hard-won privilege, let's not forget the people who have given and are still giving their lives for our right to make our voices heard) and GO VOTE. Don't forget, don't let the time get past you, don't let yourself get busy with other things.

VOTE.


UPDATE: I voted. It was good.

Crest Ad

Crest Ad
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Hey Crest! Hire me!

New shots of me on the tail-end of this photo set. I'm considering using one or two of them as a current headshot. Lemme know here or there which ones you like, please?


*The date is for November 1st so this blog stays up top long enough for YOU to weigh in on the fo-toze.

Not Lava

Not Lava
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

The wall of the excavation thus far, which our tour guide kept attributing to a flow of "cold lava." Any thinking person knows that this is IMPOSSIBLE, as lava, when it's cold, is rock.

What happened at Herculaneum was a mudslide.

***************

Whew. Not a whole lot goin' on over here.

Doo dee do dee doooo...

Anybody know any jokes?

I Know You're Totally Jealous

I Know You're Totally Jealous
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Wow. Teenage girls love them some Jonas Brothers.

Worked a private concert yesterday for the clients of Netjet and MarquisJet. Hundreds of screaming little girls in attendance.

There was a projection screen above the stage that said, "Text the Jonas Brothers at 612-***-****!" (612?) The sent messages would then scroll at the bottom of the screen. One message said, "I'm saving myself for you! Meet me backstage!" Whoa.

Parthenon

Parthenon - Aisha
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I let myself sleep in today.

I start rehearsals for The Less We Talk, a group-singing piece, next Tuesday. Hooray! I'm also doing work study at a yoga studio at 6:45 am on Friday mornings. Ew.

I've missed doing work study. I worked at Zenon every Saturday morning for three years, off and on. I enjoyed the early morning shift because it was peaceful, and the regularity in my schedule kept me anchored when other calendar items and to do's were driving me nuts. I think this work study, as early in the morning as it is, will be really good for me, not to mention the fact that I get free, unlimited yoga classes! My body will get a chance to build strength and recover from injury, and that is a beautiful thing.

Yup, I was there

Yup, I was there
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I was SO DIRTY by this point in the day. It was our last stop and sand had been blowing on us all day. When I went to wash my shirt, I noticed that it had a yellow tinge to it.

GAH. 10:00. I have to go. Sorry, guys. Got home from catering (for the Prince of Luxembourg!) at 2:15 am. Training for work study at a yoga studio in an hour.

*sigh*

This is how it will be for the next few weeks. Gross.

Giza

Giza
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I didn't notice until we took this picture that all of us were wearing white shirts.

Our exchange student from 1995 and 1996(?), Maria, and her mother are here in New York for a few days. So little time! That means a lot of running around trying to see the major sights. I took them to Grand Central last night - where we ended up eating dinner - and they really enjoyed the architecture of the train station. It felt good to show them something they really enjoyed, because they would ask, at points on our walk, "What is that?" and I'd say, "Um...I don't know." I'm a bad guide when it comes to the tourist stuff.

This evening we're going up to the top of Rockefeller Center to look out on the city. That should be fun, as I haven't been up to an observation deck since the Empire State Building on a high school choir trip.

(May I admit, though, that I'm a little pooped from all that walking and trying to speak Spanish?)

Step Pyramid at Sakkara (Saqqara)

Step Pyramid at Sakkara (Saqqara)
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Sakkara.

I'm all a-twitter. Bonnie Gillespie commented on my blog. I feel like I've been visited by Yoda. Not meaning that she's green and tiny and talks backwards, but that I'm the padawan and she's the Jedi Master.

Catered at Ellis Island last night. Hoo boy. Not fun. Not fun at all. I think the people who've worked that location before have had unpleasant experiences, and they bring those memories with them, and so everyone's expecting a bad night and that's what they get. Not to mention that some personalities (not naming names to protect myself) are high-stress anyway, and they set everyone off on the wrong foot, i.e. the cranky, yelling foot; even people who I've never seen yell. It was the most unpleasant job I've worked thus far.

Not to end on that note, here's my Cub commercial, up on the interwebs!

Rhodes

Rhodes
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Oh, the blank page.

The empty text box that pops up on Flickr for the "Blog This" function is intimidating today. I find that I'm not burning to say anything or expound on a photo or rant. That's a scary time, when there's nothing in the well. (Well, there's something in there, but it's frustration, and a feeling of being blocked at every turn, but that's not much fun to read, so I refrain.)

The blank page taunts me. It speaks in the voices of the doubters and cynics. It says, "Who do you think you are? What makes what you have to say so important?" I don't have an answer to that question. I don't. I only know that I'm compelled to keep doing this, keep putting one word after another, even if it's not anything anyone else wants to read or hear. I wish I had an explanation for the compulsion, because it would make me feel a whole lot better (*controlfreak*), but I don't. I write because I must. And when I don't write, something goes wrong inside that is equally impossible to explain.

The fear of the blank page is why I do NaNoWriMo. At least once every year I abandon the idea that I can only write when the muse strikes me. I hogtie the taunting voices. I toss aside the notion that every word has to be profound and just tell a story. It's a lurching, sometimes grotesque thing, the story that emerges, but NaNoWriMo doesn't care about pretty. Pretty and Perfect is boring. Grotesque gives me something to work with.

I'm feeling naked now. I think that's ok.

Silk

Silk
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

My day was not like silk at all.

I woke up this morning and thought, "Wow, I'm well-rested for having gone to sleep at 1am. Oh dear. i wonder if my alarm didn't go off." I crawled out of bed, thinking it was 8 am, not 7, the target time. I looked at my phone. "9:39."

Oh crap.

I was supposed to be at Lincoln Center at 10. I live in Brooklyn. It can be an hour-long trip from my house to Lincoln Center.

I called the catering office. No one answered. I desperately wanted to shower, but there was no time. I was already going to be at least a half hour late.

I washed my face, swabbed at my pits, threw on my catering clothes and ran out the door. It was a beautiful, globally-warmed mid-October day, but I barely noticed. All I could think was, "Late. Late. Late. Never been late. Hate being late to work. Late. Late. Late."

I arrived at about 10:40. Ugh. And since I didn't get to do my morning ritual (make coffee, write three pages, drink coffee, read blogs and news, shower, get dressed, eat something, leave) I felt discombobulated all morning.

The good news is that I got my checks for "Life On Mars" today. Bad news: TAXES. Ick. I hate New York taxes. You Minnesotans think you get taxed a lot. You're wrong. At least it's a set amount, not 20%, or 22%, or 25%. (One week at my last job, I made more than normal, about $460. They took 24% out of my check. I mean, really? Obviously I'm not super wealthy if I'm only making $460 a week, and that was more than normal. MUST you take a quarter of it? And for what? Rat and cockroach upkeep? Come on.)

I got released earlier than expected (*sad face*) so I have time to come home, take a shower, and make myself presentable for my work study interview. (I'm hoping to take yoga and get my body back into dancing shape.)

Ciao, kidlings.

Finished Silk Skeins

Finished Silk Skeins
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I've been working most days the last few weeks, so to not be working feels strange, and I'm antsy. I have things I could do around the house, but I don't want to do them. I want to work.

I wish I had some paint.

Silkworm Cocoons

Silkworm Cocoons
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Catering a lot. That's good!
It makes me lazy in my off time. That's bad.
Doing more background (extra) work today. That's good!
No work tomorrow. That's bad.
Anxious to get my demo reel cut together. That's good!
Can't get the video ripping software to work. That's bad.
Generally a whole lot more cheerful these days. That's good!
The weather's supposed to be in the upper 70s today. That's...not so bad, actually.

NaNoWriMo starts in, like, three weeks. I have no idea what I'm writing about, but I'm DOING IT. I keep trying to coerce people to do it with me. "Come on, don't you want to go nuts for a month? No, there are no official prizes. Isn't self-satisfaction after abject suffering enough for you?"

Heh.

Wishes

Wishes
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

So...I took a day off yesterday. Didn't mean to, just didn't feel like doing anything other than reading in bed. And eating. Lots of eating.

Currently reading Horse Heaven by Jane Smiley. I read another novel of hers, Moo, on the cruise. The ships have libraries, and I took full advantage of that this time around. Read some good ones and some real stinkers. Moo was not a stinker. I was giggling out loud two pages in. Horse Heaven is even better.

Jane Smiley's writing is like no one else's I've ever read. It's almost conversational, but her wit and poetical turns-of-phrase elevate it above ordinary. She also seems to have mined my thoughts for her characters. She knows how to write women. It's sad that that's a surprise, but all too many authors write women who don't exist, at least not in my world. Jane Smiley knows women, and she writes her female characters with all the complexities and contradictions real women possess.

I am a fan for life. That's high praise, coming from me: I'm always hesitant to name names when someone asks me "who's your favorite author?" or "what's your favorite book?" Jane Smiley has made the list.

Skinny Mama Kitty

Skinny Mama Kitty
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I do get a day off!

But Day Off has become Laundry Day. I don't like Laundry Day. But I'm running out of clean clothes, so Laundry Day must commence.

I'm feeling the desire to withdraw again. I've come to realize that any time I'm faced with a tough decision, all I want to do is curl up in bed with a book and a package of cookies.

I've been wanting to do a lot of curled-up cookie-eating these days.

Mykonos

Mykonos
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Goodness. What a weekend.

So, to recap:

- 12-hour catering shift in Westchester, broken down bus, home at 4:30am
- keys lost, locked out until Monday afternoon, wandered around Manhattan from 4:30 until 9:00 am on Sunday, called a locksmith, couldn't cough up $240, checked into a hotel
- 5 am call for catering on Monday morning
- interview this morning with a really great company, torn about what to do next if offered the job

Catering again tonight. Fortunately for me, it's in Brooklyn, about three stops away on the subway.

I have some decisions to make, and many tasks to do, but all I want to do is sleep. The chaos of the weekend really messed up my routine, and I feel like I need a day to get back on track. I'm not going to get one, though.

Whew

So, I got released at 9 pm. Not as much overtime as I'd hoped, but still an 11 and a half hour day. Not bad.

A few semi-famous folks on set, and a few famous ones.

The semi-famous:

Gretchen Mol



Michael Imperioli



Jason O'Mara, the lead (had *no* idea he was Irish)



The famous:

Harvey Keitel



There were some other people, but I didn't recognize them or know their names, so I can't look them up. And I am tired. I want to sleep. So good night.

More live-blogging on Thursday!

Published!

DSC_2423_2.JPG
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

This photo was included in the fifth edition of the Schmap Boston Guide. If you go to the link, you'll see that it's part of a rotating set of photos for the Old North Church section.

Ima published fo-to-graf-er! Yee haw!

------------------------------------

I'm a little down today. Money's tighter than it has been in a long time, and that fact caught me by surprise. Temp jobs are non-existent, and catering just isn't as busy as I'd hoped or wanted it to be. I'm not getting any responses to resume submissions. I don't look as good on paper as I do in person (heh), so it's hard to get people to believe that I'm as great as I say I am when they don't see the evidence in cold facts and figures.

It's difficult to get non-artists to understand that I've practiced, daily for the past five years, all the skills I need to be successful at any job. I'm adaptable: an artist/actor/stage manager needs to be able to change gears quickly to fit the needs of the current situation. I'm a fast learner: a week-long rehearsal process forces one to absorb new information quickly and succinctly; in order to create marketing materials like web pages, postcards and representation solicitation packets, and business organization tools like payment tracking spreadsheets, I had to delve into learning new design and organizational software. I'm patient and goal-oriented: days and weeks of no work, or non-job-related work, has taught me to keep my eyes on the goal, no matter what the current circumstances say. I'm detail-oriented: there are a million facets to being an independent contractor, and I must keep every single ball in the air - and make it look easy in the process - to be successful.

I can do almost anything. I know this. How do I get a stranger to recognize my talent?

"Stand over there and look scared."

"Stand over there and look scared."
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Last night.

- catering gig: Clinton's Global Initiative

- sighted: Big Willy himself. Came through the hallway where the caterers were working, took a minute to come say 'hi' and shake the hands of some of the staff. Skinnier than I remember him.

- sighted: Rev. Jesse Jackson. Rolled up to the bar as I was clearing glassware and plates. More handsome in person than on tv.

- not sighted: Mohammed Ali and Madeleine Albright. Might have seen Albright. Wouldn't recognize her if I did.

- spilled: two glasses of red wine. One glass landed on the floor, spraying glass shards and wine all over some woman, who proceeded to give me death glares. Other one didn't break, but sent red wine down my side. Thank goodness for black clothing.

- strained: every muscle in my lower back. Look, folks. If you're at a catered affair, and there's someone moving through a very crowded room with a tray full of heavy items who says, "Excuse me," please move, and not just half an inch away. It's heavy, and her back is probably burning and unless you want the whole tray on your foot, MOVE. (And if it does fall, don't look at her like she's a clumsy oaf. Have you been carrying a heavy tray back and forth for two hours?)

- consumed: cold leftovers at the end of a very long night.

Consensus: some catering gigs are easy, others make you want to drop your tray full of red wine glasses on some haughty chick and walk away forever.

Archimedes

Archimedes
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

One of my few souvenirs from Europe. As mentioned before,I don't feel like buying a lot for no reason. This little guy called to me, though. I named him Archimedes after the owl in Sword & the Stone, a blustery, stuffy, fussy little fellow who was always something of a mess despite the exactitude he wished to project.

Autumn invigorates me. Winter slows everything down, spring makes me itchy, summer lulls me to sleep, and fall makes me want to run around in circles in a field until I fall down. I love fall. I love the clothes I get to wear in fall. Tights, wool skirts, sweaters, scarves. Like I said, I'm a romantic.

Sooo! I want to do NaNoWriMo this year, but I'm supposed to be studying for the LSAT as well. Hm. Can I do it? I really want to. I feel like the daily writing and sharing is good practice, and I want to keep up the habit. NaNoWriMo is a great way to do that. But I also know that I'm not one of the disciplined ones who writes her 1667 words each day. I delay and delay and delay and end up freaking out the second-to-last week of November thinking, "Holy crap! Where did the time go? I'm never going to finish! But I must!" And sometimes I do, and sometimes I don't. But if I want to write, I have to do the work, right? So I will do the work.

NaNoWriMo is great because you're given permission (by the "powers that be" over there somewhere in California, and thousands of other NaNoers) to write badly and without restraint. Of course, everyone would love for their novel to be brilliant, but no one's novel is brilliant on the first draft. So NaNo says, "Go ahead and be bad. Just get the story out. You can go back and edit later. Don't beat yourself up about the astronomical crappiness right now." I love that.

Bah. I've gotta get out of my house and enjoy this lovely autumn day. Ciao, chickens!

Stolen

Stolen
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

They're never giving these puppies back.

Waiting for the building maintenance man to come so that he can light the oven's pilot light. It's been out for a few months, and I didn't think anything of it. My father took a different tack. He mentioned the "constant trickle of gas" and "places blowing up", and that got me moving. These are things I knew, but didn't think too deeply about until I realized that I'll soon be closing my windows. A + B = C. So I talked to the management office yesterday. Hopefully this dude actually comes. They don't have the best record when it comes to that stuff.

Audition this evening for a one-act. It'd be nice to get it. I'm not being facetious to hide my excitement or anything. It takes a lot of energy to exist here, and it takes a lot of energy to get excited about things, especially things that 90% of the time do not go the way you'd like them to go, so I'm choosing my battles. It'd be nice, but I'm not counting on anything.

I stumbled on The Simple Woman's blog and magazine and I think I'm in love. Despite my dry humor, I'm a romantic. A cynical romantic, if you will, if I may. I used my fountain pen and leather journal to complete a "Daybook" entry, and I could feel all the churny bits inside settling into a nice, lazy pattern of movement. I smiled and danced to my iTunes playlist. I used my fountain pen for the first time in months! When I leave this city, I'm finding myself a farmhouse.

Biceps are sore from catering last night. The event was at one of the catering co's exclusive spots: Jazz at Lincoln Center. Sanit, the area where we drop dirty things, was on the 6th floor. The place where the people got rid of their dirty things was on the 5th floor. We aren't allowed to use the elevators. Stairs ahoy! My butt hurts.

I'm Back

I'm Back
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Biggity biggity back.

Whew.

Vacation with my family isn't so much a vacation as a marathon. We run from morning 'til night, trying to see and do everything. Tempers get short, eyes are rolled, and much unsubtle body language is thrown. We had a good time, though, and I love my family more now than ever. If we can still laugh together after wanting to throttle one another, we're good to go.

Ay yi yi. Back in New York. Oh, New York. I've realized what my problem is with you. This is going to sound bad, but I think the problem is where I live. I live in Brooklyn, and not in the "cool" parts. I live in a working class neighborhood.

While in Cairo, I remarked that it reminded me of certain parts of New York. Sad, isn't it, that a developing nation can bear such a striking resemblance to a supposedly developed nation? I realize now that Cairo reminds me of my neighborhood. Granted, my neighborhood is cleaner and has regular trash pickup and running water, but the atmosphere is similar: lots of people hovering above or huddled below the poverty line who believe their lives will never be any different and act accordingly.

I don't like slagging Brooklyn. I often defend it. There are parts that are beautiful, and it's much more family-oriented than Manhattan. But if "You're known by the company you keep" holds true for neighborhoods as well as friendships, it means that the spirit of where you live affects how you behave. I've felt so much despair over the past few months, and I think it is, in part, because I don't see any mobility around me. I need to. I need to be surrounded by people doing what I want to do to keep me moving forward and, hopefully, upward. I'm not blaming my lack of motivation on my neighborhood alone, but I think it has played a part.

My sister and I were at Grand Central Station yesterday, and I was amazed and excited by the energy around me. I felt compelled to jump into the stream of people and swim with them, compete with them. I saw what I wanted - a full life with a purpose, with energizing challenges, and no wondering whether I'd have to choose between bills and food - and I wanted to chase it. I haven't wanted to do anything in New York in a while, probably since I lived in Harlem.

I know what I need. I need to feel like I'm moving, even if I am, in truth, standing still. And the pace of life in Brooklyn just doesn't do it for me. Too bad my lease goes until May.

It called to me

It called to me
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Heading out to wait in line for HAIR tix. I wish the line wound down the lawn instead of down the sidewalk. Whose bright idea was that, huh?

I go to Europe in two and a half days. CRAZY.

"That's the end?" - Janet Jackson

"That's the end?" - Janet Jackson
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

HAIR has been extended until September 7th! W00t! I'm going to try the line again on Tuesday morning. :D

In other news, my daily photos are going to go on hiatus for a while. The first reason for that is that I leave in a week for a three-week vacation and I'm not bringing my computer. The second reason is that I'm in need of new inspiration, and the objects are, more often than not, leaving me cold these days. I'm too self-conscious to do a daily self portrait, so I'm hoping other inspiration will strike.

And now, I must go to Borders. And then to work. Five more days. FIVE! MORE! DAYS!

"Stop playing with your hair." - My mother

"Stop playing with your hair." - My mother
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I was supposed to rise with the sun this morning, and trip on up to Central Park to stand in line for tickets to HAIR. I expected myself to be chipper, alert, and out the door by at least 7am.

Yeah.

As you can see from the timestamp on this entry, that didn't happen. I'm still at home, still chillin'. I realized that without a line buddy, I'd have to ask someone to hold my place to go to the bathroom, to get food or water if I needed it, and I'd be sitting on concrete for SIX HOURS. Yeah, no, thanks.

If I were 18 and in love with the musical I'd probably camp out the night before and think it was fun. I'm not 18, and I don't like waiting for web pages to load on a cable internet connection. So, I'll mosey on down to the train in the next 15 minutes, go to the book store, then see what the line situation looks like. If we get tix, we get tix. If we don't, we can try the standby line. Once again, if we get tix, we get tix. If we don't, we don't. I'd love to see it, as I, once upon a time, did a show with one of the cast members, but I'm not going to stress about it.

In other news, getting yesterday's entry out of my system improved my mood. A lot. Some things just need to be said, I suppose.

Scuffed

Scuffed
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I feel like a big coward today. I feel like a big coward because I get freaked out when I try to polish my resume, or when I flip through an LSAT book, or when I think about the impending mountain of rejections, or worse, no response at all.

Reading an older post from PilgrimGirl's blog, I felt humbled that I balk at what are simple tasks compared to what she's gone (and going) through. I'm ashamed of my fear.

But I still don't make any moves. It's easier, simpler, less taxing, to sit still.

Believe me: I wish I didn't think this way. I wish I didn't agonize over every little detail and feeling and impulse. I wish I was content to wake up, go to my 9 to 5 job, come home, watch tv or read, go to bed, and do the same thing over again the next day, and the next, and the next. But this feeling that I need more than that has been going on long enough that I know it's not just something I can "get over" and "get a real job." You can chalk it up to being immature, spoiled, self-centered, or selfish, but I know those explanations don't apply here. I'm driven by the impulse to create. I am, dare I proclaim it, an artist.

Artists are branded with a lot of stereoptypes in this country. Artists are "weird, lazy, flaky people who just don't want to do an honest day's work." Artists are "immature, impotent, homos." Artists are "crazy and broke." Artists are "just avoiding the realities of life." Maybe there have been artists who fall into those categories because, in one way or another, they've been told that being an artist isn't acceptable.

Our loved ones might not say it out loud, but if someone pursuing an artistic life, one that wasn't completely financially stable, decided to go get an MBA, you can bet that their loved ones would breathe a sigh of relief. The motivation for the relief is concern for the artist's well-being, but the message still comes through: art is not a "real job."

There's no reason why an artist can't have a full-time job. A lot of artists do. A full-time job can keep one sane. But they're still an artist who happens to have a full-time job. They're chasing that something, or, rather, letting creativity flow through them. They have somewhere to turn to let it out. They're not toiling in a day job that has become their life, sticking a cap on their creative well. The job is a means to an end.

Bringing it back around to me, I understand that full-time can balance with creativity. I just can't seem to shake the fear that when I interview for these day jobs they'll see right through me. They'll see that I'm not willing to give them all of me, or even the illusion of all of me. Companies seem to be a little insulted when they sense that you're not their priority, no matter how low-level the job.

So I guess what I'm saying is, "I'm awesome. Hire me and I'll be great, as long as you don't expect more of me than the body who occupies space in your office building between the hours of 9 to 5. So gimme a job."

(Yes, I'm being silly. Somewhat.)

(I blabbed a lot today.)

Morla!

Morla!
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Dude. That movie traumatized me. I loved it.

I should be enjoying the morning outside, where it's gorgeous and sunny. The sky is full of white, puffy, marshmallow clouds. There's an occasional breeze strong enough to lift your skirt and the humidity is low. It's a perfect day for cloud-gazing on a rock in Central Park.

But I'm not outside. I'm inside, and in a few minutes I will go take a shower because, in an hour, I need to leave for work. Where I'll sit in a basement for the next five hours, drinking coffee to stay awake, freezing and going a little crazy from the florescent lights. Eight more days. Eight more days. Eight more days.

Laundry Day

Laundry Day
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Day off. Therefore, laundry.

I'm stalling, though. Sitting in the laundromat has to be one of the most boring activities in modern life. The view never changes. Laundry tumbling in washers and driers, other bored laundry patrons, tile floors, beige walls, hard plastic chairs, rickety wooden benches, daytime crap on the television, silver rolling baskets with thread wrapped around their wheels, people folding laundry on the expansive table in the center of the room, "Driers are for use only for people who wash clothes here" signs, watery flourescent light bathing everything it touches with a sickly, clinical yellow.

A recipe for hypnotism.

Mutant Eyebrow Hair

Mutant Eyebrow Hair
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Sorry about the lack of blog and photo yesterday. I had to get up early for a pointless conference call at work. It was pointless because the procedure discussed will not take place until after I leave. Gotta love it!

Yesterday morning was beautiful, though, and I was glad to be up and about in it. The air was dry, really dry, for the first time since May. It was dry enough that my skin started to itch when I got out of the shower. I thought, "Why am I itchy? Oh yeah! This is what low humidity feels like! I need lotion!" I briefly considered moving to the desert so that I could experience that sensation on a regular basis.

Today is still cool, dry, and brilliantly sunny. August, you amaze me!

Antici................pation

Antici................pation
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

My contacts came. And they came with bubble wrap. YES.

Watched Spy Game this morning/afternoon while I twisted my hair. Pretty good movie, actually. Nothing too special, but a pretty good movie. Two handsome gents in the leads will do that.

It's still sunny and warm, although not as humid as yesterday. August is turning out to be less disappointing than I thought it was going to be.

Gotta get ready for work.

ETA: My sister shall henceforth be known as Princess. Princess Poopypants.

Gifts from Paradise

Gifts from Paradise
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I'm having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad morning. The kind of morning where every object in your house seems to want to get in your way so you can trip over it or bark your shin or stub your toe. The kind of morning where you trip lightly on the rug and slosh coffee into your messenger bag. The kind of morning where you discover that you'd been calling a "Mr." a "Ms." and realize that there's no WAY you're gonna get that job now. The kind of morning where it's not hot but wildly humid so your knees and ankles decide they don't want to work properly. The kind of morning where you discover that the refrigerator door has been open a significant crack since 8:30am and everything inside is pretty warm which means the refrigerator was sucking twice the amount of electricity it normally would just to keep everything at "warm". The kind of morning where your eyes seem blurry looking through your glasses, so you put your contacts in and your eyes are still blurry because your contacts are way past their expiration date but you don't have any more pairs in the cabinet. The kind of morning where it all just sucks.

I want to go back to bed.

Coney Island

Coney Island
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

The corn dog was the best part of the day. I only had three dollars, but I had to get something from the original Nathan's. And that something had to be a corn dog. I haven't had a corn dog (corndog?) in years; probably not since the last Minnesota State Fair I attended. It was gooooood, too.

More photos from the day are on my Flickr page. Go there.

A head's up: this blog will be changing. I'm not sure how just yet, but there will be a bookmark change - that is, if you've bookmarked me. So, yeah. Keep an eye out for that. No worries: I'll still be blogging and posting photos. I just need to make some changes.

Pick-Me-Up

Pick-Me-Up
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Went to Coney Island today. Didn't stay long. Neither of us was prepared for the strength of the sun. We walked through Astroland, then wandered down the boardwalk, away from the lights and noise. I took photos. You'll see them tomorrow.

Kisses.

I Should Do Product Photography, Huh?

I Should Do Product Photography, Huh?
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I've been watching Alvin Ailey videos for the past hour, freaking out over the exquisite movement. I miss dancing.

I have a plan to write a thank you letter to one of my dance teachers in Minneapolis. I sucked in her class; absolutely sucked. But I did gain an appreciation for the movement and the difficulty of making it look effortless. I love that she pushed us, no matter how good some of the students were. I also want to thank her for not kicking me out of her class despite my persistent lateness and major suckitude. I miss that class.

It's thunderstorming. I don't think it's going to make the heat go away, though. August is my least favorite month.

I Guess It's A Snickers

I Guess It's A Snickers
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I don't remember where I was, but I was watching television. It was unusual because I don't own a television, nor do I frequent places that have televisions on and available. Nevertheless, I was somewhere, watching television.

A public service announcement came on. The donkey from Shrek started rapping (badly) about kids getting up and playing outside. Computer animated storybook forest creatures cavorted and did outdated, embarassing, "my parents are STILL doing the Macarena at weddings" dances, while children ran, in a manic fashion, around a playground. It's weird, but cute.

However, while watching, it hit me that this was a PSA to get children to go outside and play. How weird is that? I don't remember being a grade schooler and my mother and father telling me to go outside and play. (They probably did, repeatedly, when I was a teenager, but laziness is intrinsic to adolescence and cannot be countered with parental admonishment.) I remember them having to yell at me several times to come back inside and eat dinner/do homework/take a bath and go to bed. What have we come to that we have to make commercials where animated movie characters tell kids to get off their butts and go play?

My temporary roommate put it simply: "It's a symptom of the internet and video game culture." I totally get that, but it still disturbs me on a fundamental level. Physical education is relegated to once a week for an hour. We dope our children with television, video games, movies, and food because we don't want to deal with them. No wonder kids have no love for movement or the wide-open possibilities of the outdoors.

It hurts my heart. I, currently, can't go to dance class because I'm (still) recovering from a sprained ankle. I feel like I'm a little crazed. I don't get the release of shutting down my logic center, using a different part of my brain, and exhausting my body at least once every other day. It hurts me that perfectly healthy children are not taking advantage of what I would (almost) kill to do.

Wake up, people! How can we make this better?

Product Placement

Product Placement
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I'm learning through this daily photo project of mine that not every photo is going to be a masterpiece. Not every photo can be a masterpiece. In fact, most of them are going to be disasters at best and boring at worst. The people who seem like they're cranking out masterpiece after masterpiece spend a lot of time laying big, fat, turdy duds. They just don't show the good stuff until it's ready.

I've chosen to show the good and bad. All too often all we see is the good. In today's media, everyone glitters, with every hair intact and not a pimple in sight. Even "wardrobe malfunctions" are calculated for maximum press coverage. No one wants to show the messy side. No one wants to show that they're human.

Because we never see human beings in the media, we come to expect that every public face will be a perfect one. The truth is, those people have an army of stylists to shellack their hair in place, and a dermatologist standing by with a big, fat needle full of cortisone to attack any and all pimples. Being perfect takes a lot of work.

So here I am. I'm showing the work. Maybe it's not as much fun for you, the viewer, but it is educational. Watch and learn, and maybe celebrate with me when I manage to stumble onto a masterpiece.

Every Morning

Every Morning
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I'm a coffee addict. Admitted, confessed, totally come clean. I LOVE to drink coffee. I love the smell, the heat, and the action of it. I suppose it's the same for cigarette addicts: the chemicals are only a small part of the experience of smoking a cigarette. The rest of the activity is just as addictive.

I have a day off today. That means I run around doing all the things I don't do when I have to work later. For instance, today I'll be attending a workshop for actors looking for side work. Maybe they'll give me some ideas.

I also have to attend a diversity training class at my part-time job. *gag* I know it's important, but corporate diversity training classes tend to be...lame. (See: "Diversity Day" episode of The Office.) I believe this one is simply a matter of compliance with federal blah dee blahs. We sign in, watch a video, and leave. "Hooray. I am now extremely knowledgeable about workplace diversity and will never offend anyone ever again. This 30-minute video has given me the tools I need to succeed in my diversification endeavors." 

Went to a free concert in Central Park yesterday. It was good to get out of the house, even if it drizzled on us most of the time. I'm just glad we didn't get the brunt of the storm, because there sure were some yellows and reds on the radar passing just south of the city. We simply enjoyed the benefits: an afternoon high of 77 degrees. Haven't experienced that since June, or maybe even May. And it seems to be lingering today. Rockin.

Still Wrapped

Still Wrapped
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

This pretty thing was a gift from a dear, selfless friend. I miss her. She's a busy woman with a lot of responsibilities.

The heat has finally backed off a touch. We slept without the a/c last night for the first time in a week.

I need to clean.

Blah blah blah workety schmurkety.

I Love Color

I Love Color
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I am blessed that I have a job, and am not going into debt or starving and living on the street.
I am blessed that I have a job.
I am blessed that I have a job.
I am blessed that I have a job.
I am blessed that I have a job.
I am blessed that I have a job.
(If I keep typing it, do you think I'll eventually believe it?)
I am blessed that I have a job.
I am blessed that I have a job.
I am blessed that I have a job.
I am blessed that I have a job.
I am blessed that I have a job.
I am blessed that I have a job.
(I don't think it's working.)
I am blessed that I have a job.
I am blessed that I have a job.
I am blessed that I have a job.
I am blessed that I have a job.
(Now it just doesn't even make sense anymore.)

Power Bracelet

Power Bracelet
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Can you see me in the reflection over there?

I don't really want to go to work. I never really want to go to work, though, so that's not news.

I never minded getting up at the crack of dawn to go to a shoot. 7am call? Sign me up. I love being on set. I don't mind the hurry up and wait. I don't mind the sometimes tense atmosphere. I don't even mind the sometimes funky attitudes of others. I love watching everyone work together to create something kind of magical - even if it's a training film for a pharmaceutical company so filled with medical jargon that I read the teleprompter and have NO idea what I'm saying but know that I can sell it anyway.

I miss going to shoots. I also miss getting paid more than a month's day job wages for just a few hours' work. But even when I'm not getting paid, I love being on set.

Almost a year ago I shot a commercial for Cox Business Services. It was August, and we were shooting in a stripped warehouse. Because it was stripped, there was no air conditioning. Add about 75 bodies and gigantic camera lighting and you have a room temperature approaching 90 degrees. I won't lie: it was miserably hot.

But you know what? I didn't complain once. Even when I felt my consciousness retreating somewhere way in the back of my brain behind an impending faint and all I could do to stay awake was stand very still and fan myself and concentrate on not sweating, I didn't complain. I was so grateful to be exactly where I wanted to be, getting paid to do exactly what I wanted to do, that a little momentary discomfort was nothing.

So, yeah. I don't want to go to work today. I'd rather be melting in a warehouse than sitting at a desk answering phones. But I suppose this is a momentary discomfort to be able to do what I want to do.

Gluttony

Gluttony
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Another World

Another World
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Guess What? Turtle Butt!

Guess What? Turtle Butt!
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Up with the Sun

Up with the Sun
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I'm sorry.

I think you're only going to get photos from now on.

There's nothing to say about my career, and I don't feel like sharing anything else.

Sorry.

New Friend

New Friend
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

So happy to have some greenery in my house. Is it not nifty?

Eleven letters and headshots and one postcard with my face on it went in the mail on Tuesday! W00t. This is going to be an expensive venture, though. Each envelope comes in at a dollar for postage. Ugh. Maybe I should sell some clothes.

Completely unrelated information: I really want to wear lounge pants and a t-shirt to work today.

It's hot and muggy. Big surprise.

Self-Care

Self-Care
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I don't even know what to say today.

I have 12 headshots and letters ready to go in the mail today. I'm proud of that.

I'm waiting for the coffee to kick in.

I miss going to dance class. More than I'll admit on a daily basis.

I have to buy a loft bed today.

My apartment was a mess yesterday and I cleaned it up, put my clean clothes away where they belonged, and made neat piles on my desk. I'm proud of that, too.

I have a deep affection for the Brooklyn Public Library.

The Raw Shark Texts was quite boring. And then it got good. Really good. Another winner, in my opinion.

I need a sharp change in the weather. I need a change, period. I feel like I'm covered in silt, like I've drifted into a still pool, out of the main current and into one of those cloudy, weed-littered pools that line a rushing river. I've settled to the bottom and I'm covered with sediment. I need a good, swift kick from an accidental toe to send me back into the current.

Or maybe I just need some vegetables.

Self-Improvement

Self-Improvement
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I started this book a few days ago. It's a 30-day exercise in confronting the fact that, yes, we're all going to die, so let's not waste time living a life that doesn't reach its full, fully engaged potential. So far it reminds me quite a bit of The Artist's Way, but I like having something to work on. I like working on me.

Hope everyone's Fourth of July was fun! I got a surprise visit from a friend as I was leaving work, so we hung out there for a while instead of looking at fireworks with a bunch of other wet (it rained), sweaty people. And fun was had by all.

Boo Boo

Boo Boo
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Happy Independence Day Eve! Hope you have fun at your barbecues and pic-a-nics and other assorted goodies. I gotta work.

Letters have been written and printed. Now I just need to print off some resumes and the first five will be off! Baby steps.

Fountain Pen with Moleskine

Fountain Pen with Moleskine
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Wouldn't it be great if I could write all my cover letters using my fountain pen? It would make it fun instead of tedious.

Ugh. Cover letters suck. They just do. Alrighty. Just 71 more to go.

*whimper*

Monolith

Monolith
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I'm getting weirder with my photos. I like it.

In other news -

Really, American Apparel? Really? Is this something you want to do? Bring back HYPERCOLOR t-shirts? Ugh.


AND, I saw Savion Glover last night walking down Houston St. with his child and wife/girlfriend/woman friend. Nifty!

They Look Like Such Strong Hands, Don't They?

They Look Like Such Strong Hands, Don't They?
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I think this photo is going to become one of my favorites. I love it. And don't ask my how I got it. It'll ruin the magic for you.

I had written some blather about feeling such and such a way and introspection and happiness and blah blah blah and then I deleted it because I was doing exactly what I said I shouldn't be doing. At least not here.

So...uh...go look at some funny cat pictures. Yeah. Go do that. No funny here today.

New Yorker

New Yorker
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I got my New York license. W00t! It came quickly. I just applied last week and it arrived two days ago. Overall, I have to commend the NY DMV. Yeah, I had to stand in line, and fill out forms, and shuffle around like cattle in a pen, and the whole experience took an hour and a half, but overall? They moved as quickly as they could, they kept their senses of humor, they are efficient, and I thought it was pretty painless. Congrats, New York DMV: you beat the stereotype.

It's going to be a hot one today, which is why I'm staying in my skivvies as long as possible before I have to suit up to leave the house. The weekend looks stormy but Monday should be fair and pleasant.

---------

I am in the midst of reading a John Guare play titled Marco Polo Sings a Solo. I can't recall having ever experienced Mr. Guare's writing before this, and it's odd. As an actor, all I can think about is, "How would I, if I were cast, make sense of these words?" I'll admit that it's daunting. I imagine, though, if I had the time and opportunity to play with them, they - the words - would eventually make themselves make sense, and I wouldn't have to force anything on them. I can't say I'd jump at the chance to perform in this particular play, though. It's good, but not my cup of tea.

Speaking of performing, Ishy-girl, I have finished my spreadsheet for my headshot mailing. Celebrate with me, just for a moment, with a little chair dance. What does this "finishing my spreadsheet" mean, you ask? It means that I am now organized to start firing off letters and headshots to casting agencies. I am taking my baby steps. W00t, again!

I [heart] the Brooklyn Public Library

I [heart] the Brooklyn Public Library
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I woke early yesterday morning. Six am to be exact. My upstairs neighbor was dragging furniture around. At six am. Who does that?

I wasn't sleepy anymore, so I hopped out of bed and got moving. I accomplished quite a bit yesterday morning. I finished unpacking, showered, and got my butt to the Central Library to check out some more books. As you can see, I got, um, a few. I went a little nuts. But they're free! Freeeeeee! After having to buy an unexpected plane ticket, I'm a little strapped for cash. Free books make me go crazy!

I left the library and wandered through Park Slope to catch the train. It is beautiful over there, with or without the Stroller Mafia. I passed a mansion and the thought occurred to me, "I could have that. If I really, truly wanted it and made it a goal, I could have that." It was an empowering thought. Right on its heels came the thought, "Do I really want it?" I'm not so sure I do.

What do I want? I want to get out of debt and stay out. I want a cozy, comfortable home without the worry of how I'm going to pay for it. I want a career in which I get to be as creative and variegated as I am when I'm not working. I want to do it all: write, act, direct, make films, create performance art, dance, photograph, produce, organize, design clothing, paint, daydream, learn, relax. I want adventure, whimsy, romance, good food, movement and color. And I want to get paid for it. I believe I can.

Fountain Pen

Fountain Pen
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I'm a secret romantic. I think it's why I love steampunk and typewriters and especially fountain pens.

There's something so romantic about dipping a pen in ink. It's time-consuming and methodical. It forces one to think about what one writes before dashing it off on the page. There really isn't any "dashing it off" when every other word requires more ink on the tip of the pen. Every word takes on more meaning in that scenario. Maybe that's why letter-writing is an art.

You can have a picture of the fountain pen set tomorrow. After I unpack it.

Perfection

Perfection
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I have a gorgeous friend.

She's also kind and generous. She came with me to the premiere last night and, as promised, held my hand as it started so I could calm down.

So, the premiere. I chose not to think about it all day. It was obvious, though, as I rushed around getting ready, snapping at my mother, that I was most definitely thinking about it. I was so nervous and I didn't want to be nervous and I was trying not to let it show but I'm sure my mother could tell and being the patient saint that she is just quietly went about her preparations and let me be messy without yelling back and then we got to the theatre and I had some wine. Whew. I needed that.

A few trailers and short films rolled before FADE, and then it started. Cori reached across my lap and gave my hand a squeeze. My heart was thudding in my chest, shaking my rib cage.

And it was good. It was really good. I relaxed. I watched myself without self-conscious judgment. I was able to enjoy the film and marvel at what Chris had created. I remembered rolling around in the weeds and getting bitten on the butt by horseflies and waiting for the sun and Scott just about dying having to wear the gas mask and how cold the water in the river was and how glorious the whole experience had been.

And then it was over, and Chris got lots of applause, and I could breathe again. I chatted with other cast members and casual viewers. Everyone was so generous and kind with their praise. I was humbled.

So thanks, Chris, for letting me be a part of your film. It's a lovely piece, and I'm proud of you.

Flyin' Home

Flyin' Home
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I'm practice packing. I have a three-week vacation coming up at the end of August and I'm determined to only bring this suitcase and its smaller handbag. I think I can do it. I'll pack for a week, and wash what needs washing. I will pack light!

I was reading an article on the NY Times website about airlines charging for checked baggage. Honestly, I'm not that surprised, nor am I outraged. They need to cover their costs, and $15 isn't all that much. In the grand scheme of things, another $15 tacked onto a $200 or $300 ticket isn't much in the grand scheme of things.

Actually, I like the fee. It forces people to downsize, to think hard about what they really need for their trips. People will realize "Hey, 3.3 ounces really is enough to get me through two or three weeks," or "I really don't need to bring this videogame; the scenery will be enough" or "You know what? I'm not buying any little tchochkes this trip; postcards will be present enough." It's green, this downsizing.

I live in a small space, so I'm used to making brutal cuts in my lifestyle. I don't own a television or a microwave, and I'm better for it. I can't just pop a frozen meal in the microwave and then plunk down in front of the television; both less-than-healthful choices. I have to cook my meals, and if I want to see a program that isn't on the internet, too bad. I guess I'll read a book or write or dance or paint.

I feel like I'm rambling. And it's time for me to leave the house. Ciao!

D'oh!

D'oh!
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

When one must choose between groceries this week and wearing that disposable pair of contacts for a couple weeks longer than advised, or buying new contacts and trying to stuff oneself with the free meal at work to avoid buying groceries, spilled food feels like a major tragedy.

Slippahs

Slippahs
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ISHY-GIRL! I always think of you when I make the mental switch from "flip flops" to "slippers." I hope you have a fun day. Do something nice for yourself!!

I'm going to get my new drivers license today. My last one expired, oh, six months ago.

Well, actually, I applied for a new one but never received it because they won't forward driver's licenses. Darn. It's fine, though. New York lets you trade your out-of-state license for a New York one, provided it expired within the last twelve months, and you have "proof of birth" (I think that wording is hilarious: isn't your physical presence "proof of birth"?), and your social security card.

Yeah, yesterday, I was all made up and dressed and ready for my photo. Got to the DMV. Didn't have my social security card. I tried to run back home to get it, but all I got was sweaty and a long wait for an A train that didn't come for 20 minutes. 20 minutes! In the middle of a weekday! That's RIDICULOUS. (Yeah, yeah, laugh if you want. I want my train when I want it!)

And now, I really must go. I'm trying to give myself two hours to wait at the DMV before I have to go to work. I figure that's enough time. I'm probably wrong, but let's keep our fingers crossed.

Summertime

Summertime
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I was never that excited about cherries as a child. Probably because of the work involved: pulling off the stem, chewing around the pit, spitting out the pits and collecting them somewhere. I can't recall the last time I had a cherry before I became addicted to them last August.

Last August I started the Maker's Diet. The plan to get you started on a new way of eating is 40 days long, and the first two weeks take away pretty much everything remotely sugary. No bread, no potatoes, not even most beans; only lentils are allowed. As far as fruit goes, you're pretty much restricted to berries and cherries only. How fortunate that I lived through those two weeks at prime cherry time!

My snack foods were cherries and almonds, and the busy work involved in eating both of those things helped me keep my mouth occupied and free of cookies and candy.

Last Saturday as I left work late and ambled down 14th Street, a man with a produce cart was still hanging out on the corner, hoping for some late night sales. Happy circumstance: he had cherries for sale! (Now, I'm sure this man just bought some fruit and vegetables from a grocery store and was re-selling them on the street, but I don't care. New York is all about convenience, and there they were, on my way home.) Delighted with my find, I bought a pound of sweet cherries and headed home.

I sometimes wish cherries were in season all year, but that would be ludicrous. I tried some Chilean cherries in the middle of the winter. They were terrible. Cherries are meant to be enjoyed when the temperature is up. Cherries herald the beginning of summer, real summer. After a short stint in the fridge, they're cool and refreshing when the rest of the world is sticky and hot. They are busy work. They are beautiful.

Container from The Container Store

Container from The Container Store
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Oh, I had such high hopes for today's blog. I'm pooped, though. Probably going to take out my contacts and go to bed within the next ten minutes.

It was a gorgeous day. I discovered a new park by the water, reunited with a high school friend I haven't seen in 11 years, and had delicious meals for lunch and dinner.

And I'm sun-drained and pooped.

'Night.

Retro

Retro
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

Flickr's acting weird for me this morning, so if you can't see the photo, try refreshing.

The heat wave finally broke. I turned off the A/C this morning and could walk around in my apartment without feeling like my skin was going to melt away.

I have a catering gig tomorrow evening at the Central Park Zoo. That should be fun. I get to be outside and see the zoo for free - or at least a part of it - and earn some money while I'm doing it.

This gig was a good excuse for me to buy an American Apparel t-shirt. I didn't try it on in the store because I was hot and sweaty and fumbling with clothes was the last thing I wanted to do. I tried it on this morning, and dude, it's one of the most comfortable things I've ever put on my body. I want like, seven more in every color. Fortunately for my pocketbook they're $16, so I won't be getting seven more. Maybe just one. Or two.

Weather: gorgeous.

HOT

HOT
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

It's been almost unbearably hot here for the past four days. 90s. In early June. Ugh.

I hadn't put my air conditioner in the window yet because I thought I had plenty of time before it got this hot. Nope. I also thought I could ride it out and survive without the big money waster until the heat wave was over, but no. I put it in the window last night and I'm so very glad I did. I don't regret the hit my wallet is going to take because I'm not miserable anymore.

This fan is sometimes pointed at the ceiling to get the cold air to spread around the room instead of pooling at my feet when I'm sitting at the desk.

Yay presents!

Yay presents!
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

It's so hot. It's so ridiculously hot that I haven't moved from in front of my fan in two days. I have an air conditioning unit that goes in the window, but I haven't put it in the window because I wasn't expecting 90 degree weather in June. And so I suffer.

In other news, the wifi signal I was jacking into has gone AWOL. So updates may be sporadic from here on out. *sigh*

Weather: hot.

At least I don't have to go to work.

"Eat Me"

"Eat Me"
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I got to play Alice in Alice in Wonderland once, so that's totally relevant.

So, the gas is back on, but I can't get my stove to light. The pilots are lit, and I read the manual and it said that there might be air in the gas line so I held a lit match next to the burner like it said, but so far, no dice, and the match doesn't last very long.

Any ideas? I would love to eat some eggs.

Unfinished

Cahier sketch
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

But how much is anything ever truly "finished"? One just decides to stop and move on to the next project. I decided to stop sketching and move on to the next project.

Which happens to be freaking out; the next project, that is. For FADE, the film I did two years ago, is having a premiere, two years later.

What: FADE
When: Friday, June 20th, 7:00pm
Where: Suburban World Theater, Uptown, Minneapolis


I'll admit it: I'm terrified. I haven't seen the film yet, so I have no idea what my performance is like. And that terrifies me.

I'm a control freak. I really am. I'm a Type A Control Freak. I like to have my hands on the reins/dials/levers/steering wheel and I don't want anyone else touching them. I won't throw open the shutters or pull all the stops or leave the cylinders wide open unless I know it's perfectly safe to do so. (This tendency sometimes makes me a bad actor.) This is absurd, of course, because I have absolutely no control over what other people are thinking or doing and my rational mind knows this, but I still prefer to live in the illusion that I AM IN CONTROL.

This premiere? Totally outside my control. I have to sit there, in the dark, with other people watching my performance and judging it, silently or vocally. I will have to sit there and take it and be ok with it and this is terrifying.

But it's a good lesson. It's an opportunity to practice doing something that scares me. I just might need someone to hold my hand while I do it.

Waiting

Waiting
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I declined taking a shower today. Know why? Because the gas is still off and I didn't want to take a freezing cold shower. Yeah, I'm a little grody. But I doused myself with Honeysuckle body splash and kept moving.

Book recommendation for this month: by George by Wesley Stace. Charming. Reminds me of a movie whose title I can't remember right now (a coming-of-age film about a Scottish boy). It was a slow starter: wasn't sure I liked it in the first 50 pages. I'm hooked now.

Weather: cloudy and humid.

Beauty

Beauty
Originally uploaded by AdiaMichelle

I burn my candles almost every day. In reality, they don't do much to mask the smell of cigarette smoke, but I burn them anyway as a psychological defense; a placebo effect, if you will. I decide that they're helping so they're helping.

So ConEd decided to turn off the gas yesterday. They're working on something on the corner. I thought, "Dangit! I was just about to cook my greens. Boo." I settled for a peanut butter sandwich instead.

Today, the gas is still off. And an unfortunate side effect is that we have no hot water. The water heater (or boiler, whatever it is) is gas-powered. Which means that I gasped my way through the coldest - and quickest - shower I've ever taken.

Please hurry and finish, ConEd. Most of my food is only consumable after it's been cooked, and I'm running out of peanut butter and yogurt.


The weather's warm and clear.

And I have to go to work.