In theatre, we don't leave work till the job is done. This is true. So true. I'm saying hi to my fourth 12-hour work day in a row, with 45 minutes for lunch and 20 minutes for dinner. MUSIC MAN, THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! And, yes, I'm exhausted. Yes, I'm annoyed. Yes, I want to be elsewhere (my GOD do I want to be elsewhere), but it's ok. At least I have three of six completed gym suits/bathing costumes to add to my portfolio--which, with alterations, were a pain in my ass. I do have a confession: I haven't exactly been putting things together as my shop manager would like. Most of the time the way she wants me to do things is, presumably, the way I would do them myself, as she gives me the job and says nothing about the way its been done. But sometimes she gives me the most ass-backwards, time-consuming task and I think to myself, "I could get this done this way in half the time and no one would ever know, because the evidence is inside the garment."
So I do it my way. Would I ever do this to Alisa? Hell no! But she's Alisa and I want to do things the way she wants them done because her way is almost always the best, most efficient way. Plus I love her and want to please her, but that's besides the point.
I would like to leave. So badly. I have a roommate now, and she's super nice and invites me out with her and her friends. I can never go, of course, because if I'm not in the shop I'm sleeping, but I'm hoping once Music Man opens I'll have a little more time to go out and meet new people. People who don't work in the scene shop and pretend to like me when they see me but secretly don't give a crap if they never talk to me again. I'm a little bitter, yes. I'm not used to this happening to me, so I haven't been the best sport about this. It's like when I get a headache--I am such a freaking baby. I rarely get headaches, so when I do . . . Yeah, sometimes I'm a pain in the ass.
I had the worst one the other day because I'd slightly OD'd on caffeine (it was, like, hour 9 of 12 in the shop), and our designer Kevin was doing fittings, and I couldn't have cared less because I was cranky, except . . . a really cute guy walked in. And he was the nicest actor of all the others who'd come in for fittings. He's cute--but , of course, possibly gay. I asked one of the Muhlenberg girls about him and she said he "talks about girls, but no one knows his sexual preference(s)." Ain't that always the way? I told her that we didn't have nearly as many guys in our department at Arcadia, but that the ones we did have were straight. I also told her that they treat girls however they want and the girls let it happen because there are only three or four choices in the entire department so the women take what they can get. She said Muhlenberg had tons of guys but they were primarily gay. We have such bad luck in that way, us theatre women. I'm just waiting for someone to sweep me off my feet and genuinely want to be with me. I think Jay does . . . he just doesn't always put in the effort. I know he's busy, and I'm busy, but when you say you're going to text/call, DO IT. That's your lesson for the day, gents. Do what you say you're going to do, and everything will be just fine.
But I digress. 12-hour days. Yes. I'm headed to one in fifteen minutes. But I'm thinking it won't be so bad today, because my shop manager is going to realize that we're ahead on fitting notes and have nothing to do but seam rip every blessed part of these band uniforms we ordered and put it back together without the color blue anywhere to be seen. I'm sorry, band geeks of years gone by. I love the band, I do, but the uniforms have to get destroyed regardless. I do what I'm told . . . most of the time.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Select 55 + Styrofoam Act II = TEXT ME
Yes, a 6-pack of Budweiser Select 55 is currently sitting on my desk. Well, there are actually only 4 left, plus a half-eaten bag of practically butterless Act II popcorn. Oh, and on my computer screen is 3 minutes of a movie started on Netflix that I no longer feel like watching.
A boy is at fault. Well, I guess that's unfair. Multiple boys are at fault, plus the fact that I don't really have friends here and so I went out shopping with graduation money that should be in my account but my card got declined for insufficient funds at the bar so now I'm thinking . . . wtf, PNC? But we'll save that worry for tomorrow. I have acquiantances, I've realized. Quite a few. And basically one friend, but I can't expect him to hang out with me all the time. Especially because he has lots of friends and we're only the beginnings of friends. Except that he kissed me the other night, quite a few times. Sober, too. It was insanely sweet. So I thought . . . that meant we'd hang out? We hang out when I initiate things. WHICH IS ALWAYS HOW IT IS! So no more. Nooooo moreeeee.
I'm dealing with the same crap from over an hour away. "I messed things up, I want to make this work this time, I want to see you, we can make it through the summer because I want to be with you." All unprompted, mind, and occassionally I see the proof of these statements, but lately not so much. 3 days without so much as a "hope you're having a good day." But I won't budge. Even if it means I get zero texts and/or calls the entire day and sit here drinking Select 55 by myself, probably putting on Merlin at some point, then sleeping a few hours and getting up to go to the gym at 7am before 9 straight hours of sewing.
But work isn't all bad. I'm exhausted afterward, true, but I feel some sense of accomplishment this week. I've built a few things and am, unfortunately, undergoing a series of alterations of bloody men's suit jackets. Ladies, never let your boyfriends buy a suit jacket that overlaps at the cuff, because alterations on that shit are horrible. Trust me. But it beats Vanessa, who spent 4 1/2 hours hemming a voluminous skirt for a girl that barely reaches 5 feet tall. Poor thing. She went to the bar straight after work to wash her woes away with beer. Clearly, I should've gone with her. Except my card probably would've been declined there, too. EITHER WAY, work isn't awful anymore, it's just very tiring. And now I'm craving attention, as I am wont to do.
Still, I refuse to budge. No sir, I will not text, or call, or knock on the door of, or pine away for, or strategically place myself in the kitchen/laundry room/lounge, etc etc etc. Nope. Staying here with my beer and popcorn and Merlin (yes!) and hoping. Which is better than being the pathetic blob I know I am at times. I would like to point out that I have done this before, and rarely does it ever work to my advantage. I'm usually happier just initiating and getting what I want than waiting. Which is already making me rethink my promise not to do a damn thing. EFF! Why am I so flaky about these things? Gah. What's worse--losing your pride or being alone? I'll let you know tomorrow . . .
A boy is at fault. Well, I guess that's unfair. Multiple boys are at fault, plus the fact that I don't really have friends here and so I went out shopping with graduation money that should be in my account but my card got declined for insufficient funds at the bar so now I'm thinking . . . wtf, PNC? But we'll save that worry for tomorrow. I have acquiantances, I've realized. Quite a few. And basically one friend, but I can't expect him to hang out with me all the time. Especially because he has lots of friends and we're only the beginnings of friends. Except that he kissed me the other night, quite a few times. Sober, too. It was insanely sweet. So I thought . . . that meant we'd hang out? We hang out when I initiate things. WHICH IS ALWAYS HOW IT IS! So no more. Nooooo moreeeee.
I'm dealing with the same crap from over an hour away. "I messed things up, I want to make this work this time, I want to see you, we can make it through the summer because I want to be with you." All unprompted, mind, and occassionally I see the proof of these statements, but lately not so much. 3 days without so much as a "hope you're having a good day." But I won't budge. Even if it means I get zero texts and/or calls the entire day and sit here drinking Select 55 by myself, probably putting on Merlin at some point, then sleeping a few hours and getting up to go to the gym at 7am before 9 straight hours of sewing.
But work isn't all bad. I'm exhausted afterward, true, but I feel some sense of accomplishment this week. I've built a few things and am, unfortunately, undergoing a series of alterations of bloody men's suit jackets. Ladies, never let your boyfriends buy a suit jacket that overlaps at the cuff, because alterations on that shit are horrible. Trust me. But it beats Vanessa, who spent 4 1/2 hours hemming a voluminous skirt for a girl that barely reaches 5 feet tall. Poor thing. She went to the bar straight after work to wash her woes away with beer. Clearly, I should've gone with her. Except my card probably would've been declined there, too. EITHER WAY, work isn't awful anymore, it's just very tiring. And now I'm craving attention, as I am wont to do.
Still, I refuse to budge. No sir, I will not text, or call, or knock on the door of, or pine away for, or strategically place myself in the kitchen/laundry room/lounge, etc etc etc. Nope. Staying here with my beer and popcorn and Merlin (yes!) and hoping. Which is better than being the pathetic blob I know I am at times. I would like to point out that I have done this before, and rarely does it ever work to my advantage. I'm usually happier just initiating and getting what I want than waiting. Which is already making me rethink my promise not to do a damn thing. EFF! Why am I so flaky about these things? Gah. What's worse--losing your pride or being alone? I'll let you know tomorrow . . .
Sunday, May 29, 2011
"I don't speak German, but I can if you like"
So I got the email yesterday: "Lauren, unfortunately we are unable to offer you a position at this time . . . "
Blah blah blah. And, truly, it's understandable that a mother of four children, one of whom is 18 months, would be picky about who she chooses to care for said children. It just seemed like such a done deal when I went for my interview. I got a tour of the house; I was asked to teach the 12-year-old how to sew; I read the 3-year-old two story books! I was even told that "when I was able to start in July, I could come and live with the family at LBI for the month of August and care for the kids there." The references I gave were good--I know they'd never get a bad word about me from any of them. They were even an afterthought. "Do you need anything from me?" I asked. "Hmm . . . " said the mom. "References, maybe? Email them to my husband."
I can only think that it's because I don't have enough childcare experience for their liking. I don't think the years lifeguarding and coaching, no matter how much care of children it required, sounded exactly like "experience" to them. And I do understand that. It's just a bummer . . . $800/week in cash would've been nice . . .
So now it's back to the drawing board. I'm applying to Starbucks--trying to think big here. Anything to stay in Philly. Dad says he knows I want to be on my own but that I can always come home. I love him so much for that, but going home won't really get me any closer to Philly, unless I get the year-long apprenticeship at The Fulton Opera House.
But somehow, as soon as I got the rejection email--the last thing I wanted to see after how crappy this past week has been--I got a text saying I should come hang out with the set/lighting crew in The Underground, aka the basement of ML (my dorm). And I spent the whole night with really cool, funny, somewhat nerdy tech people from all different schools and of all different ages and I actually felt perfectly able to be myself from the get go. We went to Mayfair in Allentown, which was a slightly lame but funny carnival not far from Muhlenberg. We got in for free because Evan knows one of the carneys who works there; he got a few people deep fried Snickers, or "death on a stick," for free, too. I almost bought a deep friend Oreo because I've never had one and it reminds me of Stoltzfus, but I decided to save that experience for another time. I was too excited about having friends to let myself die on the spot of a clogged artery.
When we got back, I got the experience of playing beer pong with a stolen university table in a teeny tiny dorm room. I HAVE NEVER DONE THAT BEFORE! That's what happens when you live in a historical landmark as a freshman, I guess. Castle livin' ain't reglar dorm life. Which reminds me! I don't know why I wrote that sentence Appalachian southern style, but I LOVE THEATRE PEOPLE beause they speak loudly in ridiculous accents in public and don't give a shit. This guy Jack, who just graduated from Kutztown, is kind of a hipster, but he was clearly a Confederate soldier in another life. Long blonde hair, scruffy beard, and mustache, and he does the best gruff southern accent. It was brilliant. And he's a tech guy--still can do a bang-up accent and doesn't freaking care if people stare at him. It makes me proud to know people who truly just allow themselves to be who they want to be, where they want to be it.
And, you know, I don't speak German, but I can if you like. I love Gaga because she's so right about so many things. I'm a performer, and I am in the business of selling myself for a performance. Kind of like prostitution except . . . not. At all. And I figure I can be whoever I feel like and do whatever I want, wherever I want, and I'm not going to give a damn. So maybe this skill will help get a job? I hope. Jay says it will all work out, and it will. I'm just nervous--but when am I not? I'm such a high-strung person sometimes, it's ridiculous.
"Never turn down an opportunity, because you don't know where it will take you." That's what my Grandad said to me at graduation. Randomly. He can barely speak or hear and rarely talks unless it's to tell a waitress a bad joke, but that is what he told me. And then he asked if my professor who knew the guy on the salad dressing bottles can help me, but that's besides the point. I will never again see a bottle of Newman salad dressing without thinking of Grandad Myers. I almost bought one today at Walmart just because--until I looked at the calorie/fat intake per serving. Where does salad dressing get off being so damn unhealthy, is my question? Paul Newman, man, if you were still alive, I'd have a bone to pick with you. I am sorry that my Grandad knows you better for your dressing than your acting. Truly, truly sorry. Maybe I'll never be an actor, but everyone will refer to me as "the olive oil lady" or something. I could handle being a real-life Aunt Jemima type.
Blah blah blah. And, truly, it's understandable that a mother of four children, one of whom is 18 months, would be picky about who she chooses to care for said children. It just seemed like such a done deal when I went for my interview. I got a tour of the house; I was asked to teach the 12-year-old how to sew; I read the 3-year-old two story books! I was even told that "when I was able to start in July, I could come and live with the family at LBI for the month of August and care for the kids there." The references I gave were good--I know they'd never get a bad word about me from any of them. They were even an afterthought. "Do you need anything from me?" I asked. "Hmm . . . " said the mom. "References, maybe? Email them to my husband."
I can only think that it's because I don't have enough childcare experience for their liking. I don't think the years lifeguarding and coaching, no matter how much care of children it required, sounded exactly like "experience" to them. And I do understand that. It's just a bummer . . . $800/week in cash would've been nice . . .
So now it's back to the drawing board. I'm applying to Starbucks--trying to think big here. Anything to stay in Philly. Dad says he knows I want to be on my own but that I can always come home. I love him so much for that, but going home won't really get me any closer to Philly, unless I get the year-long apprenticeship at The Fulton Opera House.
But somehow, as soon as I got the rejection email--the last thing I wanted to see after how crappy this past week has been--I got a text saying I should come hang out with the set/lighting crew in The Underground, aka the basement of ML (my dorm). And I spent the whole night with really cool, funny, somewhat nerdy tech people from all different schools and of all different ages and I actually felt perfectly able to be myself from the get go. We went to Mayfair in Allentown, which was a slightly lame but funny carnival not far from Muhlenberg. We got in for free because Evan knows one of the carneys who works there; he got a few people deep fried Snickers, or "death on a stick," for free, too. I almost bought a deep friend Oreo because I've never had one and it reminds me of Stoltzfus, but I decided to save that experience for another time. I was too excited about having friends to let myself die on the spot of a clogged artery.
When we got back, I got the experience of playing beer pong with a stolen university table in a teeny tiny dorm room. I HAVE NEVER DONE THAT BEFORE! That's what happens when you live in a historical landmark as a freshman, I guess. Castle livin' ain't reglar dorm life. Which reminds me! I don't know why I wrote that sentence Appalachian southern style, but I LOVE THEATRE PEOPLE beause they speak loudly in ridiculous accents in public and don't give a shit. This guy Jack, who just graduated from Kutztown, is kind of a hipster, but he was clearly a Confederate soldier in another life. Long blonde hair, scruffy beard, and mustache, and he does the best gruff southern accent. It was brilliant. And he's a tech guy--still can do a bang-up accent and doesn't freaking care if people stare at him. It makes me proud to know people who truly just allow themselves to be who they want to be, where they want to be it.
And, you know, I don't speak German, but I can if you like. I love Gaga because she's so right about so many things. I'm a performer, and I am in the business of selling myself for a performance. Kind of like prostitution except . . . not. At all. And I figure I can be whoever I feel like and do whatever I want, wherever I want, and I'm not going to give a damn. So maybe this skill will help get a job? I hope. Jay says it will all work out, and it will. I'm just nervous--but when am I not? I'm such a high-strung person sometimes, it's ridiculous.
"Never turn down an opportunity, because you don't know where it will take you." That's what my Grandad said to me at graduation. Randomly. He can barely speak or hear and rarely talks unless it's to tell a waitress a bad joke, but that is what he told me. And then he asked if my professor who knew the guy on the salad dressing bottles can help me, but that's besides the point. I will never again see a bottle of Newman salad dressing without thinking of Grandad Myers. I almost bought one today at Walmart just because--until I looked at the calorie/fat intake per serving. Where does salad dressing get off being so damn unhealthy, is my question? Paul Newman, man, if you were still alive, I'd have a bone to pick with you. I am sorry that my Grandad knows you better for your dressing than your acting. Truly, truly sorry. Maybe I'll never be an actor, but everyone will refer to me as "the olive oil lady" or something. I could handle being a real-life Aunt Jemima type.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Merlin!
I have obsessively been watching The Adventures of Merlin on Netflix, which is slightly embarassing but true all the same. My favorite part about it is that Anthony Stewart Head, who plays Giles on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, is Uther Pendragon. I wonder if he ever escapes the authoritative, snobby-British roles? I RECOMMEND THIS SHOW! It's just kinda cool and yet not too terribly complicated. Mostly goes show by show, which is how Buffy was, and I like it that way. If you don't watch an episode you won't miss much.
IN OTHER NEWS . . . I made a friend. Sort of. Like fifteen minutes ago. Maybe a few friends? They all work in the scene shop or are on light crew, so I will likely never see them during the day but hopefully will get to see them after work lets out. I might be eating a lot of french toast with them tomorrow night. And we might be going to this Mayfair thing in Allentown somewhere. The sort-of friend, Evan, asked me what I've been eating. I told him Ramen, rice, and canned vegetables, and he nodded in approval. I liked him instantly. He included me in everything, which was super nice. His friend, who I think is named Sarah, asked me if I've ever seen her favorite film, Benny and Joon. HAVE I EVER?! Of course! Tina is my best friend. So I liked her, Sarah (?), instantly too.
I wish it didn't take me 2-3 times to remember a name. I feel like I'll figure it out though. The set construction people seem really, really nice and very welcoming. Hopefully something good will come out of this.
Today at work, I ironed for 4 hours BUT then I got to sew! It was lovely. And even though I have to work tomorrow, I feel all right about it. At least I'm keeping my skills in good use.
And now I'm going to watch another episode of Merlin. Win!
IN OTHER NEWS . . . I made a friend. Sort of. Like fifteen minutes ago. Maybe a few friends? They all work in the scene shop or are on light crew, so I will likely never see them during the day but hopefully will get to see them after work lets out. I might be eating a lot of french toast with them tomorrow night. And we might be going to this Mayfair thing in Allentown somewhere. The sort-of friend, Evan, asked me what I've been eating. I told him Ramen, rice, and canned vegetables, and he nodded in approval. I liked him instantly. He included me in everything, which was super nice. His friend, who I think is named Sarah, asked me if I've ever seen her favorite film, Benny and Joon. HAVE I EVER?! Of course! Tina is my best friend. So I liked her, Sarah (?), instantly too.
I wish it didn't take me 2-3 times to remember a name. I feel like I'll figure it out though. The set construction people seem really, really nice and very welcoming. Hopefully something good will come out of this.
Today at work, I ironed for 4 hours BUT then I got to sew! It was lovely. And even though I have to work tomorrow, I feel all right about it. At least I'm keeping my skills in good use.
And now I'm going to watch another episode of Merlin. Win!
Thursday, May 26, 2011
"When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions"
I painted my fingernails black today. I used to think only "goth" people could get away with this, but Gretchen tells me it's acceptable for anyone to do so nowadays and I'm glad. Firstly, because it's stupid that a color should represent a group of people; secondly, because I want to paint my fingers whatever damn color I feel like without comment; and thirdly, because it suits my mood these days.
I truly did believe that after everything that's happened this past school year, things would start to look up once summer hit. Then I came to Muhlenberg. Now, don't get me wrong, I KNOW that this job is going to benefit me in some way. I'm going to learn a lot (hopefully sooner rather than later) and make a bunch of new friends (maybe . . . ?) and have something stellar to put on my resume (if anyone in Philly cares about Muhlenberg SMT, that is). I'm being a pessimist. I know it. I accept it. I even apologize for it. But SOMEONE needs to explain to me what I did to deserve the task of sorting the "White Button" drawer on Wednesday, do so for seven hours with only a brief break for lunch, and then arrive on Thursday only to be told all that's left is to sort the damn "Purple Button" drawer, pull a few Fedoras, and sit on my ass for 2 hours. "Do you have a personal project you can work on?" No. I was told that under no circumstances was I to use the shop for my own projects, so I didn't bring one scrap of fabric.
Nor, apparently, did I bring (1) hangers, (2) cutlery or dishes, (3) any food besides Ramen, Saltines, and white rice, (4) a cardigan, (5) my camera, (6) a refrigerator, (7) a new BC prescription, (8) any plays or monologues to work on for TAGPs, (9) ANYTHNG to decorate my sad freshman dorm room, or (10) my tolerance. Clearly huge oversights while I was packing an hour before I had to leave East Petersburg, but I'm giving myself some allowances on this front considering I'd just moved back into my house the day before.
The tolerance thing I'm working on. It was going reasonably well--until fifteen minutes ago:
"Dear Lauren,
Your callback for our fringe show is on Saturday, June 11th, at 10:00am. Please let me know if this is a problem.
Sincerely,
Person-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named"
Funny. FUNNY. Because I could've sworn six weeks ago that you told me it was on June 4th. I also could've sworn that that was why I asked for and was granted that day off of work.
"Dear Person-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named,
I am still interested in auditioning, but I was told that my callback was on June 4 and therefore only asked off of work for that day. I am in Allentown working on costumes for Muhlenberg's Summer Music Theatre and their first show is in tech June 11, so I will be unable to attend the final casting call for that day. If there is any other weekend that I can be seen, please let me know. If not, I'm very sorry but I will be unable to attend.
Thank you,
Lauren"
FUNNY, isn't it? I barely got off for my TAGP audition on June 13th, so there is no way I'll be able to make a callback for a Philly Fringe show. It's something I need to get used to, I guess. I'm just not needing this right now.
On the bright side! Jess is having me over for dinner tonight. And she is lovely and picked me up last night and we went to Starbucks and Target and talked for a bit. I'm glad that, since it doesn't look like I'll have an opportunity to interact with anyone who works at SMT, I still have a friend nearby.
Tomorrow will be better. I now know to bring a book to work--just in case.
Lauren
I truly did believe that after everything that's happened this past school year, things would start to look up once summer hit. Then I came to Muhlenberg. Now, don't get me wrong, I KNOW that this job is going to benefit me in some way. I'm going to learn a lot (hopefully sooner rather than later) and make a bunch of new friends (maybe . . . ?) and have something stellar to put on my resume (if anyone in Philly cares about Muhlenberg SMT, that is). I'm being a pessimist. I know it. I accept it. I even apologize for it. But SOMEONE needs to explain to me what I did to deserve the task of sorting the "White Button" drawer on Wednesday, do so for seven hours with only a brief break for lunch, and then arrive on Thursday only to be told all that's left is to sort the damn "Purple Button" drawer, pull a few Fedoras, and sit on my ass for 2 hours. "Do you have a personal project you can work on?" No. I was told that under no circumstances was I to use the shop for my own projects, so I didn't bring one scrap of fabric.
Nor, apparently, did I bring (1) hangers, (2) cutlery or dishes, (3) any food besides Ramen, Saltines, and white rice, (4) a cardigan, (5) my camera, (6) a refrigerator, (7) a new BC prescription, (8) any plays or monologues to work on for TAGPs, (9) ANYTHNG to decorate my sad freshman dorm room, or (10) my tolerance. Clearly huge oversights while I was packing an hour before I had to leave East Petersburg, but I'm giving myself some allowances on this front considering I'd just moved back into my house the day before.
The tolerance thing I'm working on. It was going reasonably well--until fifteen minutes ago:
"Dear Lauren,
Your callback for our fringe show is on Saturday, June 11th, at 10:00am. Please let me know if this is a problem.
Sincerely,
Person-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named"
Funny. FUNNY. Because I could've sworn six weeks ago that you told me it was on June 4th. I also could've sworn that that was why I asked for and was granted that day off of work.
"Dear Person-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named,
I am still interested in auditioning, but I was told that my callback was on June 4 and therefore only asked off of work for that day. I am in Allentown working on costumes for Muhlenberg's Summer Music Theatre and their first show is in tech June 11, so I will be unable to attend the final casting call for that day. If there is any other weekend that I can be seen, please let me know. If not, I'm very sorry but I will be unable to attend.
Thank you,
Lauren"
FUNNY, isn't it? I barely got off for my TAGP audition on June 13th, so there is no way I'll be able to make a callback for a Philly Fringe show. It's something I need to get used to, I guess. I'm just not needing this right now.
On the bright side! Jess is having me over for dinner tonight. And she is lovely and picked me up last night and we went to Starbucks and Target and talked for a bit. I'm glad that, since it doesn't look like I'll have an opportunity to interact with anyone who works at SMT, I still have a friend nearby.
Tomorrow will be better. I now know to bring a book to work--just in case.
Lauren
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)