Blah blog blag.

Is my dad and Aja the only ones who read or comment on my blog? God that's pathetic. Also, I almost wrote blag. Freudian.

Guilt Pangs

Argh, my grad class professor makes me want to throw up. And I don't mean that she's a scary, horrible person. I just mean that she scares me because I want to do so well, and I want to leave a good impression but I don't think I do. Especially not in the email exchanges we've had so far. When I get an email back from her my stomach tightens and my throat closes up. I feel like a 6th grader again, not knowing my homework assignment, and I'm in grad school. This is the time when I'm supposed to be responsible and adult like, and I'm failing miserably at it. I know I want to go to grad school and I know I can do all this, so why am I doing so badly? Partially I think it is the timing, just having started this new job and also this class might not have been the wisest idea. I thought I was prepared for both the courseload and my work schedule, and they do seem to match pretty well, but I just haven't been able to knuckle down and do the work when I'm supposed to, or I always forget something is due or I think I'll have time for it and don't. It's depressing because I know it's all my fault, but I still can't seem to get it together. I don't want her questioning my abilities or my dedication. I hate that sort of thing. But I'm still scared of her emails, expecting one of them to say, "Meredyth, if you can't do the work required for this class then maybe you shouldn't be in it." Oh god. And I know the other students are probably doing the exact same things I am and that she doesn't hate or think less of any of us, it's just how it sounds in the emails. Last class I did great, she loved me, and the other students seemed just as much in the gray areas I did, but I can't get the feeling out of my head that she's going to think I'm a terrible student who expects her to drop everything and help me out of a quagmire. I feel like a whipped puppy but I'm doing all to myself.

C.R.E.A.M

This blog is supposed to be about work ostensibly, or my every day life. I'd like to do some creative writing, that's the sort of thing I really want to do, not just blog about my day. But I am very busy working out how to be a grown up, and so I haven't had time for daydreaming stories. Siigh. Being a grown up is very complicated, what with the bills, and the automatic bill payments, and the interest, and the APRs, and the loans you can, and can't, qualify for, and the things that keep costing money without me knowing how, or why, exactly. I've spent the day trying to wrap my head around how a budget works, and if I could stay within one. My mom is a very bad money manager, and my father too. I don't like how they manage things but I find myself falling into the same traps, which then become a rabbit hole. I don't want to take that pill, thank you. I just want to dig myself out. I've been thinking about the need for a car and the need for a car loan and insurance for that car. I think I can afford one, but I also need to pay my mom back for things, and also pay off my credit card debit, and also my grad class. Hm. How can I do this all and stop worrying about money, and whether or not I'll have some at the end of the month? It always seems to go this way. As soon as I found the Job and they told me how much I'd be making in a year my heart did a dance. I'd be free from the worry! It was more than I was ever used to making in a month. I could buy things! But then the reality of due dates and collectors set in. And taxes, let's not forget about taxes. Ohhh. Brrr. That's a cold shower. It's very unpleasant to come down off the cloud of cash and to find out things aren't as simple as it seems from so far up. I think I'll be okay, not like the other post about this I had, but more optimistic. I'm not as broke as I thought and my debts really are manageable, but just having to do these things as opposed to the things I'd like to be doing, and along with all the other non-financial things I need to do and usually forget about, is annoying. Even though getting them accomplished makes me feel super productive, it's still not fun.

'Round and 'round it goes...

I'm at work, and using the computer. It's a pretty big deal. It almost makes me as happy as when I got my ID card and didn't have to be escorted through the building everyday. Finally I have internet access again! A million possibilities have opened up! And of course I only go to the same old websites I always have. Siigh. I really should discover some new ones. But I have all the time in the world now, because it's pretty slow around here. I don't mind it though, it's exactly the kind of easy, but still carrying some responsibility, job I was looking for, that would allow me time to do my own thing when I wanted. I like it alright.

There is a long hallway by the windows, on the way to the bathroom. There's no offices or anything nearby it and I strut the hell out of that hallway, striding like I'm Tyra's next little top model. Or Christy Turlington, who already is a Top Model, and ridiculously smart and good looking, two very admirable things.

I get time to study for my GREs, which is a good thing, because they're coming up fast and I wouldn't have studied at all if I didn't have this free time. I take the Literature GRE on Oct. 6th. I'm a little nervous about them because there are a lot of books I have read, but also a lot I haven't, and it makes no sense to try and read all of them on the off chance you'll come across them, but it's also pretty hard to know, from the passages they give you, what book it is. I've been reading the classics lately and I think that should help. Then, on Oct. 27th I get to test my math skills, something I haven't attempted since junior year of high school. The book I'm using makes it so much easier than I remember from school, but at the same time cramming all this stuff in is hard!

My days are so full lately, it doesn't help that my commute is about three hours roundtrip. I'm exhausted by the time I get home. I don't mind taking public transportation at all, that's not the problem. The problem is that I take a lot of public transportation and it takes up a lot of time. I'm thinking about buying a car, not to drive everyday, but to drive some days, like, to my evening class at Mason (I'll save those complaints for another post, I'm already getting annoyed with myself.) And that's a big responsibility, one I've never really attempted before. But I'm anxious to prove to myself I'm an adult who can handle the responsibility. And maybe move out too, that way I'd be closer to work and not killing myself trying to get here, but that leaves a lot of other issues that I'm not sure I'm capable of tackling right now. Here comes another big sigh.

Dear Skulkers,

Sorry I haven't been around much. I started a new job and it takes a while to be allowed to use the computer. I have to have a special card and I should have that by Monday or Tuesday so I'll update lots then, because I have a lot of free time. Besides that everything is fine. Lots of love, and see you soon. -Meredyth

Poor Little Rich Girl

Hello, I hope you had a wonderful Labor Day weekend. I'm still pretty sleepy. Not that I did anything, I just hate waking up to go back to work. Although, I was told that I passed the initial clearance and can move on to my real job soon. Thankfully. It's been pretty boring here, not doing anything. I've been falling asleep while trying to read for class. We haven't really been doing much at my house all week because we're all just waiting for our paychecks to come in. We're holding on and holding out, but it's going to be a close one. Somehow it reminds me of the W.B. Yeats poem, The Second Coming and the line, "Things fall apart; the center cannot hold." As though we were spinning planets in orbit around the house, but the center of gravity, what holds our lives to each other is slowly separating. It has been happening for awhile, just like a dying star, the falling apart of a family takes awhile. You can watch it implode, slowly, a ripple and shudder as the earth moves beneath your feet. And then, you start to notice that things aren't in their right place anymore, something familiar is alien, a feeling you never noticed before, a sense of panic, is there, just under the surface of things. You can feel it when you breathe in.
We've never been broke before, not like this. I've been broke, my sister's been broke, my mom's been worrying about money and it always seems to be slipping through her fingers; but we've never been broke collectively. The kind of broke where we don't go grocery shopping until Wednesday, where I squeeze $25 to make it last all weekend and come up with unusual ways to use what's in the refridgerator, how to get by without eggs. Julia borrows a textbook from a friend.

It's not so bad today, and I know it's not as bad as over half the population. One of the reasons why we're broke is because Mom and Dad paid for my grad class until I get paid, not everyone has that luxury. But, even when I was a kid and we couldn't do something we'd been promised because we couldn't afford it, or when Mom's credit card didn't work at the mall, it never felt quite like this. Not only is half of our family gone now, but so is whatever comfortable life we had. It's not the same anymore, things fall apart.

I just found the most luxurious site. Ohhhh. It makes me hungry. It's about lunchtime anyway. I'm going to go find something to satisfy me. I wish it were the food in these photos though. They make me want to go home and start cooking immediately.

Enjoy the pictures and I hope they inspire you too, or at least just make your mouth water uncontrollably.

One way to kick start that fish, Deim

I have found one good thing about the job so far. SO FAR. I'm trying not to complain or be pessimistic. And this thing is pretty optimistic. Sort of. Coming home from a long, mind numbing day of work really puts me in the mood to live life to the fullest. I want to do everything, see everyone, eat everything and do anything that might be construed as fun or relaxing. Maybe this can be the way I can fulfill the quote I like, "the future unimagined for the sake of the glorious, difficult present." Mmmmm. I want gallons of ice cream, glasses of wine, cigarettes and dancing. I'm so happy to be home that you could convince me of doing any outrageous act. Ahh, to be young and home from work.

Two Days for the Price of One Post

Another day of skulking around the maze of cubicles hoping someone doesn't ask me what I'm supposed to be doing. I played a super fun game on addictinggames.com for a while. And then, trouble. Apparently they can't find my security clearance from my old job to reestablish it. Embarassing questions got asked, questioning my competency and reliability and job status.

Well, not really, but it felt that way. I felt like even more of a fraud; like I had lied my way into this boring place just to steal state secrets. So I had to fill out bunches of paper work accounting for my past 7 years.

Resumed 8/29/07
It is in these moments, when I am filling out resumes or school applications that I am made aware of just how sporatic and unregimented my life is. I tend to think of myself as organized and liking schedules, knowing where the plan leads to. But when I look back and see 3 different colleges, 15 jobs, 2 cities and countless missing phone numbers, addresses or supervisors' names trailing after me that I realize just how impulsive this life of mine is. I always make decisions impulsively. I tend to want to gather the data but then end up just throwing it into a corner and running at the situation with my head down. I think it yields interesting results and stories but might look a little too colorful for this cubicle. It's a bit outside their color scheme. I'm afraid I'll be a bit too outside this color scheme too. Yesterday when I left here I felt physically ill. I think I'm just not used to this sort of schedule, but it's also my fears creeping out and affecting me. I need to remember more often that I have done quite a lot, and know quite a lot more than people give me credit for. I went to Kenya by myself, I visited London all alone. I got an internship working in Robert DeNiro's production company, and moved to New York all alone. I can do anything I want (and I don't just mean that in a girl power sort of way. I'm pretty self suficient.) Just because these people don't know what I'm capable of doesn't mean I have to feel intimidated by beige walls and button down shirts.

In response to Smith Mag's six word memoirs I came up with this minute autobiography: Exuberant families breed stories from messes. That, in turn, led to this poem (which is still a work in progress):


Exhuberance oozes out of them

like oil; rich, smelling of sun, necessary.

From this force of relatives and friends

Messes are beget on the kitchen counters,

in the living room, and bathroom sinks.

They trickle onto the sidewalks

where neighbors gather gossip,

leak out through phone lines,

and on voices carried past the pines.

Slowly, after tears and roars- of laughter fade,

the messes emerge from chrysalis as stories.

And the stories creep back in to fill up the house.

Breeding among the late night dishes in the sink

and bottles left on the back porch,

events catalogued like colorful beads,

from conversations continued long into the night;

they take up their place alongside the silent spiders

and remain; the friendly ghosts of the family.

New Kid on the Block

I started my first day of work this morning. I had an hour long orientation and then a quick tour around the office maze, and now I'm sitting here in an abandoned cubicle feeling like a little kid on her first day at a new school. The girl that I'll be working with for the next couple of weeks showed me around and then dropped me off at this cubicle and left. I read through the packet of new employee information I'm supposed to understand and fill out and now I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I feel a little like someone pulled a Freaky Friday on me and my dad and I've stepped into his world of business casual and gray fabric cubicles. I slink around the makeshift halls hoping no one looks up from their computer and recognizes me as a fraud, or will ask me a question and expect a smart, professional response. I don't know what I'm doing here. Literally or metaphorically. I don't know what my job will consist of and I don't know why I suddenly have an office job. It sort of scares me. Maybe it's the thought that this means I'm one step closer to really growing up. I know I'm supposed to have a real job and yet all I'm doing is sitting in this office, hidden away from everyone and wondering why I wanted to enter the real world of employment anyway.

It's sort of everything I imagined a real job to be-lonely, boring and confusing but not what I actually thought I'd have. Thank god I don't plan to be here forever. It would be soul crushing. Or at least, I think it would be, based on my first day. Maybe after a few weeks I won't feel like the new kid no one wants to play with at recess. But will I ever feel comfortable here? I hope for that, just to make things easier, and at the same time remaining in a cubicle, not doing anything that FEELS worthwhile for the rest of my life is one of my biggest fears. I've never thought I was cut out for the corporate world and I don't really see that changing. I've always wanted a job that I loved, that I felt meant something. A job like this might actually mean something to someone, but it doesn't to me. I've never wanted a job where I work 9-5 and come home and wash off the 'dust from the walls of institutions,/Finer than flour, alive, more dangerous than silica,/Sift, almost invisible, through long afternoons of tedium,/Dropping a fine film on nails and delicate eyebrows,/Glazing the pale hair, the duplicate grey standard faces.'
(Theodore Roethke, Dolor)
That poem has always summed up what I think of the corporate world, and I know there are great jobs out there and great people who do them in office cubicles but I really don't think they're for me. Office Space, despite its hilarity, also terrified me because I didn't want that to be my reality, and now I find myself counting down the minutes of the clock and hoping not to be seen by anyone in authority because I'm afraid they'll ask what I did all day and I'll have to tell them. "I read sweet juniper all day. "

Say Wha?

I got a job. I got a job. I got a job. Sorry. I'm just a little surprised. I never really thought it would actually happen. I'm not super thrilled about the job but I know I can do it and I think I can do it for at least a year. I'm going to be proofreading things that military men write. Yay. It will pay well. That's the saving grace. I'm going to be commuting down near the Pentagon every single day. Every day. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I have a desk job and have to be there five days a week. At least now that I'll be sitting down all day I can buy some sweet heels and wear them without losing the feeling in my toes. And maybe even a car.

I've also been gearing up for the school year again. I'm trying to take a grad class at GMU this semester. Lots of good reasons, like working on my GPA, getting a good recommendation, getting some experience in a grad class and keeping my brain awake. But, in order to take the class I have had to run around like crazy trying to get all the documents in time so I can register and pay for classes by August 27th. Yup. Monday. (I think.) Wish me luck.

Surprise!

There's a sound in my house that I haven't heard in quite a while. It's a strange, bombastic, deep throated sound. It makes me happy in a way I've never felt before. Joining it are other melodious noises but this one sticks out more for its loudness and all encompassing hilarity. It's the sound of my brother laughing.

Last night my mom, Julia, Wendy, Joong Woo and I went to dinner with Ariel, Graham and Graham's family. We met at an Outback in Centreville. Sitting, waiting at the table, wondering who is joining us at a table for 15 we speculate on the announcement Ariel says she has for us. Is it an engagement announcement? Are she and Graham getting married? Julia threatens to walk out if that happens. Is she pregnant again? We can't believe either of these could be possible and we will be very sad if they are, because she and Graham aren't done with school yet. Ariel and Graham's brothers and mother walk in and Ariel looks beautiful in her dress, and the baby is adorable. Julia's afraid that because she looks so pretty she is getting engaged and she's preparing to be angry.
After they're seated Graham and Graham's second oldest brother walk in and behind them comes someone that looks kinda familiar, looks like a cousin or something, looks like he belongs with this group of people.
I hear my mom screaming and she runs around the table.
Julia and I are dumbstruck, Wendy starts yelling too.
I can't figure out what is going on.
Why is this person here?
Why shouldn't he be here.
It's my brother.
My brother who was in Iraq, and is supposed to be on R&R in Germany.
What is he doing here?
He was in Iraq and now he's here.
How?
Those are the confused thoughts running through my head.
Then it occurs to me that he is actually here now.
I get up and try to fit my arms around him and my mom and Wendy.
We're crying and laughing and stunned at his presence.
It's like when we saw him after boot camp all over again.
My mom is crying and Julia is crying and he's here.

He told everyone he was going to Germany for two weeks and we all accepted it without another thought, but he emailed Ariel and Graham to tell them it was all a lie and he was actually coming home and they planned the whole surprise. He arrived yesterday and will be here until August 19th. That's so long, he's here for so long, it will be the longest we've seen him for about two years, and the first time we've seen him since January.

I feel so shocked and as though it's not real, even though I hear him in the other room talking to Wendy. I almost don't want to spend too much time actually with him because I don't want to wake up, or miss him too much when he is gone. My heart hurts.

What Do We Want? Help!

Sofia and I just went to see 'Sicko', the new Micheal Moore movie. Oh my god, this should be a national requirement. It's so subversive it's like stumbling across a pot of untaxable gold. I sat in the theatre clentching my fists watching those lucky bastards the French, British, Canadians and Cubans laughing at our shitty health system. Every cell in my body screamed out "I want the fuck off this boat!! I want to go to England!" Get me the hell out of this country. How is it that we are the only, (ONLY, ONLY, There are no others) Industrial country that doesn't have universal health care? The poorest British citizen is in better health than our wealthiest because of the preventive and FREE care that their country provides. They understand that to take care of the problem before it begins, and to take away the burden of debt that lingers over the sick means their patients will either stay healthy, or get better quicker, and then be able to return to being a productive member of society. They aren't trapped in a cycle of poor health care and mounting debts. They don't have to choose between going to a hospital that is 'in the company's network' or the one that is closest. Dying on the way to the pre-approved network hospital isn't an option for these citizens. Their country actually cares about the well being of ALL of its citizens, rather than the ones that donate the most amount of money to the politicians' campaigns.

I propose a change. I refuse to vote for any politician that does not make these three topics part of their platform
1. Exit Strategy. Getting us out of the war, and rebuilding the country we've destroyed, in a peaceful healthy way should be a priority. We would save billions of dollars a month, not to mention the lives.

2. Global Warming. We can do a lot as private citizens but we could do so much more as a nation if our government would sign the bills that would help this along.

3. Universal Healthcare. Reforming our healthcare system is a necessity at this point.

All of these issues would show the American people that our government does care about THEM, not about themselves. We want a government for the people. That was our initial reason wasn't it? Somewhere along the way our ideals got lost and now we have a government that is for themselves. The point of democracy is to have a government that is afraid of the people and will work for them. This kind of candidate is the only kind I'm interested in. Once I've found him, or her I'll let you know.

I just wrote a letter to my Congressman and Senators telling them what I wanted. You can too. Do it HERE.

Go Get A Job, You Bum!

"I'm freakin' out here, man!" Those words, so true, so true, were spoken by an old hippie but they could have been stolen right out of my mouth. Except for the fact that I was quoting that old hippie in an ironic way. It's always ironic! I never say stupid things without the old ironic excuse to back me up. Thank you hipsters.
Sorry, I'm drinking my coffee very strong and black today. We ran out of sugar. Waht was my point? I've completely lost it in the haze of irony and coffee. Which is a good thing because now as I've remembered why I decided to write this post I'm starting to freak out again.

Looking for jobs is HARD! I've never really had to begin this process. Jobs have sort of come easily to me. Especially jobs I don't really care too much about. I've gotten every single job I've ever interviewed for, except one. That's a pretty good track record when you consider how many jobs I've had, and the fact that I rarely bother filling out the application and then returning it. That holds true for restaurant jobs, retail jobs, internships, you name it, I can interview for it.
And the past few jobs I've had I haven't had to apply or interview for. I think I was a little spoiled by the TV community. Someone recommends you and then all of a sudden you're hired. Now I have to look up jobs, send them my resume and hope they'll call me back for an interview. I get the distinct feeling that my resume doesn't meet standards. Who knew people would be so picky about who tutors their kids? (just joking...sigh.) I've applied at tons of places (okay, maybe not tons but it feels like it) in NOVA and haven't really heard back from many of them. I haven't heard back from Fairfax County yet about substitute teaching and I know they probably have tons of resumes and assessment tests to slog through but it's making me antsy, like I can't even get a job as a substitute teacher.

I'm sure I should keep at it and give it time, all those reasonable responses but I really hate this. I feel like once someone deigns to hire me I'm just going to be so angry at this whole process that I'll throw it back in their face. Or be so servile and grateful that I spend the next 6 months on weekend duty. All my experience and college degree doesn't seem to get me far. They seem to want people who have experience teaching or tutoring rather than experience in running for coffee or the subway.

A Capitol Fourth

Sorry about the lack of writing recently. I was pretty overwhelmed by the show for a while and then after that I didn't want to think about it for a while and relax. But the show was interesting and so much happened that I wanted to write about it, all while it was going on. I just didn't have a spare moment. Really. Starting the Monday before the show on Wednesday I was completely crazy all day. Tuesday we had to sit through an hour long security sweep. All of us in the catering tent. I had so much work to do when I came back from our forced lunch break. It was the busiest part of the day for me. As soon as we got back from lunch I had about 5 interns that were coming to volunteer for us. I was spinning faster than a tornado trying to get everything ready for the dress rehearsal. People needed their guest passes for the night but we ran out of Tuesday night passes and had to come up with some way to make some up. I printed "Tuesday Night ONLY" on white labels and made the interns put them on extra Band & Chorus badges. It's nice having interns that can do these time consuming boring tasks. I was one about 3 months ago and I totally appreciate it.

Apparently though, I hurt someone's feelings. This girl, Candice, who is the full time receptionist in the main Capital Concerts office. I thought nothing of her at first, she was nice enough, cute. After hanging out with her for a while I started to get annoyed. She was young, thought she was funny and was pretty fake nice. She was coming over to help us out on Tuesday and came shortly after all the interns had arrived. I had showed the interns around the stage and backstage and then told them they could watch the show because I didn't have much for them to do and was already overwhelmed. Candice, however, wanted to be part of the team because she worked for us too. Well, she'd been working in the main office, far removed from anything we were doing. She also hadn't brought a computer to help us out with the paperwork. She was basically reduced to an intern's role and she resented it. She thought I had been rude to her. I don't really know why or how she got this impression. I was busy and so not really able to chat but I was trying to be really nice to everyone because I know I can get short when I'm busy but I didn't want the interns to be intimidated. Anyway, she wrote my boss an email saying she didn't feel part of the team and I had been rude to her and therefore she was going to go help the Talent people instead. You don't do that! You can't decide you don't like where you are and change your job like that, without asking anyone. My boss was annoyed, and so was I. If you can't deal with a little rudeness, or what you perceive to be rudeness how are you going to make it out in the real world, and especially TV? It's a rude, crude place. Get the fuck over it. And I'm one of the nice ones.

The National Anthem Makes Me Weirdly Patriotic

Unlike Memorial Day I am much more inclined to be patriotic on the 4th of July. I know a lot of people are, but I'm usually never patriotic. I feel like those people who only go to church on Easter and Christmas, I'm only patriotic on Independence Day.
The whole 'rocket's red glare' and the 'flag through the night' thing really sets me off. Especially when it's sung by someone who's got a soaring voice. I guess it's the whole day, like Christmas is so much more Christmas-y when the tree smells good and the people around you are kind and the snow falls. When the weather is balmy and the picnic is great and the people are good and the fireworks explode so inticingly and the sky is that dusky blue shade and the fireflies blink. The smell of hot dogs and gunpowder really makes me happy. I feel oddly elated and amazed to be a part of this country. It doesn't happen often, that I'm proud of who we are and even on the Fourth I get angry and upset, but I still somehow think it will turn out alright. Overall we're decent people who believe in these abstract things like Freedom and Liberty and we have fought wars to keep it that way. Even though we screw up often, and I wish we never went to war, especially the current one, I think Americans have this funny decency buried somewhere and after a while the cruelty gets intolerable and we do something about it. Granted, it's usually followed by bloodshed. It's strange, isn't it, how many of our boys have felt the same way, and how many of them have decided that they would be willing to die for that. I wish they could decide that and feel good about that decision, but not actually have to prove it by dying, or getting maimed or scarred, emotionally or physically. I wish we could show our pride in our country without having to sacrifice these boys needlessly. Even though I think these things I am amazed at the fact that someone would care enough about these things to do that. Amazed, awed, grateful and saddened.

Man, this wasn't supposed to go down that path. I was actually just going to comment on how cute the cheerleader from 'Heroes' is, and how she has a decent voice after all. Thank god she's not just some actress who THINKS she can sing, or a singer who thinks she can sing coughbritneycoughjessicacough cough.
That's all I meant to say. And that her singing 'The Star Spangled Banner' makes me oddly patriotic, something I never really intend.

Another Day Closer

Sorry, I know I'm just feeling sorry for myself and I should quit gripping, like I did in my last post. I know that this job is short and then I get to go home and have days off. It's just that when I'm in the middle of working a lot, and don't get much time off to do the things I like to do, I forget that I have it alright and I sink into that blind frustration that sees no end. This might be why I hate working so much. I should remember that when I do have a real job I won't have to work weekends (or at least, not constantly) and I won't have to work a second job and go running from place to place like I did last summer. It also doesn't help that I spontaneously like to do things like bake or paint and so to be constricted in an office where I can't just do that seems so very cruel. The days seem long now and they're fairly boring, but in a few days I will be past all that and can indulge in things and people. And do yoga again. It's surprising how much I miss it.

As you might know, if you have been following this blog assiduously, as you should be, you would know that I have come to the conclusion that I would much prefer the lifestyle of an educator. Being able to educate young people and help them see the world in a different way, and the freedom of summers and not working in a boring office are all things that I kinda want. And the freedom to write and go back to grad school. So, after this show is finished I'm going to retire from the entertainment business and hang up my credentials and get a full time job and go to grad school. As interesting as this career blip has been, seeing the other side of all those live shows broadcast throughout the country, or filmmaking, I don't think this is for me in the long run. There are too many things that I want out of life that I see myself compromising if I continued on in this career. I don't want this badly enough. I want academia and time to read and contemplate and discuss.

A Long, Hot, Boring Marathon

I'm tired. I'm tired of sitting in this trailer and entering in all these numbers for credentials. I'm tired of having to take the bus to the metro and walk all the way down to the trailers every single morning. I'm tired of getting home every night after taking the metro and the bus. I'm tired of being tired and not being able to do anything but go to sleep. I want a weekend goddamnit. I know the show is going to be over on Wednesday and I'll only have to work until Thursday but right now that seems like a very very long time away and I don't want to have to drag myself along until then.

That's what I feel like I'm doing. I feel as though I've entered a very long distance race and at first I thought it was great, fresh air! Things to look at! I've got energy, I've got endurance, it's just a puny little race! But after awhile all of that faded away and I began wondering why I would have been stupid enough to enter in a race when I don't even like running. I see the people on the sidelines and I wish I were there with them, cheering the other idiots along and holding a nice cool beer. And right now I haven't gotten to the point where I can see the finish line, I'm still just running along, knowing it's there but getting more and more frustrated with every step and vowing to myself that once this is done I'm just going to relax and never enter another long distance race again.

Seriously, despite that excessive metaphor, I'm tired of this job and tired of having to be here everyday without vacation. I want to spend time with my friends again and watch the day slowly meander by, get some writing done, clean my room, bake something. I even want to start applying for the job I know I must get in the fall. I'm actually a little interested in it. As long as there's weekends. And no metros.

Back for Round 2

I started back at the Capitol Concerts show on Thursday. Today is Tuesday and I worked all weekend. I worked at 6:30am on Sunday and again this morning, because our producer seems to think it's necessary. I'm doing credentials again this show, but this time I have more responsibility and more stress. I actually kind of like it. I like feeling like the work I'm doing is necessary and I am a valuable part of this production. I'm not just some PA running around doing errands for any master who calls. I have tasks and getting them completed is entirely up to me. My boss tells me what needs to be done but has the confidence that I don't need to be watched over while I do it. It's as close to a real job as I've come. I guess this baby step means I could do it anywhere else I choose as well.

The same people are here on the show, but I'm not going to see much of the ones I saw last time because they are all over at the hotel and I'm going to be at the site, sitting in a trailer. Fortunately, the AC works this time.
The job is going well so far. I like it but I'm tired. I'm going to be working straight through to July 5 I'm pretty certain. After that I'm done and I'm not really sure what comes next for me.

Update

You want an update? You got it! So, obviously the Memorial Day show ended and I lived through it. Not that I really expected anything else. Although when the storm broke out thirty minutes before show time, the crowd that had already gathered on the lawn and gone through the metal detectors had to be evacuated and the capitol police, carrying automatic weapons crowded into our hot as hell trailer, their guns pointing at my toes, I wasn't so sure. Not to mention the squwaking that went on on our headsets but gave me no directions whatsoever about what to do. I wandered around backstage, sat with my mom who had come bearing a questionably worded sign for my brother. I bummed a cigarette from a beefy stage carpenter and tried to look busy. When the show ended I finally had something to do. My job was to escort the wounded veterans who had come to the show up the the Capitol where there was to be a ceremony and reception. I was excited, finally something to do! I could feel as though I was all dressed up for a reason at last. Too bad the veterans already had come with escorts and didn't need my help at all, as it was pretty obvious which direction to go, and I had no idea myself where they'd be going. I did walk up with some people and get to use my radio and call for a golf cart to carry one man up who couldn't make it on his own. I was standing in this crowd of military men, some in fatigues, some in civilian clothes and me in my skirt and wedges. I was standing there and got a message through my radio about the location of the golf carts and loudly replied, "Rodger that!" in my best professional voice. I'm used to radio lingo and the way people'd been talking on the radio had been annoying me all day. It wasn't correct! Anyway, as soon as I said that out loud all the military men looked at me with this confused, amused look, as if to say, did this little girl just use military radio lingo?

After everyone was up in the reception I got to help friendly old Rod with the positioning of the vehicles for quickest exits when people left. I was joking with an older, rather cute chauffeur that I didn't give a fuck where the cars went. I'd let them fight it out. Logistics is not my forte. I was in charge of getting the vans we were using for production into place and so I had to battle with Kenya, who had a complex about the whole thing and spent her days bossing the drivers around via radio. I think they were about to pull a Ceaser on her and gather in the Capitol building to stab her to death with their walkie antenneas. I also got into a fight with Rod, who had been my boss at the Kennedy Center but now was just being a big asshole. I turned out to be right, thank you very much.

After everything was over we all went back to the hotel and had a drink and I crashed in Patty Jovel's room until the morning when I had to go back to the AC less trailer on Memorial Day and enter in badge numbers in the computer. So much fun.

Since then I've just been hanging out at home, writing, painting, making a pair of jeans and visiting friends. I've been babysitting for some adorable little boys. It's been a good month. It feels a lot longer but I wouldn't mind seeing it continue for a while longer. But now I'm wondering when the summer will end, and when I should find a real job for the summer, and what that job may be.