Deer in the headlights
Always, the first weeks of January make me feel like a deer in the headlights.
My New Year's was quiet. I resolved (again) to BE SELFISH, to take up more room in my life rather than playing Jeeves to the Bertie of Life. Someone I trust once told me that I have attributes which could put me in the limelight, but whenever that light turns toward me, I slink away. It's true.
And yet I love to sit next to the person in the limelight. I realized this again last week when I hung out two nights with a friend who is going to be very famous very soon. I won't say who he is because many of you will have seen him on TV -- and if you haven't, you will. (Right now he's one of those faces you recognize without knowing the name. But you'll know the name soon-- believe me.)
Everywhere we went, people would come up to us on the street and say, "Oh my God, it's YOU!" He'd shake hands and chat. Most of these people were out of towners because New Yorkers don't even act that way for DeNiro, usually-- but it was sweet and he'd blush a little and they'd take pictures and leave us full of "I can't wait to tell my friends back home!" exclamations. There were points where we couldn't get 20 feet down the sidewalk without people rushing him. It was funny, in a way. Mostly it was exciting to watch, because I've known him since I first moved here and his star just keeps rising.
And I felt a weird sense of pride that I'm not sure I like, being the person with him. I mean, I am really happy for my friend, and I am psyched that he's getting there. He works hard and he deserves it.
But getting in a taxi with my friend after a gushing group of Texans encircled and leapt around him, I thought, Cupcake-- yo! Why aren't YOU working that hard? What in fact are you doing with your life right now?
It's not that I want to be a star. I'm too shy for that. I do theatre because I've always done it and I feel safe, for the period of time I am onstage. It feels secure to me because for that period of time I am performing, I know exactly what will happen to me in the next several minutes. It's a relief. I feel invulnerable because there are no surprises. I'm a very good actress, and with a longer set of nails and thinner thighs, I might have pursued it as a career and been successful. But I don't have long nails, and no one ever called me svelte. And at the end of the day I am a realistic girl, and I know that the lack of those things-- and mostly the lack of driving ambition-- means that it wouldn't have worked out.
But like everyone, I want to feel good about what I am doing. And right now, all I'm doing is waiting. And the waiting gets me in a funk, and then I don't write and I don't feel good about myself when I'm not writing.
What am I waiting for, you ask? I'm...
Waiting to sell a crappy apartment building I own in Vermont. The deal may be dead in the water, or it may simply be moving at the speed of continental drift. I can't tell, but it's driving me nuts. Vermont has it's own time-frame and continental drift seems speedy there.
Waiting to move out of this house where I'm sitting, the one I used to own and into the house I am buying. As I type, the new owners are working on the illegal apartment they're building in the basement. I went down earlier and discovered that yes, they are still using my electricity to do their construction. I am surrounded by an ever-growing forest of stacked boxes, and it's starting to feel surreal.
Waiting to delve into three free-lance jobs that I've been sort of working on for two months but not really able to move forward on for various reasons.
Waiting for my best friend's wedding which is Jan 14.
Waiting for my car to die.
Waiting for a check for $6000 for work that I did three years ago. The person I did the work for died, and the judge has to sign off on the invoices that were sent in by the lawyers. It's been "any day now" for the last year.
I feel like my whole life is on the other side of a glass wall. Every day I make calls to push things forward, to try to jump in the pool that will be my future and then just as I'm about to leap off the edge I look down and notice there's no water in there.
Shades of Seymour Glass.
I miss Casey. I felt at least while she was alive that I was grounded. I knew where I belonged, because Casey was there. That loss messed with my head, more than you'd think it would. Now I'm feeling like I need community and I don't know where to get it. I guess I should try to find a job that isn't essentially self-employment, but I also know that nobody gets rich working for somebody else, and I am hesitant to join another firm that might be as soul-killing as the job I left in October.
Listen to me. I'm in a funk. It's the damn First Week of January thing. That's all.
I'm shutting up now and going back to make phone calls to move things forward.
My acting coach says "When you encounter something that that gets in the way of your work-- That thing is your work."
So I'm going to have to work on my attitude, I guess.
Send me good thoughts, guys. Fan positive energy through the ether in this general direction.
Happy New Year. Meh. Okay. I guess I mean that.
My New Year's was quiet. I resolved (again) to BE SELFISH, to take up more room in my life rather than playing Jeeves to the Bertie of Life. Someone I trust once told me that I have attributes which could put me in the limelight, but whenever that light turns toward me, I slink away. It's true.
And yet I love to sit next to the person in the limelight. I realized this again last week when I hung out two nights with a friend who is going to be very famous very soon. I won't say who he is because many of you will have seen him on TV -- and if you haven't, you will. (Right now he's one of those faces you recognize without knowing the name. But you'll know the name soon-- believe me.)
Everywhere we went, people would come up to us on the street and say, "Oh my God, it's YOU!" He'd shake hands and chat. Most of these people were out of towners because New Yorkers don't even act that way for DeNiro, usually-- but it was sweet and he'd blush a little and they'd take pictures and leave us full of "I can't wait to tell my friends back home!" exclamations. There were points where we couldn't get 20 feet down the sidewalk without people rushing him. It was funny, in a way. Mostly it was exciting to watch, because I've known him since I first moved here and his star just keeps rising.
And I felt a weird sense of pride that I'm not sure I like, being the person with him. I mean, I am really happy for my friend, and I am psyched that he's getting there. He works hard and he deserves it.
But getting in a taxi with my friend after a gushing group of Texans encircled and leapt around him, I thought, Cupcake-- yo! Why aren't YOU working that hard? What in fact are you doing with your life right now?
It's not that I want to be a star. I'm too shy for that. I do theatre because I've always done it and I feel safe, for the period of time I am onstage. It feels secure to me because for that period of time I am performing, I know exactly what will happen to me in the next several minutes. It's a relief. I feel invulnerable because there are no surprises. I'm a very good actress, and with a longer set of nails and thinner thighs, I might have pursued it as a career and been successful. But I don't have long nails, and no one ever called me svelte. And at the end of the day I am a realistic girl, and I know that the lack of those things-- and mostly the lack of driving ambition-- means that it wouldn't have worked out.
But like everyone, I want to feel good about what I am doing. And right now, all I'm doing is waiting. And the waiting gets me in a funk, and then I don't write and I don't feel good about myself when I'm not writing.
What am I waiting for, you ask? I'm...
Waiting to sell a crappy apartment building I own in Vermont. The deal may be dead in the water, or it may simply be moving at the speed of continental drift. I can't tell, but it's driving me nuts. Vermont has it's own time-frame and continental drift seems speedy there.
Waiting to move out of this house where I'm sitting, the one I used to own and into the house I am buying. As I type, the new owners are working on the illegal apartment they're building in the basement. I went down earlier and discovered that yes, they are still using my electricity to do their construction. I am surrounded by an ever-growing forest of stacked boxes, and it's starting to feel surreal.
Waiting to delve into three free-lance jobs that I've been sort of working on for two months but not really able to move forward on for various reasons.
Waiting for my best friend's wedding which is Jan 14.
Waiting for my car to die.
Waiting for a check for $6000 for work that I did three years ago. The person I did the work for died, and the judge has to sign off on the invoices that were sent in by the lawyers. It's been "any day now" for the last year.
I feel like my whole life is on the other side of a glass wall. Every day I make calls to push things forward, to try to jump in the pool that will be my future and then just as I'm about to leap off the edge I look down and notice there's no water in there.
Shades of Seymour Glass.
I miss Casey. I felt at least while she was alive that I was grounded. I knew where I belonged, because Casey was there. That loss messed with my head, more than you'd think it would. Now I'm feeling like I need community and I don't know where to get it. I guess I should try to find a job that isn't essentially self-employment, but I also know that nobody gets rich working for somebody else, and I am hesitant to join another firm that might be as soul-killing as the job I left in October.
Listen to me. I'm in a funk. It's the damn First Week of January thing. That's all.
I'm shutting up now and going back to make phone calls to move things forward.
My acting coach says "When you encounter something that that gets in the way of your work-- That thing is your work."
So I'm going to have to work on my attitude, I guess.
Send me good thoughts, guys. Fan positive energy through the ether in this general direction.
Happy New Year. Meh. Okay. I guess I mean that.
posted by Cupcakegrrl at Monday, January 02, 2006
3 Comments:
Know what you mean cupcake girl, yesterday I was wishing for a nonviolent world, today I just want everyone to go away. Jaunuary brings more pressure on us all and its not like there isn't enough in July! Hang in there, we'll get through this first week of the year.
I feel the same way about the waiting. Only, I'm not quite sure what I'm waiting for. But I'm about to dive into "my life" though I know that whole "life is what happens while you're making other plans" cliche. I'm coming to JC to visit you ASAP.
Waiting does suck. Whewn things happen one can actually do things to deal with them.
On another note: when you are out of your house with the new illegal apartment being constructed, call the fire marshal and/or building inspector on them. It will make you fel better. ;)
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