Had my first NYC celebrity sighting I was actually excited about last night. Tina Fey came up to me and said “Hi, table for three please.” Then I sat them to their table, handed out menu’s and she said “thank you”. I only noticed afterward that my hands had been shaking the whole time.
This is currently what I’m struggling with. For the past month I’ll randomly apply to entry level jobs for public relations, writing etc. and so far about 4 places have emailed me back requesting interviews and every time I come up with some excuse as to why I cannot attend them. I’m not sure what would be best for me. I don’t know if I should finish this internship up even though I really feel useless there, just to see what opportunities may come of it. I may get some production assistant jobs out of it, and I may actually enjoy them. I dont know. I’m helping again on the set of NY Ink on Friday, this time for a whole 8 hours as opposed to 3 so I’ll see what I think of it. I also think about the fact that I’m going to visit Justin in Costa Rica in June for two weeks and am currently trying to save the money to make it an entire month. What sort of big girl job would let me leave for an entire month? I also don’t know what career job would make me happy. A job like that just seems so permanent, so fixed and set for my future. I know technically I could always quit but the hesitation is there nonetheless. I also really want to travel and do more with my life that having a committed 9 to 5 would prevent. At the same time I need money really bad, and starting some semblance of a career would definitely help with that. Especially since I can no longer rely on my parents at all anymore. My dad is about to file for bankruptcy. My family is falling apart. But that is an entire other post on its own. I just know there’s no going back or falling back on them. It’s just me now and I need to start making some decisions.
I worked the dinner shift last night and took the 1 train home instead of the A because it was after midnight and I know the 1 runs better late at night than the A. The 1 is about six blocks away from my apartment as opposed to the A which is one. I live in Washington Heights, which isn’t the nicest neighborhood in NYC. No one around me speaks English, litter spreads around the streets like wild fire, an obvious lady of the night hangs out by the local Dunkin Donuts, my building smells like a combination of beans and weed, and I get constantly harassed while walking to the subway, so I now speed walk with my head down everywhere I go. They don’t say anything rude or mean, it’s actually usually rather nice, the most common comment being “God bless you, gorgeous” “God bless you, sweetie” “God bless you, linda” I’m not sure why they insist on blessing me but I guess it’s nice of them to wish that upon me. Anyway, back to the other night. By the time I got off the subway it was around 1am and there were not too many people out. It can be scary at night by myself so I walked very fast, practically running to my apartment. Half way home I get stopped by a younger looking man asking in a hispanic accent:
“Excuse me miss?”
“Yes?”
“Is that a vintage bag you’re wearing?”
“Umm no, I got it at H&M”
“Oh…well it looks very nice on you.”
This odd exchange at 1 in the morning under a bridge was such a bizarre encounter that I think in order to really appreciate it, you just had to be there. But it made me realize how little credit I’ve given this place. Everyone I meet in the city gives me shit for living in Washington Heights but I’ve honestly never had any unpleasant remarks made at me. I need to just walk with my head held high and appreciate the nice things these gentlemen say to me. Even if it is regarding my purse in the middle of the night.
From now on I am going to keep a real blog here of my time in New York City. So far it has been very unpredictable considering I have no idea what I’m doing with my life, which is both exciting and frustrating at the same time. This will be an account of that emotional dichotomy as well as discoveries about myself and others along the way. More for a need to express things outside my own head than anything else.
“It’s really sort of a sore spot because we live in what I call an age of conformity, where you have to travel with the herd. If you don’t travel with the herd and if you don’t say yes to that little man who’s leading the pack, you’re branded as a rebel. I am trying desperately - I hope - to be an individual. I think there’s quite a bit of difference. Actually, I can’t stand them, they drive me out of my mind. The rebels. I see them at parties and they sit in corners looking terrible sensitive and introverted, and yet my feeling is they’re just as mediocre as the people they despise who are the conformists. Their answers are always pre-determined, the rebel always has to say no to everything society asks of him just as the conformist always has to say yes.” - Paul Newman, on being labelled a rebel
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