Moving Day

Well my friends, the day has come, the proverbial "light at the end of the tunnel" if you will.  Currently we are enjoying a leisurely morning in the cool of Jürgen's nicely air conditioned bedroom, but we will soon make out way outside to enjoy some final moments together before we part for an undetermined amount of time.

I feel lots of different things right now: I feel happy. I feel sad. I feel confident yet I also feel unsure. I feel like a failure but feel hopeful.  It's a bevy of emotions really.

I know that going back to Chicago is the right decision for me, right now, but that doesn't undo the fact that I am upset with myself for not trying harder since I have been out here.  Yes life threw me a curve ball and I adjusted, but if I am going to strive to be totally honest, I need to admit that I gave up. I was a quitter.  I didn't put myself out there.  I folded the hand of cards I was dealt before I even tried to hedge a bet. What's that about? This isn't a good side of me. This isn't the person who I strive to be and know I can be.  What was the point of all of this?

I am not sure I know just yet.  I do know though that I cannot continue down this road. This road of unmet goals and excuses.  If I am going to make this move, a move that will separate the two of us, then it has to be worth it.  I have to take charge of where my life is headed and what I want it to look like.  This is scary.

So I have a new challenge: to reclaim my life and make it better. I am moving back to the place I consider home, so there will be a familiar comfort, but I can't let myself get too comfortable.  This move is a change, not a fall back.  I do not intend to simply go back to "how things were" pre-NYC, because that path wasn't what I wanted either.  I want this to be new, I want this to be different.  I hope to God I do not disappoint myself again.  That's what scares me the most.

Well it's getting awfully heavy over here (you should be inside my head!).  Jokes aside, I am glad I am scared because it means I feel strongly about this, and this just may be what I need to spur me into action. It's ok to be a little afraid right? 

Good I am glad you agree.

Next time I sit down to write I will be home in Chicago.  Crazy.

Tunnel Vision

First of all let me just start by saying thank you for all of the kind and encouraging words I received via either the comments section of this blog, or facebook, or in a sweet email or in person. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate your support, encouragement and belief. It feels good to share, and to be appreciated in return. Thank you my dear people.

Since the last entry life has been on hyper drive, and I have been trying my darndest to keep it all together until I reach the end of the tunnel.  This "end" of sorts will occur in one week.  I just have to make it one week.  Lots of things have happened, so I am going to tell you about them. Away we go....

If you didn't already know this, I made the definitive decision to move back to Chicago. Notice I used the term "I" and not "We."  Now to be fair, I didn't make this decision without Jurgen's help, advice and encouragement as he has been involved in every facet of the decision making process. But it will simply be me who is trekking back to the Mid-West. Jurg will be staying put, for a little while longer at least.  This wasn't an easy choice to make, but it is the right choice for now.  I haven't been thriving in New York, which invariably makes me a pretty un-fun person to be around, and Jurgen understands this. He knows that I need to go back for personal (and professional) reasons, and being the supportive and loving husband that he is, he is letting me go. Isn't he lovely? He is staying because while he too misses Chicago terribly, he feels he owes it to himself to give it a final push here in the city before he possibly makes a decision to leave.  He has made more connections here and has more momentum than I do, and I 100% understand and support his desire to stick around a bit longer.  Sometimes in a relationship you need to be selfish and unselfish at the exact same time, which is what we are doing (for the moment).

Once the big decision was made there were many more decisions that accompanied it including but not limited to "when do I move?" "what do we do about our lease?" "Where will Jurgen live?"

Being a grownup is so annoying sometimes. 

In the midst of all of these decisions, Jurgen's Grandfather passed away. He was 82, was called the "Perry Cuomo of Baltimore" and endured a (thankfully) short battle with brain cancer.  The funeral was held on June 19th and Jurgen delivered the most incredible eulogy at the service. So good in fact, that several attendants already put in their requests for Jurgen to write and give their eulogies.  Being that Jurgen and I are from different home states, and we don't live particularly close to either of them, spending time with one another's family is limited.  Sadly I didn't get to spend a lot of time with his Grandfather, but I did have the extreme pleasure of sitting with him on the balcony of his wonderful beach condo in Ocean City two years ago, seeing him cut a rug all night long at our wedding, and to speak with him over Memorial Day weekend. The final time we saw him he was nearing the end of his time here on earth, but he kept repeating "Don't feel bad for me. I am ready to go. I am so happy. I am so happy!"  If we all could be at such peace.  I hope he is singing Frank Sinatra up in the skies, dancing with his wife and giving my grandparents hi-fives for me.

Side note: With every end to a life a new life seems to emerge, as was the case for my friend Sara who gave birth to a beautiful baby boy! I cannot wait to meet this kid.

So, life...it keeps on spinning. Earlier this week we loaded up a Dodge Mini-Van (how sexy is that?) along with our two kitties and made the 13+ hour drive to Chicago. We spent a mere twenty-four hours there before hopping a jet plane back to NYC only to immediately load a Uhaul truck with Jurg's stuff and move him into his new abode in Astoria.  The madness was capped off with a thorough deep cleaning of the old Sunnyside apartment. I'm talking Easy Off, yellow rubber gloves, on your knees while you scrub almost eight months' worth of dinners from the inside of the oven cleaning. But it is done. Now it's a matter of getting through this week while I live with Jurgen's two new roommates, and out of a suitcase. Not ideal, but we adapt.

I am interested to see where this new move takes me, takes us.  What I have learned from this whole experience is we are never stuck, we do have the ability to pick up and go. To make decisions, make changes. As much as I want to control and set things in stone, there is some comfort in knowing that life moves and shakes without consulting you first, and sometimes you simply have to trust in it.

There is more where that came from my friends! In the meantime have a very happy Fourth!,

The Seven Month Itch or Sharing Your Heart

I have been putting off writing this entry for months now. I started writing a version of this entry when I hit my three month mark, then I said I would complete it by four months, then five, and now I have been here for seven months and ten days and I am still struggling to write it.

I was told by a very wise man that I should use this blog as a space to "share my heart", an opportunity I have all but run away from since I started writing. Sure every now and then I reveal a glimmer of my inner feelings, but they are usually coupled with sarcastic comments or an attempt to be humorous. I have always been a very private person, and have never been particularly keen on talking about my feelings. Some might call this being "emotionally closed," while others (well probably just myself) may chose to call it "mysterious." Take your pick. However, it's becoming apparent to me that I need to be honest with you, with myself, about where I am right now.

I am not pleased. I am unhappy. I am not enjoying New York and I want to go home.

There I said it. I admitted it. Are you happy now?

The day I arrived in New York I was hopeful. I had suitcases full of hope. Subway cars even. Despite the news I had just received I was ready to take on the change, the challenge and the uncertain days that lay ahead. I set goals (none of which I have really accomplished...I am so terrible), I wrote blogs about positivity and being resourceful. I felt good for a bit, but slowly, little by little, the hope has begun to fade.

Life here in New york is tough, it's expensive, it's fast paced and it can feel very isolating. You are surrounded by millions of people but you only know a handful of them.  I have a good amount of friends out here, but many of them have lived here for awhile and therefore they have fully formed lives out here, lives that I don't have a regular place in. I am not resentful of this at all, it's just reality. I understand how much work it takes to create a life for yourself, and how much effort it takes to cultivate a new dimension of friendship. Everyone here has to work so hard to make ends meet, chase their dreams and all that.  It's hard to carve out time for someone new. 

I also have been spending way more time than I ever wanted to spend at my day job, better refereed to as my survival job. I know I am lucky to have it, but I didn't move to New York to work in customer service, if I wanted to do what I am doing right now I could have stayed in Chicago and lived much more comfortably. After spending several months working six days a week you find yourself wondering what you came out here to do in the first place, and even when you have a day off the last thing you want to do is wake up at 6am to go wait in line at an audition. 

Aside from the lack of time to pursue my passion, I have also felt a lack of passion when it comes to my passion. I just can't seem to generate any excitement when it comes to singing or auditioning or even seeing theatre. I feel rather numb and disinterested.  I have asked myself many times "is this really what I want to do?" "do I have what it takes?".  Just for the record these are not fun questions to ask, because the answers are not easy and they certainly are not clear.  This business of show is not a business to stay in if you aren't passionate, because passion and drive are the only things that will get your through to the other side. They are the only things that will get you out of bed in the morning, that will take you to class, that will keep you believing when you have been unemployed for a year. Passion, drive and well...hope. Without them you are lost. And that is how I have been feeling...lost.

I haven't been able to share this because writing about it frightens me. Literally in the past few weeks even coming to my blogging site has roused the beginnings of mild panic attacks. Like I don't even want to see my blog, I don't want to see how neglectful I have been or lazy I have become.  

About a month ago I was having a quick lunch with a friend and I said to him "this just isn't where I thought I would be at this point in my life."  Where I thought I would be I am not sure, but what he said to me was "isn't that just the way everyone feels right now?"  Apparently my feelings of discontent are not uncommon, but that didn't ease my pain. I don't like the idea of being one in a million of wayward, disillusioned, apathetic late twenty-somethings. That doesn't make me feel good. I don't regularly delight in the misfortune of others. I truly want great things for people, and for myself, I just don't quite know how to accomplish them at the moment.

In the meantime, I will say that I do not regret my decision to come here. I am proud of myself for taking a risk, exploring a new city, embracing challenge and change.  Above all, what I have been most thankful for during my time here in NYC has been the chance to form a true adult friendship with my brother.  He and I have not lived in the same city for almost ten years, and to finally be able to see one another on a regular basis has been such a gift. I feel that we are now not only siblings, but friends, great friends. This opportunity alone has been greater than any career opportunity I could have received, and for that I am truly thankful.

Clarity is what I am striving for and I am getting there.  Peace of mind would be nice too.  Some decisions are being made, which I will report back on very soon.  It truly is my intention to get back to blogging on a regular basis. Amidst the mire of uncertainty and doubt there have been plenty of cool things that have been happing in our life, and those stories deserve to be told too.

Thank you all for listening, for reading. I am sorry for being so neglectful, but I hope you will forgive me!  I will be back soon, and until then I hope you are all enjoying these new days of summer.

Beating the Funk...

A Funk has overtaken me for a time now. It ebbs and flows and generally pisses me off. Funks are no fun and render me lethargic, uninspired and useless.  I will expound more on this in a later post, as I am trying to collect my thoughts regarding said Funk. So for now I will give you a list of some activities that can beat the Funk, and even if they can't beat it, they can certainly give it a run for it's money.

-Buying a new pair of shoes. Yellow flats are espically funk-repellent

-Planting a herb garden in a pail and seeing the seedlings begin to sprout

-Enjoying a toasted marshmellow milkshake (with a toasted marshmellow on top even!) from The Stand (just don't eat their hamburgers)

-Organizing the CRAP out of your apartment. Like under the bathroom sink, in the shoe/coat closet, and the kitchen cabinets.  It's so cathartic.

-Enjoying Drag Queen Cocktails, while wearing Tiara's and watching the finale of RuPauls's Drag Race.

-Eating yoru first ever double cheeseburger from Shake Shack.  **Warning** deep pangs of guilt may follow this indulgence, but that is just the Funk getting to you. Life is short, eat good burgers.

-Eating an amazing salad of kale, beets, peas, wheatberries, feta cheese and other oh-so-nourishing and soul feeding healthy foods, which makes you feel like a grown up who can balance their diet after eating a double cheeseburger, cheese fries, and ice cream.

-Watching LOST (it's getting so good!) with the two main men in your life and drinking Champagne cocktails

-Lots of cuddly, kissy, lovey kitty time.

-Pre-ordering your ticktes to the midnight opening of Sex and the City: 2

-Drinking margaritta's at 2pm on a Friday with your brother while throngs of teenage girls scream outside the restaurant at Channing Tatum who is filming a movie in Astoria, and you realize you are too old and out of touch to know who he is and why people care.

 -Being asked to be an actor in a staged reading of a very cool new play, performing it for a crowd of intelligent theatre-goers and finally feeling like you are doing something creative after months of stagnation. (Thank you Brian!)

-Watching this on YouTube. Incredible.

-Knowing that as you write this blog your husband is in the process of making sauteed pork chops with musrooms, dill and sour cream along with twice baked potatoes.

What activities do you do to beat the Funk?

The Great Walk

I am not entirely sure when the inspiration hit. It could have been while at work, or over dinner, or as I was drifting off to sleep. And since I don't know the true origin of my grand idea, and for the purposes of adding a little drama and flare to the story, I will say it happend while I was up in the air.  30,000 feet and descending, as I headed back to New York from Chicago on January 3rd (our one year wedding anniversary).  It was a clear night and I always find myself rather contemplative while in airplanes (does this happen to anyone else?), and as I looked out the window I could see the entire island of Manhattan illuminated. I found it amusing how you could see the pool of lights surrounded by the flat, black, glass like  river and it formed the shape that was identical to that of the subway map. As if I thought in real life it should look different and completely unlike some cartographers hard worked sketch.  Regardless, I was drawn in to this island, which from the air appears so small. Like you could skip rocks across it, or do a few cartwheels and you would end up on the other side.  I wanted to walk it. From tip to tip, and Jürgen was going to come with me.

Jürgen being the cool cat that he is was totally down with my crazy adventure idea, and we decided as soon as the weather turned pleasant we would set things in motion to traverse the island. It had seemed like a lofty idea until last Thursday when I was awoken to the dulcit tones of Jürgen saying "today is the day."  I hadn't mentally prepared myself for the journey, but I decided it was best not to fight a man decided.  It was a beautiful day, and frankly I needed a bit of adventure and challenge in my life. So we hopped the train and found ourselves all the way at 225th street. The journey began.

I am waxed poetic about my newfound love of walking recently, but this was the ultimate in walks as far as  I was concerned.  According to googlemaps the distance from 225th to Battery Gardens is 13.6 miles (give or take a bit depending on your preferred route), however we did a bit of sightseeing and zigzagging along the way, so while neither of us donned pedometers we think we logged almost fifteen miles of foot traffic.  There are many different paths you could take to complete this journey, but we tended more towards the west side of the island following Broadway and then spending a decent amount of time on 6th ave (which if we ever decided to do this again we would avoid), until we reached Battery Gardens with a view of Lady Liberty in all her glory.  It took about seven hours to complete, and I felt the effects of this half-marathon distance walk for days.

It was an awesome experience, and one that I will truly never forget.  It's amazing to see how the landscape changes, culturally and physically, as you travel through the various neighborhoods. At one point I even proclaimed "it's amazing how 'un-New York', New York feels!" and it was really true, there  were times I almost forgot I was in Manhattan.  This really is an incredible city and I am glad we took the time to really travel through it, with the sun on our faces and the wind at our backs.

We took quite a few pictures along the way, and since I recently learned how to make photo slideshows, I have another one! But first here is a list of the few sites we visited, some planned, and some happy accidents.

The Dyckman Farmhouse Museum
The Cloisters
The Morris Jumel Mansion Museum
Alexander Hamilton's Country Home
General Grant National Memorial
Riverside Church
Cathedral of St. John the Divine
The Cross at Ground Zero

(I am sure there are many more sites we could have seen, however once we hit Columbus Circle, it was less about the journey and more about the destination...at least thats what my feet were telling me!)

A "Tail" of Two Kitties...

A year ago my world changed in a way I could never have forseen. A year ago Jürgen and I became parents to two precious kittens, and life has never been the same.  The amount of joy these two long-haired beings have brought into our lives was unimaginable to me before I met them, but now that I have them I will never let them go!

I have been very lucky to grow up having animals around, and it was always in the plans for Jurg and I to adopt two kittes after we got married.  I love dogs as well, and I am proud not to have to ascribe to being either a "cat person" or a "dog person."  However, when you are a young couple, living unpredictable lives, cats are much more adaptable creatures who require less involvment in their everyday survival.  So while a puppy may be somewhere in the distant future, for now its all about cats. 

Last year Jurgen was working on a production in Milwaukee and the plan always was to adopt once he returned in Mid-May.  However, one afternoon while I stared blurry eyed at the computer screen at work, and email popped up from my good friend Jenn, informing me that a friend of a friend, had a cat who had kittens, just eight weeks old and they were looking for good homes for all of them.  She made a convincing arguement:  by adopting them from a home I would be able to get them younger (younger=smaller), they were already litterbox trained (major plus) and since the two would have been litter mates they already would have bonded (awww little fuzzy bonded kittens...). My interest was piqued! I called Jürg right away, and thus began almost a week of hemming and hawwing about if we should make a move, a little off schedule. 

Then we received some very exciting news, Jürg got a call with an offer to understudy two Broadway shows! A major achievement! A career stepping stone! Oh if only we knew...

In all of our excitment Jurgen said "Blair, you should go get those kittens."  In an effort not to be too rash, I said "how about I just go look at them?" 

Now let's be honest with ourselves for a moment, anyone who thinks they can go look at tiny, adorable, furry, hand-sized creatures and not steal away with a basketful of them is lying to themselves.  Who was I kidding? I was doomed from the start.

Jenn, being the ever supportive and animal crazed friend that she is, accompanied me that Saturday afternoon, to a basement apartment that held three adorable kittens: two little girls which were all black and one little boy with black and white spots.  I sat on the couch and a teeny black kitten crawled up onto my lap, curled her front paws underneath her chest and proceeded to fall asleep on my thighs.  I had been claimed. I was a goner.

Afraid that I wouldn't be able to tell two all black kittens apart, I naturally gravitated towards the spotted little lad with the precious face.  And with that, a family was born.

We named our little man Stanley, after the character Jürgen was to understudy on Broadway.  Our little miss? We call her Toaster. Yep, like a toaster oven.  I take no credit for this, as it has always been Jürgen's plan to have a cat named Toaster, and despite my protests, I lost that battle after a tension-filled game of Rock-Paper-Scissors.

Despite my lost battle, I am quite happy with her name, and more importantly I am thrilled to be a "proud parent" the these two precious creatures. This past year they have grown before our eyes, traveled from Chicago to New York, and provided endless hours of entertainment.  My love for them has surprised and inspired me.  I am forever grateful to have them in our lives, and as a part of our family.

I present a photo-retrospective of Stanley and Toaster's first year. The photo's aren't great, but regardless they bring a smile to my face and warm my heart. May they do the same for you!

Gotta make that cash...

So there has been a bit of silence over here in my little blog space as of late.  Admittedly I have not been doing my part in carving out blogging time, but I also embarked on a little journey out west and I have been catching up a bit since my return.  No I wasn't in search of gold, but rather fufilling my bridesmaidel duties in a Salt Lake City wedding.  2010 may be the year of the Tiger, but for me it just may have to be dubbed "The Year of Weddings."  I have seven which I will be called to attend, and I hope to make it to all, but that remains to be seen. 

Where was Jürgen you might ask? Well he was not with me, no sir he got to fly the skies to Argentina! Buenos Aires to be precise, where he got to stay in this swanky hotel, eat steak and dance upon the same soil from which my favorite grapes are grown! What's up with that?

Actually, his reasons for travel were purely professional (although he got to experience a fair amount of fun as well!), because Jürg booked himself a commercial! Can I get a what-what?? He auditioned in New York, for an Irish Celluar company commercial which filmed in South America.  If you wish to spend time making sense of that, be my guest.

It did get me thinking about how funny and wildly unpredictable life can be from time to time, espically if you choose a profession in the arts. One minute you can be serving burgers and fries at a tourist packed, time square restaurant, and the next minute you are a working actor in Buenos Aires. Well, in Jürgens case anyway.  It also reminded me of the array of various "jobs" I have had over the years in an attempt to cobble together a living.  So let's bring back the blogging with a little sharing, shall we?

-I had my first "real job" when I was 16, where I worked at a small flower shop in Louisville, KY.  I was too short to see over the counter, and was often left alone to my own devices.  The job was relativley harmless except for two incidents which are worth mentioning:

1) I had literally just received my drivers liscense and on my first day of work they sent me out to make a delivery that involved me taking the expressway-a system I was unfamilliar with at the time- and I ended up somewhere way outside of the city limits, at night with no idea where I was.  This also happened to be before the time when we really relied on cell phones (I feel old!), and "car phone" that I did have was totally dead.  Hours later I made my way home and dissolved into a puddle of tears in my kitchen, because I never was able to deliver the flowers and the arangement and been tossed all over the back of my car.  The next morning my mom and I went to a more established flower shop and had them re-do the entire thing and she drove me to the rightful recipients who were very understanding.
2) The owner of the shop was my friends mom, and while she was a lovely, fun, artsitic woman she really had no business being the owner of a business. Oftentimes there were no records of how much a given item cost, which meant during the times I was left to my own devices I was forced to make up the price of things.  Not being well versed in the expenses of horticulture I inevitably charged a very lucky lady a mere seven dollars for a beautiful hanging fern. For the record it should have been around twenty-five.

The little flower shop closed a few years later. I'm just sayin'

-During college I spent a summer working as an intern for the Lookingglass Theatre Company, which paid me nothing, but I did get to work as the assistant to David Schwimmer for a week, which involved videotaping a workshop he ran and getting him coffee. He was very nice and very humble.  However Lookingglass then proceeded to hire me off and on as a "door watcher" (I prefered the title "securty guard but what can you do) where I made a great hourly wage to sit at the front desk while performances were happing in their rehearsal space and make sure no riff-raff strolled in and made off with the office equipment. As if my tiny self could have done anything about it, but I took their money anyway. It was awesome.

- I have only onced worked in a restaurant, as a host, at a Tapas restauarant one summer in Chicago.  I ate a ton of queso de cabra and very quickly decided I never wanted to work in restaurants again, for the mere fact that I found it rather torturous to watch other people enjoying their food and I had to starve. 

-The job to have while attending Theatre School was to be hired as an usher when rental productions would use our space.  It was great pay for maybe 15 minutes of mindless work, after which you could enjoy the show, or engage in epic battles with your flashlight.  Juvenile, but fantastic.

-I have been babysitting since I was twelve, and still do every now and then. The first child I ever babysat is now an adult and on her way to being a huge star, however there is also one baby who I have sat for at least five times and still have yet to meet. Her name is Macy and she goes to sleep at 7pm, and never wakes. She is a gift from above. 

-Once I was hired through my agency to work at the NeoCon trade show at the Merchandise Mart in Chicago.  It's a huge event focusing on office furniture, and my job was to pass out pins and candy to passerby's and encourage them to find their "style ID" on the 8th floor.  Why you need to know your style when it comes to cubicles I will never know.  It was so horrible that I hid in stairways and behind model kitchen units, in an attempt to keep my sanity. Never again.

-Being hired to perform at the Chicago Auto Show is much less annoying.  I sang "Let the Sunshine In" with a group of incredibly talented Chicago actors, for the launch of a new line of KIA cars.  We each wore a different solid colored crewneck sweater from Lands End, and threw our hands in the air with great abandon.  In a word: queer. In another word: amazing.

-For two years I worked as a receptionist at a commercial photography studio that threw incredible parties and didn't mind if I drank alcohol while working. A privledge I never took full advantage of. 

-One day while working at the aformentioned phtography studio, the producer asked to see my hands, which apparently are photograph worthy and whisked me upstairs to feature my digits in a cataloge.  This gave me the courage to call up the print department in my agency to see if I could be seen as a parts model.  My agent said "its a very quick decision and is usually a no, but I will see you."  Luckily, he said yes, and every now and then I literally make money from my hands.

-After I graduated college I spent a couple years working as the front desk manager of a spa, which once I left I swore I would never revisit customer service ever again. Well "never say never" apparently, because once I decided to move to NYC I contacted the New York branch, and five minutes later I was rehired. Lesson learned: its a good thing to keep the bridges you build intact. 

-Finally, this is without a doubt the best job I have ever had (aside from special theatre gigs) only involved twenty minutes of actual work, but was oh so very cool to be a part of.

Have you had any special/scary/random/interesting jobs you have had to do to make ends meet?