Oh hey there.

Long time no write. I have had my fingers in way too many pies, just like Toca Rivera. Even if I'm not actually busy at any given moment, my brain is occupied to the Nth degree.

I'm moving to New York in the near future. I have been waiting for this my whole life. My career and personal goals have undergone so many changes in recent times. There was a time in the past couple of months that I was convinced I would work for a non-profit in the DC area. I applied for jobs in DC and tried to find a great apartment, all the while stifling my dreams to move to NYC. I decided fairly recently that it was too important to push to the back of my mind. Sometimes you have to be reckless and crazy to achieve your dreams. I certainly have been both. Constant trips back and forth between DC and NYC have resulted in my extreme exhaustion. But the light at the end of the (Lincoln) tunnel is keeping me going. I worked a seven hour promotional gig in Times Square yesterday. I found out about that gig last Saturday. I don't even know how that managed to happen. All I know is that I'm loving every moment of trying to find my spot in the city. Even though I applied for a bajillion office jobs in NYC, actually spending time there reminds me of how much I want to avoid that scene. I don't want to be chained to a desk for forty hours a week, and that was something I let myself forget. It's so much easier to not pursue your dreams because you can never really fail. I need to work in the theatre. I need to pursue acting. I need to live in NYC. It's that simple.

My first few months in NYC are going to be rough, but I am confident that it'll all work out for the best. After all, fate has to play some sort of part, right? If a series of unsuccessful attempts at creating a life for myself in DC led me to this point, maybe everything truly happens for a reason. I'm starting to believe that things work out how they should.

Sometimes It's Necessary to Go a Long Distance Out of the Way in Order to Come Back a Short Distance Correctly.

I used to hate that quote from "Zoo Story." Actually, that's not true. I was afraid of it. Whenever I would explain my ambitious plan of moving to New York immediately following graduation, people explained that waiting a bit and being practical was probably the best way to go. I would always immediately say something along the lines of "I'm doing it. I have to be in New York." The message that the Albee quote is sending is that not every path has to go directly to where you want to end up. I hated the idea of not doing exactly what I had planned for so long. I knew what I was going to do and I had to do it immediately.

Since then, however, that quote has sort of become my mantra. For financial reasons, I have remained in DC. I've always enjoyed DC, but I never thought that it possessed whatever that thing is that New York has. That thing that causes New York composers and filmmakers to create works solely about their beloved city. Is there a song that goes "DC, DC, a hell of a town!" No. But there is something amazing about DC. It's pretty frequently that I find some new area in DC that I love. I guess I never really gave it a chance until I had to. The reason that the Albee quote rings so true right now is that I haven't gotten to the place I've always dreamed I would be. I'm still living at home and working in DC. But I'm making money and taking acting and singing lessons, things that will serve me well whenever I choose to move to New York. The rational part of my brain tells me time and time again that I should wait until I'm fully ready to move. Wait until I've secured a job or an apartment or a performance opportunity.

I honestly have no clue when the move will happen. And I'm getting depressed now thinking about the reality that it may never happen...or at least not for a while. But because I love New York so much, and because I've always planned on being there, I know it has to happen. Maybe not this year, maybe not next year. Maybe not even by the time I'm 25. But I'll get there some how. I owe it to myself.

Sometimes it's necessary to go a long distance out of the way in order to come back a short distance correctly.

Insert Witty Title Here

This is going to be a fairly angst-ridden blog post, so please be prepared.

Senior year of college is such a confusing time. There are so many paths one can take. There's the dilemma of whether or not having a good time outweighs the importance of getting all your work done in a timely fashion. Half of me wants to go crazy and have the most fun ever, and the other half of me wants to buckle down and be serious. I guess that's what makes this year such a critical year. Most of college is fairly aimless and low stakes. For me, anyway. Yes, I know, I'm a theatre major. But that doesn't mean I haven't been given my fair share of work. Thus far, my college career has felt like something I've floated through. I haven't had major responsibilities because my parents are still supporting me. I've had assignments or tasks that I've had to get done, but I've some how made it this far without really giving my all. And that goes for essentially every arena of my life. I've never given 100% to my school work, and I've never given 100% to my personal life. I've turned down countless social opportunities (okay, maybe I'm exaggerating) due to my constant exhaustion and low motivation level. Most college students go out multiple times a week - how they afford it, I'll never know. This year, for me anyway, has also been confusing in terms of what I want. Do I want to be single or attached? Carefree or committed? I view things as very black and white. Another question: am I ready for ANY of this? For my future? For another person to enter my life? Holy crap, this is confusing.

This year is such a turning point because I feel like it's somewhere in between adolescence and adulthood. While in college, it's all about meeting people and downing cheap beer after cheap beer. If only life continued like that forever. This year was the first time I've ever really thought about what's next. Now it's all I think about. I'm not a fan of this new interest in my future. It scares the bejebus (I googled that spelling...I have no clue if it's correct : / ) out of me. To top it all off, I've never been very good at transitions. I act like I'm still on the last step but feel like I want to move on. Or I act like I've matured and am ready for adulthood but secretly just want to be reckless. I'm never very constant in what I want, think or do.

What's going on with my brain?? Senior year is the pits.

The Future is Uncertain.

Oh hey! I haven't seen you in a while. I'm much more focused on my food blog (excluding these past few weeks...winter break is not the time for productivity), but this is the place for all non-food things.

The future is freaking me out to no end. My ultimate goal is moving to New York, but that's 100% contingent on whether or not I'm able to get a job. I'm not even sure what kind of job I want! The ideal situation for me would be a ridiculously affordable apartment downtown, a job with work that would not leave the office and acting classes at some fabulous studio at night. I don't think I'm crazy for thinking this is a possibility. If I'm able to secure a job that pays somewhere in the $30,000/year vicinity, that gives me $2500/month. If the apartment is somewhere between $700 and $1000/month, that gives me lots of extra money for utilities and other necessities. I have no doubt in my mind that I will have a very tight money situation regardless of the great deals I find, but the idea of actually living in the city of my dreams keeps me going. Because it's becoming a buyers' market (due that whole recession thing), I am fairly confident that I'll find an apartment. The main issue is finding an actually job. That's what really frightens me. I'm constantly scouring Craig's List for job and apartment listings and have found things that would definitely work for me, but none of this is applicable until graduation. That is bad news bears. I guess I just gotta have faith.

I love you, New York.

Oh Hey!

Oh my goodigoodigoodness. I have been totally absent from this blog for over a month.

I have a good reason, though.

Because of a conversation with the Arts editor for my school's newspaper, I have started a blog chronicling my attempts at being domestic (IE, learning to cook). Here it is.

Other than the new activities I have created for myself, I'm not doing too much. I am, however, continuing to feel less stressed than usual. I guess it really is all about mind over matter - or whatever the phrase is.

On another note, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ROOMMATE!

My Grandmere And Poppy.

My father's parents are two of the most amazing people I have ever had the privilege of encountering.

My Grandmere is a very petite French woman who refuses to be in public without her very very high heels. She is normally seen with a Sonia Rykiel top and black pants, and of course her very very high, very very French heels. Until very recently, she was always fully made up with emerald green eyeshadow, lipstick and blush (in her words, rouge). Her hair, before she stopped paying as much attention to it, was always a ridiculous shade of dark burgundy. As I've made pretty clear so far, she is very French. Interestingly enough, however, she was born and raised in Marrakech, Morocco. But she'd never let you know it. As far as anyone outside of the family knows, she's from Lyon. It sounds pretty weird, but it's one of the reasons I love my Grandmere. She turns her nose up at anything that is too American or Eastern European (including my Poppy's family's religious customs). She is also extremely loving, and will constantly tell me in Arabic that she would die for me.

My Poppy is very American, comparatively. He hails from Braddock, Pennsylvania, and refers to DC as "Warshington." In his working days, he was a professor of Anthropology at various universities on the East Coast. He has an almost full head of white hair, which is finally thinning after 89 years of life. He is incredibly smart and well-spoken. Sometimes he says things that probably shouldn't be said, but this is mostly due to the whole losing-one's-inhibitions-as-one-ages thing. He is pretty pessimistic by nature, but is in constant praise of me and his other granddaughters.

My Grandmere and Poppy met while Poppy was serving in World War II. Grandmere was a nurse. Poppy walked into her dressing room while she was getting ready for the Red Cross dance they were both attending. Poppy took her back to America, and they got married. Strangely enough, Grandmere didn't know Poppy's real name was Milton until very close to, if not on, their wedding day. Poppy always went by Jack, which was a shortening of his last name, Jacobs. Sixty-odd years later, they're still crazy in love.

My Grandmere and Poppy bicker all the time, especially since he's been in rehabilitation after one too many falls. She doesn't understand how hard it is for him to try to get better. She thinks she can take care of him herself, but it's an impossible task for one person. Even through all the conflict, my Grandmere and Poppy love each other very, very much.

And we love them, too.

Relax - Take It Easy.

I don't think it's any surprise to any of my readers (reader, really) that I have severe anxiety. My brain likes to grab at anything that even remotely resembles an issue and hang onto it for as long as possible. Even if nothing is actually wrong, my brain will go over the past few hours, days, weeks and find something to be anxious about. I feel anxious before I can even find something to be anxious about. It's like the age old question: Which came first, the anxiety or the conflict?

Recently, I've been feeling slightly more calm (KNOCK ON WOOD). It's exhilarating! Go through my posts and I challenge you to find ONE that states something such as this. This is good news!

It's a little bothersome that it took me so long to feel at peace. However, better late than never.

I've finally come to realize that a) things aren't that serious, b) there's no point in freaking out unless there is an actual reason to, and c) life's too short to worry all the time.

Don't worry, be happy.