The Third New York

"There are roughly three New Yorks.  There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born there, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size, its turbulence as natural and inevitable. Second, there is the New York of the commuter- the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night.  Third, there is New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something.  Of these trembling cities the greatest is the last- the city of the final destination, the city that is a goal.  It is this third city that accounts for New York's high strung disposition, its poetical deportment, its dedication to the arts, and its incomparable achievements.  Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness, natives give it solidity and continuity, but the settlers give it passion.  And whether it is a farmer arriving from a small town in Mississippi to escape the indignity of being observed by her neighbors, or a boy arriving from the Corn Belt with a manuscript in his suitcase and a pain in his heart, it makes no difference:  Each embraces New York with the intense excitement of first love, each absorbs New York with the fresh yes of an adventurer, each generates heat and light to dwarf the Consolidated Edison Company."  

-- E.B White from a passage in his essay Here is New York.

There's an App For That

Thank God for technology.  It's been really helpful in learning to navigate this city.  Of course, google maps has been a godsend in helping me walk the town, but there are many other useful apps, a few of which I have listed below:

• FOR YOUR SUBWAY NEEDS-  Hopstop.  It tells you how to get to the nearest sub station and which train to take to get to your desired destination. It also tells you your eta, including walking time.  Beware, though.  This is only an estimate.  And since it's always good to have a back-up app for such things, there's also Embark NYC.  Embark has a better alert system in case of changes to service, but I personally prefer Hopstop.

• FOR YOUR THEATRE TICKET NEEDS-  TKTS.  This app connects to the ticket booths around town (there are three) that can get you discounts to Broadway and Off-Broadway shows.  They are usually (although not always) 50% off.  But be warned, the discount is off the best seats available.  SO if tickets are $160, you will pay around 80, with a service fee.  Which is still a good deal, but if you are looking for nosebleed seats, they are not here.  There's also Today Tix , which offers more seating options and lists the lowest priced tickets available as well as some better seats for a slighter hefty price.  

• FOR YOUR FOOD DELIVERY NEEDS-  Because this is New York, tons of restaurants offer free delivery, and of course there are a couple of apps that will tell you what's in the area (you can also search for specifics) and allow you to place and pay for your order through the app.  You can also see reviews and ratings for suggestions.  I've not used either of these, but both Grub Hub and Seamless come highly recommended.  

Of course they have apps for taking taxis, and there's always Uber.  I used Uber a few times in Austin, as it's very quick with pick-ups and the drivers have always been really friendly.  Truthfully though, , I haven't had any troubles getting a taxi in New York when I needed it, so thus far, I've not used it since moving.

This is just the beginning of my list, which is sure to grow as I meet new people, get suggestions and discover things on my own.  If you have one to add to the list, or suggestions of better apps for the situations mentioned, I would love to hear about it/them in the comments section!

Too Many Rats

Another undeniable feature of New York City?  Rats.  Sightings in the subway are all too common, and as I walked home through the streets of Brooklyn after having a drink with friends, passing by the mounds of garbage at the curbs, a rat scrambled from the garbage bags and crossed my path, which was a first for me.

Truthfully?  I can deal.  I don't want to see one in my apartment EVAH, and every time I make my way to the toady I try not to think of the Urban legend of rats crawling through the pipes and up out of the toilet.  But I think they are here to stay.

This whole situation reminds me of the children's book my Aunt Lu used to read to me before I fell asleep.  It was called The King, The Mice, and The Cheese.  You think New York has rats and mice?

Well, the wise men of the city told the King to get rid of the mice with cats, but shocker, the cats proved to be a bigger problem than the mice so they had to use dogs, and then lions to get rid of the dogs, and elephants to get rid of the lions... you see where this is going, right?

Mice for the win!!!

So, again, as long as they aren't inside with me, cuddled up in bed expecting a belly rub, I will be fine.  Not happy, by any means, but I suppose I will live.  And yet, being "fine" means some days you will walk past a building with a sign like this...

Opening Night at NYMF

Yesterday I was lucky enough to see the opening night of this year's New York Musical Theatre Festival (aka NYMF), and I learned a valuable lesson about traveling in New York-- ALWAYS give yourself more time than you think you will need.  Especially if you are staying out in Brooklyn.  Those "arrival times" on the subway apps are just estimates, people. and they are no guaranty that you will get there at the time they say.

I was meeting my friend at 480 Broadway at 6:30.  Leaving at 5:35 should be enough time to get there, right?  Fuck that!!!  I needn't have spent the time showering and making myself presentable, because after racing 3 blocks to the subway, getting on the 3 and then switching to the express (only to realize that the express landed me a little farther away from Times Square than the local) taking shuttle to Times Square and then walk-running from 42nd to 10th street, I was drenched and red faced (at least that's how I felt).  And I could not find 480 for the life of me.  I found 470... and 500... back to 470...and 500.  I called my friend at 6:56 for a 7pm show.  Would that I was calm cool and collected when making this call.  Alas, I was not.

"I'm going home.  I don't...I don't even know where I am.  I'm at the CVS at 10th and Broadway"

"Joe, the theatre is at 10th and Broadway.  You can make it."

This was my first encounter with inner demons.  Of course, these were relatively small demons, and not giant hairy demons with spiked backs coming at me with great swords.  They were small demons like the little caped chap on the deviled ham cans, with tiny little shrimp forks to jab insistently until I felt I just might lose my shit in frustration at subways and geography and my perceived ineptitude.   I did not lose my shit.  I took a breath, or two.

This is when I realized that though the sign on the outside of the building might say 470, it is ALSO 480, but 480 is upstairs.

I hurried up the stairs, made my way through the velvet rope, passing directly by Johnny Tartaglia, the director, who was far too immersed in pre-show prep to notice the harried homo heading into the theatre.  I met my friend, and a couple of new people who could not have been sweeter, and the A/C started to calm my nerves and soothe my soul.

I hadn't even had a chance to investigate what the show was about.  I'd just seen the blurb of text that mentioned a "super" guy.  Super Hero musical?  Ok.  Could be fun.

What it actually is, as was beautifully captured in the opening number, is a musical about the inner lives of video game characters, specifically those in "Claudio Quest" (an homage to Mario World).   It's the story of two brothers, one a shining star always saving the day, and the other his dutiful and dear, one man pit crew.  It's whimsical, bright, beautifully designed, and very tight.  And while it's clever, it is more than that.  The writers did some major research and tapped into all the things that annoy and inspire us about them, and use the world of Claudio and Luis and Princess Poinsettia to explore questions of free will, the possibilities of defying expectations, and the yearning for something more.  The script is well structured, and supported by some wonderful performances.  There were a few times I thought about the trust that the writers place on the actors, because many lines in less capable hands could land rather flatly, but they are executed with full out commitment and just a smidgeon of irony which helps them really breathe.  Special props to Michael Schupbach and The Puppet Kitchen for the rendering of the angry mushrooms, eggplants and assorted creatures that populate Claudio's Kingdom.

I got to meet John Tartaglia after the show, and he could not have been more charming or considerate.  It was fun to be able to see everyone after, to get to tell them what a wonderful job they'd done,  and what joy they had brought.

If you are in the New York area you have seven more chances to catch this production in its current form, and I couldn't recommend it more.

Me Time

Remember that last post when I mentioned I'd been aching for some "me time"?  That little saying "be careful what you wish for" seems appropriate at this point.  It hit me on day two of being in the apartment (which is perfectly serviceable, but on the older side, complete with pock marked walls and creaking stairs) that every close friend I have in New York, save one, is currently out of town on some amazing adventure.  So I've been doing what I could solo... doing laundry, learning how to get around town, grocery shopping at the bodegas, and eating several meals alone.  It's been nothing but quality "ME Time" for the past three days and it's somehow different being alone when the place you are in is so familiar and friendly.  When everything is new and you are on your own, it can get daunting.

Thankfully, my friends and family have been immensely supportive and reminded me that as of this evening I have only been in New York for a week, and adjustment takes time.

I have been able to push through, though and not succumb completely to laziness (although I am a little ashamed to admit I purchased Outlander from Amazon Prime thanks to a gift card I received and have been devouring it like that rat Templeton from Charlotte's Web when he's let loose at the fair) and have been achieving at least one or two things a day.

I've updated my resumes (acting and survival jobs), sent inquiries to a company I have a connection with that may be hiring in the area, joined a group that offers discounted theatre tickets, and as of ten minutes ago I overcame my nerves and submitted my pic and res for a couple of Equity audition opportunities.  It's a good reminder that the lulls and doldrums will pop up, to be forgiving of myself, and to work through them when possible.

Tonight I went to the opening night of NYMF and saw Claudio Quest!  More on that tomorrow...

My First Two Days in New York City!

My first couple of days in "The Big Apple!!!" (PS: nobody here calls it that, says the person who's lived here for a total of four days and has in no way earned the right to be bitchy about the phrase "The BIG APPLE!!!) were a whirlwind of activity and adjustment.

I went straight from the airport to Queens, where I stayed with my friend Leslie and her husband (also my friend) Paul for the first couple of days.  Leslie is 1 part Tinkerbell, 1 part Gracie Allen (look her up), 1 part Robin Williams.  Times with her are whimsical and carefree, and if you aren't careful--- highly caloric.  I indulged in a couple things, but said "no" to a few others, so I ended up somewhere in the middle.  And what, with all this New York walking...

Some of the things we did:

• Juniors.   It's a deli with locations in Times Square and Brooklyn.  It's famous for it's cheesecake, and has DIVOONDEBAR potato pancakes.  My gawd.  A little sour cream, a little apple sauce...heaven! I've now been there four times, and should start branching out.  But what can I say?  I find something that works and I stick with it.  I had a cup of the matzoh ball soup, some pickles, and a Diet Coke, in case you wondered

• We went to the Actor's Equity Office and I got my Equity Card, which was a major step, and if you are in New York and want to audition for the good stuff, it is a must.  It's usually easier to get outside of NYC, so if you are a performer heading here, I would recommend making that a goal before you get here.  I got the card on first arrival because I had discovered two weeks ago that "Joe Hartman" was currently up for grabs as an Equity name, and for constancy sake, I wanted my SAG and Equity name to remain the same.

• We saw Iris, which I'd been dying to see.  It's the final film of Albert Maysles, part of the team that brought you the gay classic Grey Gardens.  His most recent doc features Iris Apfel, an "octogenarian starlet" who rose to fame in about the past ten years for her massive collection of jewels and fashions, and for her ingenious and audacious ways of displaying them.  She's a beacon for any young artist or individual today, as well as those who may have thought they'd aged out of...well, anything.

Of course, the audience at 2pm on a Thursday was mostly an older crowd, and a reminder that many times in New York, the audience is as entertaining as the film.  Right before it started a gentleman took a phone call (on speaker phone no less) in which he discusses the US Open with some unsuspecting soul for about 6 or seven minutes, blatantly ignoring all the people around him who were "not having it".  They sighed audibly, shouting "turn off your phone!" and such, as I tried to hide my delight.  Quick Quiz!!:  Do you think this man ended the call when the previews started?  Answer:  Hell no!  He kept right on going.  Finally the manager of the theatre came rushing in, arms waving, and gave him the stink eye.  The older gent casually finished his call and apologized. 

Cut to after the film.  An older man in the first couple of rows had fallen asleep, and we gently woke him.  It so startled him he gave  little shout, and his eyes momentarily increased three times in size.  He was thankful we'd awoken him, and so dear.  He just lit up talking about the film and how he'd loved it so much the first time he had to come back and see it again.

•   We went to the dollar store for some remarkable savings...

• We checked out The Museum of the Moving Image for "free" night, and saw the Mad Men exhibit.  It was wonderful!!  They have a recreation of the writers room, sets from the show that were moved and reassembled, and many costumes, as well as the inspiration boards that were created for each character using vintage images.   

• We watched I Am Big Bird (about Sesame Street puppeteer Caroll Spinney) on streaming as we ate egg salad sandwiches.  It was another really inspiring piece about following your own dreams, in spite of what others might, and definitely will say.  

Needless to say, after that much excitement I was ready to have some relaxing me time, and the past couple of days have been devoted to adjusting to my new home for the next three weeks, unpacking, and arranging things to make them feel like mine.  I've also done a shit ton of walking, and naturally getting lost.  Not much, I haven't wandered for hours, but a walk that should normally take ten minutes might take me twenty, as I home in on my destination like a very uncoordinated bat, bumping around in the streets until I finally make it to where I intended to go.  After a week or two in New York I should develop some grade A legs, if God is at all sympathetic.

Too Darn Hot

I've learned a few things in the brief time I've spent in New York City.  First and foremost, I have learned the difference between summer in Austin, Texas, and summer in NYC.

In Austin, yes, it is hot.  Much hotter than here.  90-100 degrees many days, and with the humidity it can seem like more.  But there is one thing that Austin has, that New York does not... an all consuming obsession with air conditioning.  It's deeply embedding in our psyches.  We keep our homes perfectly air conditioned with our central A/C.  We drive to and from work in portable A/Cs.  We carry sweaters to the office to drape on our shoulders for god sake, because the office is always cold, if not downright frigid.  Movie theaters, grocery stores, malls, all these places are pumped full of frigid air.  It's so cool that I have yearned for days I've only seen in films, back in the forties, when  young women and men lounged languidly on wicker chairs on their screened in porches as they sipped lemonade in front of a fan, reading the Sunday comics.  "Oh well" I would think to myself with slight regret, "those days are gone.

No.  Actually they are not.


Here in New York, sure...places are cooled.  And yet... I've walked a great deal here, in the heat, back and forth, around blocks, up and down the stairs.  And the subway?  Certainly not freezing.  Nor is central air conditioning something one can count on in every apartment here. Most of the time they will have the window units, if they have A/C at all.  My home for the first couple of nights?  Window unit.  My home for the next three weeks?  No A/C at all.  Cue the forties music as I start squeezing the lemons.

It actually reminds me a lot of when I was a kid, around four, and my mother and I were staying in the  upstairs bedroom of my aunt and uncle while we looked for a more permanent place to stay.  Mom and I would lie with the lights out, window open, fan blowing, as we played some children's record and I fell asleep listening to "The Little White Duck", and "The Teddy Bear's Picnic".  At the time I didn't think too much of it.  It was so hot my arms stuck to whatever part of my body they lay upon.  Of course now, those are good times.  Golden even.  And just hearing "Mares Eat Oats and Does Eat Oats" gives me a glow.

So here's hoping that as I lie on top of the sheets with fans blowing, that I am making fond memories of my early days in New York.

Doubts

Tonight, I am... astir.  Thinking to myself, WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING???!!!??  This New York Experiment could turn out to be just that, an experiment.  In the meantime I am leaving my little dog behind, leaving my friends behind, stable living, my car, my job.  Floof!  Outthefuckingwindow.  Can I come back?  Yes.  But what kind of shambles will my life be, and I will have said goodbye to the only escapist dream I have left, of going to New York and making a living as an artist.  Because if this fails, that dream has suffered a serious blow.  And I don't know how to fucking do anything else.  I'm not saying "I am genius actor!  I know nothing, but the theatre!"  I am saying "what little I do know is in the most airy and unreliable professions.  I'm a pretty good actor, writer, decent singer.  So if I don't make it as a performer I can always fall back on the supremely secure position of SHORT STORY WRITER?!!!?!?!??

The thing I'm having the hardest time with is leaving my dog behind.  My sweet little mutt Stella, whom I adopted 8 months ago.  Now, listen.  My rule has always been never adopt an animal until you are sure you can make a lifetime commitment.  I'd never gotten a dog until now, because I wasn't secure enough.  And for 18 years I had a cat who wouldn't tolerate another animal.  And after his passing, I got Stella.  And now New York???  Before you worry about Stella any more than necessary, she will be staying with my folks in a lovely house where she will be well loved by dog loving people.  My mother is home a lot of the day and very excited to be having her.  She's looking forward to walking her, and Stella has a great yard.  But she won't have me.  And she's a skittish little dog with these sad soulful eyes, who's been at my side since I got her.  I'm worried she'll think I abandoned her.  And these little pound puppies...well, you never know what they've been through.  It's keeping me up nights.

Right now, my plan is to get to NYC and settle myself, looking for a place that will accept dogs.  And yet, would this be the best thing for her?  Who knows how often I would be home?  She'd have to be walked 3 times a day, she doesn't like loud environments...  I'm praying on this one, trying to figure out what's best.  I know she is safe and loved with my folks.  But is it best for her to be with me?  Or in little old Round Rock.  Am I scarring her little dog psyche?

I keep asking myself these questions, running over this in my head, wondering if I'm doing right by her, even though at this point I've already packed, gotten a storage unit, booked a flight, promised to house sit... in 9 days I am outta here!

I'm praying on it, hoping that either answers or comfort will come my way.

Stress...

Three weeks to go, and the voices are growing louder.  Which voices?  Those tiny little whispers that tell me I'm forgetting something, that I haven't planned this out well enough ( I probably haven't) that I still have to pack, choose a storage company, figure out which things to ship, sell the car, make some repairs to the car in order for it to be sold...   I've never loved uncertainty, and naturally it will be by my side for the next few months, if not years.  So, at the risk of seeming like a know-it-all (I'm not, and all three of these techniques come to me from someone else) for anyone else dealing with a stressful situation, I've listed a few ways I've been using to combat feelings of being overwhelmed.

• Entertain the positives.  It's so easy to entertain the negative "what ifs".  It feels like that's my default mode sometimes.  But positive outcomes are just as likely as negative ones.  And which thoughts are more motivating?  Positive begets more positive.  And imagining what if... I go to New York and fall deeper in love with the city than I am now?  What if I meet some great people and form strong friendships?  What if I find classes and opportunities that enrich my creative life?  What if I soak up all the sights and it fuels my writing?  These are the possibilities that I was in touch with when I made the decision to move, and those are the thoughts to keep close as I step out.  

•  Baby Steps.  I have three weeks to do this move, and tackling one question at a time, one day at a time will make the fears smaller bit by bit.  And the longer I wait the bigger they become in my head.  It's funny because the tasks themselves are never that difficult.  For example:  find a nearby storage unit.  However, when tied to all the emotions and worries, a small task like this can feel like ten tasks in one.  It's not.  It's one little task.  

• Remember that old adage, "it will pass".  A friend once told me that "it will all get handled.  It may not be the most comfortable time of your life, and it won't be handled perfectly-- nothing is, but it will be handled, the stress will pass, and make way for better times. That's a certainty"  Good words.  It also reminds me of the Bible passage "yea, though I walk through the shadow of the Valley of Death".  The operative word here is "through".  You aren't walking endlessly in misery, you are walking momentarily through a time of uncertainty.

Of course it's easy to read these and let them soothe momentarily, and then let them float on out of mind.  What's challenging is to use them continually, and make them as habitual as the self destructive patterns sometimes seem.

Chapter Two

Call it "mid-life crisis or  call it "hastening my second act", but after ten years in Austin, I have made a major decision, and taken a leap of faith.  In truth it's something I've always dreamed of doing- and it's also the thing I am most afraid of doing.  As they say, those two things are usually one and the same.

The first, and (up until recently) only time I went to New York, I was twenty years old.  Back then I was touring in a musical (a children's musical in which I wore a giant teddy bear outfit and a little jumper, God help me) and we had a stop just outside Manhattan.  We had limo service to and from town, stayed in a gorgeous hotel, and were pretty much spoiled.  In short, we had it pretty good and I saw the town under the best of circumstances.  And yet, more than anything, I was overwhelmed.  I fought my way through crowds of people moving with deep intent!  I saw a rat in the city!  I paid twenty dollars for a sandwich!  I felt like I spent all my time asking for directions, and while I loved feeling like I was in a movie, it was all too much.  When I left, I heaved a metaphorical sigh of relief and never thought I would go back.  Ever.  I'd been to Ferncliff and placed yellow roses at Judy Garland's grave site.  I.  Was.  Done.  Heart of American culture or not, no thanks.

Fast forward through a few years in L.A., and nearly ten in Austin.  As much as I love it, I miss the urbanity, the creativity, the opportunity of a big city.  Austin is my childhood home, and I couldn't help but feel like I was avoiding my dreams and passing time.  I've been performing here, but making a living?  There aren't many people in my field in this town, who are doing this.  They all have day-jobs.  And me?  Is it that I was never truly able to think of anything else I could do?  Yes.  My skills are not practical, my brain is not practical, and if that's the case, the doubter in me has thought "New York is the last place you should be."  "What if you aren't tough enough?  What if you can't support yourself?  Yes there are tons of opportunities and there are many more people out there pursuing them.  People with drive and guts and nerve.  Have you got that?  Forget about the crime and the crowds and the dirt, could you feed yourself?"

As a consolation prize I considered a move to Chicago, which is not as frightening as New York and is right in the heart of the Mid-West.  And yet...it's also very hard to support yourself as an actor there.  If you are in Chicago, as in Austin, as in Minneapolis, etc.  You will most likely always be supporting yourself through alternative means.  So it was less risk, but less reward.  And even when I thought of doing it, I knew I was taking the easy route.  And hadn't I done that so much in my life?  Not that New York is an easy place for people to make a living from performance, believe me.  I know.  But being a performer ANYWHERE is a struggle.  Pick your poison.  Big pond, little pond, they all have their drawbacks.  This shit ain't for babies.

In the meantime, friends of mine were moving out there.  They were working.  And new little youngies straight out of college moved there all the time.  "Good luck!" I said, all the while wondering how long it would be before they came back with their tails between their legs.  And you know what?  Some came back.  And some didn't.  And did I judge those who returned?  Who tried it and didn't want that dream?  No.  I didn't.  What else is life for?  Did I envy those that went?  That sought out their fortune like those three little pigs in the story?  Regardless of the outcome? Yes.  I did.

In the meantime, here in town, those that didn't head out to NYC were having babies, going into grad school, finishing up their grad programs, and what was I doing?  Where was it leading me? 
Then last year my best friend and his wife (also a good friend) joined those intrepid souls out in NYC.  In February I visited the two of them, and some other dear friends out there.  And what was it like?  I got lost on the subway, I lost my fitbit, at one point I left my keys behind in the apartment.  In those moments I thought to myself, "this city would eat you ALIVE, bitch!!!!  ALIIIVE!"  And yet, I also found my way to several places, became acquainted with the subway systems and the various apps that help you through life there.  I saw six shows, some amazing, some not.  I went to a lot of places on my own, and had a blast.  And I learned some tips on how to save funds and live on a budget, I met a couple of great people...  There was life here!  And so many gays.  The city was teeming with gays of all shapes and sizes.  A lot of them very friendly, and not all shoved into one tiny little part of town.

I learned something else on that visit.  Everyone in New York is humping on through.  The struggle is real.  And there were so many crazy people on subways and in bookstores that I no longer felt like the weirdest one in the room.  Occasionally someone sneered at me, or honked, or was bitchy.  Guess what?  Those people are like that to everyone.  It no longer felt directed at me, and the experiences no longer felt targeted towards me alone.  I didn't worry about having the best shoes, or the best hair, because right next to me there was someone with a busted up pair of flip flops in Winter, and then on the other side there was a man in glossy designer boots.  I was somewhere in-between.  I was myself, and that was somehow all that mattered.   And I wanted to be me...in NYC.  I wanted to be around those iconic statues and landmarks that made you feel like a character in a place you'd read about in a book.   It was as if The Emerald City was real, but it was called "New York".  Life might suck, and believe me, I knew life in New York would have it's horrific days, but at least it would  be sucking in New York.

I came back with a secret intent to move there, and thought to myself "someday".  A month passed, and another.  I stepped back into the real world, and thought several times of letting the dream go.  "New York is a great place to visit," I would hear someone say, "but it's some other fucking thing to LIVE there."  I was sure they were probably right, especially for me.  But the end of my lease came near.  My roommate was moving out farther South for school.  I didn't know where I was going.  I'd said halfheartedly that I was moving, maybe in the Fall, but I said it more to convince myself than I was saying something I believed to be true.  Should I get another six month lease? 

And then, something changed.  Slowly, at first.  I grew stronger in my conviction, started to imagine myself there, to plot out solutions to possible challenges.  A couple of acting gigs here didn't pan out, and my desire to audition for new ones waned.  I got new headshots done by a photographer who knew what the market was like in New York.  My folks offered to love and care for my dog Stella while I figured out living arrangements.  Friends sent links to resources for "gypsy housing" and I allowed myself to dream.  Next, I declared my intention through social media and the response was huge, and so encouraging.  I found out I could pretty easily get my Equity card through my SAG membership.  And then I was offered the opportunity to house sit for about a month, with other possibilities beyond that.

I took a leap.  Saturday I purchased a one-way ticket to New York City departing July 1st.  Yesterday I gave my notice at the Title company where I'm employed.  Over the next month I will pack up my apartment and say goodbye to my friends and embark on a new life.  Not sure how long I will last there, but I'm not intending to give up easily.  I'm staying open to opportunities, and taking small practical steps every day.  It's strange because it feels like there are A LOT of fresh out of school little dumplings heading to New York, and not so many grizzled veterans, but I've always been a little late to the party, metaphorically speaking, and I always get there just the same.

Weathering the Storm

I'm currently tucked up in the corner of my second story apartment, having weathered the pelting rains and seventy mile winds of the past few days.  There are warnings active until 10PM, but as of this moment it feels like everything has subsided, and for that I am grateful.  Of course, we aren't completely out of the woods as the rain is still coming, and continual flooding is likely.  The maintenance man encouraged me to park farther up the hill, as my apartment is right next to the little pond, which could flood up into the lot.

The worst came Saturday night with the phone warnings of a possible tornado, and the alert to "take cover now".  I was with friends, watching Mortdecai (in case you were wondering, this is the Johnny Depp heist film which you can definitely skip) when the alerts came in, so we turned off the television and snuggled up on the floor in the middle of the living room, as far from the windows as we could get.  Eventually the alert was called off, and once the rain had slowed a bit, I headed back to little Stella, certain that she was shivering underneath my bed, where she had taken to hiding off and on lately, storm or no storm.

I was surprised by the carnage in our complex.  It's a very woodsy place, loaded with trees, many of which were uprooted.  There was a downed tree almost completely blocking the passage to my place, and there were loads of trees who's branches had been peeled off, revealing the tender wood beneath.
There were roof tiles and pieces of trees littering the grass, and a couple of cars had been hit by tumbled trees.  It was no tornado, but it was more significant than anything I had experienced lately.

Today brought more rain, though without the winds, and more shivering from Stella.  I'd gone up to Round Rock to visit my folks and gotten caught in the storm on the way back (incidentally cars driving 60 miles an hour during such conditions, the slickness of the road is not the only reason to slow the fuck down.  It's also courteous to the safety of your fellow traveller's because you are pelting them with a lot less torrents of water at fifty miles an hour than you are at sixty-five as you rush to get past us).

Currently, little Stella is curled at my feet, and if I can get her to go outside (she doesn't like getting wet in the best of circumstances) we'll probably pop up some corn and watch a suspense film before returning to work tomorrow.