Yes, I’m in my new apartment now. I haven’t blogged in many many weeks, mostly because I haven’t had any free time until very recently. I’m no longer in classes. They ended Friday a week ago. Since then, I’ve just been working and trying to set up my new one-bedroom apartment, which is no easy task seeing as how I have no means of transporting furniture, if I were to buy some. This is probably why the only furniture I currently own is an inflatable bed from Target and a couple of cheap end tables from IKEA, which is all would fit in my friend Johnny’s car. I saw an inspiring group of photos online of a complete houseful of furniture some guy made out of Fed-Ex boxes. I believe these boxes are free for the taking, so worse comes to worse, I may be breaking out the box cutters and industrial rolls of tape.
It has been easier to set up my kitchen, seeing as how all the big heavy stuff was already in place when I moved in. Brand new stove, refrigerator, cabinets, and sink in all their shiny glory, just waiting for me to dirty ‘em up. I have cooked a few things this week, though I still have a lot of experimenting to do. I do have one slight problem, though. The stove doesn’t have one of those nifty steam-sucking hoods over it, so every time I cook something, the smoke alarm goes off. It has gotten to the point where I don’t even put the broom back in the closet anymore, so it will be constantly nearby in case I need to whack the devil out of the alarm at any given moment. The thing even goes off when I turn on the heat of the apartment. And I haven’t seen a single wisp of smoke! First thing I’m gonna do when I get me some proper furniture is climb up on it and disconnect that ridiculous alarm. I sleep right next to the fire escape, so I’ll be fine. And my sanity will stay intact. Possibly, I will be even safer without the fire alarm, because if the darn thing keeps going off at all hours for no reason, my neighbors just might kill me.
As many of you know, I have recently attained a waitressing position at a large restaurant establishment on Times Square. I’ll admit, I’m not loving working there. I waited enough tables in my life to know that serving is good money, and at this restaurant in particular, it’s better than most. But for some reason, I just don’t feel good there. I am thankful to have a job, don’t get me wrong. And the other people who work there are really great. But I guess I’ll just have to look at it as a huge incentive for making my success in the movie business.
I am quite steadily heading in that direction as best I can. I got my headshots last week, and this morning, I took my favorite ones to the retouchers to have them unblemishified and perfected, and then I’ll go print up some copies so I can start going to auditions. This is a very exciting thought. I can’t wait to start doing something that I look forward to, not something I dread.
In our last Acting for Film class, Miguel, the teacher, gave us individual consultations and advice for our careers. He told me I should continue taking classes, such as improv, stand-up, or clowning classes, because I have a strong comedic instinct. I've always been more comfortable with comedy anyways. Miguel says I need to lose my fear of being incredibly silly. That's ironic, because I am absolutely one of the silliest people I know, and I have been supressing my silliness because I wanted my teachers and classmates to think I take acting seriously. Because I do. And I've been working on my subtlety as well, because the actors who are subtle always blow me away. Guess I should head in the other direction for awhile. Too bad I left my red clown nose at home...
It has been a tough last week. The vast majority of my friends from class have gone back to their respective homes all over the world, and what few are left won’t be around much longer themselves. I have been a tad bit depressed these past couple of days, feeling weird about my job and not having anyone to hang out with afterward. Plus, class was FUN! So I have made a list of goals for myself to accomplish in the coming year, including: make five good friends in New York City, enroll in another acting class, and most importantly, be financially successful enough in my film career to be able to stop waiting tables. Hell, I’d be a thousand times happier fetching coffee for a director than fetching coffee for some obnoxious tourist couple from Europe who wants their meals with everything “on the side.” This “on the side” business makes me crazy! I want to remind them that it’s all gonna end up in the same place anyway! The garbage! People waste SO MUCH food! It takes all my willpower not to secret away the barely-touched burritos and plates of pasta into a to-go box, and eventually into my mouth. I know that seems gross, the prospect of eating after strangers. But I'm always just two shakes away from homeless, and pickiness is not a survival-friendly trait. And I like to think of myself as a survivor, and a thriver. Yep, come a nuclear holocaust, and it'll just be me and the cockroaches. Hmm...I wonder how THEY taste...
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