Sunday, September 30, 2012


I am typing this week’s blog post from a laundry-mat because I find the plebian setting to be soothing on my artistic musings… and also my laundry needs to be done. Watching my colorful clothes circumnavigate their cylindrical chamber I find my thoughts are equally chaotic. It has been one heck of a week to say the least; a rollercoaster ride of emotions and events.

To begin with, I have been applying for jobs that I consider to be the “next level” in my professional career. These jobs are entry level and pay decently compared to an internship. And without going into too much detail, there were two jobs I applied for in which I focused a lot of my spare time and attention on. They were both in the realm of management, which I specialize in, and paid well enough to where I knew that if I got either of the jobs I wouldn’t have to worry about finding rent or upcoming student loans. Well after weeks of applying, waiting, interviewing, waiting, second round interviewing, and waiting, I found out this week that even though I was a “top candidate” in both of these potential jobs, I was not the one that either of them were choosing to hire. In both cases they went with someone who had “more experience.” Additionally, in both of these two jobs, the people I interviewed with made it a point to tell me that my application was really good, and that I should be proud of the work I did, and that if they could have they would have hired me.

Now, I am not writing this to rant and complain, I am writing merely to express how depressing it is to get so close to the next level only to fall short. I was so close to winning the race on both occasions only to fall short and come in second… and the worst part of all this was that I received both of these rejections this past week, within 72 hours of each other. Simply put: rejection is hard. And after having worked for weeks on these application processes only to come up short has left me drained, low on self-morale, and increasingly worried about the prospect of paying rent, bills, and student loans, which start in a month...

Everyone who worked on Secret Identity by Chris Weikel 
One of the highlights of my week, however, was working on the Lark’s major event known as Playwrights Week. I had the honor of stage managing two amazing play readings by up-and-coming playwrights. The first was Secret Identity by Chris Weikel and the second was Denny and Lila by August Schulenburg  I worked on both of these amazing plays and made some awesome friends in the process. Secret Identity was a play I really connected with because it was about a young awkward, comic book obsessed, teen who was trying to find out who he was all while being bullied and tormented, AND wrestling with his sexual identity. I didn’t have that last problem in highschool, but I had all the others, and so I really identified with this play as did the rest of the cast which consisted of 9 males and 1 female. It was awesome. Rehearsals were mostly discovery, fun, bonding, and lots of laughter which resulted in a memorable first play reading stage management experience for me.

Between stage managing these two play readings and going over to Jersey City to stage manage Regrets Only (the other show I am currently working on), my week was very full, and after receiving two job rejections I thought things couldn’t get any worse. Then New York had to go and prove me wrong. I am going to keep this next part brief because I don’t want to devote to much time or thought to complaining about the MTA, but for some reason, in their infinite wisdom, the Metropolitan Transit Authority decided that this weekend, the final weekend of the UN summit I might add, they were going to close all trains going in and out of queens. But no, they weren’t going to tell anyone about it, or even tell the individual stations about it. So what one station thought they knew, the next one knew something different and the end result was that there was ONE train servicing all of Queens. One lonely train! For literally a million people! And believe me when I say it was PACKED. Sardines would have felt claustrophobic in these mobile tin cans. Ugh, ok, rant over. End result of this all? I was late to Saturday rehearsal in Jersey City. Thankfully I left early enough to where it wasn’t a huge deal, but it was one of the most frustrating days I have experienced here.

So here I am, entering my third month of living in New York. I have one amazing internship, one stage management job, and random odd photography jobs. In one month, unless I can get them deferred, student loan repayment begins. And while we are being honest? It’s not looking good. I need to find a dependable source of income or else everything is going to come crashing down and I will have to join the armed service or something... So that’s where I stand. Looks like Mr. Luck is getting the best of me. Until next time.

"No matter how small I am--no matter how hopeless everything seems--I mustn't give up! My size doesn't matter! Even my life doesn't matter! No one can win--every battle, but--no man should fall-- without a struggle!" -Peter Parker

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