Silly Grown-Up, School is for Kids

My dad is desperately hoping this was the last time he had to load up a U-Haul with all of my flea market "treasures" and move me to another city. He's safe for at least another 27 months, if I can handle going straight through this crazy thing called law school with no summer breaks. My apartment is mostly put together, with a few minor exceptions of course, so pictures will be up soon!

I knew this would happen. This big move wouldn't really sink in until I was sitting alone in my own apartment, realizing that I have none of mom's leftovers for dinner and I'm the one responsible for calling maintenance to fix my broken toilet (oh yes, best move-in ever). I'm not sad or lonely, I just kept myself so busy painting this summer that I hadn't quite processed this transition from being home with family and being the teacher to being on my own and a student again. Fortunately, I've done this before (although longer ago than I like to admit.) So, once I shake off the dust I know this is going to be awesome.

Orientation is Wednesday-Friday, and I'm working on the reading assignment I was given to be prepared to discuss first thing. I have been encouraged by the fact that reading a 6 page case about an oil supply company suing ex-employees actually interested me instead of putting me into into a boredom-induced coma. This is a good sign. Another positive omen? Students in my entering class seem eager to make friends as soon as possible. I guess we all know that we are going to need someone to talk us off the ledge at some point in this journey.

I'm excited to see what I can do with what I learn here. It's a beautiful thing to start something completely new and have a front row seat as it all unfolds into something greater than you could have possibly expected. It feels like I am supposed to be here right now, and you can't buy a feeling like that. All of the crazy experiences I have had the fortune of living through--moving to the ghetto in New York, teaching English and Reading to eleven-year-olds, coaching sports I didn't even play and surviving with the help of Google and improv class at ACU, and now law school--are creating a unique collage of a life I never saw coming. And it's so much better than something I would have come up with.

Jack of All Trades

If there are any typos in this post, it's because my keyboard is a little bit rusty. It happens when you don't post in over a year. It's a little embarrassing that 2010 did not see one single update from this blogger, but here is my attempt at a comeback. Fingers crossed that it's as successful as Bon Jovi's.

My last year-ish... abridged:

After moving home from New York in December of 2009, I began searching for the answer to that age-old question-- not "How many licks does it take to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop?", although that question does still eat at me sometimes. I asked myself, "What am I supposed to do with my life now?" Apparently I'll be asking this question well into retirement. But since I had to make some sort of decision, I started doing research. I thought about going to graduate school and was wait-listed for A & M's George Bush School of Government and Public Service. Then I had a change of heart and decided to get my teaching certification and take my LSAT (Law School Admission Test). Here is where things get a little crazy. I am a teacher. They leave me alone in a room with 60 kids and want me to make them smarter. On top of that, I am also a coach. Volleyball, basketball and track are my newest areas of expertise. Sometimes I still wake up and wonder how this is all possible.

I ran a 5K with Benay, read some great books, did more studying than I ever did in college, and dyed my hair red. I spent my summer between teacher school in White Settlement and the swimming pool, wrote a lullabye for Beau, and lost 10 pounds due to my inability to handle the stress of the first few weeks of school. I got a little better at cooking--no exploding cakes this year.

I've adopted my old college sleep schedule just to get everything done, so I'm tired but I'm learning a lot. And if you know anything about me, you know I love to learn. I got to spend Thanksgiving at home for the first time in 3 years, and my family is all within driving distance. Tyler (yep, I'm dating someone, and he's got everybody impressed) moved out to Paducah for the next five months, but as long as he doesn't get hacked up by the Texas Chainsaw Massacre folks in nearby Childress or eaten by one of the 400 pound wild hogs around town, he'll be back this way too. My nephew calls me LuLu, like actually says it. I used to hate it when people called me LuLu growing up, but it's not so bad when he says it. There's no place like home.


I've missed writing. Sample essays are not quite as therapeutic or enjoyable as this. Maybe I'll be a writer when I grow up. And a teacher, a lawyer, a babysitter, a sister, a self-proclaimed chef, an actor, a daughter, a photographer and a runner. I am not someone who likes to limit myself to one or two talents. I guess you could say my love of learning causes me to have commitment issues. Hey, if you don't know where you're supposed to be going, might as well give every open door a chance. I'll get where I'm supposed to be, even if I take the long way around.

I know I skipped some important and exciting things, and didn't go into too much detail. But I've heard it said that it's good to leave 'em wanting more.

Happy 2011

Not A Creature Was Stirring...Except For A Mouse

I don't think there will ever be another Thanksgiving quite like this one. For the first time in my life, I faced spending a major holiday--one centered around spending time with people, no less--completely alone. Before you start tuning your violin for me, allow me to say that this was an experience I'll never forget. And I don't mean in the I'll-remember-this-because-it-was-so-terribly-emotionally-scarring kind of way. It was wonderful, and different, and special. I started the day before the day actually started, at 3:30 a.m., at which time I started cooking my Thanksgiving meal and bundling up. I got to the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade at about 6:15 am, and I wasn't the first person there either. I found a spot on 57th Street and 7th Avenue on the front row, and parked myself there for the next 5 1/2 hours. I had to pass the time somehow, so I struck up conversation with my new neighbors. I was standing beside an Assistant Principal of an Alternative School in the Bronx and his 4-year-old daughter who wants to grow up to take Al Roker's job at NBC. She's certainly prettier than him. To my left was a family from North and South Carolina. The grandmother was named Pat, and she talked to me about how she had lived in New York City in her 20's and was a dancer. She danced with Ethel Merman at a Summerstock theatre one year, and got to sing once with Burt Bacharach. How many people can say that? She also invited me to spend Thanksgiving with her family if I didn't want to spend it alone, and told me she would be praying for me. There are still nice people in the world.

I have watched the parade every year for as long as I can remember, but I never imagined how different it would be watching it on the sidewalk instead of the tv screen. There was a man standing across the street from me who started singing Christmas Carols, and much to my surprise, everyone started joining in. Thousands of random strangers were standing shoulder to shoulder, outside, in the New York November, and singing Christmas Carols together. You can't make this stuff up. And then, the parade started. I always knew the balloons were big, but guys, the balloons....are BIG. The people in the parade were chunking confetti at us and yelling Happy Thanksgiving like they just might mean it, and the marching bands kept the beat as the parade marched on.I got to see some really great celebrities, and the ones I didn't know, it turns out, were Disney kids. I learned that from the shrieking 9 year-old girl behind me who kept saying stuff about Hannah Montana.

After the parade I went back to my apartment, hoping it was still standing after I left food cooking there all morning. When I opened the door, it smelled like Thanksgiving. Brandon set up Skype at my parent's house--that's software that lets you do things like video chat. He sat me on the dining room table and I got to "eat" with Mom, Dad, Mary, Brandon and Beau. So, thanks to technology, I didn't spend Thanksgiving alone after all. I spent the rest of the day with Gene Kelly, John Candy and a pint of Cherry Garcia ice cream. I watched "Trains, Planes and Automobiles," "Pieces of April," and "An American in Paris". I've got the pictures from the parade in a Facebook album. Here's a link if you want to check them out:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2092578&id=54600565&l=9534b78940

When Jen got back from her Thanksgiving in Jersey, we got a Christmas tree, some garland and some twinkling lights and decorated for Christmas. We hand-painted some ornaments earlier, and hung them on the tree while listening to Christmas music. Then, we called it a night...or so we thought.

Sunday night, after falling asleep at a decent hour for once, I awoke at 1:45 a.m. to Jenavene's timid whisper at my door--"Lindsey? Um, I think we have a mouse." That woke me up. We turned on the lights and saw the mouse scurry across the kitchen floor, so we left to get some traps at CVS. Since we'd been gone about 10 minutes, we weren't sure where our furry friend had scampered off to, so we started kicking things around and, turns out, he was in Jen's room. And she found mouse poop by her pillow. So it ran out of Jen's room, back into the kitchen, and we started planting our traps around the baseboards. Jen crawled into bed with me that night, and we hadn't been asleep 15 minutes before I heard a trap snap in the kitchen. We catapulted across the living room and peeked into the kitchen to see the mouse's tail and back leg caught in one of the old school trap's we'd set (not one of the fancier, more humane ones). But since the little creeper wasn't dead, we had a problem on our hands...how in the world were we going to get that thing outside? While we were debating, the squealer starting darting for his hiding place behind the fridge, so we threw a box on top of him. We thought about leaving him there until the Super could come in the morning...but we'd spent so much time and energy shrieking and jumping on chairs that we wanted that thing out of our apartment before it could figure out a way out of its trap. Plus, the mouse finally figured out his time on this earth was nearing an end, and he started scratching and squeaking and flailing around in the box. So we devised a plan--I put on my rain boots and and got a bigger box with a lid and Jen grabbed the broom. On the count of 3, Jen tried to scoot the smaller box into the bigger box I was propping up on the floor. Well, the best laid plans of mice and men...

The box scooted without the mouse. You know those stories about how people have lifted cars off of small children when they really needed to? In case you were curious, same theory holds true for mice. That fuzz ball got his tail out of the trap! Fortunately, his leg was still caught. But we were all so stunned for a moment, mouse included, that none of us moved. *Cue The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly theme music* The mouse moved first, but Jen's reflexes were fast. She reared back and knocked that mouse, trap and all, into the big box. I flipped it over and slammed down the lid. Jen took the initiative and picked up the box while I ran ahead opening doors and shouting encouragement. We took it to the farthest outdoor trashcan from our apartment, and after Jen gave the box a few good shakes, threw the box with the mouse with the trap in the can. In hindsight, I wish someone had been there to film it. From now on, I will refer to Jen as Gretzky.

Two and a half weeks until I'm back in God's Country where there are stars, and thunderstorms, and queso is a word that people understand.

Connecting the Dots

New Yorkers don't like tourists. Tourists clog up the already jam-packed streets, ambling along in clumps because they've heard horror stories from legitimate sources of how easy it is to get kidnapped and chopped into bite-size pieces--these legitimate sources consisting mostly of Law and Orders and CSIs. Somehow, New Yorkers tend to forget that, while it's annoying that people are too busy looking at the flashy lights to watch where they're going, tourists are most likely the reason they are employed. This week, like the actor I am, I played the part of tourist. My friend Donovan and I went to the Statue of Liberty and to Ellis Island. I looked up some of my family in the records database and found quite a few matches. I'll have to go back and spend some more time there when I've got some more detailed information. We also went to Chinatown, where I bought a cute knitted head scarf, 2 bootleg DVDs, and a Coach purse that a Chinese man pulled out of the ceiling. Go ahead, re-read that last sentence...I promise it's true.

We celebrated my friend Jonathan's 26th Birthday by going to see Where The Wild Things Are at an IMAX movie theatre, then going to the Guggenheim museum on its 50th Anniversary celebration where Kandinsky was on display. Here, I could profess some deep insights on art and Kandinsky's genius. But you all know me well enough to know that I would have copied and pasted something from Wikipedia. In spite of my lack of art knowledge, it was fun at the Guggenheim. After a quick dinner at Tasty's Diner, we headed back to my apartment for presents and Strawberry Cream Cheese Cake.


Jenavene's parents, Adam and Donna, came to visit over the weekend. They fed us and stocked up our pantry. They also got me hooked on a new TV show called Modern Family--if you haven't watched it, allow Hulu.com to introduce you.

Yesterday I spent most of the rainy day playing with GarageBand, a recording software that came with my MacBook. For Memaw's birthday (Happy Birthday Memaw!) I recorded a few hymns. The first 4 tracks I sang all of the parts by myself and just overlapped them, but I wanted the last track to be special. I've recently gotten into studying my family history, and Memaw was kind enough to give me a song that was written by my great great grandmother, Izora, and had never been sung. Jenavene, Jonathan, Seth and I worked on it and recorded it for her. It's a beautiful hymn. A strange mix of pride and humility came with recording this song. I had heard a few things about this distant relative of mine, a woman who was a publish poet, an artist like me. It was a privilege to breathe life into the music written from her heart and indescribably satisfying to connect to someone I like to think I must "take after". You can listen to it here...I had to create a slideshow and upload the song as a video, so here are a couple of pictures from the last month and a half:

You Can Take The Girl Out Of Texas...

Five a.m. came exceptionally early on Tuesday morning, having slept restlessly due to an all-to-familiar mix of anticipation, excitement and nerves. I had no idea what to expect on a T.V. set, and I was thankful that out of a database of over 25,000 people, my friend Will and I got called for the same job. I like to think that was more than just coincidence. We met at the train platform at 6 am, each lugging our cumbersome suitcases filled with wardrobe changes for the day. One train ride, 5 streets, and 5 seemingly endless avenues later, we were filling out Non-Union Vouchers in the holding room at Pier 92, the first location of the day. Pier 92 was transformed into JFK airport for the first scene. We moved to one other location during the day and had two wardrobe changes. It was cold, we were outside and on our feet for 10 hours (5 of which I spent in 4 inch heels...never again.) and we were not allowed to even wait in line for food at lunch until all of the Union people had filled their plates. And I loved it. Maybe I should get my head checked.

I got on the good side of one of the Production Assistants who was in charge of placing the extras and giving us business to do, so I got seen in pretty much every shot. The show is a new HBO series called "How To Make It In America." So if you have HBO, you may see me walking across your screen during a few of the episodes. Even though we were sort of treated like the JV team and I got a good sense of how the lepers might have felt back in the day, I learned that I like being on a movie set. It's got a cool vibe, it's hard work, and it's something I'll probably try a few more times.

Jen and I will do anything to get out of the house at the moment--the temperature recently took a nose dive and apparently our landlord didn't get the memo, since our heat still hasn't been turned on. Thursday afternoon we had a late lunch with fellow ACU alum Lyndsey Goode, the wonderful woman who let me ASM with her for those Off-Broadway readings last year. We ate at a bistro called "La Pan Quotidian", which is French for "Our Daily Bread". She's currently stage managing a show on Theatre Row, so I may get to watch her show for free pretty soon. Later that night, due to the bleak and rainy weather, Seth and Jon came over for a waffle dinner in our PJ's and "Love Actually".

Today Jen, Seth, Donovan (another ACU friend) and I went to a restaurant called Stout to watch the Texas/OU game. This place is 4 stories tall, and it was packed with close to 500 Longhorn fans. We had so much fun! Everyone was very friendly. It made it feel a little more like home knowing that there are so many good old southern folk taking over the city.

Other than that, I'm just job hunting, submitting to auditions, and working on photography. I miss you guys!!

With a Cherry On Top

Sunday was another church visiting day. The idea of worshipping idols has always had this distant, antiquated feeling to me. It was a sin that I never really worried about because I never saw myself sitting in front of a golden statue of a cow or giving all the glory to some concrete figurine. It never crossed my mind that the term "idol" could be anything other than the worship of a physical being or object. The preacher at the second church I visited on Sunday put a different spin on it for me. He asked "What is it that you get defensive about? What, if it were taken away from you, would cause you to feel like there was nothing left to live for? Like you were a failure and your life lost its meaning?" He also spoke about how an idol is anything that promises you some sort of salvation, and that New York was the world's number one seller of these life-affirming, dream-fulfilling promises. I wish I had a recording of that sermon because I think it's something I might want to listen to every morning before I leave the house. I'll spare you the dense cloud of thoughts this sermon caused for me and suffice it to say that, among other things, it caused me to evaluate where I put my self worth, what exactly I was striving to acheive here, and what idols I need to dethrone.

I finally, after much trepidation, submitted my first photography assignment to The Photography Institute. My tutor graded it and wrote me back within 24 hours and gave me a 100! I bought myself this amazing cupcake thing from a Greek bakery in my neighborhood and a Diet Coke to celebrate. Also pictures: me --proving that I am incapable of eating anything with whipped cream on it without getting it all over my face.

Also, my roommate just got cast as one of the leads in the Lincoln Center's "Babes In Toyland", so the past week has been quite a successful one for my apartment.

I'm still job searching (I've applied to probably 20 jobs already, to no avail) and I've submitted to about as many auditions. Only time will tell, so keep me in your prayers!

Just for kicks, here's a picture of Jenavene and I:

I'm being reminded, daily, to be humble and grateful for the blessings I've been given. There is a homeless man who stays near my subway stop. His name is Chris, and he is one of the kindest people I've ever met. And he's one of the happiest, too. He's a daily reminder that, although I dream big and make all sorts of plans, God is all I need here. He'll get me to where he wants me, in His time. All I have to do is be patient, serve Him, and take the journey He's prepared for me. It gets hard not to compare my journey to other peoples', not to get impatient or wonder why it seems that some people have it so easy. I have to remind myself that every journey is different, that I'm right where I need to be. My life is a piece of cake. A piece of cake with lots of icing and a cherry on top... :)

A Little Something Extra

New York decided to skip Fall this year. We've gone from 80 degrees to a blistery 55 in the span of 4 days. The good news? I've got my love to keep me warm.

I've been getting pretty acquainted with my surroundings. Our neighbors who live in the apartment in front of us are Brazilian and spend a lot of their time screaming in Portuguese at the soccer matches on TV. It can be quite entertaining. We found a little cafe that has 25 cent wings on Wednesdays, lots of fabulous pizza joints, and one of my favorite parts--rice pudding is everywhere. I love the Greeks.

I went to a Bible study on Monday night called Haven. It's a group of artists that meet every Monday for 2 hours and look at the Bible from an artistic perspective. We had an hour of worship, then broke into small groups to discuss. The subject this semester is "Seasons", and the topic of the month is "Beauty in Seasons". Imagine that--artists pondering the beauty of things. In my group we had 2 actors, 2 writers, one photographer, one freelance producer, and 2 singer/songwriters. Talk about good networking. They also give you some great ideas for service opportunities as well as ways to get involved in the arts in the city.

I spent about an hour on Tuesday registering with Central Casting Agency, an LA/NY company that hires background actors for film, TV and commercial work. So one of these days, you will be sitting in the dark movie theatre watching credits roll...and somewhere toward the end, you will see "Girl On Bench...Lindsey Lehrmann". Or maybe even something more glamorous, such as "Lady Who Bumped Into George Clooney". The sky's the limit, folks.

We live fairly close to Astoria Park, so I took a jog around the perimeter yesterday and pretty much fell in love with the place. It's quiet, and the view is stunning. However, as winter seems to be approaching rather fast this year, it may be several months before I get to do that again.

Below I've posted some pictures of my friends and I at a restaurant to prove that A) I am alive, B) I am eating, and C)...I have attractive friends. Enjoy!

Apartment Pics

As promised, here are a few after-ish photos of our apartment. We've still got some things to hang up, pictures to develop, and a kitchen table to get, but I think you can get the idea from these.

Jenavene's room

Our studio room (we haven't done anything with this yet, obviously)

The kitchen (which we also have done nothing with)

View from the living room, looking into the studio room

Living room again- door to the right is my room

Back wall of the living room

View from my door into my room. Behind the curtain are some built in shelves. That;s my closet on the left, which is pretty spacious (all things considered). Hey, at least I have a closet this time. 

My "window". It goes straight into this storage room we have, which is now Jenavene's closet

I know, the walls are so bare, ha. I'm working on it though.

Got that gorgeous gold frame off of the street, just waiting to be collected by the trash guys.Won that wine rack (or in my case, apple cider rack) from eBay for 99 cents. Pretty lucky eh? Love my bedspread (thanks mom!).

I should have probably put up some "before" pictures. I guess just pretend all the walls are a nasty yellow-white color and that there's absolutely nothing but a refrigerator in it. It's a pretty good size apartment, my only complaint being that the bathroom is teeny. Anyway, it's a work in progress but we're getting all settled in. We're on the 2nd floor of a 2 story building. It's basically like a 2 story house that was converted into 2 separate apartments. Two of our ACU friends live below us, one of which I'm going to church with later today (yes! a church buddy!) 

I'm liking this neighborhood more everyday. People here are friendly, even though quite a few of them don't speak much English. We live very close to the subway platform and to 2 of the busiest streets in the neighborhood, so pretty much everything we need is within a 5 block radius. We're the last stop on the N/W line, and it's considered one of the safest stops in the whole city. Jenavene and Seth went out of town this weekend for a wedding in New Jersey, so I had the whole apartment to myself. I got to see a Broadway show for free, thanks to another ACU alum. I'm looking forward to going on some auditions and getting a job. It's already starting to get a little chilly, but I love the fall here. I'll keep you updated as things happen!

Concrete Jungle, Take 2

The eagle has landed. After a relatively easy flight--relative to the fiasco I went through with Expedia last Christmas-- my cabbie took me to my new hood where Jenavene met me curbside. After heaving my luggage up two flights of steep stairs, I was given the semi-grand tour of the neighborhood on our way to the boys' apartment. During that 5 block walk, I got my first taste of the Greek culture here. There was a block party down the street with people of all ages, families sitting on their porches who were talking to other families sitting on their porches, and not one person was rude. In 5 blocks. I feel like I should call Guiness and get them to record that in their next edition of world records. There were also no gun shots, no fist fights, no stab wounds, and no nicknames referring to my skin color. So far, so awesome.

Jen, Jonathan and I ate at a little dinner called Tasty's Diner (and rightfully so), then went back to my apartment. I'm going to get paint later today, and I'm about to go meet Jenavene to go to Ikea. So once the apartment is a little more put together, I'll take pictures and post them here. In short, this is starting out on the right foot. Keep me in your prayers and I promise to keep you posted. 

The Shortest Distance Between Two People

This morning I awoke to the delightful sound of a shovel scraping against pavement. Alarm clock companies should really consider adding that sound to their repertoire of annoying wake-up noises. Finding the courage to venture out from beneath my electric blanket, I tip-toed over to my window. Thick layers of snow blanketed the ground and all of the cars. This meant that my subway was probably either not running, or experiencing delays. While my parents were grilling steaks outside, I was snowed in. What a way to be welcomed back to the city.  

My flight was delayed an hour, but at least there were no geese in my engines. I grabbed a cabbie who wasn't angry about taking me to Brooklyn because, as I later found out, he was born and raised there.  While he was helping me with my luggage, some of that good old southern hospitality slipped out of my mouth and I asked, "How are you?" Instead of the expected cold shoulder, I got a slight moment of shock and a grateful,"Doin' aight. Thanks." His stereotypical Brooklyn accent was so thick that I was tempted to reply with a "Fuggetaboutit"...but I resisted and climbed into the back seat. I told him the address and we were on our way. 

Cabbies always ask you which route you want to take. This is how they figure out if they can cheat you out of money or not. If you don't know which way is faster (and therefore cheaper for you), then you'll be paying for your cabbie's gourmet dinner that night. When the cabbie popped the inevitable question, instead of faking it I decided to tell him that I'd only been living here for a few months and wasn't really sure which way to go. It was all in his hands. As he was the first cabbie who wasn't rude to me, I was genuinely interested in talking with him and continued to initiate pleasant conversation as we rode along. About 5 minutes into the ride, my cabbie grew a conscience and "suddenly" remembered a shortcut to my apartment. While he followed the route of his sudden premonition, I asked about how he liked the city, what it was like to be a cabbie, etc. We talked about Texas and how he'd visited there and didn't understand how so many foods could be fried. Before I knew it, my cabbie was telling me about his funniest and angriest moments as a driver, reminiscing about the city before the rampant gentrification, and giving me advice about the safest places to live and how to keep from getting jipped by realtors, cabbies, and street vendors.

As my strangely short drive came to a close, the grand total only a little over 30 dollars (as opposed to the usual 50 plus), my cabbie grabbed my luggage and carried it to the curb for me. And then, he thanked me. He thanked me for being friendly, for not treating him like he was beneath me and for holding a genuine conversation with him. He said had I not been a nice person, he "wouldn't have cheated ya, just wouldn'ta provided chu wit my expertise." :) 

My experience with the cabbie reminded me of a quote from the movie Crash. "In any real city, you walk, you know? You brush past people, people bump into you. Nobody touches you. We're all behind this metal and glass. I think we miss that touch so much, that we crash into each other, just so we can feel something."  Making real connections with people, no matter how small or how brief,  is so important. Try to remember to bless someone with a little bit of kindness, and you may be rewarded in more ways than one.  

Go Big or Go Home...How About Both?!

Flying home on Christmas Eve was looking increasingly like a bad idea as each frigid day passed and my itinerary flight changed for the third time, so I opted to changed my Expedia ticket from December 24th to December 9th. I arrived an hour and 45 minutes early for my flight, only to find out that Delta and Expedia had conflicting ideas of when I was allowed to go home. After battling with both Delta and Expedia, neither of whom particularly seemed to care about my predicament, I had to call a cab company and head back home to try to find an alternate flight. While I was contemplating whether or not I would make it home for Christmas, my mom was taking care of business with Expedia and got me on a flight the very next day. Just try to stand between a mom and her child...take THAT, Expedia.



I received the grand tour of my parents' new home, which, as I was forewarned, looks eerily like our old house. This house, however, has two big bonus features: a pool, and a two-story playhouse. My mom couldn't wait to show me how cute the playhouse was, in spite of the fact that it was about 12:30 am. I think that most of you know what happened here, so I'll leave you with the short version of the story. Mom decided to reenact Jack and Jill, except for instead of tumbling down the hill, she flew down the stairs...chin first. My mom's hang time would put Michael Jordan to shame. It was pretty scary to watch, and after she hit the ground she took a few seconds before she moved or made any noise. When she finally showed signs of life and we determined that no fatal injuries were sustained, we took my mom to the ER. Two days of liquids and three days of mushy foods later, my mom was back to cooking enough solid foods to feed the nearest third world country...or starving actor.



Although the first leg of my journey home was a bit rough around the edges, I am so grateful for this 5 week vacation. Most of my time here has been spent catching up on my VH1 countdowns, hanging out with family and old friends, and enjoying the green, green grass of home. The Monday before Christmas, most of the members from Sweet Peace got together and went Christmas carolling. Without prior rehearsal, we sang the same 2 or 3 songs over and over....and over and over. We were only brave enough to go to our parents' houses, the last of which was the Stewart's. Of course, we ended up singing some of the old medleys from LTC by the end of the night.


I wasn't sure if I'd ever get to see all of my family in the same room again, since everyone's getting older and busier. But this year, everybody made it to Christmas. One of the hardest things to deal with in the city is being away from my family, so I took as many mental pictures as my brain could hold...the space is pretty limited, but I think I did alright.

New Year's Eve rolled around, and after a few rousing games of Catch Phrase with the Martin's, the Price's, the Brandon Lehrmann's, and my parents, we all watched the ball drop in NYC. In that moment, watching the thousands of red-nosed faces shivering together in Times Square, I was glad to be in the magical land of Texas, where 75 degree weather still exists.

My resolution this year is to "be active." Not just physically active, but active in the everyday decisions in my life. I'm working hard to not just dream big, but actually do big. I've got my roots here, the place that keeps me grounded and will never let me down. But the current under my wings, at least for now, is pushing me back to Brooklyn. It will be hard to leave again, but I can go back with the assurance that I've got somewhere to land whenever I need a break.

Turkey Lurkey Doo, Turkey Lurkey Dap, I Eat That Turkey And I Take A Nap

Well the weather outside is frightful...
And I'm sure a fire would be quite delightful, if I could afford a fireplace in my apartment. :)

In all seriousness, it's been cold and rainy here for a while now, with the exception of the 65 degree Thanksgiving Day we had. People played football out in the streets while we watched football inside the apartment. Because cooking is harder than Rachael Ray makes it out to be, we had to catch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade on TV this year like everyone else. Maybe next year we'll be able to catch it in person. We ended up having 8 people show up, so it felt almost like Thanksgiving with our families. Almost. Kara and I cooked up a pretty big feast, and sustained only a few minor injuries in the process. Although, I confess, I did explode one cake because I put too much batter into one pan. When we weren't watching football, we played Three Person Charades and listened to Christmas music. Here are a few pictures:
The Feast
Three Person Charades
Jonathan gracing us with a solo performance
Kara made the turkey dance. It made her less afraid to touch a dead animal.
My Turtle Cheesecake
More charades
Nadia, Shae, Jonathan and I at Trump Tower
I don't know what look we were going for here
Nadia and I eating at Spring Street Natural
This is supposed to be busy season for catering, but I've only got 2 jobs remaining for the month. I had 6, but 4 of them have been canceled due to the state of the economy. Needless to say, catering seemed too good to be true and, thanks to the Lehman Brothers, it is. After Christmas break, I'll be back on the job hunt.

Tonight at 7 pm is the Rockefeller Christmas Tree lighting, so my roommate and I are going to go participate in the festivities. I would be lying if I said that Beyonce's performance isn't one of the main reasons I'm going. Miley Cyrus and The Jonas Brothers are supposed to be there, too. I'll be sure to write about it in my next post.

Three weeks and counting till I'm back in the Lone Star State. I can't wait to see everyone!!

Baracking Around The Clock

In the days following one of the most groundbreaking elections in our nation's history, my normally divided neighborhood changed drastically. The racial (and gender) slurs stopped, people made eye contact on the street and some even mumbled a "hello". A lady held the door open for me on the way to the subway and I almost had to pinch myself. Not that people are usually rude, they're just trying to be invisible. Everybody goes about their own business. For a little while, people were united. I'm sure my experience with this election would have been quite different had I been somewhere else. But here, in a poor neighborhood where many people had decided they didn't matter, that their voice was not heard and their vote did not count, this election was more than a page in history. When Obama was announced as the new president-elect, I could hear cheers from every direction. I sat up in my windowsill and watched streams of people exit their apartment buildings and flooding the streets, banging pots and pans and creating an impromptu rally for the future president. If you saw what I saw, no matter who you voted for, you would have been inspired by the sudden change, the restoration of hope among people who felt forgotten. The party was still going on when I drifted off to sleep. No longer in my windowsill, mind you.

In other news, my friend Caleb from college came to visit last weekend. We did almost every tourist thing imaginable, all in 3 days. To name a few, We checked out the Empire State Building, walked across the Brooklyn Bridge, and we saw "All My Sons" starring John Lithgow, Dianne Wiest, Patrick Wilson and Katie Holmes. It's a horribly depressing show, but it was wonderful. Every time I watch a show, I still wish it was me up there on that stage. As long as I feel that way, I can't ( and won't) stop trying to be a professional actor.

As payment for my assistant stage managing "The Cenci" for the Red Bull Theater, Lyndsey took me to The Rockette Christmas Spectacular at Radio City Music Hall. Precision dancing at its finest. And yes, they really do kick that high...I was sitting on the second row and was a tad worried that one poorly buckled shoe might be headed for my face. We also got some 3-D action, flying with Santa all over New York City. The show sure put me in the holiday mood. Kara and I are hosting Thanksgiving at our apartment for everyone we know who couldn't go home this year. So far, I think we have 10 people coming. I'm in charge of the baking, so send me your recipes...and all of your luck.

Thanks for all of your cards, emails, and messages (text, facebook and otherwise). I save all my messages and keep all my cards in a box under my bed to pull out when I get homesick or lonely. I'm going to make you proud :) Miss and love you all!

Keeping the Faith

Still here, in case you were curious. My allergies tried to take me down for awhile, but they were no match for hot chocolate, old movies, and my electric blanket. I had my first audition tonight for an Off-Broadway show called "The Awesome 80's Prom". I showed up, waited 4 hours, and didn't even get to read. I was "typed out", which basically means they looked at my headshot, and based on that alone, didn't think I was what they were looking for. What a lovely career I have chosen.

I went back to Central Park last week with Jonathan to see if the leaves started changing yet, but no such luck. We actually walked all the way from Canal Street to the park...which is about 60 blocks, and by the time we decided to exit the park we were on East 90th. That's a lot of walking. I still have blisters, but I didn't feel so bad about eating pizza that night. Here's a picture of us at Sheep's Meadow in the park.



On Monday, I Assistant Stage Managed for the Red Bull Theater again for a reading of "The Cenci". It was a relatively painless experience and I might even get a free ticket to see the Rockette's Christmas Spectacular out of it. One of the actors had to leave for a while to go to an audition, so I got to fill in. I think I did quite well, considering I was playing an Italian man. Sorry you all missed my Off Broadway debut :)


I'd like to take a moment to talk about Halloween. I assumed that people in the city would be too stuck up to indulge in Halloween festivities. I.Was.Wrong. I saw hundreds of people in some of the most outrageous, nonsensical costumes on the planet. The thing about Halloween in NY is, you don't necessarily know if the weirdo sitting next to you is in costume or their everyday wear. There is also a huge parade in The Village where people march around in elaborate costumes they possibly spent months creating. My roommate and I opted out of the parade to see a free Off Broadway show called "Farragut North", starring Chris Noth (Mr. Big on Sex and the City), John Gallagher Jr. (Tony Award winner from Spring Awakening), and Olivia Thirlby (the best friend from Juno), among others. Kara's head of her department was also in the show, so we stuck around afterward and got to meet the actors and talk with them for a while. Afterward, we grabbed a slice of pizza (a staple in my current diet), came home and made some popcorn balls and watched the original Psycho.

It has been a pretty relaxing couple of weeks. I'm still sending in lots of submissions for auditions, so hopefully I will land one that will actually allow me to speak :) Now that I've done one audition, I feel much better about pounding the pavement for more. It's not nearly as scary as I supposed. I'm far from giving up, so keep believing in me folks! I'm on my way!

Do You Smell What Barack is Cooking?

A faint stench permeates the smoggy air of the city. It's not the rats...at least not in the traditional sense anyway. It's the smell of politics, and as election day looms ever closer, it thickens and spreads into every corner of the city. I have always felt rather removed from election business, only bothered by it when I chose to flip on the TV to watch a debate or happened to drive by a yard sign. But here, politics are unavoidable. I would expect to encounter the unabashed preachings of campaign teams in places like Union Square or Washington Square, where rallies are continually held for one cause or another. But the most surprising choice for a soap box has been the subway. I cannot sit down on a train car (if I were ever lucky enough to actually get a seat in the first place) without hearing someone strike up a conversation with his neighbor about Joe Six Pack...or is it Joe the Plumber? Flyers, T-shirts, and, yes, even condoms are being passed out that are plastered with the faces of the presidential candidates. I am often passed up because people think I look too young to vote, but I am never spared their speeches on foreign policy, medical care, and tax breaks. I am beginning to think I could qualify to be a political correspondent for CNN or Fox News.


Even cooler than Election Tuesday is Free Tuesday at the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens. The Gardens are only about 4 blocks from my apartment, and I can walk straight through Prospect Park to get there. Jonathan Prim and I spent a few hours walking through it. An entire garden is dedicated to roses. There is also a Shakespeare Garden that is comprised of plants and flowers mentioned in the works of the Bard. The whole thing is stunning, I'm planning on going back in the spring to take pictures when everything is blooming instead of dying. Little gems like this keep Gotham City interesting. I forgot my camera (ugh), but here are 2 that I snagged from Jonathan.



We also went to Battery Park, which is where you go to take the ferry to the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island. I'm saving the trip to Ellis Island, I want to devote an entire day to it. I snapped a quick pick of Lady Liberty below...she's kind of hard to see, but she's on the left:





In other news, I journeyed to the West Village on a mission to take some pictures of something inspiring. On a plain chain-link fence that guards a police station, I found it. Tiles For America is a September 11th memorial. People from all around the world decorated tiles with words of encouragement, prayers, memories, names of the deceased, and messages of hope. Some of them just painted something beautiful in honor of those who perished. All of these tiles were collected and hung on this rusty fence on West 11th street, and there they perch as a reminder, as a challenge, as as a plea to those who pass to strive for a better world. I'll let a few of the pictures do the rest of the talking.

Desperate HouseLives

This has been a long but very exciting week and a half. First, I found out that I'm going to be an aunt. Second, I met Tom Cruise, Katie Holmes, and Suri. Since I'm sure you can guess how the first thing happened, allow me to explain the second.

Katie is in a play on Broadway right now ("All My Sons") and Monday is Broadway's day off. She brought Suri to the restaurant while I was hostessing. She and Suri were already upstairs when I got there, but imagine my surprise when the first person I greet at Alice's is Tom Cruise, surrounded by flashes from cameras of 50 paparazzi and fans waiting outside. I have no idea how everyone knew they were coming...I work there and I didn't even know. They had the whole second floor to themselves, but they brought Suri downstairs and let her walk around the restaurant to look at all of the Alice in Wonderland pictures and merchandise. Katie even wore some of our fairy wings in the restaurant. They were such nice people, and it was cool to see them playing with Suri. Tom even shook hands with my manager and I before leaving. The story is everywhere on the internet if you want to see some pictures.

An old friend of mine brought up a good point when, after reading my blog, she told me in a Facebook message, "Isn't it funny how we all find entertainment in each others' lives?" Meeting Tom and Katie made me think about the millions of people worldwide who bought their US Weekly or watched Entertainment Tonight and found the most exciting part of their day to be news of TomKat leaving a quaint New York restaurant. What's ironic, to me, is that Tom and Katie worked so hard to be where they are, whether they like it now or not. And now, they are trying desperately to have just one dinner, one moment of normalcy as a family. And those of us who aren't stalked by television crews spend our time blogging about them and wishing we could have the whole top floor of the restaurant shut down for us. We are all curious about each other. It's my belief that this is partly why all art forms are as revered and addicting as they are. We love to explore our options, to see what life might be like in a different time or place, under different circumstances. We love to wonder "what if", even when we are completely happy with where we are in life.

Mark Twain put it best when he said, "There was never yet an uninteresting life. Such a thing is an impossibility. Inside of the dullest exterior there is a drama, a comedy, and a tragedy." Here you are, reading the blog of a girl who has done nothing so far except try to reach for the stars, and who hasn't so much as lifted a foot off the ground yet. And I love to read or hear stories about home, about trips to the lake for three day weekends or what size the developing babies are, how business is doing and the concerts you go to. Perhaps this chronic restlessness, this insatiable curiosity about the human condition, is what keeps us moving on from one seemingly dull day to the next. Perhaps we all want to live life so much, that one life is just not enough.

Bat Mitzvahs, Brooklyn, and Beyond

The city is kissing summer goodbye. How nice it will be not to stand on crowded subways with sweaty people who aren't accustomed to the heat. Yep, it's autumn in New York, and I'm excited to see if it's all Billie Holiday said its cracked up to be.

Friday was my first full day off of work in 2 weeks, and I was as lazy as humanly possible. Friday aside, I've been splitting my time between Food For Thought and Alice's Tea Cup. Alice's is getting easier everyday, thanks to the cool people I work with (most of whom are actors, designers, or writers). It takes me about an hour and 15 minutes to get there from my apartment, so when I have the opening shift I have to leave by 6:15 am. I'm missing my senior year college days when 10 am was early and the only consequence of oversleeping was possible chapel probation. My current subway reading is "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn". I'm still trying to figure out where that tree went.

I've catered two events for Food For Thought that are worth noting. The first was a bat mitzvahs for a wealthy family in New Jersey. Kelly Ripa was there. Regis, however, was not. The second event was for former basketball star Alonzo Mourning's charities. Not only was Alonzo there, but Patrick Ewing, Dwayne Wade, Nate Robinson, Quinten Richardson, John Starks, Earl Monroe, Herb Williams, Craig Sager, and Chris Rock's wife (random, but true) were also among the folk who put their trash on my little silver tray as I walked around the room. Not exactly what I had in mind when I dreamed of rubbing elbows with the stars.

For the first time in my life, I find myself trying not to be too good at what I'm doing. Allow me to explain. It's not that I want to be bad at it, seeing as I don't want to get fired... it's just that I don't want to be promoted or be considered a "professional" at hostessing or waitressing. If I get too good at it, if it becomes second nature to me, then I will have unknowingly created my very own fall back plan. Not completely loving my jobs is what motivates me to keep auditioning until I get to do what I really want. I never thought I had it in me to shoot for mediocrity, even in things I didn't really care about. Viewing these jobs as just a way to get by helps me keep living beyond...beyond picking up peoples' trash, beyond passing out menus and recommending teas, beyond where I am and what I have right now. I don't need (or want, for that matter) to be famous. I just want to do work that I can be proud of, work that can teach, inform, or simply entertain. I like to think that there's something more to my life than working a bat mitzvahs, that somewhere just over the horizon, something better awaits. And all I have to do to get there is keep truckin.

"That's what momma always says. She says that beginnings are scary, endings are usually sad, but it's the middle that counts the most. Try to remember that when you find yourself at a new beginning. Just give hope a chance to float up. And it will... "--Hope Floats

These Boots Are Made For Strolling

First of all, my apologies for not writing in a while…you can uncross your arms and stop tapping your foot now.

Some of my time this past week and a half was spent at my first 2 catering events, one for each company. Food For Thought was in Long Island for this huge company called Rex Corp, who apparently owns almost the entire island. I had a pretty simple job as a h’ourderve passer, and the people I worked with were really helpful. When we were done, I sampled some Grecian Lamb with Sour Cherry Chutney Sauce, Duck Nacho with Avocado Sauce, Miniature Chocolate Souffle with Cremon Sauce, Sweet Thai Chili Lobster Skewers with Mango, and that was only half of the menu. Sound snooty enough for you? I thought of people back home who would have thrown the skewers at my head and instructed me not to return without enchiladas or a steak. The only downside to the night was that I burned both of my thumbs lighting votive candles…which were outside…in the wind…which, logic would tell us, means that they would blow out, right? Apparently, lit candles were of utmost importance to this crazy corporate lady throwing the party, so I had to relight them when they blew out. I had blisters on my fingers for a week, but all in all I loved this catering company.

My Great Performances event was far less laid back and far less understanding. Highlight of the night: the fact that the wedding we were catering cost over 600,000 dollars. It was a Korean girl and an Italian guy, so they actually had 2 ceremonies- a traditional American ceremony and a traditional Korean ceremony. The kids partied from noon-11 PM...and they certainly had to pay for it. They had cocktails, followed by a 5 station buffet, followed by a 2 course dinner, followed by coffee and about 10 dessert choices. GP is not a bad company, but after working this event with them I decided that they’re just not right for me.

When I wasn’t serving shrimp to the trust fund babies and desperate housewives of the tri-state area, I was Assistant Stage Managing for the Red Bull Theater Company. Red Bull Theater is an Off-Broadway company that focuses on plays with heightened language. This was just a staged reading that people paid a lot of money to come hear so that the theatre could raise some money. An ACU alumnus, Lyndsey Goode, got me the job. The reading was held in a legit theatre space above an Episcopal Church. The cast consisted of several accomplished stage actors, including Reg Rogers (Tony nominee) and Michael Urie (who now plays Marc St. James on “Ugly Betty”).The job was easy enough, I got to listen to the best play reading I have ever heard, and I got to play with a wireless headset. It made me feel important.

Since it was a volunteer thing, Lyndsey told me she wanted to take me out to dinner to “pay” me for my time. As if that isn’t nice enough, she got me a free ticket to the final dress rehearsal of Jason Robert Brown’s new musical “13”. This musical hadn’t even gone into previews yet, so I was part of the first audience to get to see it. Bonus: Jason Robert Brown was there to introduce it to the audience. Another former ACU theatre kid, Michael Miller, came with me. It was on that fateful Tuesday on the 5^th row in the orchestra that we witnessed a performance by the most talented group of preteens in America. The entire cast is made up of 12 year olds, or at least people around that age. Even the band is composed of preteens. If you’re familiar with Jason Robert Brown, you know that his music is beautiful, but it’s certainly not easy to sing. These kids blew me away. After the curtain call, each cast member had a little solo time to show off some amazing things that they didn’t get to do during the show. To name a few, a couple of kids did a step routine, one girl had a crazy lyrical dance solo, two of the guys had a tap war with the drummer in the band, and one of the girls (who I swear was a grandchild of Aretha Franklin) sang in the background. I’ve never felt more intimidated by middle schoolers.

One more thing before I wrap this up: I got hired by Alice’s Tea Cup! I started hostess/barista (tea maker) training on Wednesday and I’ll continue it on Saturday. I have to memorize and try over 150 different kinds of tea and deal with stuck-up Upper East Siders, but my co-workers are really cool and the only dress code is that you have to wear something…I mean, if they’re going to force me. We can even wear the fairy wings that we give to the little kids when they come in to the restaurant.

My Pepaw always says "you can live for a while with a rock in your shoe." So even though I’m currently the new kid at my jobs, I am treated as virtually invisible by the people I serve, and I’m wracking my brain trying to remember all of the information being sent my way, I’m still holding onto faith that it's going to get better. I’m finally starting to meet people who I will hopefully call my friends soon, and my Alice’s trainer said he was impressed with my work on the first day. I suppose I've come to the point in my transition where New York City is no longer a surreal vacation destination, but a place where I'm making a home. Auditioning is no longer a grade for a professor, it's an interview for a job. It’s tough sometimes to remember that eventually square one may become Hollywood Squares, that starting at the top may yield to being at the top. It's been said that you have to run the race to get to the finish. I say, why run when, as New York has so thoroughly taught me, walking is just as good for you? I know it's important for me to keep my eyes on the prize, but I don't want to be so focused that I zoom by all of the things that make this adventure blog-worthy...and eventually E! True Hollywood Story-worthy. I will do everything in my power to get to where I want to go, but only God knows where I'll truly end up. So until I get to the finish line, every morning I will wake up and patiently put one foot in front of the other, fully trusting that my feet will take me somewhere.

Sand and the City

It seems like this city does everything in its power to make it hard to survive here. And it works overtime to make it even harder to be happy. There's a condition that develops in pretty much every citizen at some point called "inner city depression". It's the sharp realization that pursuing your dream may not cover your rent, that not a single face on the street is familiar or friendly, that those unfamiliar faces don't care who you are or what you are doing or if they never see you again. It's calling home and hearing the voices of the people you care most about, and knowing that's the closest you'll get to being with those people for several months. It's when the magic disappears and you feel like you're being swallowed up by the sheer size of this city. It's any number of things. And I think it's been trying to sneak up on me.

On Wednesday, my friend Nicole invited me to Far Rockaway Beach. It took 4 train transfers to get there and I got lost a few times, but I finally made it. We spent 3 1/2 glorious hours riding waves and dodging jellyfish. When we got out of the water, I sat and just stared out at the ocean. LeeAnn Womack sings that song "I Hope You Dance", and as cheesy as it is, one of the lyrics is "I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean". And I do. But more importantly, I realized...so must New York City. Not even the Big Apple can be bigger than the ocean. They can stack their buildings high enough to hide the stars, but when all is said and done, New York City is just...a city. Just as the surfer heads to the beach with the biggest waves, the actor heads to the city with the most opportunity to audition. I hadn't been able to audition because I was getting things situated here. And now that I'm basically situated, I've been avoiding auditioning because I've felt intimidated and somehow unprepared. I felt the same way about moving to the city until one of my professors told me, "Lindsey, you will never feel ready for that city. You just have to go. Trust me, you're ready." How easy it is to get wrapped up in the idea of New York, in the reputation it has so carefully constructed to market itself to the world. This will by no means be easy, but I'm tired of being intimidated by this place.

I'm reading a book by David Mamet in which he makes a great point. He says, "Alice, when in Wonderland, asked the caterpillar which road she should take, and the caterpillar responded by asking her where she wanted to end up. That's a question you might want to ask yourself. If you want to be in the theatre, go into the theatre. If you want to have made a valiant effort to go into the theatre before you go into real estate or law school or marry wealth, then perhaps you should stay in school." Mamet later speaks on having a fall back plan, like I wrote about in an earlier post. He has this to say, "I was once at a marriage ceremony where the parties swore to 'try to be faithful, to try to be considerate...'the marriage was, of course, doomed. Any worthwhile goal is difficult to accomplish. To say of it 'I'll try' is to excuse oneself in advance. Those who respond to our requests with 'I'll try' intend to deny us, and call on us to join in the hypocrisy--as if there were some merit in intending anything other than accomplishment." I've been holding out on a dream because I didn't feel ready. But I'm going to take my professor's advice and just go. I didn't come here to get a pat on the back or a cookie for giving it a good try. Although I will still take the cookie :)

To Be or Not To Be...It's really not that hard, Hamlet.

Gorilla Rep Theatre Company put on a free production of Hamlet outdoors at The Cloisters. The Cloisters is up in Inwood, the very top of Manhattan, and it's breathtakingly gorgeous. I want to go back when I have the hour and a half to spare for the commute. I had to take the A Train to get there, which I had only taken a few times before and which is quite possibly the most frustrating train in the city. It kept switching from local to express and back again, so I had no idea where I was going to end up or when I was going to get there. And since I was alone and am directionally retarded, I had reason to worry.

I finally made it to the 190th Street stop and tried my best to follow the signs to The Cloisters. By the time I found the park I was already 15 minutes late to the production, so I decided to ask the ice cream man where to find the Prince of Denmark. He told me "Just follow the path down, you'll run right into it." Seems simple, yes? Factor in darkness and about 5 paths to choose from, and you can begin to understand why I wasn't satisfied with his directions. Fortunately, one of the genius crew members or actors in the cast had drawn little arrows on the ground with sidewalk chalk pointing me toward the production. I found my friends sitting on a blanket and found out they were only on scene 3. It was then that I also found out that this particular production of Hamlet was entirely uncut...and had no intermission.

All in all, the production wasn't bad. It was a cool idea to do it outdoors, especially considering how nice the weather has been. They also used 5 or 6 different locations outside, so the audience had to get up and move along with the cast from location to location. Eventually, my group got tired of walking so we just stayed where we were and missed a few scenes. I was okay with that...I've heard this story before.

Even though it wasn't the best show I've ever seen, it was free. And more importantly, it was the first time I've experienced live theatre in the city since I moved here. It felt so good to see people doing what I want to do, to kind of be reminded of why I came here in the first place. It's been almost 2 months since I have performed, and watching someone else do it made me crave it again. I miss the rehearsal process, the adrenaline rush as the curtain flies up, the family you create with every cast you're a part of. I realize that everything I have done so far (like finding jobs and a place to live) was very important. But I almost let myself forget why I came, what I came here to be. I need to get myself out there and audition. I know what I want to be. And for that matter, what I don't want to be...which is a cater waiter for the rest of my life. I want to be an artist. I want to be a vessel for the words of a playwright, the visual representation of a message that needs to be communicated. I want to make a difference.

It would be easier for me to let my insecurities and my nerves get the best of me, just enjoy living in the city and getting by with my catering jobs. But I'm not really living my dream until I pursue it fully, until I take this great opportunity and try to do what I feel is something I am meant to do here. I will not be tormented by the question that Hamlet has been debating since Queen Elizabeth was in office and men thought it was cool to wear tights. I'm blessed enough to have found a purpose here, and I choose to be.

"This is the true joy in life, being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one; being a force of nature instead of a feverish, selfish little clod of ailments and grievances, complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy. I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the whole community and as long as I live, it is my privilege to do for it what I can. I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work, the more I live. I rejoice in life for its own sake. Life is no brief candle to me."- George Bernard Shaw

On another note, here are some after pics of the apartment. We haven't really put much on the walls yet. That will come when our paychecks come :)

The Living Room


The Kitchen



The Dining Room


My Room




The Entry Way



The Bathroom



Kara's Room