I have been in a big girl, corporate, 8-5 job for about four and a half months. I have also been in a brand new city, cultivating a brand new life and getting hit in the face with reality outside of the educational world for about nine months. There are some things I've learned that I sorely wish someone would have told me, maybe to not to stop it from happening, but if only to be prepared for it. This is what I have learned.
--There is no such thing as passing with a 70% in the real world. All of those years in school where the idea is to try your best and aim for the A but if you make a B it's still great and as long as you pass, you're doing well? Crap. Complete and utter crap. If you make mistakes in the real world, you cost your company money, you cost customers/clients money, you get fined if you get audited. There is a world of chaos just waiting to devour you if you do not do one hundred percent CORRECT work, one hundred percent of the time.
--Waking up early, enjoying an hour of silence and peace while the world is still sleeping is GLORIOUS. Anyone who knows me knows I abhor waking up early. I am a Godzilla/Sleeping-Beauty-Dragon-Queen mutant if I am woken up even ten minutes before I have to be. But there are days when, as an adult with sleeping issues, I find myself lying awake at 5 in the morning, wondering why I am up at the ever dreaded hour before dawn. Some of these days, I drag my butt out of bed, make some coffee, and head out to my patio. I get a smidgen of a moment of silence in my day to do what I want. Nothing has gone disastrous yet and I get this little tingle behind my face (is that a smile in the morning??) And the world is my oyster, for one shallow little hour in the morning. Sometimes I read a book, the Bible, the news; sometimes I sing to myself. But that can make the difference between a regular old day and a treasure I finally have the time and energy to discover.
--Change purses often. Or backpacks or sports bags. (Or, God forbid, that man-purse satchel you'd die if anyone knew you had.) Not just for fashion or function, but because it makes you decide what is really important to have with you. Sure it's nice to keep lotion, a nail file, deodorant and body spray in case you forget, a pocket knife, a granola bar, extra make up in case you go somewhere, a comb, flats in case your shoes hurt, a small animal in case you get lonely and a brick in case you run into that jerk from work on the street. But really, you don't NEED these things. You will survive the day without your creature comforts. Life will go on. I present to you the man chant: Phone, keys, wallet, and watch. (Most don't even really need the watch anymore, but go with it anyway.) Chant to yourself before you leave the house: Phone, keys, wallet, and watch. You'll be prepared to handle anything disastrous. Say it, everybody!! Phone, keys, wallet, and watch. I learned this from some guy friend of mine (possibly an ex? Who remembers?) forever ago and it keeps things in perspective. Not only is this all you really need, but it's all that really matters. *Bonus!* You can also do a preemptive strike on the mountain of receipts, business cards, bobby pins, spare change, lint from last year, the gum you'll never actually chew, and the book you forgot you were reading halfway through. Imagine the possibilities!
Which brings me to my last bit of advice:
--Keep things in perspective. I'm currently reading a book that was authored by a man with locked in syndrome. (The Diving Bell and the Butterfly by Jean-Dominique Bauby. Buy it, you really won't be sorry). I say authored because the man has full use of his mind but his body is completely motionless. Except for his left eye. Maybe you have a few aches and pains and maybe your life isn't everything you wanted it to be. But life's a journey, not a destination. Take it as it comes and never once believe that you're not enough. Money will always come when it's needed and food will always happen. Quit worrying about all the crap you have no control over. At the end of the day, everything works out the way it's supposed to and if it's not meant to be, it won't. If it is, it will.
It's all about balance. I guess that's really the theme here. Balance the urgency with which you perform a task with your desire to do it well and correctly. Balance your busy time with your quiet time. Balance your expectations of yourself and others with reality. I will be the first to admit I suck at remembering this quite frequently but the moments that I do, I give myself a silent, happy little high five.
And that's enough :)
Tuesday, October 29, 2013
Saturday, October 5, 2013
Definitely NOT a Christian.
Hello all! Long time no see!
It's been six months since my last post in April and so much has changed. I finally quit my job at the restaurant; it just got to be too much. My soul was slowly dying under the strain of trying to please people and work with people who would never be pleased, no matter how hard I tried. I also moved away from my beautiful apartment and the awful/delusional roommate to a much bigger apartment with an amazing roommate-- in New Jersey.
Jersey was definitely not my first choice but I have a basement for storage, a back yard with a small patio and enough room for Daisy to run just a little bit. I have a huge room with a normal sized closet and a roommate who is fast becoming a dear friend of mine. Despite the changes each of us is experiencing, we have made a home for ourselves and our animals. My new roommate has two hilarious cats (with personalities rivaling the size of Texas) and a very special, lamb-like jack russell who, bless his little heart, never gives up trying to win a game of tug of war with an opponent five times his weight.
I began my new 40-hour a week, big girl office job in the beginning of June. It was very difficult and very stressful in the beginning because I was not prepared to be thrown into a job I had no idea how to do. I made a lot of mistakes, discovered I had a major nutritional imbalance (which highly affected the quality of work I was doing), took a crash course in how business is done in the Big Apple, but ultimately discovered that I have indeed made it in the city. I am fully supporting myself and my dog. My rent is paid every month. I eat multiple times a day (way more than I was eating in college). I even manage to go shopping without having to resort to Ramen for a week. Life is settling down and it's lovely.
The downside to all of this is that I had to put my music away for a few months. I was in survival mode and couldn't handle something extra. I even considered for some time that I no longer wanted to be a singer, that I would rather move home to Texas, get a similar job, find a husband and have a family. But that's not what I've been called to do. God gave me this gift and whether I like it or not, whether it's a normal life or not, I have to honor it and utilize it. I never thought it was a coincidence that the word they use in the biblical parable translates to "talent" in English. That's one of those mysterious but ultimately fascinating things God does, just because he can.
This brings me to why I felt compelled to write a blog today: Christianity in the dating world.
I, as a mid-twenties single woman, have been dating for some time. Sometimes seriously, sometimes just for fun. I am also trying to make friends in this weirdo city where there are millions of people but no one seems to be capable ofspeaking to one another on a crowded bus. In meeting the amount of new people here that I have, I have noticed this very odd thing. People as a general rule don't claim Christianity here. (That is to say, there are some brilliantly brave individuals who shine and fully declare themselves, the world be damned. I salute you, friends.) The majority of people I have met consider themselves atheistic or agnostic. They are definitely NOT Christians. But upon my asking questions (because I am a Christian) I have noticed some really strange trends:
1. They really do believe in God, they just don't practice "religion." By this I mean, maybe they "talk" to their version of God, but they don't pray... What? Isn't that all prayer is? Speaking to an unseen God? Meditating on what the "Universe" has to tell you? Finding answers from somewhere other than a book, a shrink, or a mentor? There is this stigma around "prayer" that you have to be kneeling or fold your hands, or maybe it has to have a certain format. "Dear God/Heavenly Father, thank you for this day. [insert personalized request here] Bless our troops, keep them safe/Bless this food, that it may nourish our bodies. [prayer for the sick/homeless/less fortunate] In Christ's name, amen." But what if your prayer is simply, "I need help today. I can't do it alone." I find it fascinating that people who are "definitely not Christian" still ask for help from whatever unseen "God" they talk to.
2. They really do believe in God (maybe even admit to praying, *gasp*) but they refuse to go to church. "The church is corrupt" "I just don't have time" "I can't stand the hypocrisy" When did church become a punishment? When did church become an only Sunday morning deal? Why do we not believe the scripture that says, "When any two are gathered in my name, I am there." ?? It's so sad to me that going to church means you have to wear a dress or a suit, carry a Bible, act like your life is perfect, and then go home like nothing has changed.
3. They believe in God (or a higher power. Sure, ok, if saying higher power makes you feel better...) but they are jaded. "God" has never helped them. "God" doesn't do anything. "God" lets bad things happen. "God" ignores the hungry. I'm sorry, but if you see hungry/homeless people and they are alive, they are finding food. It may not be the gourmet, pre-packaged, microwaveable crap you eat; but they are in fact being fed (quite frequently they are overweight, which truly baffles me). Humans die after no food or water for three days. They may not shower with hot water every morning like you, but maybe they like being dirty. Maybe that helps them get more handouts from people who feel badly that they are "not eating." God feeds wild animals. God provides shelter. It might not be a penthouse quite, but no one ever died from getting a little wet in the rain. If you have clothes on your back, a bed to sleep in, and someone who cares whether you are happy, you are richly blessed. But why then is it crazy to call that God? Why not give credit where credit is due?
The theme here: They really do believe in God. But they are definitely NOT a Christian. ...WHAT?
The funny thing is, I have not spoken to one person who considers himself an "atheist" who does not at least believe in a "higher power." It's laughable really. You say you don't like the church for hypocrisy, yet you build your personal identity around not believing; but you still believe in something. What? In what caricatured cartoon would this make sense??? What happened to confidence? Standing up for who you are? Believe in something or don't. Be hot or cold, don't be lukewarm, wishy washy, namby pamby. No one likes a pansy.
It's so sad that we live in a world where believing in something is so bad.
So this is my rant for today. I hope I'm not the only one who's noticed this. But maybe one person who reads this blog will come out of their religious closet and say, "I am a Christian."
It's been six months since my last post in April and so much has changed. I finally quit my job at the restaurant; it just got to be too much. My soul was slowly dying under the strain of trying to please people and work with people who would never be pleased, no matter how hard I tried. I also moved away from my beautiful apartment and the awful/delusional roommate to a much bigger apartment with an amazing roommate-- in New Jersey.
Jersey was definitely not my first choice but I have a basement for storage, a back yard with a small patio and enough room for Daisy to run just a little bit. I have a huge room with a normal sized closet and a roommate who is fast becoming a dear friend of mine. Despite the changes each of us is experiencing, we have made a home for ourselves and our animals. My new roommate has two hilarious cats (with personalities rivaling the size of Texas) and a very special, lamb-like jack russell who, bless his little heart, never gives up trying to win a game of tug of war with an opponent five times his weight.
I began my new 40-hour a week, big girl office job in the beginning of June. It was very difficult and very stressful in the beginning because I was not prepared to be thrown into a job I had no idea how to do. I made a lot of mistakes, discovered I had a major nutritional imbalance (which highly affected the quality of work I was doing), took a crash course in how business is done in the Big Apple, but ultimately discovered that I have indeed made it in the city. I am fully supporting myself and my dog. My rent is paid every month. I eat multiple times a day (way more than I was eating in college). I even manage to go shopping without having to resort to Ramen for a week. Life is settling down and it's lovely.
The downside to all of this is that I had to put my music away for a few months. I was in survival mode and couldn't handle something extra. I even considered for some time that I no longer wanted to be a singer, that I would rather move home to Texas, get a similar job, find a husband and have a family. But that's not what I've been called to do. God gave me this gift and whether I like it or not, whether it's a normal life or not, I have to honor it and utilize it. I never thought it was a coincidence that the word they use in the biblical parable translates to "talent" in English. That's one of those mysterious but ultimately fascinating things God does, just because he can.
This brings me to why I felt compelled to write a blog today: Christianity in the dating world.
I, as a mid-twenties single woman, have been dating for some time. Sometimes seriously, sometimes just for fun. I am also trying to make friends in this weirdo city where there are millions of people but no one seems to be capable ofspeaking to one another on a crowded bus. In meeting the amount of new people here that I have, I have noticed this very odd thing. People as a general rule don't claim Christianity here. (That is to say, there are some brilliantly brave individuals who shine and fully declare themselves, the world be damned. I salute you, friends.) The majority of people I have met consider themselves atheistic or agnostic. They are definitely NOT Christians. But upon my asking questions (because I am a Christian) I have noticed some really strange trends:
1. They really do believe in God, they just don't practice "religion." By this I mean, maybe they "talk" to their version of God, but they don't pray... What? Isn't that all prayer is? Speaking to an unseen God? Meditating on what the "Universe" has to tell you? Finding answers from somewhere other than a book, a shrink, or a mentor? There is this stigma around "prayer" that you have to be kneeling or fold your hands, or maybe it has to have a certain format. "Dear God/Heavenly Father, thank you for this day. [insert personalized request here] Bless our troops, keep them safe/Bless this food, that it may nourish our bodies. [prayer for the sick/homeless/less fortunate] In Christ's name, amen." But what if your prayer is simply, "I need help today. I can't do it alone." I find it fascinating that people who are "definitely not Christian" still ask for help from whatever unseen "God" they talk to.
2. They really do believe in God (maybe even admit to praying, *gasp*) but they refuse to go to church. "The church is corrupt" "I just don't have time" "I can't stand the hypocrisy" When did church become a punishment? When did church become an only Sunday morning deal? Why do we not believe the scripture that says, "When any two are gathered in my name, I am there." ?? It's so sad to me that going to church means you have to wear a dress or a suit, carry a Bible, act like your life is perfect, and then go home like nothing has changed.
3. They believe in God (or a higher power. Sure, ok, if saying higher power makes you feel better...) but they are jaded. "God" has never helped them. "God" doesn't do anything. "God" lets bad things happen. "God" ignores the hungry. I'm sorry, but if you see hungry/homeless people and they are alive, they are finding food. It may not be the gourmet, pre-packaged, microwaveable crap you eat; but they are in fact being fed (quite frequently they are overweight, which truly baffles me). Humans die after no food or water for three days. They may not shower with hot water every morning like you, but maybe they like being dirty. Maybe that helps them get more handouts from people who feel badly that they are "not eating." God feeds wild animals. God provides shelter. It might not be a penthouse quite, but no one ever died from getting a little wet in the rain. If you have clothes on your back, a bed to sleep in, and someone who cares whether you are happy, you are richly blessed. But why then is it crazy to call that God? Why not give credit where credit is due?
The theme here: They really do believe in God. But they are definitely NOT a Christian. ...WHAT?
The funny thing is, I have not spoken to one person who considers himself an "atheist" who does not at least believe in a "higher power." It's laughable really. You say you don't like the church for hypocrisy, yet you build your personal identity around not believing; but you still believe in something. What? In what caricatured cartoon would this make sense??? What happened to confidence? Standing up for who you are? Believe in something or don't. Be hot or cold, don't be lukewarm, wishy washy, namby pamby. No one likes a pansy.
It's so sad that we live in a world where believing in something is so bad.
So this is my rant for today. I hope I'm not the only one who's noticed this. But maybe one person who reads this blog will come out of their religious closet and say, "I am a Christian."
Monday, April 15, 2013
The Met and the Job
I'm so sorry it has been so long since my last post! Two jobs, a career, a dog, and a boyfriend is a lot to juggle time wise!
The server position requires a lot of hours and is only just now starting to pay out as promised. I made about $200 this weekend in take home cash and if the next few weekends are similar, I should be able to save enough through the summer to move into the city in August!
The biggest problem with the server job is I am the ONLY female server in an establishment full of men. Not just men, but chauvenistic men. I am just as strong and just as capable as any of these guys I work with, but they don't let me help with the heavy lifting. They give me the grunt jobs to do and I often end up standing around doing nothing, getting yelled at for leaning, because no one will give me a job to do. I get stuck on napkin duty or roll-up detail. But when we are setting up for brunch and the biggest task is arranging the tables, one extra hand could mean the difference between leaving at 1:00am and 1:30am. It's silly. I can help. I really can. If I can't do something, I will speak up.
Which brings me to a new observation about culture up here. There women are weak. As a whole (not speaking of any individuals), women who grew up here are demanding with high expectations, but they rarely do the work themselves. A good self-respecting Texan girl is going to jump in with both hands and do what needs to be done. She is equal to the men around her, doing the same work with maybe a little more grace and class. But here? The women chew gum and ask the men to do their heavy lifting. So now the men just expect to do all the work and have learned to just tell a woman to sit and look pretty while they work. It's maddening I tell you!!! I want to work! I want to earn my paycheck! I want to feel like I do good work at my place of employment and that they have no complaint about me. It is very strange to be expected to sit and do nothing while everyone around me does all the work. There is a stark difference between chauvinism and chivalry. I don't know that men here know the difference....
Another thing about being the only woman: Men don't chat. They don't. They do their work, they complain, they argue, but they don't chat. I need to be able to laugh with someone about ridiculous customers. I need to feel empathy from someone who would understand my plight. These guys I work with are children. They treat me like I'm second rate so I go and talk to the ONE other female in the restaurant, the hostess. I consistently get yelled at for talking to her. But sometimes I truly don't want to talk about the huge knockers at table 143 or how stupid someone was when they get drunk. I don't want to hear any more about how one server is better than me or how a perfect wine bottle opening goes or the reasoning behind a certain policy. I want to talk about the sale I found at Sears or someone else's life for a change....
So that's the restaurant.
In my music world--
I auditioned for my first ever competition. We had to submit four songs for consideration with the application and recommendation letters, and then choose one to start with, knowing that they could ask for a second. I sang The Jewel Song from Faust which is a high energy, very fun and happy song with lots of opportunity for acting and plenty of play room. I may have gotten a little excited and made a few mistakes from sheer energy..... But overall I think I did fine. I didn't do as well as I could have, but I did ok. The Top Prize is $12,500. And I could really use $12,500 right about now haha! The other prizes step down from there. The winners must participate in the gala in October in order to receive their money. So I sincerely hope I win because I would love to sing at this gala and get my name out there in a positive way. Everyone keep your fingers crossed that they like me and want to give me an award to put on my resume!!
Sidenote: I saw Mignon today, who is sick, but needed some help with errands. We sat and had tea for a bit at which point she informed me she wanted me to sing for Lenore Rosenberg. Oh just another name you think? No, no. She is the casting director for the small parts and understudies AT THE MET OPERA!! Holy cow, I could sing for this woman!! It would be a dream come true of course if I could make this happen.
I also scored free tickets to see Faust last week! WOW!!! What an amazing show!! First of all, these tickets were stellar. We were on the orchestra level about ten or fifteen rows back just off the stage right aisle. Amazing. We could practically smell the actors, we were so close!! I took my very good friend, Rachel, and we had a gay old time. I just knew, I would be on that stage one day. It is so fun to be there. The red carpet, all the red velvet, the gold leafed ceiling, the beautiful wall sconces. And I'll tell you, the chandeliers alone make going to the Met worth the expense. So incredibly beautiful. The singers in Faust were amazing of course and I found the staging and set really quite fascinating. I love the Met. It is just so gorgeous.
So I think that's really it. My Italian man was here this past week and we had a few rough patches but managed to talk our way through them. Next stop is Milan for me! I can't wait! Daisy is doing great. We have found an off leash dog park in our neighborhood with some interesting, but very sweet characters. She loves running around with the other big dogs. I may have to start thinking about getting her a buddy soon... Maybe when I get a little more settled, no?
Anyway, that's my update. So sorry it took so long but thanks for reading!!
The server position requires a lot of hours and is only just now starting to pay out as promised. I made about $200 this weekend in take home cash and if the next few weekends are similar, I should be able to save enough through the summer to move into the city in August!
The biggest problem with the server job is I am the ONLY female server in an establishment full of men. Not just men, but chauvenistic men. I am just as strong and just as capable as any of these guys I work with, but they don't let me help with the heavy lifting. They give me the grunt jobs to do and I often end up standing around doing nothing, getting yelled at for leaning, because no one will give me a job to do. I get stuck on napkin duty or roll-up detail. But when we are setting up for brunch and the biggest task is arranging the tables, one extra hand could mean the difference between leaving at 1:00am and 1:30am. It's silly. I can help. I really can. If I can't do something, I will speak up.
Which brings me to a new observation about culture up here. There women are weak. As a whole (not speaking of any individuals), women who grew up here are demanding with high expectations, but they rarely do the work themselves. A good self-respecting Texan girl is going to jump in with both hands and do what needs to be done. She is equal to the men around her, doing the same work with maybe a little more grace and class. But here? The women chew gum and ask the men to do their heavy lifting. So now the men just expect to do all the work and have learned to just tell a woman to sit and look pretty while they work. It's maddening I tell you!!! I want to work! I want to earn my paycheck! I want to feel like I do good work at my place of employment and that they have no complaint about me. It is very strange to be expected to sit and do nothing while everyone around me does all the work. There is a stark difference between chauvinism and chivalry. I don't know that men here know the difference....
Another thing about being the only woman: Men don't chat. They don't. They do their work, they complain, they argue, but they don't chat. I need to be able to laugh with someone about ridiculous customers. I need to feel empathy from someone who would understand my plight. These guys I work with are children. They treat me like I'm second rate so I go and talk to the ONE other female in the restaurant, the hostess. I consistently get yelled at for talking to her. But sometimes I truly don't want to talk about the huge knockers at table 143 or how stupid someone was when they get drunk. I don't want to hear any more about how one server is better than me or how a perfect wine bottle opening goes or the reasoning behind a certain policy. I want to talk about the sale I found at Sears or someone else's life for a change....
So that's the restaurant.
In my music world--
I auditioned for my first ever competition. We had to submit four songs for consideration with the application and recommendation letters, and then choose one to start with, knowing that they could ask for a second. I sang The Jewel Song from Faust which is a high energy, very fun and happy song with lots of opportunity for acting and plenty of play room. I may have gotten a little excited and made a few mistakes from sheer energy..... But overall I think I did fine. I didn't do as well as I could have, but I did ok. The Top Prize is $12,500. And I could really use $12,500 right about now haha! The other prizes step down from there. The winners must participate in the gala in October in order to receive their money. So I sincerely hope I win because I would love to sing at this gala and get my name out there in a positive way. Everyone keep your fingers crossed that they like me and want to give me an award to put on my resume!!
Sidenote: I saw Mignon today, who is sick, but needed some help with errands. We sat and had tea for a bit at which point she informed me she wanted me to sing for Lenore Rosenberg. Oh just another name you think? No, no. She is the casting director for the small parts and understudies AT THE MET OPERA!! Holy cow, I could sing for this woman!! It would be a dream come true of course if I could make this happen.
I also scored free tickets to see Faust last week! WOW!!! What an amazing show!! First of all, these tickets were stellar. We were on the orchestra level about ten or fifteen rows back just off the stage right aisle. Amazing. We could practically smell the actors, we were so close!! I took my very good friend, Rachel, and we had a gay old time. I just knew, I would be on that stage one day. It is so fun to be there. The red carpet, all the red velvet, the gold leafed ceiling, the beautiful wall sconces. And I'll tell you, the chandeliers alone make going to the Met worth the expense. So incredibly beautiful. The singers in Faust were amazing of course and I found the staging and set really quite fascinating. I love the Met. It is just so gorgeous.
So I think that's really it. My Italian man was here this past week and we had a few rough patches but managed to talk our way through them. Next stop is Milan for me! I can't wait! Daisy is doing great. We have found an off leash dog park in our neighborhood with some interesting, but very sweet characters. She loves running around with the other big dogs. I may have to start thinking about getting her a buddy soon... Maybe when I get a little more settled, no?
Anyway, that's my update. So sorry it took so long but thanks for reading!!
Friday, March 29, 2013
A Tale of Two Milestones
I did it y'all! I passed my test at the restaurant and am now a server at one of the nicest restaurants in Staten Island. After Hurricane Sandy, a lot of places closed down and this will be the prime candidate for a gorgeous night out. I wish you guys could see this restaurant. It is just south of the Verrazano Bridge, right on the boardwalk of the south beach in S.I. During the day, you can see out over the water clear to Europe. And at night, the bridge lights up and the lights bounce off of the water. It is just beautiful.
I've been told it is a part-time gig but some of the servers and managers seem to think it is a full time commitment. We shall see. I am just happy to have income now. I will get a check on Monday for all the training I've been doing and hopefully will get my first night of tips on Sunday night! I'm not feeling as excited as I should be though. The other waiters are trying to psych me out about how busy it can get and how crazy and they don't have confidence that I can handle it. It scares me, honestly. I'm not even sure I can. Every time I study a lot and go in confident, they rip me apart with things I don't know. They make me second guess myself at every step and I don't like functioning in that environment. It is not positive and not conducive to a confident waiter... I dunno. I'm not sure it will work out but hey it's a job for now. It will pay the bills.
Second thing: I applied for the Licia Albanese Puccini Competition in two weeks. I sent my resume and application in today. Lordy was that an adventure! Tears were cried, offense was taken, anxiety was held at bay, but forgiveness was ultimately given. I finally had all of the documents I needed today and I found a very cheap copy/print place on the upper west side that charged me only $5.37 to print an 8x10 photo, two color resumes, a color song list, two recommendation letters, the actual application, and that price included the three envelopes I needed to make this application happen. But they didn't sell stamps. So then I had to go to the bank and lo and behold! They sell stamps at the ATM!! (Crazy, right??) So I bought stamps and needed to find a postal drop box. I walked out of the bank and there just happened to be a postman unloading his truck. I asked him where the nearest drop box was, he holds out his hand and says, "Here!" So he took my envelope for me. Of course, this entire adventure made me an hour late for my server test. So that was cool. But the application was sent.
Mignon believes I will win this competition. I have no such high hopes for my very first competition but I will do my best!! I am excited to have a performance to look forward to! She has been so good for me. My voice is sounding better than it ever had and it finally sounds like my one true voice rather than several voices I may be imitating or affecting. It's wonderful!
It's funny though, how that works. When someone has faith in you and roots for you, you can do incredible things. But when someone doubts your ability and continues to tell you you can't or won't do well, you start to believe it. Why does that work? I have always been confident in myself and my abilities and worth. What makes working at the South Fin Grill any different than singing for a teacher who doesn't care for my learning style? Or vocal color? Or work ethic? Why is it that when there is that little seed of doubt, all talent and potential go out the window. Fear and Doubt are so crippling. They are. They make the bearer feel unworthy and inadequate.
So since I'm a God-fearin', Heaven-prayin' kind of girl, would you all pray for me in this? Pray for the environment at the restaurant and that my spirits will be lifted, rather than beaten down. Pray that I do well in this competition and make a good impression on those hearing me for the first time. (It is my first debut as a young artist!) Just keep me on your mind, on your list of people to pray for. I need some extra support. The homesickness is at an all-time high and it is not looking like I will be able to go home until the Fall, if I can even afford it by then.
I know this post is not the most positive. But things are changing and things are happening. That's what I came here for, right? Change. And destiny. I firmly believe God brought me here to this place for a purpose. He gave me the Women of Christ at the church to sing with and to become friends with. He gave me a job that will pay the bills. He brought a man into my life who makes me feel beautiful and amazing and like I deserve everything in the world, though I'm not ready for a full relationship yet (which is smart on God's part since he happens to live in Europe for the moment!). So with that, I leave you with these thoughts:
Everything happens for a reason. Destiny always gets its own way. And if you step back and listen to what God and His universe are telling you, you may end up in a life you never dreamed for yourself, with blessings you never imagined. Open your heart and listen.
I've been told it is a part-time gig but some of the servers and managers seem to think it is a full time commitment. We shall see. I am just happy to have income now. I will get a check on Monday for all the training I've been doing and hopefully will get my first night of tips on Sunday night! I'm not feeling as excited as I should be though. The other waiters are trying to psych me out about how busy it can get and how crazy and they don't have confidence that I can handle it. It scares me, honestly. I'm not even sure I can. Every time I study a lot and go in confident, they rip me apart with things I don't know. They make me second guess myself at every step and I don't like functioning in that environment. It is not positive and not conducive to a confident waiter... I dunno. I'm not sure it will work out but hey it's a job for now. It will pay the bills.
Second thing: I applied for the Licia Albanese Puccini Competition in two weeks. I sent my resume and application in today. Lordy was that an adventure! Tears were cried, offense was taken, anxiety was held at bay, but forgiveness was ultimately given. I finally had all of the documents I needed today and I found a very cheap copy/print place on the upper west side that charged me only $5.37 to print an 8x10 photo, two color resumes, a color song list, two recommendation letters, the actual application, and that price included the three envelopes I needed to make this application happen. But they didn't sell stamps. So then I had to go to the bank and lo and behold! They sell stamps at the ATM!! (Crazy, right??) So I bought stamps and needed to find a postal drop box. I walked out of the bank and there just happened to be a postman unloading his truck. I asked him where the nearest drop box was, he holds out his hand and says, "Here!" So he took my envelope for me. Of course, this entire adventure made me an hour late for my server test. So that was cool. But the application was sent.
Mignon believes I will win this competition. I have no such high hopes for my very first competition but I will do my best!! I am excited to have a performance to look forward to! She has been so good for me. My voice is sounding better than it ever had and it finally sounds like my one true voice rather than several voices I may be imitating or affecting. It's wonderful!
It's funny though, how that works. When someone has faith in you and roots for you, you can do incredible things. But when someone doubts your ability and continues to tell you you can't or won't do well, you start to believe it. Why does that work? I have always been confident in myself and my abilities and worth. What makes working at the South Fin Grill any different than singing for a teacher who doesn't care for my learning style? Or vocal color? Or work ethic? Why is it that when there is that little seed of doubt, all talent and potential go out the window. Fear and Doubt are so crippling. They are. They make the bearer feel unworthy and inadequate.
So since I'm a God-fearin', Heaven-prayin' kind of girl, would you all pray for me in this? Pray for the environment at the restaurant and that my spirits will be lifted, rather than beaten down. Pray that I do well in this competition and make a good impression on those hearing me for the first time. (It is my first debut as a young artist!) Just keep me on your mind, on your list of people to pray for. I need some extra support. The homesickness is at an all-time high and it is not looking like I will be able to go home until the Fall, if I can even afford it by then.
I know this post is not the most positive. But things are changing and things are happening. That's what I came here for, right? Change. And destiny. I firmly believe God brought me here to this place for a purpose. He gave me the Women of Christ at the church to sing with and to become friends with. He gave me a job that will pay the bills. He brought a man into my life who makes me feel beautiful and amazing and like I deserve everything in the world, though I'm not ready for a full relationship yet (which is smart on God's part since he happens to live in Europe for the moment!). So with that, I leave you with these thoughts:
Everything happens for a reason. Destiny always gets its own way. And if you step back and listen to what God and His universe are telling you, you may end up in a life you never dreamed for yourself, with blessings you never imagined. Open your heart and listen.
Monday, March 25, 2013
The Price I Pay
Has anyone else ever hated a job they were grateful to get? I've started a new job at a higher-end restaurant than I have ever worked at, and it's a very frustrating process. I have to know the menu inside and out, including the wine and drink menu. I have to take my test on Wednesday. I'm not sure yet if I'm ready. They still ask a lot of questions I have to think about a little bit before I can answer. But the worst part is the training. The guy they have me training with is nice and very good at his own job but he is not a very good trainer. For example, yesterday I arrived at 4pm on time and he gave me side work to do. Then around 5:30 he comes over and tells me I'm taking tables all by myself and not to screw it up. He said I'd be fine, I knew the stuff and blah blah. But I freaked out. I was not mentally prepared to take a table yet completely alone. Then once my table was finished, I stood around waiting to be told what to do. In general, he teaches me one thing, does a completely different thing, and the other trainer has to come back and reteach me all over again. Another server had me polish and stock almost three hundred glasses. Then realized that they had to break down the tables at the end of the night and now there was no room for the glasses already out. They expect me to know things that are not on the menu. The menu they gave me is a customer menu, not a server's menu. It doesn't have all the allergies listed, it doesn't have every ingredient listed. It doesn't talk about the flavors or ideas behind the dish. I have been training for a week now and I am not prepared. They keep telling me the money is worth it but they pool their tips and get $80 a piece at the end of the night. Not going to pay my rent. All of this to say, I have no idea what I'm doing at my new job or even if it's going to work out. But I need the money so desperately, I can't afford not to see it through...
I have been living on pb&j sandwiches and pasta for weeks. I have to scrounge for quarters for the bus. Daisy eats boiled chicken breast and green beans when I can't afford dog food. Every now and then I buy myself a can of Coca Cola and a Dove dark chocolate bar as a treat. And then I kick myself for a week for spending money on so many calories and sugar, with no nutrition in sight. But it sure is delicious....
And then I realize how much time I spend on my commute. To my office job, I spend six hours a week. To the restaurant, I spend four. Nevermind the hour and a half in one direction it takes me to get to my lesson and the hour it takes me to get anywhere in the city for any other reason. That's at least thirteen hours a week I spend on commute. For comparison: at university, I spent roughly four hours a week on commute. In Austin, maybe six. Of course I had a car then and don't have to pay for gas now. But I do have to pay $2.50 per train ride and buying the monthly just isn't worth it unless I ride a train or bus at least twice per day. I don't go out enough for that.
I know that I am living my dream. I know that I am lucky to be here. And if it wasn't hard it wouldn't be worth it. I know all the earworms out there. But it is hard. And it is frustrating. And I don't necessarily have a direction. That's part of why I haven't been writing as much. I'm just not sure what I'm doing and I'm even less sure of what to tell you I'm doing! So bear with me while I sort my life out. It's snowing again here. I am beginning to get tired of being wet everytime I walk in a building here. But I guess that is a small price to pay to be in my dream city right?
I have been living on pb&j sandwiches and pasta for weeks. I have to scrounge for quarters for the bus. Daisy eats boiled chicken breast and green beans when I can't afford dog food. Every now and then I buy myself a can of Coca Cola and a Dove dark chocolate bar as a treat. And then I kick myself for a week for spending money on so many calories and sugar, with no nutrition in sight. But it sure is delicious....
And then I realize how much time I spend on my commute. To my office job, I spend six hours a week. To the restaurant, I spend four. Nevermind the hour and a half in one direction it takes me to get to my lesson and the hour it takes me to get anywhere in the city for any other reason. That's at least thirteen hours a week I spend on commute. For comparison: at university, I spent roughly four hours a week on commute. In Austin, maybe six. Of course I had a car then and don't have to pay for gas now. But I do have to pay $2.50 per train ride and buying the monthly just isn't worth it unless I ride a train or bus at least twice per day. I don't go out enough for that.
I know that I am living my dream. I know that I am lucky to be here. And if it wasn't hard it wouldn't be worth it. I know all the earworms out there. But it is hard. And it is frustrating. And I don't necessarily have a direction. That's part of why I haven't been writing as much. I'm just not sure what I'm doing and I'm even less sure of what to tell you I'm doing! So bear with me while I sort my life out. It's snowing again here. I am beginning to get tired of being wet everytime I walk in a building here. But I guess that is a small price to pay to be in my dream city right?
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Blessings and News!!
Good news!! I got the server position I wanted! It's at a restaurant on Staten Island and should pay very well. It's a high end and very busy restaurant. And as an added bonus, I have received a little bit of a break in my rent. Lucky me! I can't really divulge details but suffice it to say, I am paying only about 2/3s of what I was paying before! God is so good.
Even better news! I found an amazing church today. You know how I kept mentioning hearing church bells and how they just made me feel warm and cozy and happy? Well, today I went to that church. The service itself was extremely different than what I grew up with. More conservative in some ways, more liberal in others. It even had some completely new practices the lady next to me was kind enough to help me understand. The pastor was great. The sermon he gave was inspiring in that it had a great lesson, but it also inspired me to ask my own questions, spurring on my own Bible study this week. They asked if there were any new visitors, but I was shy and didn't say anything. At this point, an elderly lady in a bright green top turned around and pointed at me. She knew somehow I was brand new. I told her no (I didn't want to stand up in front of the whole congregation) but she found me after and asked my name. I told her Erin and she goes, "Oh a good Irish name! Are you Irish then?" And I said parts of my family were, yes. Her name was Eileen. She had a bit of an accent herself and informed me that her parents were Irish so she is American by Irish descent. She then practically ordered me to go downstairs to the fellowship hall so they could feed me and said she would meet me down there. So I exited and shook the pastor's hand. He thanked me for coming and all but shoved me down the stairs toward the fellowship hall. Not being one for turning down free food, I went.
I stood a bit awkwardly by myself until a lady named Pam came over and introduced herself. She found out I was new and I was a goner. She introduced to everyone and told them I was new and everyone was just as warm as could be!! She dragged me over and pushed coffee in my hand, then took me back and seated me right next to her at her table, all the while asking where I'm from and how I like it here, how long I'd been here, etc. and introducing me to more people inbetween. On my other side sat a lady named Soraya. The conversation flowed like we were the oldest of friends and we had a very talktive Egyptian man sitting with us who provided a very interesting element to the conversation. They told me where all the best markets were and the best parks. Sorayah has a dog and said she'd be more than willing to have doggy playdates with Daisy. Pam invited me to her bootcamp classes on T/Th evenings since I haven't found a workout routine yet and to the Women of Christ music ministry, who just happened to be meeting just after lunch.
Now Women of Christ a women's choir that performs for the church every fourth Sunday and gets invited to other churches as well. They meet every Sunday after the fellowship for rehearsal and ministry. They go and sing and pray for one another and each lady brings a scripture to share with the others for the week. It is very cool. They started to sing and I noticed their soprano section was having some trouble with the high notes. When they stopped, one lady was saying she just couldn't get up there for the day (in all fairness, they were missing about half their members). I, high notes being my specialty, offered to do it. The song was very simple and so I joined them. It felt so good to sing as a part of a group again.
If you knew me at University, you'd know I dreaded choir. I wanted to be a solo singer. But there is something about being in an ensemble working toward a common goal that is very satisfying to a musician. I finally felt at peace. The ladies were so sweet and said how much they liked my voice; they even invite me to sing with them next Sunday!!
I have never felt so welcome in my life. They accepted me into their circle, no questions asked. They were so spiritual, so genuine, and it was so uplifting to meet women I could really relate to. I felt at peace in a way I didn't know I had missed so much. God definitely has something planned for me here, I just wish I knew what it was. For now, my apartment is amazing, this church is exactly what I needed (and only two minutes walk from my front door), and I finally have a second job that will pay the missing half of my living expenses. I am so blessed.
Even better news! I found an amazing church today. You know how I kept mentioning hearing church bells and how they just made me feel warm and cozy and happy? Well, today I went to that church. The service itself was extremely different than what I grew up with. More conservative in some ways, more liberal in others. It even had some completely new practices the lady next to me was kind enough to help me understand. The pastor was great. The sermon he gave was inspiring in that it had a great lesson, but it also inspired me to ask my own questions, spurring on my own Bible study this week. They asked if there were any new visitors, but I was shy and didn't say anything. At this point, an elderly lady in a bright green top turned around and pointed at me. She knew somehow I was brand new. I told her no (I didn't want to stand up in front of the whole congregation) but she found me after and asked my name. I told her Erin and she goes, "Oh a good Irish name! Are you Irish then?" And I said parts of my family were, yes. Her name was Eileen. She had a bit of an accent herself and informed me that her parents were Irish so she is American by Irish descent. She then practically ordered me to go downstairs to the fellowship hall so they could feed me and said she would meet me down there. So I exited and shook the pastor's hand. He thanked me for coming and all but shoved me down the stairs toward the fellowship hall. Not being one for turning down free food, I went.
I stood a bit awkwardly by myself until a lady named Pam came over and introduced herself. She found out I was new and I was a goner. She introduced to everyone and told them I was new and everyone was just as warm as could be!! She dragged me over and pushed coffee in my hand, then took me back and seated me right next to her at her table, all the while asking where I'm from and how I like it here, how long I'd been here, etc. and introducing me to more people inbetween. On my other side sat a lady named Soraya. The conversation flowed like we were the oldest of friends and we had a very talktive Egyptian man sitting with us who provided a very interesting element to the conversation. They told me where all the best markets were and the best parks. Sorayah has a dog and said she'd be more than willing to have doggy playdates with Daisy. Pam invited me to her bootcamp classes on T/Th evenings since I haven't found a workout routine yet and to the Women of Christ music ministry, who just happened to be meeting just after lunch.
Now Women of Christ a women's choir that performs for the church every fourth Sunday and gets invited to other churches as well. They meet every Sunday after the fellowship for rehearsal and ministry. They go and sing and pray for one another and each lady brings a scripture to share with the others for the week. It is very cool. They started to sing and I noticed their soprano section was having some trouble with the high notes. When they stopped, one lady was saying she just couldn't get up there for the day (in all fairness, they were missing about half their members). I, high notes being my specialty, offered to do it. The song was very simple and so I joined them. It felt so good to sing as a part of a group again.
If you knew me at University, you'd know I dreaded choir. I wanted to be a solo singer. But there is something about being in an ensemble working toward a common goal that is very satisfying to a musician. I finally felt at peace. The ladies were so sweet and said how much they liked my voice; they even invite me to sing with them next Sunday!!
I have never felt so welcome in my life. They accepted me into their circle, no questions asked. They were so spiritual, so genuine, and it was so uplifting to meet women I could really relate to. I felt at peace in a way I didn't know I had missed so much. God definitely has something planned for me here, I just wish I knew what it was. For now, my apartment is amazing, this church is exactly what I needed (and only two minutes walk from my front door), and I finally have a second job that will pay the missing half of my living expenses. I am so blessed.
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Update and Satire (Only mildly exaggerated)
Hey friends! So sorry I haven't been posting. I have a million excuses and no real reasons but I will try to catch you up without boring you to tears!
On the music front, I have been sick and have only within the past few days been feeling better. Apparently it happens to a lot of non-newyorkers who haven't been exposed to subway travel or come into contact with quite so many people before. That being said, my vocal cords are fine. I have a bit of lingering chest congestion, and coughing makes trying to sing an excruciating process. I want to sing and vocally I feel fine; but if I take too deep a breath I start coughing or simply can't get enough breath to move the air. I have my lesson with Mignon on Saturday after two weeks of not seeing her. I will ask her then what she recommends and hopefully I will not be prevented from using my lesson time well!
-=-
On the job front, I simply have no news. It is beyond me why in a city full of people concerned about their time, so much of mine has been wasted. I have gone on interviews and slogged through the ad sites trying to find a decent person who will give me work to no avail. My work at the computer maintenance company is great. I love the office and my boss, the girls I work with are smart and nice people. But they can only afford to give me so many hours. Lucky for me (though not for them), half the office has been dealing with a cold, the flu, and pinkeye so I have been able to jump in and help where I can. I am learning quickly but there is just no substitute for experience. Story of my life, right? But my boss is proud of me and the work I do. My computer skills are apparently greater than your average worker's so I do bring some knowledge to my position. But I still need another source of income. Several less than appealing opportunities have presented themselves lately, but there are some that I just can't bring myself to do. I guess I ended up with a moral compass after all.
-=-
On a somewhat related note, living within a certain budget has not always been easy for me. I have always managed to find a way to make ends meet, and still have Starbucks money to spare. This time, however, I am not so lucky. The real world is cold and unforgiving. Rent is an ever-looming obligation and I have never thought about the cost of food more in my life. Since rent itself is double my current income, I live on peanut butter and juice. I splurge on the occasional craving (and by splurge I mean spend more than five dollars on one sweet dessert or strawberries-- my personal weakness) but for the most part I have been good. But I am definitely learning how to be a starving artist.
-=-
Now about the subways. It is extraordinary how much fun I have watching people on the subways. I am a total snoop! I just love to peep at people's iphones and blackberries, reading their facebook feeds, seeing what music they listen to, trying to write a mental dossier on their lives just by observing their manner and phone content. It is so much fun! Today, in fact, I caught a super macho man in his workout gear with a basketball in his sloppy, unzipped gym bag listening to Beyonce. Priceless. So, here are a few things I have observed and kept a list of in now particular order:
--There was a man who appeared to have a home, though I assumed not much of one. His clothes were mostly clean at least but out of fashion, unmatched, and extremely well-worn (strange for NYC). That being said, this man was wearing tennis shoes-- without socks. How do I know this? Because he took them off. His legs were ashier than Pompeii and his feet looked like they were home to more fungi than a mushroom farm. And then he scratched them. Not just once, maybe twice and put the shoe back on. No... I wish. He scratched and rubbed his bare feet for the better part of three stops on the express train, leaving a dirty pile of skin flakes on the floor and the most abominable odor to waft across the measly five feet of subway air, already atrocious in quality on its own, to where I was trapped. I had to change cars. Apparently, I wasn't the only one. We had a good awkward laugh.
--You will never experience wrath like that of New Yorkers waiting for a train that finally comes and blows right through the station without so much as a warning of arrival, followed by ten minutes of outrage while we waited for the next train.
--There is a guy who rides the 4 express in Manhattan, who in his phone, has someone saved as "Babymama." No lie. She had recently sent him a three paragraph long text and he replied with one word. Wonder what happened there....
--The subway at rush hour is ruthless. Especially in the evening because everyone is tired and mad at their boss (or so I assume). One lady, in a crowded subway car no less, was perturbed that my bag was touching her. So she turns around with all the New York attitude she could muster and says, "Miss, do you MIND?" Of course I mind. You're on a crowded subway. If you don't want to be touched or squashed by people you don't know, take a cab.
--If you don't speak English properly and that's why you don't understand the rules, you have no right to have attitude and throw a princess fit. Ferry or not.
--New Yorkers are bold. I'm not talking liquid courage bold, I'm talking people (men in particular) frequently stop to say, "Miss, you are so beautiful." "Ma'am, you're hot." "Damn, you lookin' fine witchyo big brown eyes." In the morning on my way to work. On my lunch break. On my way home from work. On my way to dinner. Walking my dog. Waiting for the ferry. On the ferry. And in many of these places, I'm stuck. I can't very well jump off the ferry or out of a train in motion. So I play nice and put on my best southern accent and tell them how much I 'ppreciate the compliment. And then I act like I'm deaf. I act like I'm deaf until I'm blue in the face.... Or something like that.
--Actresses look hungry. And I don't mean starving, although half of them look that way too. Actresses want to act so desperately. You can pick them out of a crowd. No offense to my actress friends, I love you all dearly. But there is something about actresses in New York that have this crazy hungry look in their eye like they will do anything to make a name for themselves. Just like DJs will hand anyone a card who will listen to them introduce themselves. And certain public transportation users will risk their own hearing for the sake of looking cool or pretending they're not on public transportation. Moms look tired. Businessmen look empty. Musicians look like they are torn between doubt and hope.
And new yorkers as a whole, are lethal with umbrellas.
-=-
That's all I've got for now. I hope you are smiling and telling the ones you love you love them. At the end of the day, sometimes a brat just needs a hug or a distant friend a phone call.
On the music front, I have been sick and have only within the past few days been feeling better. Apparently it happens to a lot of non-newyorkers who haven't been exposed to subway travel or come into contact with quite so many people before. That being said, my vocal cords are fine. I have a bit of lingering chest congestion, and coughing makes trying to sing an excruciating process. I want to sing and vocally I feel fine; but if I take too deep a breath I start coughing or simply can't get enough breath to move the air. I have my lesson with Mignon on Saturday after two weeks of not seeing her. I will ask her then what she recommends and hopefully I will not be prevented from using my lesson time well!
-=-
On the job front, I simply have no news. It is beyond me why in a city full of people concerned about their time, so much of mine has been wasted. I have gone on interviews and slogged through the ad sites trying to find a decent person who will give me work to no avail. My work at the computer maintenance company is great. I love the office and my boss, the girls I work with are smart and nice people. But they can only afford to give me so many hours. Lucky for me (though not for them), half the office has been dealing with a cold, the flu, and pinkeye so I have been able to jump in and help where I can. I am learning quickly but there is just no substitute for experience. Story of my life, right? But my boss is proud of me and the work I do. My computer skills are apparently greater than your average worker's so I do bring some knowledge to my position. But I still need another source of income. Several less than appealing opportunities have presented themselves lately, but there are some that I just can't bring myself to do. I guess I ended up with a moral compass after all.
-=-
On a somewhat related note, living within a certain budget has not always been easy for me. I have always managed to find a way to make ends meet, and still have Starbucks money to spare. This time, however, I am not so lucky. The real world is cold and unforgiving. Rent is an ever-looming obligation and I have never thought about the cost of food more in my life. Since rent itself is double my current income, I live on peanut butter and juice. I splurge on the occasional craving (and by splurge I mean spend more than five dollars on one sweet dessert or strawberries-- my personal weakness) but for the most part I have been good. But I am definitely learning how to be a starving artist.
-=-
Now about the subways. It is extraordinary how much fun I have watching people on the subways. I am a total snoop! I just love to peep at people's iphones and blackberries, reading their facebook feeds, seeing what music they listen to, trying to write a mental dossier on their lives just by observing their manner and phone content. It is so much fun! Today, in fact, I caught a super macho man in his workout gear with a basketball in his sloppy, unzipped gym bag listening to Beyonce. Priceless. So, here are a few things I have observed and kept a list of in now particular order:
--There was a man who appeared to have a home, though I assumed not much of one. His clothes were mostly clean at least but out of fashion, unmatched, and extremely well-worn (strange for NYC). That being said, this man was wearing tennis shoes-- without socks. How do I know this? Because he took them off. His legs were ashier than Pompeii and his feet looked like they were home to more fungi than a mushroom farm. And then he scratched them. Not just once, maybe twice and put the shoe back on. No... I wish. He scratched and rubbed his bare feet for the better part of three stops on the express train, leaving a dirty pile of skin flakes on the floor and the most abominable odor to waft across the measly five feet of subway air, already atrocious in quality on its own, to where I was trapped. I had to change cars. Apparently, I wasn't the only one. We had a good awkward laugh.
--You will never experience wrath like that of New Yorkers waiting for a train that finally comes and blows right through the station without so much as a warning of arrival, followed by ten minutes of outrage while we waited for the next train.
--There is a guy who rides the 4 express in Manhattan, who in his phone, has someone saved as "Babymama." No lie. She had recently sent him a three paragraph long text and he replied with one word. Wonder what happened there....
--The subway at rush hour is ruthless. Especially in the evening because everyone is tired and mad at their boss (or so I assume). One lady, in a crowded subway car no less, was perturbed that my bag was touching her. So she turns around with all the New York attitude she could muster and says, "Miss, do you MIND?" Of course I mind. You're on a crowded subway. If you don't want to be touched or squashed by people you don't know, take a cab.
--If you don't speak English properly and that's why you don't understand the rules, you have no right to have attitude and throw a princess fit. Ferry or not.
--New Yorkers are bold. I'm not talking liquid courage bold, I'm talking people (men in particular) frequently stop to say, "Miss, you are so beautiful." "Ma'am, you're hot." "Damn, you lookin' fine witchyo big brown eyes." In the morning on my way to work. On my lunch break. On my way home from work. On my way to dinner. Walking my dog. Waiting for the ferry. On the ferry. And in many of these places, I'm stuck. I can't very well jump off the ferry or out of a train in motion. So I play nice and put on my best southern accent and tell them how much I 'ppreciate the compliment. And then I act like I'm deaf. I act like I'm deaf until I'm blue in the face.... Or something like that.
--Actresses look hungry. And I don't mean starving, although half of them look that way too. Actresses want to act so desperately. You can pick them out of a crowd. No offense to my actress friends, I love you all dearly. But there is something about actresses in New York that have this crazy hungry look in their eye like they will do anything to make a name for themselves. Just like DJs will hand anyone a card who will listen to them introduce themselves. And certain public transportation users will risk their own hearing for the sake of looking cool or pretending they're not on public transportation. Moms look tired. Businessmen look empty. Musicians look like they are torn between doubt and hope.
And new yorkers as a whole, are lethal with umbrellas.
-=-
That's all I've got for now. I hope you are smiling and telling the ones you love you love them. At the end of the day, sometimes a brat just needs a hug or a distant friend a phone call.
Monday, February 25, 2013
You Should Never Doubt
You should never doubt. Doubt is this evil little seedling that plants itself in a moment of thought: that moment when reason and desire battle over who will win and who will submit. The battle has to take place in order to make a commitment to a decision. But beware that scavenger that preys on questions and kills courage before it can realize its potential.
Today I doubted myself. Really, for the last week or so I've been doubting myself. At home in Texas, where I always knew people, I never had a problem finding a job when I most needed it. I never had a problem finding someone to sit down with me at an interview or recommend me to someone known to be hiring. I had no idea how lucky I was. The job search here in New York has been the worst and most prolonged nightmare of my life. Frankly, from someone who frequently has violent nightmares involving blood and the death of close friends and family, that's saying something. Not only do I have limited financial resources to survive on, I only have a handful of contacts in the NYC metropolitan area. How dare I, with the hubris of a twenty-something in possession of a bright and shiny, new diploma, move across the country expecting someone to hand me a job offer on a platter saying, "Thank you, we have been waiting for a candidate just like you to graduate so.... blahdee blah blah" ya get it. That is obviously not what happened.
But really, a month here and I only have a part-time job that will barely cover food and transportation. I have been meaning to go to an agency to get a job but I kept thinking I had nothing to offer, that I just needed to start small and work my way up. But why not get a real job? With benefits and a 401k? (By the way, will someone explain to me what exactly that is? There really should be a course in college called Application and Job Offer Lingo 1301) But I doubted myself. So today, after a weekend of hellish sickness and self-loathing, I dragged myself out of bed, put on some make-up and faked doing something with my hair, threw on my favorite jeans and moccasins, and went to the agency. After one very short hour, I was sitting in a cubicle with an agent discussing my resume. He had ideas right off the top of his head and we got right to business putting in applications. I put out six applications, came back with two interviews, and all with the added recommendation of this guy Mike. I was thrilled.
Here's the catch. IF I get one of these jobs, I may not begin working for another week or two. IF I begin working that soon, I probably won't get paid until a week or two after that start date. So I went home discouraged and bewildered. How on earth did I find myself in this ridiculous city knowing practically no one with no job prospect in sight?
Here was my second doubt. I doubted the man for whom there are so many better words than boyfriend. The Italian man I met a few weeks ago? We've kept in contact and we've talked all day every day. He is one of the kindest and most intelligent people I have ever met. I could go on. But I doubted our relationship. I began to doubt if this was smart, if he was someone I really wanted to tie myself to, if it was worth feeling alone to be with someone I knew for a week? I began to doubt his intentions. I began to doubt my intentions. Not knowing how bad I really was, the poor guy signed onto Skype anyway.
The moment I saw him, I was a bawling wad of tears and mumbling. And can I just tell you, God put this man in my life. He did everything from offer comfort and support to offering monetary help to just trying to make me laugh by being his crazy self. I refused the help of course, but it was so nice knowing someone was on my side. I honestly couldn't tell you what we talked about for the next hour and a half because conversation is just so easy. We laughed and I finished crying and he reassured me that things happen in their own time. I will find a job when I'm meant to find one and I can't find one any sooner.
Given the six-hour time difference, Mr. Italiano (as he has been lovingly deemed by my family) had to go to sleep since he had work in the morning. So I went about my business, made dinner played with Daisy, then finally resigned myself to the fact that I needed to do laundry. Since we have to do laundry with quarters here, it's always a hunt to find enough quarters for both the wash and the dry (I need twelve, in case you were curious). With the worries of not having enough money to eat after I pay rent looming over my head, I begin to dig for quarters. I have ten quarters from my purse, so I decide to look in coat pockets. First pocket: empty. Second pocket: three bobby pins and a hair tie. Next coat, first pocket: three pennies. Second pocket: SCORE! SIX WHOLE dollars and the remaining two quarters. I just about cried. That is lunch tomorrow. Excited, I get my laundry together and head downstairs. As my mother taught me to do, I diligently check all the pockets of the clothes I am washing. Lo and behold? SCORE!! Ten dollar bill. Right there in my jeans pocket the whole time.
This was my third doubt: my God. I didn't trust him to take care of me which is why I cried, which is why I let my monkey chattering brain get to me. Sure it was just my absent-mindedness that gave me that sixteen dollars, not God, per se. But, since God obviously did not give me good budgeting skills, he gave me absent-mindedness so that I would accidentally provide for myself when I most need it.
Moral of the story? You don't have time for doubt. Doubt is crippling. Doubt is what makes a bad day worse. Second guess yourself, by all means. Make sure a decision is worth it. But when it comes down to it, don't let doubt take over. Fate has a funny way of getting what it wants whether you like it or not. Matthew 6:26 has never rung more true. Look it up if you don't know it. Don't doubt yourself. Don't doubt your relationships. And most importantly, don't doubt your God. If you don't believe in God, this is not the place to convince you. So don't doubt whatever belief it is you hold at the core of your being. It created you. It will take care of you. Let it be. And don't sweat the small stuff. It's small for a reason.
Today I doubted myself. Really, for the last week or so I've been doubting myself. At home in Texas, where I always knew people, I never had a problem finding a job when I most needed it. I never had a problem finding someone to sit down with me at an interview or recommend me to someone known to be hiring. I had no idea how lucky I was. The job search here in New York has been the worst and most prolonged nightmare of my life. Frankly, from someone who frequently has violent nightmares involving blood and the death of close friends and family, that's saying something. Not only do I have limited financial resources to survive on, I only have a handful of contacts in the NYC metropolitan area. How dare I, with the hubris of a twenty-something in possession of a bright and shiny, new diploma, move across the country expecting someone to hand me a job offer on a platter saying, "Thank you, we have been waiting for a candidate just like you to graduate so.... blahdee blah blah" ya get it. That is obviously not what happened.
But really, a month here and I only have a part-time job that will barely cover food and transportation. I have been meaning to go to an agency to get a job but I kept thinking I had nothing to offer, that I just needed to start small and work my way up. But why not get a real job? With benefits and a 401k? (By the way, will someone explain to me what exactly that is? There really should be a course in college called Application and Job Offer Lingo 1301) But I doubted myself. So today, after a weekend of hellish sickness and self-loathing, I dragged myself out of bed, put on some make-up and faked doing something with my hair, threw on my favorite jeans and moccasins, and went to the agency. After one very short hour, I was sitting in a cubicle with an agent discussing my resume. He had ideas right off the top of his head and we got right to business putting in applications. I put out six applications, came back with two interviews, and all with the added recommendation of this guy Mike. I was thrilled.
Here's the catch. IF I get one of these jobs, I may not begin working for another week or two. IF I begin working that soon, I probably won't get paid until a week or two after that start date. So I went home discouraged and bewildered. How on earth did I find myself in this ridiculous city knowing practically no one with no job prospect in sight?
Here was my second doubt. I doubted the man for whom there are so many better words than boyfriend. The Italian man I met a few weeks ago? We've kept in contact and we've talked all day every day. He is one of the kindest and most intelligent people I have ever met. I could go on. But I doubted our relationship. I began to doubt if this was smart, if he was someone I really wanted to tie myself to, if it was worth feeling alone to be with someone I knew for a week? I began to doubt his intentions. I began to doubt my intentions. Not knowing how bad I really was, the poor guy signed onto Skype anyway.
The moment I saw him, I was a bawling wad of tears and mumbling. And can I just tell you, God put this man in my life. He did everything from offer comfort and support to offering monetary help to just trying to make me laugh by being his crazy self. I refused the help of course, but it was so nice knowing someone was on my side. I honestly couldn't tell you what we talked about for the next hour and a half because conversation is just so easy. We laughed and I finished crying and he reassured me that things happen in their own time. I will find a job when I'm meant to find one and I can't find one any sooner.
Given the six-hour time difference, Mr. Italiano (as he has been lovingly deemed by my family) had to go to sleep since he had work in the morning. So I went about my business, made dinner played with Daisy, then finally resigned myself to the fact that I needed to do laundry. Since we have to do laundry with quarters here, it's always a hunt to find enough quarters for both the wash and the dry (I need twelve, in case you were curious). With the worries of not having enough money to eat after I pay rent looming over my head, I begin to dig for quarters. I have ten quarters from my purse, so I decide to look in coat pockets. First pocket: empty. Second pocket: three bobby pins and a hair tie. Next coat, first pocket: three pennies. Second pocket: SCORE! SIX WHOLE dollars and the remaining two quarters. I just about cried. That is lunch tomorrow. Excited, I get my laundry together and head downstairs. As my mother taught me to do, I diligently check all the pockets of the clothes I am washing. Lo and behold? SCORE!! Ten dollar bill. Right there in my jeans pocket the whole time.
This was my third doubt: my God. I didn't trust him to take care of me which is why I cried, which is why I let my monkey chattering brain get to me. Sure it was just my absent-mindedness that gave me that sixteen dollars, not God, per se. But, since God obviously did not give me good budgeting skills, he gave me absent-mindedness so that I would accidentally provide for myself when I most need it.
Moral of the story? You don't have time for doubt. Doubt is crippling. Doubt is what makes a bad day worse. Second guess yourself, by all means. Make sure a decision is worth it. But when it comes down to it, don't let doubt take over. Fate has a funny way of getting what it wants whether you like it or not. Matthew 6:26 has never rung more true. Look it up if you don't know it. Don't doubt yourself. Don't doubt your relationships. And most importantly, don't doubt your God. If you don't believe in God, this is not the place to convince you. So don't doubt whatever belief it is you hold at the core of your being. It created you. It will take care of you. Let it be. And don't sweat the small stuff. It's small for a reason.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
The Ferry, The Rat, and The Boiler
Today, I took Daisy to the dog park in Battery Park City. To get there, I had to bundle me up (I've been sick but more about that later), bundle Daisy up, pack a bag with a bottle of water, dog poo baggies, etc., and-- the dreaded muzzle. Now our whole experience with the muzzle thus far had been one little day of experimentation where we went for a walk and I died laughing because Daisy was so darn pitiful. She would go up to any and everyone hoping someone would take pity and remove the dreaded muzzle. No such luck, but E for Effort!! So I took the muzzle in the bag, intending to try and get away with not putting it on her. We get to the ferry with about five minutes to boarding and the bomb labradors have a wild fit of rage at the new comer, barking and growling and lunging at one very terrified Daisy. Then the guard tells me we have to board on the lower level with the strollers, invalids, and bikes. So we find the stairs, walk around and find the lower entrance to the ferry. The guards out front make the usual comments (What a pretty dog! She is so big! etc.) in addition to informing me that she would require the muzzle. As I dig in the bag for the muzzle, they make small talk (How old is she? What breed is she?) and one funny guy informs me that he thinks they made a new rule-- owners need to have matching muzzles. I told him I didn't have one and begged for mercy. He said he'd give me a pass just for today. So, muzzle on and laughing, Daisy and I board the ferry.
Daisy does not like the ferry. It is loud and full of strange people and smells and no traction. She is quivering and whining and breathing faster than a mouse's heartbeat. I finally take her outside and she calms down a bit when she can see the water. She looks through the funny little portholes (Is that the right word for them?), watches the seagulls, and continues to whine but at least she is panting less. The guard told me if she was friendly I could take the muzzle off once I was actually on the ferry. Daisy has never seemed more relieved than the moment that dreaded muzzle slid off her snout. So then I discovered that as long as I don't try to sit down, she will be calm. As long as she is walking, she is fine. But the moment Mama wants a rest, Daisy has a panick attack. Ok. I can walk circles around a boat for thirty minutes. Sure. Bright side: She is becoming much more adept at meeting new people and not being afraid.
The dog park was fine, there was room for her to run but only one big dog for her to play with (in addition to half a dozen smaller dogs that frightened Daisy into hiding behind my legs.) Then the ferry ride back, much easier than the ferry ride over. I knew what to expect, but again, I couldn't sit down for long. I met a nice couple that pet her and loved on her, asked me all kinds of questions and suggested a few other dog parks to try. I tell you what, my dog is a trooper. From flying halfway across the country to learning how to live in Staten Island, to learning to get along with new people and go with whatever I throw at her, my dog is a trooper.
Oh and the same funny guard on the way back asked where my matching muzzle was. I kindly reminded him of the pass he gave me today. He then offered to buy me one for Christmas. I refrained from reminding him that Christmas is not for another ten months. I just laughed and Daisy and I headed for home.
-=-
I saw my first subway rat the other day. This thing was enormous!!! Its body had to be ten inches long and its tail a good foot. It was bigger than most purse dogs in Manhattan. The thing was disgusting. And braver than any rodent I've ever witnessed. This rat was just chillin' on the platform searching for food, not minding the throngs of people in the least.
It was funny to watch the reactions. The women were scared. The men didn't notice. The tourists took pictures. The natives just took him in stride, veering imperceptibly if at all around this gigantic mutated subway rat. I have never seen anything like it. Although, surprisingly enough, no one screamed. Not one screamer in the whole blasted subway. I admit, I was a bit disappointed.
-=-
My other newest experience is of being sick in a New York apartment building. We don't have central air or heat. We have window units and a boiler. It's nice not having to pay for heat and water and all, but really, the boiler has one temperature-- boiling. This is no exaggeration. I can walk around my apartment in a camisole and the shortest shorts I own and be sweating like an Olympian when it's negative-something degrees outside. The only way to turn down the heat? Open the windows. So it's become a skill of mine to adjust the window to just how much air I need in the house. The problem is, it's almost always raining, especially at night. So there is dry heat from radiators and hot pipes running through the different rooms and then there is cold, damp air coming through the cracks in the windows. Not so terrible when one is perfectly healthy. Throw a fever in the mix and you've got more temperatures in one room than emotions in six months worth of PMS.
Not only do I believe that having the window open at night is what caused a phlegm colony in my lungs in the first place, but it is impossible to keep them closed and stay at a reasonable level of hydration. I try desperately to drink enough water to combat the dehydration process but short of becoming a camel, I see no end. Heaven forbid it ever warms up outside because Lord help us if the outside temp is forty-five and they don't turn the heat off until it reaches fifty!
-=-
No word on the job front. I got the one little part-time job and it is stellar!! The people are so nice and it is good honest work. I don't mind it in the least. But I need more than twelve hours per week. I am going to a temp agency tomorrow just to see. Even if it is temp, it is better than nothing.
Thanks, y'all, for reading and I made some adjustments to the comments section so it should be easier. Let me know what you think!!
Daisy does not like the ferry. It is loud and full of strange people and smells and no traction. She is quivering and whining and breathing faster than a mouse's heartbeat. I finally take her outside and she calms down a bit when she can see the water. She looks through the funny little portholes (Is that the right word for them?), watches the seagulls, and continues to whine but at least she is panting less. The guard told me if she was friendly I could take the muzzle off once I was actually on the ferry. Daisy has never seemed more relieved than the moment that dreaded muzzle slid off her snout. So then I discovered that as long as I don't try to sit down, she will be calm. As long as she is walking, she is fine. But the moment Mama wants a rest, Daisy has a panick attack. Ok. I can walk circles around a boat for thirty minutes. Sure. Bright side: She is becoming much more adept at meeting new people and not being afraid.
The dog park was fine, there was room for her to run but only one big dog for her to play with (in addition to half a dozen smaller dogs that frightened Daisy into hiding behind my legs.) Then the ferry ride back, much easier than the ferry ride over. I knew what to expect, but again, I couldn't sit down for long. I met a nice couple that pet her and loved on her, asked me all kinds of questions and suggested a few other dog parks to try. I tell you what, my dog is a trooper. From flying halfway across the country to learning how to live in Staten Island, to learning to get along with new people and go with whatever I throw at her, my dog is a trooper.
Oh and the same funny guard on the way back asked where my matching muzzle was. I kindly reminded him of the pass he gave me today. He then offered to buy me one for Christmas. I refrained from reminding him that Christmas is not for another ten months. I just laughed and Daisy and I headed for home.
-=-
I saw my first subway rat the other day. This thing was enormous!!! Its body had to be ten inches long and its tail a good foot. It was bigger than most purse dogs in Manhattan. The thing was disgusting. And braver than any rodent I've ever witnessed. This rat was just chillin' on the platform searching for food, not minding the throngs of people in the least.
It was funny to watch the reactions. The women were scared. The men didn't notice. The tourists took pictures. The natives just took him in stride, veering imperceptibly if at all around this gigantic mutated subway rat. I have never seen anything like it. Although, surprisingly enough, no one screamed. Not one screamer in the whole blasted subway. I admit, I was a bit disappointed.
-=-
My other newest experience is of being sick in a New York apartment building. We don't have central air or heat. We have window units and a boiler. It's nice not having to pay for heat and water and all, but really, the boiler has one temperature-- boiling. This is no exaggeration. I can walk around my apartment in a camisole and the shortest shorts I own and be sweating like an Olympian when it's negative-something degrees outside. The only way to turn down the heat? Open the windows. So it's become a skill of mine to adjust the window to just how much air I need in the house. The problem is, it's almost always raining, especially at night. So there is dry heat from radiators and hot pipes running through the different rooms and then there is cold, damp air coming through the cracks in the windows. Not so terrible when one is perfectly healthy. Throw a fever in the mix and you've got more temperatures in one room than emotions in six months worth of PMS.
Not only do I believe that having the window open at night is what caused a phlegm colony in my lungs in the first place, but it is impossible to keep them closed and stay at a reasonable level of hydration. I try desperately to drink enough water to combat the dehydration process but short of becoming a camel, I see no end. Heaven forbid it ever warms up outside because Lord help us if the outside temp is forty-five and they don't turn the heat off until it reaches fifty!
-=-
No word on the job front. I got the one little part-time job and it is stellar!! The people are so nice and it is good honest work. I don't mind it in the least. But I need more than twelve hours per week. I am going to a temp agency tomorrow just to see. Even if it is temp, it is better than nothing.
Thanks, y'all, for reading and I made some adjustments to the comments section so it should be easier. Let me know what you think!!
Sunday, February 17, 2013
The Labradors' Secret and the Lost Borough
I finally figured out the secret to the labradors!! I went to pet one yesterday and I asked the man if they were training. He declined and told me they were bomb dogs. They use labradors because they don't scare the ferry-goers. Funny. And now we know!
I had two lessons with my teacher, Mignon, this week. One Friday, one Saturday. She charged me for neither but let me go to the store and get groceries, play with her dog and help with making lunch as payment. She has also offered me the use of her studio at the school after she is done for the day so that I can practice without disturbing neighbors and so that I will have a piano. She is just so nice and really takes care of me. I am finally in a vocal home!
Mignon doesn't settle for mediocre. She fixes everything as many times as needed until I can do it right each time. She also tells me all the time how pretty my voice is and I'm starting to believe it too. I am still struggling with jaw problems, but it is more from misplacement of vowels and my own listening than from any real issue. She is preparing me for competitions for this summer. My first application isn't due until March 15th by which time we will see if I am ready. She thinks I can be but that maybe I don't have the right rep. She wants to reign in my voice for a bit, sing some smaller things, and really work on my middle and lower octaves to get them to match my top. She lets me sing high notes, even encourages it. And she says that one day, La Traviata will be a perfect role for me!! La Traviata is my dream role so yayyy!!!!!!! I am so happy I have made this move. She has been everything I have expected and more!!
I start my new nanny job tomorrow. It is a trial basis since it is a bit of a commute and I haven't actually met the family yet. I have however spoken with the mother on the phone and she seems very nice and very understanding. This week is a bit funny, but eventually, I will nanny Tues/Thurs and work in the office Mon/Wed. That being said, even without extra babysitting hours, I should make enough to pay rent and have food to eat. If I can get a church job, I can then pay Mignon and the coaches and pianists with no trouble. Life is actually happening here in NYC! This is the dream!
I still speak with my Italian man every day. I like him more and more. He is smart and down to earth, even through the language barrier. We talk about everything. Politics, life here versus life there, music, religion, food, vacations, dreams, work. He asks about my day and actually listens!! He laughs at me and loves to make me life. It is almost a bonus too that he is in Italy because I can focus on getting settled here while still looking forward to coming home and Skyping with him at the end of the day. We also text a lot throughout the day: I am thinking of you, this reminded me of you, works sucks, this funny thing happened, yadda yadda. We both have good and bad days and we are able to comfort and support each other, even through the newness of this little relationship we have.
Daisy is doing great. I usually only leave once a day, sometimes for long periods. But she has not had one accident in this apartment!! Not even in the bed!! We go on walks, sometimes just around the block (about fifteen minutes) and sometimes to explore (much longer). Today, we went exploring up the hill. I have been here a month and I had never gone UP the hill! What I found was so surprising.
There is an entire neighborhood up the hill from where I am of HUGE houses and they are all different styles from all different time periods. There is even a little section that has that funny dark brown wood work on the outside and it looks like a tiny old German village, just right at the top of the hill. Inbetween a couple of the houses, there is this amazing view of the valley just behind. I went at dusk, so the sun was down but not all the light had gone just yet. There were beautiful shadows of pink and purple in the sky over the ocean in the distance and all the lights of the niehgborhood were on. What a view!! I can't imagine living in one of these houses and having this view every night.
I get Staten Island. Most New Yorkers hear that I live in SI and they say, "OH!" like it's some sin I have committed, or like I am some lower-class human with whom they couldn't communicate properly. What I have discovered is that most of those people haven't been here. They have no idea what the island is like, with its people, culture, and history. Sure, there is construction. There are houses that are empty, and there are places that are less pretty than others. But there is also history. There are these trees with huge trunks that have seen the times change and have seen multiple cultures pass through this little town. These hodge-podge neighborhoods consist of houses from different centuries and different cultural influences. It is a bit far from the city but it is loveable. The little diners are kept afloat by their regulars. The owners want to be on a first name basis with their customers. The inhabitants are nice here. They greet you on the road, with a little wave or a friendly hello. Not at all like Manhattan.
I know it's a little sinful, but I am falling in love with Staten Island. Maybe I can't personally change the entire reputation of Staten Island for all of New York. But maybe just for those with whom I come in contact, I can provide another side of the story, a first-hand encounter with the Lost Borough.
I had two lessons with my teacher, Mignon, this week. One Friday, one Saturday. She charged me for neither but let me go to the store and get groceries, play with her dog and help with making lunch as payment. She has also offered me the use of her studio at the school after she is done for the day so that I can practice without disturbing neighbors and so that I will have a piano. She is just so nice and really takes care of me. I am finally in a vocal home!
Mignon doesn't settle for mediocre. She fixes everything as many times as needed until I can do it right each time. She also tells me all the time how pretty my voice is and I'm starting to believe it too. I am still struggling with jaw problems, but it is more from misplacement of vowels and my own listening than from any real issue. She is preparing me for competitions for this summer. My first application isn't due until March 15th by which time we will see if I am ready. She thinks I can be but that maybe I don't have the right rep. She wants to reign in my voice for a bit, sing some smaller things, and really work on my middle and lower octaves to get them to match my top. She lets me sing high notes, even encourages it. And she says that one day, La Traviata will be a perfect role for me!! La Traviata is my dream role so yayyy!!!!!!! I am so happy I have made this move. She has been everything I have expected and more!!
I start my new nanny job tomorrow. It is a trial basis since it is a bit of a commute and I haven't actually met the family yet. I have however spoken with the mother on the phone and she seems very nice and very understanding. This week is a bit funny, but eventually, I will nanny Tues/Thurs and work in the office Mon/Wed. That being said, even without extra babysitting hours, I should make enough to pay rent and have food to eat. If I can get a church job, I can then pay Mignon and the coaches and pianists with no trouble. Life is actually happening here in NYC! This is the dream!
I still speak with my Italian man every day. I like him more and more. He is smart and down to earth, even through the language barrier. We talk about everything. Politics, life here versus life there, music, religion, food, vacations, dreams, work. He asks about my day and actually listens!! He laughs at me and loves to make me life. It is almost a bonus too that he is in Italy because I can focus on getting settled here while still looking forward to coming home and Skyping with him at the end of the day. We also text a lot throughout the day: I am thinking of you, this reminded me of you, works sucks, this funny thing happened, yadda yadda. We both have good and bad days and we are able to comfort and support each other, even through the newness of this little relationship we have.
Daisy is doing great. I usually only leave once a day, sometimes for long periods. But she has not had one accident in this apartment!! Not even in the bed!! We go on walks, sometimes just around the block (about fifteen minutes) and sometimes to explore (much longer). Today, we went exploring up the hill. I have been here a month and I had never gone UP the hill! What I found was so surprising.
There is an entire neighborhood up the hill from where I am of HUGE houses and they are all different styles from all different time periods. There is even a little section that has that funny dark brown wood work on the outside and it looks like a tiny old German village, just right at the top of the hill. Inbetween a couple of the houses, there is this amazing view of the valley just behind. I went at dusk, so the sun was down but not all the light had gone just yet. There were beautiful shadows of pink and purple in the sky over the ocean in the distance and all the lights of the niehgborhood were on. What a view!! I can't imagine living in one of these houses and having this view every night.
I get Staten Island. Most New Yorkers hear that I live in SI and they say, "OH!" like it's some sin I have committed, or like I am some lower-class human with whom they couldn't communicate properly. What I have discovered is that most of those people haven't been here. They have no idea what the island is like, with its people, culture, and history. Sure, there is construction. There are houses that are empty, and there are places that are less pretty than others. But there is also history. There are these trees with huge trunks that have seen the times change and have seen multiple cultures pass through this little town. These hodge-podge neighborhoods consist of houses from different centuries and different cultural influences. It is a bit far from the city but it is loveable. The little diners are kept afloat by their regulars. The owners want to be on a first name basis with their customers. The inhabitants are nice here. They greet you on the road, with a little wave or a friendly hello. Not at all like Manhattan.
I know it's a little sinful, but I am falling in love with Staten Island. Maybe I can't personally change the entire reputation of Staten Island for all of New York. But maybe just for those with whom I come in contact, I can provide another side of the story, a first-hand encounter with the Lost Borough.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Everything is New
Well I started my job on Tuesday!! It is awesome. I am working for an IT solutions company that handles anything from printer systems to software bugs. I am the right hand assistant to the Vice President of Sales. His name is Joe. Joe is probably one of the nicest people I have ever met. He made me save his cell phone number in case I needed anything. And coincidence of coincidences: He lives on Staten Island, very close to where I do!! He is so helpful and explains everything. He wants to make sure I understand and feel comfortable and that I don't get overwhelmed. The other person I will be helping is Denise. She is so sweet!! She is very smart and very good at her job. She is very funny and we get along great! Victoria and Christine are in the cubicles closest to me and they are the chattiest Cathies I have ever met!! They chat and chat and they ask me questions. They work under Steve, who I believe is the president of the whole operation. Vinny is the third owner, and I haven't had much contact with him but both he and Steve welcomed me, offered me help if ever I couldn't get ahold of Joe for some reason.
The cool thing about the Three Bosses is that they began as the maintenance guys. They worked for a company back in the eighties that was going under, so rather than waiting to get fired, they decided to start their own business that was fair and efficient, cost-effective and reliable. These guys understand what it's like to be at the bottom and have figured it out together. They have been in business since 1987 and they are a rock-solid team. I am just so happy to be working in an environment that is so positive and believes in good business (not screwing people). They even have the same radio in the kitchen that they did when they first started the business. It is AWESOME!! It still has the cassette deck and everything. It's so funny, this little radio. So out of date and somehow, it's a neat little reminder of the three guys that decided to be their own bosses.
Since that job is only part-time, I am still looking for something else to pay the bills. I have spoken with a lady in Long Island who needs a nanny for three kids. We spoke on the phone just last night and I really like her. She seems really nice and very fair. The only catch is that it is a pretty long commute with a full day so we will see how that turns out.
I met a man last week who was here on business from Milan. He is the kindest, most thoughtful man I've ever met. He is funny with his friends, gentle with me, and already loves my dog. He even has two labradors of his own back in Italy!! It was this crazy whirlwind week of a new job, a new love interest, and new experiences. We went to Times Square and we went to dinner every night together with his Italian friends and colleagues. He even came to my place one evening, cooked pasta for me and made a chocolate fondue!! Most romantic week of my life. He is back in Italy now but we Skype every day and there is an app that lets us text for free from halfway across the world!! Technology is very very cool. We will see what happens but I am the most excited about this man than I've been about any man in a very long time!!
As most of you know, there was a blizzard here over the weekend. It wasn't nearly as bad as they said. We only got about eight inches of snow and the wind blew pretty hard around two in the morning. But what I found amazing, was the newness that emerged on the next morning. Not a cloud in the sky. The air was so clear, you could breathe in the freshness. The sun was so bright and everything was covered in a blanket of white. It was beautiful. The ferry was just gorgeous: to ride on the water and see the boats with snow, the houses with snow, the docks with snow.
I feel like my life has been like this storm. The week I moved here was so crazy. So many things happened and I didn't know what was going to happen. The blizzard of things that went wrong was the strongest I'd seen in my whole life. Yet somehow, everything worked out. I am finally in this calm stage where everything is as it should be: new, shiny, exciting, clear. I've got the hang of the trains and know how to time my travel. I know where to go to get decent but cheap food. And still, I discover new things every day. I am still fascinated by the people and the culture here. I am astounded by the sheer volume of people in this city and that most of them have homes, jobs, and friends. I have a new job I'm very excited about. I have a new beau who makes me extremely happy even from across an ocean. I have a new territory that is mine. This new life is amazing and I wouldn't change it for the world! I thank God for this every day. I am so blessed.
The cool thing about the Three Bosses is that they began as the maintenance guys. They worked for a company back in the eighties that was going under, so rather than waiting to get fired, they decided to start their own business that was fair and efficient, cost-effective and reliable. These guys understand what it's like to be at the bottom and have figured it out together. They have been in business since 1987 and they are a rock-solid team. I am just so happy to be working in an environment that is so positive and believes in good business (not screwing people). They even have the same radio in the kitchen that they did when they first started the business. It is AWESOME!! It still has the cassette deck and everything. It's so funny, this little radio. So out of date and somehow, it's a neat little reminder of the three guys that decided to be their own bosses.
Since that job is only part-time, I am still looking for something else to pay the bills. I have spoken with a lady in Long Island who needs a nanny for three kids. We spoke on the phone just last night and I really like her. She seems really nice and very fair. The only catch is that it is a pretty long commute with a full day so we will see how that turns out.
I met a man last week who was here on business from Milan. He is the kindest, most thoughtful man I've ever met. He is funny with his friends, gentle with me, and already loves my dog. He even has two labradors of his own back in Italy!! It was this crazy whirlwind week of a new job, a new love interest, and new experiences. We went to Times Square and we went to dinner every night together with his Italian friends and colleagues. He even came to my place one evening, cooked pasta for me and made a chocolate fondue!! Most romantic week of my life. He is back in Italy now but we Skype every day and there is an app that lets us text for free from halfway across the world!! Technology is very very cool. We will see what happens but I am the most excited about this man than I've been about any man in a very long time!!
As most of you know, there was a blizzard here over the weekend. It wasn't nearly as bad as they said. We only got about eight inches of snow and the wind blew pretty hard around two in the morning. But what I found amazing, was the newness that emerged on the next morning. Not a cloud in the sky. The air was so clear, you could breathe in the freshness. The sun was so bright and everything was covered in a blanket of white. It was beautiful. The ferry was just gorgeous: to ride on the water and see the boats with snow, the houses with snow, the docks with snow.
I feel like my life has been like this storm. The week I moved here was so crazy. So many things happened and I didn't know what was going to happen. The blizzard of things that went wrong was the strongest I'd seen in my whole life. Yet somehow, everything worked out. I am finally in this calm stage where everything is as it should be: new, shiny, exciting, clear. I've got the hang of the trains and know how to time my travel. I know where to go to get decent but cheap food. And still, I discover new things every day. I am still fascinated by the people and the culture here. I am astounded by the sheer volume of people in this city and that most of them have homes, jobs, and friends. I have a new job I'm very excited about. I have a new beau who makes me extremely happy even from across an ocean. I have a new territory that is mine. This new life is amazing and I wouldn't change it for the world! I thank God for this every day. I am so blessed.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Zombies and Labradors
This is it guys. The proof you have needed. Zombies exist in New York City. I'm serious!
There is this breed of humanoid that doesn't seem quite right. They have this strange waddle that has no purpose, no rhyme. They simply sway to and fro with no thought to destination or hurry. Sometimes they have headphones, sometimes simply hoods. Sometimes they even walk with their eyes closed! Some of them fall asleep where they stand, others find a nice train car to huddle in. Some talk non-sense, some ask for money with compelling stories of the children and elderly. I have no idea if they eat other humans, or if they eat at all (although about half of them are quite large in size). But they are ever-present in the myriad throngs of New Yorkers, flocking from home to work and back. They are always there to slow down the crowd, add that particular stench to the subway or make one grateful for the home he can return to. Zombies are very real and not at all a figment of lore. It's fascinating to wonder where they go, where they come from, where their families are. Definitely something I have loved to ponder in my time on public transportation routes.
In serious contrast: Labradors. Cute teenaged labradors. Blonde, white, chocolate, jet black. They are all there and they stay in the ferry terminal. No joke. There are so many of these year old, maybe two year old labradors that just sit in the terminal with their handlers in uniform. They sniff nothing but are not allowed to play. I sincerely believe they are being desensitized to great crowds in order to be better at their jobs later. I went to pet one once. The handler wouldn't let me saying, "Then she won't work." But they are so darn cute I just can't resist!! I want to play with them all. Le sigh. One day I will ask and discover the purpose of these ridiculously adorable pooches chilling out in the Staten Island Ferry terminal.
I had my first lesson with Mignon Dunn on Tuesday. What an amazing woman. She mentioned repeatedly how I had a good voice and informed me that there was nothing seriously wrong with my technique. I just need some straightening out, as she says. She even wants me to start competing this summer! She called today and suggested I audition for some small roles, just to get on stage. We will do some readthroughs on Friday at my next lesson. She is so great. We warmed up and I'm not nearly as rusty as I thought I was. We did some exercises to loosen up my vocal chords and she agrees that I can begin to move toward more dramatic coloratura things. She says I could definitely do La Traviata (my dream role) and I could do Rigoletto and probably Mimi later on down the line. I am so excited that she still likes my voice and still ehars potential. I was so worried for a bit!!
I finally got a job!! It's only a part time so I am still hunting for anything else to pay the bills. But at least I have this! I will be working in an office on the fifteenth floor, my cubicle looks west and I see the Empire State Building with the sun making a grand exit behind it every day. I am so excited. My boss is very very nice. He seems like a decent, honest guy with a good head for business. He is particular, but kind. And it's a foot in the door. All I needed was this one break. Now I am searching for a church job and/or a synagogue job that pays.
I met a man last weekend. We have had a blast these last few days, talking and geting to know each other, doing touristy things together. He is so sweet to me and treats me like a princess. He is Italian and lives full-time in Milan but would love to spend more time in the states. It is crazy how life can change in an instant, in a week. Everything is looking up, my friends. Life is good and I am exactly where God wants me to be. That is enough.
There is this breed of humanoid that doesn't seem quite right. They have this strange waddle that has no purpose, no rhyme. They simply sway to and fro with no thought to destination or hurry. Sometimes they have headphones, sometimes simply hoods. Sometimes they even walk with their eyes closed! Some of them fall asleep where they stand, others find a nice train car to huddle in. Some talk non-sense, some ask for money with compelling stories of the children and elderly. I have no idea if they eat other humans, or if they eat at all (although about half of them are quite large in size). But they are ever-present in the myriad throngs of New Yorkers, flocking from home to work and back. They are always there to slow down the crowd, add that particular stench to the subway or make one grateful for the home he can return to. Zombies are very real and not at all a figment of lore. It's fascinating to wonder where they go, where they come from, where their families are. Definitely something I have loved to ponder in my time on public transportation routes.
In serious contrast: Labradors. Cute teenaged labradors. Blonde, white, chocolate, jet black. They are all there and they stay in the ferry terminal. No joke. There are so many of these year old, maybe two year old labradors that just sit in the terminal with their handlers in uniform. They sniff nothing but are not allowed to play. I sincerely believe they are being desensitized to great crowds in order to be better at their jobs later. I went to pet one once. The handler wouldn't let me saying, "Then she won't work." But they are so darn cute I just can't resist!! I want to play with them all. Le sigh. One day I will ask and discover the purpose of these ridiculously adorable pooches chilling out in the Staten Island Ferry terminal.
I had my first lesson with Mignon Dunn on Tuesday. What an amazing woman. She mentioned repeatedly how I had a good voice and informed me that there was nothing seriously wrong with my technique. I just need some straightening out, as she says. She even wants me to start competing this summer! She called today and suggested I audition for some small roles, just to get on stage. We will do some readthroughs on Friday at my next lesson. She is so great. We warmed up and I'm not nearly as rusty as I thought I was. We did some exercises to loosen up my vocal chords and she agrees that I can begin to move toward more dramatic coloratura things. She says I could definitely do La Traviata (my dream role) and I could do Rigoletto and probably Mimi later on down the line. I am so excited that she still likes my voice and still ehars potential. I was so worried for a bit!!
I finally got a job!! It's only a part time so I am still hunting for anything else to pay the bills. But at least I have this! I will be working in an office on the fifteenth floor, my cubicle looks west and I see the Empire State Building with the sun making a grand exit behind it every day. I am so excited. My boss is very very nice. He seems like a decent, honest guy with a good head for business. He is particular, but kind. And it's a foot in the door. All I needed was this one break. Now I am searching for a church job and/or a synagogue job that pays.
I met a man last weekend. We have had a blast these last few days, talking and geting to know each other, doing touristy things together. He is so sweet to me and treats me like a princess. He is Italian and lives full-time in Milan but would love to spend more time in the states. It is crazy how life can change in an instant, in a week. Everything is looking up, my friends. Life is good and I am exactly where God wants me to be. That is enough.
Saturday, February 2, 2013
The Met and Dinner with Friends
These last couple of days have been a blast! I went to the Met Opera for the first time on Thursday night. It was low key, we sat in the cheapest tickets in the nosebleed section (or as they call it: Family Circle). I had the great surprise of finding out that I just happened to buy tickets to a show starring the great Diana Damrau. She was gorgeous in such a gruesome play where there are no heroes. She is loveable and cute and has these heart-wrenchingly beautiful high notes that just soar. Her line is incredible and every note is so clear. She was flawless.
The show itself was just incredible. I saw Rigoletto but they sort of did it in a Roaring Twenties/Gangster/Casino type theme. Lots of neon lights lit the stage from the back ground as gorgeous women in cancan dancer costumes with exotic feather tails served food and did a fan dance for dashing men in coats-and-tails. It was all very glamorous to begin with and as we got to know the characters and their flaws, the scenery became more dank and seedy. There was even a stripper in the third act who had no top on!! What a shock!! Welcome to shows in the real world, I guess. It was a wonderful experience and I do hope to have much better seats in the future!!
-=-
Yesterday, I went to dinner with my friend Rachel and her two roommates. We shared a pitcher of Sangria and some cheese and bread and salad. It was so good to be out with a group. We just chatted about work and boys, relationships, dogs, life in New York. It felt really great. I finally feel as if Iam not so lonely in this city. I have also managed to get in contact with a few people from my past (camps, high school, young artist programs, etc.) so it's been nice.
-=-
It is beautiful and sunny on Staten Island today. It feels warm even if it's ony twenty-two degrees. I have dinner plans in the city tonight and plan to do some laundry today. I am very excited about these dinner plans ;)
-=-
My lesson with my teacher got moved again this time to Monday at 2. Please be praying we find a time that works for both of us. Also pray that I find a job very very soon because it is very expensive to live here and I may not have enough to eat or pay rent in a couple of months. If anyone has suggestions for jobs, please email me or comment here. Much appreciated!!
The show itself was just incredible. I saw Rigoletto but they sort of did it in a Roaring Twenties/Gangster/Casino type theme. Lots of neon lights lit the stage from the back ground as gorgeous women in cancan dancer costumes with exotic feather tails served food and did a fan dance for dashing men in coats-and-tails. It was all very glamorous to begin with and as we got to know the characters and their flaws, the scenery became more dank and seedy. There was even a stripper in the third act who had no top on!! What a shock!! Welcome to shows in the real world, I guess. It was a wonderful experience and I do hope to have much better seats in the future!!
-=-
Yesterday, I went to dinner with my friend Rachel and her two roommates. We shared a pitcher of Sangria and some cheese and bread and salad. It was so good to be out with a group. We just chatted about work and boys, relationships, dogs, life in New York. It felt really great. I finally feel as if Iam not so lonely in this city. I have also managed to get in contact with a few people from my past (camps, high school, young artist programs, etc.) so it's been nice.
-=-
It is beautiful and sunny on Staten Island today. It feels warm even if it's ony twenty-two degrees. I have dinner plans in the city tonight and plan to do some laundry today. I am very excited about these dinner plans ;)
-=-
My lesson with my teacher got moved again this time to Monday at 2. Please be praying we find a time that works for both of us. Also pray that I find a job very very soon because it is very expensive to live here and I may not have enough to eat or pay rent in a couple of months. If anyone has suggestions for jobs, please email me or comment here. Much appreciated!!
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Courage is Not the Absence of Fear
Thirteen years ago today, I was standing alone on the side of the road. Why no one offered help to a ten year old little girl in this condition I had no idea. So many people stopped their cars. Someone I didn't know had called for an ambulance. On came the cops and a fire truck and the EMS and no one noticed the little girl sitting outside the guardrail waiting for someone to notice her. I finally got up the courage to ask a woman speaking on her cell phone if I could borrow it and call my mom. She immediately hung up her call and let me dial mine. I had a mild panic attack when I couldn't remember the area code but my mother had made me memorize her number for instances just like this. "Mom, we were in a wreck. I'm ok but I don't know about Daddy or Katelyn."
At this point, a cop found me and asked to speak with my mother. An EMS guy came over, strapped me on a board (which I walked over to and climbed on all by myself). I went to the hospital. Not long after, they told me that my daddy had died and we were going to see my sister in a different hospital. I had to get back in a car.
These are the memories that on this day cloud my thoughts. What I remember is strange though. I don't remember feeling afraid. I don't remember feeling lonely. I don't remember feeling particularly sad, other than knowing deep down somehow that my dad was probably gone. I just couldn't understand why I was without an adult I knew, surrounded by other adults, and no one was worried by this. I do remember not feeling particularly hungry when the youth minister took all the younger kids and me to Whataburger. I had a chocolate shake.
Fear is a funny thing. I'm afraid of spiders. I'm afraid of people I don't know and situations I can't control. I'm afraid of failure. I'm afraid of success. I'm afraid of going on stage and croaking. I have a strange, inexplicable fear of being shot. But somehow, at any given time, I can say to myself, "I do not have time to be afraid." I then ignore the fear, tell myself it doesn't matter if I'm afraid or not because I have things to accomplish, and do what needs to be done.
The week leading up to my move to the Big City, I went back and forth between afraid of leaving and so excited to arrive. But ultimately, I needed to move. I needed to see if I could do it. I did it. It's strange and a little unnerving sometimes. I meet lots of people and I'm lonely most of the time. I've made acquaintances but I haven't made any relationships. The thing is, I'm not afraid to try. A very smart ex-boyfriend of mine used to say, "Ask. Asking is free." Which I still to this day tell my friends to do. I've applied that to fear: Try. Trying is free. It's free advice. It's free experience. It's free credential.
Meg Cabot, the author of the Princess Diaries wrote, “Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear. The brave may not live forever, but the cautious do not live at all. From now on you'll be traveling the road between who you think you are and who you can be. The key is to allow yourself to make the journey.”
Thirteen years ago today, I first made the choice to suppress fear. I suppressed my fear of talking to strangers and asked that lady for her phone. I suppressed my fear of being alone long enough to remember the area code for Austin because my mother needed to be informed. I suppressed the fear that I could be in a car wreck again and got back in the car to go see my sister, because she had been through the same thing I had.
Maybe it was stupid. Maybe it was naive. Maybe it was bravery. But somehow that stuck. The ability to ignore it and do what needed to be done stuck.
I do not have time to be afraid. I ask because it's free. I try because it's important. I do because it's necessary.
At this point, a cop found me and asked to speak with my mother. An EMS guy came over, strapped me on a board (which I walked over to and climbed on all by myself). I went to the hospital. Not long after, they told me that my daddy had died and we were going to see my sister in a different hospital. I had to get back in a car.
These are the memories that on this day cloud my thoughts. What I remember is strange though. I don't remember feeling afraid. I don't remember feeling lonely. I don't remember feeling particularly sad, other than knowing deep down somehow that my dad was probably gone. I just couldn't understand why I was without an adult I knew, surrounded by other adults, and no one was worried by this. I do remember not feeling particularly hungry when the youth minister took all the younger kids and me to Whataburger. I had a chocolate shake.
Fear is a funny thing. I'm afraid of spiders. I'm afraid of people I don't know and situations I can't control. I'm afraid of failure. I'm afraid of success. I'm afraid of going on stage and croaking. I have a strange, inexplicable fear of being shot. But somehow, at any given time, I can say to myself, "I do not have time to be afraid." I then ignore the fear, tell myself it doesn't matter if I'm afraid or not because I have things to accomplish, and do what needs to be done.
The week leading up to my move to the Big City, I went back and forth between afraid of leaving and so excited to arrive. But ultimately, I needed to move. I needed to see if I could do it. I did it. It's strange and a little unnerving sometimes. I meet lots of people and I'm lonely most of the time. I've made acquaintances but I haven't made any relationships. The thing is, I'm not afraid to try. A very smart ex-boyfriend of mine used to say, "Ask. Asking is free." Which I still to this day tell my friends to do. I've applied that to fear: Try. Trying is free. It's free advice. It's free experience. It's free credential.
Meg Cabot, the author of the Princess Diaries wrote, “Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear. The brave may not live forever, but the cautious do not live at all. From now on you'll be traveling the road between who you think you are and who you can be. The key is to allow yourself to make the journey.”
Thirteen years ago today, I first made the choice to suppress fear. I suppressed my fear of talking to strangers and asked that lady for her phone. I suppressed my fear of being alone long enough to remember the area code for Austin because my mother needed to be informed. I suppressed the fear that I could be in a car wreck again and got back in the car to go see my sister, because she had been through the same thing I had.
Maybe it was stupid. Maybe it was naive. Maybe it was bravery. But somehow that stuck. The ability to ignore it and do what needed to be done stuck.
I do not have time to be afraid. I ask because it's free. I try because it's important. I do because it's necessary.
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Just a Little News
We finally got a little bit of respite from the cold today. It was forty-four degrees and sunny for just a little bit. Beautiful!! Daisy and I got to go for a gorgeous walk and I got told I was beautiful by a bunch of random strangers. I kept walking. But it was still nice to hear!
The job search continues. I have had some wonderful help from even more wonderful people with resumes and referrals, encouragement and support. I recently found a posting for a job from 10-7 which really would be the best time frame, the best amount of hours and there would be so much room to grow with the company. I am very hopeful and optimistic about it!!
It is surprisingly cheap to live in Staten Island. There are dollar stores everywhere and there isn't tax on things under fifty dollars. It is the strangest thing. At least I think that's how it works... In Texas, there is an 8.25% tax on just about everything from food to clothes to groceries. I could calculate a reasonable price in my head in two seconds flat! But no tax?? It's just too easy! I mean, everything in the dollar store is the cheapest it possibly comes and well, finding Charmin in this town is like finding a twenty in the subway. It doesn't happen a lot and it's really exciting when it does... But I am figuring out which stores have Charmin, which ones have Double Stuf Oreos, which ones have good dog food. And none of these things are at the same store.
I also haven't really been off the island in a couple of days so I don't have anything new to write about. It's a little strange to write a blog. I frequently wonder if people really care about my little problems, thoughts, and musings. I rewrote this post three times, and the dollar stores were the best subject! So I guess just take this post as an update and maybe I'll have an epiphany for you tomorrow.
Oh and I have my first lesson in NY with Mignon on Friday! It's been rescheduled once but I hope it will happen since she was the reason I moved here in the first place. So stay tuned for updates on how that goes. As always, thanks for reading and have a happy week!
The job search continues. I have had some wonderful help from even more wonderful people with resumes and referrals, encouragement and support. I recently found a posting for a job from 10-7 which really would be the best time frame, the best amount of hours and there would be so much room to grow with the company. I am very hopeful and optimistic about it!!
It is surprisingly cheap to live in Staten Island. There are dollar stores everywhere and there isn't tax on things under fifty dollars. It is the strangest thing. At least I think that's how it works... In Texas, there is an 8.25% tax on just about everything from food to clothes to groceries. I could calculate a reasonable price in my head in two seconds flat! But no tax?? It's just too easy! I mean, everything in the dollar store is the cheapest it possibly comes and well, finding Charmin in this town is like finding a twenty in the subway. It doesn't happen a lot and it's really exciting when it does... But I am figuring out which stores have Charmin, which ones have Double Stuf Oreos, which ones have good dog food. And none of these things are at the same store.
I also haven't really been off the island in a couple of days so I don't have anything new to write about. It's a little strange to write a blog. I frequently wonder if people really care about my little problems, thoughts, and musings. I rewrote this post three times, and the dollar stores were the best subject! So I guess just take this post as an update and maybe I'll have an epiphany for you tomorrow.
Oh and I have my first lesson in NY with Mignon on Friday! It's been rescheduled once but I hope it will happen since she was the reason I moved here in the first place. So stay tuned for updates on how that goes. As always, thanks for reading and have a happy week!
Friday, January 25, 2013
First Snow
It is snowing, friends, on SI and in the city. It is so beautiful, it looks like the finest glitter falling from the clouds. It's so cold, but what a treasure to see something so beautiful!
It's the first snow I've seen all winter; it's also the first snow I've experienced in New York. My shoes are worthless on the slick streets and forget any hairstyle but a ponytail. The snow melts in my hair and eyelashes rendering me the lookalike of a frozen drowned kitten, no matter what I try.
On side note, I'm thinking of starting a little blurb and calling it, "According to Kathy." I went to my little grocery again today and chatted with Kathy, the Long Island Asian lady, and it's just so nice to have a gossip friend. I thought it would be cute to record the funny little conversations we have, like we are the oldest and dearest friends. So here's the first one:
According to Kathy, Starbucks pays something like $15 an hour and it's the best place to meet cute single boys. The best nanny jobs are in the city for the upwardly mobile young couples and can pay around $40,000 a year. For this information, I traded my newly discovered secret of a little store call Green Finds, where I found a cashmere sweater marked down to $10!
The job search continues. I have had a few nibbles on my resume but no one has bitten yet. I am so grateful to be living in the wonderful city, despite its cold and its poor grammar and manners. Guess I'll have to get my Southern out and teach 'em, won't I??
Keep reading, my friend! Have a blessed weekend!!
It's the first snow I've seen all winter; it's also the first snow I've experienced in New York. My shoes are worthless on the slick streets and forget any hairstyle but a ponytail. The snow melts in my hair and eyelashes rendering me the lookalike of a frozen drowned kitten, no matter what I try.
On side note, I'm thinking of starting a little blurb and calling it, "According to Kathy." I went to my little grocery again today and chatted with Kathy, the Long Island Asian lady, and it's just so nice to have a gossip friend. I thought it would be cute to record the funny little conversations we have, like we are the oldest and dearest friends. So here's the first one:
According to Kathy, Starbucks pays something like $15 an hour and it's the best place to meet cute single boys. The best nanny jobs are in the city for the upwardly mobile young couples and can pay around $40,000 a year. For this information, I traded my newly discovered secret of a little store call Green Finds, where I found a cashmere sweater marked down to $10!
The job search continues. I have had a few nibbles on my resume but no one has bitten yet. I am so grateful to be living in the wonderful city, despite its cold and its poor grammar and manners. Guess I'll have to get my Southern out and teach 'em, won't I??
Keep reading, my friend! Have a blessed weekend!!
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Muzzle, Dillards, Commercials, and Cold
So I read up on the rules for the ferry and Daisy can ride the ferry but she must wear a muzzle. I bought her a muzzle a few days ago (at a pet store I just happened across in the city). But Daisy has never worn one. She's never bitten anyone, doesn't bark a lot and is altogether pretty good natured. I tell you, I was laughing SO HARD when I put this thing on. Sweet Daisy was so patient while I made it the right size then spent the next fifteen minutes rubbing her face with her paws, rubbing her face on my legs, staring at me with those ASPCA-forgotten-or-abused-pet eyes. We went for a walk to try and get used to it. She eventually figured out she could still smell with it one but she definitely doesn't care for it. However she does let strangers pet her with it on... Although that may be because she's hoping they will be her savior and take it off. Anyway, she was a good girl and wore her muzzle today. I was very very proud of her.
-=-
So I've discovered this thing called small business. It's what NYC is all about. That's all fine and dandy, but there are hardly any chain stores or department stores to speak of. The one I miss most? Dillard's. I. LOVE. Dillard's. I love the brands of shoes they carry, the lines of make-up they carry, and it is much more reasonably priced than Macy's. Upon realizing I need more of my Clinique make-up, which I have always gotten at Dillards with a free makeover for being such a good customer, I search for Dillard's in NYC. THERE ARE NONE. Seriously?? The closest Dillards is Virginia. Virginia!!! So along with everything, I am going to have to find a new make-up. Or at least a Clinique store...
-=-
I've noticed this weird thing: The commercials here are completely different. We don't have the same commercials for the same products (what few similar products there are). The tactics they employ, the appeals they use are so different than what I'm used to. It makes having the TV on a very fascinating study. Why would they use that actress? Why would they mention that perk? Why would they use that wording? Nothing specific comes to mind but it keeps me thinking. Everything keeps me thinking here. It's all so new and so much to absorb. I wonder how I will ever remember any of it. Don't take familiar surroundings for granted. It's a nice thing to know what is around you. You are able to notice something that changes or something that is off. I don't have that here.
-=-
For those of you who don't check the weather, we have some weird artic norther thing happening in NYC. It is 19 degrees Fahrenheit here. 19. The low is 11. No snow, and if you don't stand too close to the window you could guess it's maybe 60 degrees and sunny. It's beautiful. But very very very cold for this Texan!
That's all the updates I have for now! I have a phone interview coming up here in the next few days for a job at a little retail shop. Nothing fancy but it would pay the bills for now. So keep those prayers going up and I will write again soon.
Thanks, you guys, for reading!! I never thought so many people would care about my life like this and it feels great :) Happy Thursday!
-=-
So I've discovered this thing called small business. It's what NYC is all about. That's all fine and dandy, but there are hardly any chain stores or department stores to speak of. The one I miss most? Dillard's. I. LOVE. Dillard's. I love the brands of shoes they carry, the lines of make-up they carry, and it is much more reasonably priced than Macy's. Upon realizing I need more of my Clinique make-up, which I have always gotten at Dillards with a free makeover for being such a good customer, I search for Dillard's in NYC. THERE ARE NONE. Seriously?? The closest Dillards is Virginia. Virginia!!! So along with everything, I am going to have to find a new make-up. Or at least a Clinique store...
-=-
I've noticed this weird thing: The commercials here are completely different. We don't have the same commercials for the same products (what few similar products there are). The tactics they employ, the appeals they use are so different than what I'm used to. It makes having the TV on a very fascinating study. Why would they use that actress? Why would they mention that perk? Why would they use that wording? Nothing specific comes to mind but it keeps me thinking. Everything keeps me thinking here. It's all so new and so much to absorb. I wonder how I will ever remember any of it. Don't take familiar surroundings for granted. It's a nice thing to know what is around you. You are able to notice something that changes or something that is off. I don't have that here.
-=-
For those of you who don't check the weather, we have some weird artic norther thing happening in NYC. It is 19 degrees Fahrenheit here. 19. The low is 11. No snow, and if you don't stand too close to the window you could guess it's maybe 60 degrees and sunny. It's beautiful. But very very very cold for this Texan!
That's all the updates I have for now! I have a phone interview coming up here in the next few days for a job at a little retail shop. Nothing fancy but it would pay the bills for now. So keep those prayers going up and I will write again soon.
Thanks, you guys, for reading!! I never thought so many people would care about my life like this and it feels great :) Happy Thursday!
Monday, January 21, 2013
The American Quilt
Let me tell you about Kathy.
A couple of days ago, I found this tiny little grocery that actually has fresh veggies such as lettuce, tomatoes, garlic, onion, broccoli, milk, eggs, even frozen dinners. I don't often find such variety here. Now in my experience (all one week of it), the majority of grocery owners are immigrants who may or may not speak great English. Fully expecting this to be the case, I did not expect much from my Asian lady grocer.
I went to the grocery store today and I asked a question. The asian woman, whose name I now know to be Kathy, answers me with flawless English in a brilliant Staten Island accent. We had the nicest conversation. She warned me about where the thugs like to mug people, even told me where to meet the most ethical single guys! (I don't actually remember where she said but I will definitely ask again for those who are curious!) Probably the nicest and most helpful person I have met in Staten Island so far. Unbelievable! How dare I, with my college education and somewhat progressive political views, expect anything from this woman BUT that she is American??
Immediately prior to going to the grocery store, I stopped in the pharmacy on the corner. As I was waiting in line, I noticed that the man directly behind the counter was middle eastern (dark complected, thick accent. Possibly Arabic?) The man behind him was hispanic. The customer at the counter was a black man who had run into what I assume to be his friend: a very old Asian man. There were laughing and ribbing each other in the humorous way old men do. And there was a white boy about my age sitting in a chair, waiting on his prescription. In one six-square-foot area, each of the major racial and gender divisions was represented. It was a very cool moment in which I truly felt the quilted nature of American society.
In church on Sunday, I noticed a multitude of people who are not in my socioeconomic grouping. I had no idea I'd been living in such a predominantly white society. I was shocked by the number of black people in a Church of Christ. I was taken aback by the not one, but TWO women who were passing communion trays. I was incredulous observing a blind woman with a three-year-old seeing daughter who knew to take her mother's hand and place it on the stairwell railing. There was even a young boy, about eight years old, who didn't have his left arm below the elbow.
Shame on me.
There is no reason not to expect these things. Not after the efforts of the women at the turn of the century to gain the right to vote. Not after the efforts of Martin Luther King, Jr. and his followers to gain racial equality. Not after my personal voyages to Israel, Ukraine, Amsterdam, where I saw so much injustice and inequality, so much poverty and prejudice. How dare I expect the world to be homogenous. This is a new century. This is a new culture.
I was humbled today in the most important way possible. Not every is like me. Not everyone has had my blessings. Not everyone has had my curses. The thing about it is, this would not be America without our differences. This would not be America without our opportunities. But this is America. We have curses, differences, blessings, and opportunities. Why would we ever expect anything less?
A couple of days ago, I found this tiny little grocery that actually has fresh veggies such as lettuce, tomatoes, garlic, onion, broccoli, milk, eggs, even frozen dinners. I don't often find such variety here. Now in my experience (all one week of it), the majority of grocery owners are immigrants who may or may not speak great English. Fully expecting this to be the case, I did not expect much from my Asian lady grocer.
I went to the grocery store today and I asked a question. The asian woman, whose name I now know to be Kathy, answers me with flawless English in a brilliant Staten Island accent. We had the nicest conversation. She warned me about where the thugs like to mug people, even told me where to meet the most ethical single guys! (I don't actually remember where she said but I will definitely ask again for those who are curious!) Probably the nicest and most helpful person I have met in Staten Island so far. Unbelievable! How dare I, with my college education and somewhat progressive political views, expect anything from this woman BUT that she is American??
Immediately prior to going to the grocery store, I stopped in the pharmacy on the corner. As I was waiting in line, I noticed that the man directly behind the counter was middle eastern (dark complected, thick accent. Possibly Arabic?) The man behind him was hispanic. The customer at the counter was a black man who had run into what I assume to be his friend: a very old Asian man. There were laughing and ribbing each other in the humorous way old men do. And there was a white boy about my age sitting in a chair, waiting on his prescription. In one six-square-foot area, each of the major racial and gender divisions was represented. It was a very cool moment in which I truly felt the quilted nature of American society.
In church on Sunday, I noticed a multitude of people who are not in my socioeconomic grouping. I had no idea I'd been living in such a predominantly white society. I was shocked by the number of black people in a Church of Christ. I was taken aback by the not one, but TWO women who were passing communion trays. I was incredulous observing a blind woman with a three-year-old seeing daughter who knew to take her mother's hand and place it on the stairwell railing. There was even a young boy, about eight years old, who didn't have his left arm below the elbow.
Shame on me.
There is no reason not to expect these things. Not after the efforts of the women at the turn of the century to gain the right to vote. Not after the efforts of Martin Luther King, Jr. and his followers to gain racial equality. Not after my personal voyages to Israel, Ukraine, Amsterdam, where I saw so much injustice and inequality, so much poverty and prejudice. How dare I expect the world to be homogenous. This is a new century. This is a new culture.
I was humbled today in the most important way possible. Not every is like me. Not everyone has had my blessings. Not everyone has had my curses. The thing about it is, this would not be America without our differences. This would not be America without our opportunities. But this is America. We have curses, differences, blessings, and opportunities. Why would we ever expect anything less?
Sunday, January 20, 2013
Learning the Trains
Today, I was awesome. I boarded the 9am ferry not knowing what exactly my plan for the train ride was. I needed to take the 5 train to Grand Central then transfer to the 6. I, having no knowledge of trains or how they work, had no idea why I had to switch trains when both trains followed the green line. So for all the other train-dummies out there, here's what you need to know: There is an express train that will follow the same path as the local train but stops less frequently. IF your stop falls in between two express stops, you must then transfer to the local train which will take you within a block or two of where you need to be. ALSO, if there are changes in the trains that are running or in the times they run, you should probably find these out ahead of time. I did not notice the signs that said "Scheduled change: The 5 train no longer runs on weekends. Take the 4 train to Grand Central." until after I had already missed the 4 train. Ugh. So I waited another fifteen minutes and boarded the 4, took it to Grand Central and followed the signs.... kind of.
The signs in the subway are color coded based on the train routes, pretty self explanatory, except sometimes they say Exit and some other train line. This does not mean exit and then board another train. Sometimes you have to go up a flight of stairs, around the bend and down another flight to get to the platform where your train will pick you up. Someone really should tell New Yorkers that "Follow the signs" isn't actually the answer to "Where does [this train] go?" Or "how do I get to [this train]?" Because truthfully, there is about a quarter of a mile of platform for one train and some signs say, "Other end of the plat." This doesn't mean your train will pick you up at the other end of the plat. It means the stairs that take you to the correct platform are at the other end of the plat.
All this to say, I made it from the Staten Island ferry onto the 4 train, got off at Grand Central, boarded the 6 train and made it to church this morning. Then from church I took the 6 back toward Grand Central but got off at 59th, took a path to Lexington Ave where I got on the R train, got off at Times Square and got on the 1 train which spit me out at the exact intersection I needed to be at for my voice lesson! Then a short ride on the 1 train brought me right back to the Staten Island ferry. And this makes me awesome.
In other news, I had a voice lesson with Carla LeFevre today. I was definitely rusty but she was ever so nice and really worked with my muscle placement and whole vocal mechanism to get the most glorious sound out of my voice. It was a good first lesson and highlighted a few rough places I can easily work on before I have my first lesson with Mignon. I called Mignon and we are tentatively scheduled for a week from Tuesday at 3!!! So even though I don't have a job, I have a teacher whom I adore, a working knowledge of the train station, and a loving dog who goes berserk when I get home in the afternoon. Life is good. God is even better.
The signs in the subway are color coded based on the train routes, pretty self explanatory, except sometimes they say Exit and some other train line. This does not mean exit and then board another train. Sometimes you have to go up a flight of stairs, around the bend and down another flight to get to the platform where your train will pick you up. Someone really should tell New Yorkers that "Follow the signs" isn't actually the answer to "Where does [this train] go?" Or "how do I get to [this train]?" Because truthfully, there is about a quarter of a mile of platform for one train and some signs say, "Other end of the plat." This doesn't mean your train will pick you up at the other end of the plat. It means the stairs that take you to the correct platform are at the other end of the plat.
All this to say, I made it from the Staten Island ferry onto the 4 train, got off at Grand Central, boarded the 6 train and made it to church this morning. Then from church I took the 6 back toward Grand Central but got off at 59th, took a path to Lexington Ave where I got on the R train, got off at Times Square and got on the 1 train which spit me out at the exact intersection I needed to be at for my voice lesson! Then a short ride on the 1 train brought me right back to the Staten Island ferry. And this makes me awesome.
In other news, I had a voice lesson with Carla LeFevre today. I was definitely rusty but she was ever so nice and really worked with my muscle placement and whole vocal mechanism to get the most glorious sound out of my voice. It was a good first lesson and highlighted a few rough places I can easily work on before I have my first lesson with Mignon. I called Mignon and we are tentatively scheduled for a week from Tuesday at 3!!! So even though I don't have a job, I have a teacher whom I adore, a working knowledge of the train station, and a loving dog who goes berserk when I get home in the afternoon. Life is good. God is even better.
Saturday, January 19, 2013
This Butterfly's Manifesto
So today was a true Saturday. I went to a house party in Harlem last night with a friend to blow off some steam. Had a great time and left around 1:30 thinking I could get to the 2:30 ferry in plenty of time. How very wrong I was. Not only do the train times change at night, they change even more drastically for the weekend! At first I was on the wrong train, got off at the wrong stop to catch the correct train, which wasn't actually running, then waited for what seemed like eternity for another train to show up, took that train as far south as I could, finally got off at 3am and took a cab to the ferry. I was so exhausted I couldn't think of anything else to do. Managed to get to the 3:30 ferry just as it was boarding and was home in bed by 4am.
Needless to say, I slept very late today. Got up and tried to do laundry but there are only two washing machines here. So I went to a new deli across the street, discovered sodas, hot sandwiches, canned foods, medicines, even warm hats and mittens in case I'm in a pinch! Love it. I am slowly learning my surroundings.
I also discovered online shopping yesterday. I bought sheets, dogfood, an air purifier and all of these things will be delivered to my doorstep. How convenient!
Since I slept my day away and have nothing really new to report, I figured I would explain why I chose to call this blog Butterfly Manifesto. I got a lot of great suggestions that I liked a lot. Unfortunately, finding a clever blog name that isn't taken already is really difficult! I originally had in mind to call it "Chasing Butterflies." The chase the elusive dream, to chase my full potential, to chase the feeling I get before I go on stage. but every form of that was taken.
I love the symbolism of the butterfly. They have frequently in many cultures been a symbol for the soul, for freedom, and for transformation. I did a little research and came across a really wonderful blurb about the butterfly as a symbol for the soul: "...our journey is our only guarantee. Our responsibility to make our way in faith, accept the change that comes, and emerge from our transitions as brilliantly as the butterfly."** It is frequently associated with Christ's triumph over death in His resurrection and I just love that through Him we have the opportunity to make such a great transformation with our own souls.
Butterflies have always held a certain inspiration for me. There was a time in my life where I became very lost from everything I believed about God, life, and myself. I was very down one day and thinking about everything I had been doing with my life: the choices made and actions taken, knowing they weren't what I had been taught. Suddenly a butterfly flew across my path. Somehow I knew it was meant for me. It was my sign from God that he was there, he was with me, and he knew I was going to be ok. Ever since then, when I see a butterfly, I remember that small epiphany I had. The butterfly became a symbol of God's love and plans for me, much like the rainbow for Noah.
The manifesto part is a little less poignant. Since this would be a written sentiment of my resolve to become a singer, my plight as a starving musician, the opinions I form, the values I adopt. It will all be written here and shared in order to gain support and maybe inspire someone who also wants to live their dream.
So here is this butterfly's manifesto: I am a child of the One True God. I was born to do great things. I was created to show godly love to everyone I come in contact with. I resolve that I will no longer fear. I will meet what God throws at me head on, take it in stride, and pass His tests with flying colors. I will paint my wings with those flying colors as a banner, a beacon to those who have yet to break their cocoon. I want to make a difference in the heart of just one person, who maybe didn't think she could or was afraid to try. My gifts will bring joy to others and my flight will pave the way.
Needless to say, I slept very late today. Got up and tried to do laundry but there are only two washing machines here. So I went to a new deli across the street, discovered sodas, hot sandwiches, canned foods, medicines, even warm hats and mittens in case I'm in a pinch! Love it. I am slowly learning my surroundings.
I also discovered online shopping yesterday. I bought sheets, dogfood, an air purifier and all of these things will be delivered to my doorstep. How convenient!
Since I slept my day away and have nothing really new to report, I figured I would explain why I chose to call this blog Butterfly Manifesto. I got a lot of great suggestions that I liked a lot. Unfortunately, finding a clever blog name that isn't taken already is really difficult! I originally had in mind to call it "Chasing Butterflies." The chase the elusive dream, to chase my full potential, to chase the feeling I get before I go on stage. but every form of that was taken.
I love the symbolism of the butterfly. They have frequently in many cultures been a symbol for the soul, for freedom, and for transformation. I did a little research and came across a really wonderful blurb about the butterfly as a symbol for the soul: "...our journey is our only guarantee. Our responsibility to make our way in faith, accept the change that comes, and emerge from our transitions as brilliantly as the butterfly."** It is frequently associated with Christ's triumph over death in His resurrection and I just love that through Him we have the opportunity to make such a great transformation with our own souls.
Butterflies have always held a certain inspiration for me. There was a time in my life where I became very lost from everything I believed about God, life, and myself. I was very down one day and thinking about everything I had been doing with my life: the choices made and actions taken, knowing they weren't what I had been taught. Suddenly a butterfly flew across my path. Somehow I knew it was meant for me. It was my sign from God that he was there, he was with me, and he knew I was going to be ok. Ever since then, when I see a butterfly, I remember that small epiphany I had. The butterfly became a symbol of God's love and plans for me, much like the rainbow for Noah.
The manifesto part is a little less poignant. Since this would be a written sentiment of my resolve to become a singer, my plight as a starving musician, the opinions I form, the values I adopt. It will all be written here and shared in order to gain support and maybe inspire someone who also wants to live their dream.
So here is this butterfly's manifesto: I am a child of the One True God. I was born to do great things. I was created to show godly love to everyone I come in contact with. I resolve that I will no longer fear. I will meet what God throws at me head on, take it in stride, and pass His tests with flying colors. I will paint my wings with those flying colors as a banner, a beacon to those who have yet to break their cocoon. I want to make a difference in the heart of just one person, who maybe didn't think she could or was afraid to try. My gifts will bring joy to others and my flight will pave the way.
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