Talking About Thinking About Doing Stuff

I am currently sitting here, stretching, watching the Olympics, and actively avoiding doing several somethings I should have done a week ago. I don’t know what triggers it or why I get this way, but it’s like I suddenly become allergic to whatever task I need to do, especially if it’s tardy. I can’t look at it, I can’t think about it, I certainly can’t just sit down and do it.

Ok actually I know exactly what triggers it. Whenever something is late, my brain HATES it. It’s a shameguiltspiral that I just don’t want to deal with. Which is weird because I mean, I’m late A LOT. This lateness is usually reserved for my personal life (late 90% of the time, every time) but every once and again I wait too long on a project or a promise and the due date I’ve set for myself comes and goes, and suddenly that task, no matter how small, is simply untouchable.

This is pretty much exactly what happened last week. After my eight months of insanity, I was just. So. Tired. I deserved a break! Just a couple days where I could come home after work and NOT USE MY BRAIN. Oh and how lovely that was. But then a couple days turned into two weeks and suddenly I hadn’t finished all the stuff I was supposed to two weeks ago and it was JUST TOO LATE.

I don’t know. I always get to the point where I realize I’m being ridiculous and I just sit down and do the damn 5-10 minute task, but tonight is just not that night. Maybe tomorrow morning.

Yeah, tomorrow morning sounds good. I’ll probably be a much more motivated, accomplished professional by then.

When It Rains It Pours

So remember that time when I had no job, no prospects, and no money?  Well that’s old news. Now I have way too many jobs, some prospects, and, well, okay so that last part is the same.  I knew applying to twelve jobs in one day, and then five more jobs over the course of the rest of the week may result in an eventual avalanche of part time, but I needed the monies, and I needed them ASAP.  So then I secured a part time job, and then I secured another, and then another started paying me so I was motivated to work for them more often, and so on and so forth until today. Today I got a call from a temp agency that I forgot I had applied to, asking me if I could meet in an hour to go over the specs of a potential job. I could, so I went, and from there I went straight to the potential office for an interview. I got it, and now we’re debating $$ and days.  It’s only a four week gig, but it’s a really well-paying gig that I am exactly qualified for, so I don’t want to lose any other source of income, but this is something I would very much like to be a part of.  Cue balancing act.

To illustrate the wall of ish that I am suddenly facing, let me break down my current freelance career for the month of February.  I am presently working:

*As a house manager at a local theater (Friday nights and Sunday all day, if there is a show going on. Which there will be at the end of this month)

*As an assistant, stitcher, and social media manager for the design studio I very well may one day run (10-4 or 5, once or twice a week)

*As a business and proposal assistant at a healthcare IT company (9-5, twice a week)

*As the main reservation line for a B&B in Harpers Ferry, WV (paid per booking, so technically on call all the time)

*As the social media manager for the same B&B (paid hourly, I make my own hours)

*Soon-to-be a web designer for a family friend (I’ll make my own hours)

*As a merchandiser for the company my mom works for, that I have also worked for on and off since I was a teenager (once a week, for about an hour)

So yeah I mean, it’s a lot. But I haven’t quite figured out the balance of the feast or famine lifestyle of the freelancer, so when work comes, I takes it. At the moment, very few of my jobs are art-related, but that’s because school is such a game changer. If I know I’ll be doing art 24-7 by the end of the year, I’m more comfortable taking non-art jobs. Also, I need the cash, y’all. What with possible moving to new cities and weddings and whatnot.

😀 weddings. Squee, etc.

Conflict of Interests

I’m not generally the kind of person who regrets.

This is not to say I don’t do and say regrettable things, but as a general rule my regrets tend to do with people I have interacted with, rather than life decisions I have made for myself. When it comes to my personal road more-or-less traveled, I always seem to find just as many irreplaceable experiences, lessons, and relationships that occurred because of what I chose as what I might have chosen. That said, I seem to have drawn myself to a fork in the ole life-road. I mentioned that I’ve been accepted at my dream-with-an-asterisk-cause-y’all-know-how-I-roll school, which also happens to reside across the country and be SUPER expensive. I’ve mentioned that I’m perpetually broke no matter what, and that I hate it. I may not have mentioned but you can probably surmise that I still kind of want to keep my education options open, because as much as I love Southern California and salivate at the idea of being back in a classroom, 12-23 months is a long time to leave my life, career, and loved ones.

The hardest part about this decision is, oddly, that I am confident that I will be happy no matter what. Like I said, I don’t generally spend a lot of time regretting*. If I go to L.A., I’ll be warm year-round, get to hang out with my brother and friends from middle school, meet awesome new people, and learn amazing things about my craft from a school that makes a habit of throwing you directly into the business. If I go to New York, I’ll be able to cross “lived in New York” off my life list, get to hang out with friends from high school, college, and the film I just finished, be only a 4 hour bus ride from Mr. B, make awesome new friends, and learn amazing things about my craft**. If I stay in DC, I’ll get to continue to live with Mr. B, hang out with my best friends in the world so who needs new friends, be close to my parents, and establish myself as a designer and a business. Not to mention the fact that DC is the only place of the three that has an actual owner of a design company who wants to hand her business over to me. The question there is whether going to school will help or hurt this endeavor.

So yeah there’s that. And so I’ve decided, in true B style, that I’m just going to work my ass off and let the cards fall where they may. I have landed three weekly part time jobs since I started this blog post over a week ago***, and I’m doing pretty well (IF-I-do-say-so-myself) at scheduling them properly so I don’t get all crazy and lose track of everything and never get anything actually done like last time (and this time, as long as we’re being honest here.) Doing this film, blowing all my money in California****, and getting into school really changed my perspective. I’m ready to move to the next step, and no matter what that step is, the first step is getting my finances in order.

I’m tired of being broke, y’all. RENT is a lie… you can’t be an awesome artist with no money (and imagine the medication bills!). That’s what I’ve learned in the three years of recession since graduating. You can’t be an awesome artist with no money… but you also can’t be an awesome artist with no time. I have no regrets about quitting my terrible tech writing job, because I never would have gotten the film, and I never would have pursued school so doggedly, and I never would have had the awesome revelation I’m laying out to you now.

I need money, and I want to go to school, so at this moment in time I’m putting my head down and slamming through this business we call freelancing. I officially have an unofficial financial advisor, who, as a freelancer herself and also one of my best friends, I find exactly qualified to explain to my poor little artist brain what a CD is and why I should have one. (Also, what savings are, because let’s get something straight right now. I am awesome in many ways, but I do not do math, and I do not deal well with money.) I have exactly the right amount of regular freelancing work, and good amount of promise for sporatic-but-well-paying work, to really think I can do this without 1) running myself into the ground or 2) killing Mr. B’s soul.

I’ll actually stick to my 2011 statement of not taking work that can’t pay for itself (ie. no $200 paychecks for two months’ worth of work… if you don’t work in theater, I’m sorry to shock you. If you do work in theater, represent! We deserve to be paid what we’re worth*****.) No big vacations until after everything is all said and done and I know what will be happening this fall, and exponentially fewer slips of the cash here and there for dinner, drinks, and the like. You know, all the really clear, obvious stuff that you probably already knew and maybe even told me about but I just figured out.

Most important though, I need to figure out how to do symbols other than asterisks, because five in a row-plus-sneaking-some-parenthetical-statements-in is just too many.

*Unless you count being embarrassed that I said or did something ridiculous or uncalled for in front of other humans. In that case I spend a lot of time regretting.
**Also, fabric stores out the hoo-ha!
***I know, I know, and I’m sorry. But it’s just something that is going to happen a lot.
****Did I tell you that’s where I went? I went to California immediately after Christmas, which was immediately after the film wrapped, to be the MOH in a wedding, hang out with some awesome old friends, and then hang out with my awesome brother and interview at The School In Question before coming back broke, jobless, and without a plan.
*****I know most companies have to sacrifice and scrape by in the beginning, but I just can’t afford to spend money to work anymore. Also I have yet to ever be rehired by the same company for more money; all my best paying jobs have been my best paying jobs from the start, so now try to tell my I just have to pay my dues.

Well Hello, Story of My Life

My b, y’all.

New Year New B. Or, Old B New Promises.

Well hello! Fancy meeting you here! I missed you; did you miss me?

The show is wrapped and I’m back from a whirlwind vacation on the west coast in which I got to visit old friends in my old town, participate in a wedding, hang out with my brother, and interview/get accepted to my dream* school. Since the insanity started before Halloween I don’t properly remember how my regular life went.

This amnesia is probably for the best though, because looking at my bank account I think I’ve probably been doing something wrong. I’m so over being broke, y’all. The school thing has really been an eye opener because if I don’t get scholarships I won’t be going, which wouldn’t be the end of the world but it wouldn’t be my favorite either.

So looking forward, I want to/have to get ahold of my money situation and fast. I want to/have to live healthier, which means my brain, body, soul, AND wallet need to have their act together. They need to exude calm confidence. They need to not be a hot mess. So there’s a new year’s goal if I ever saw one.

Looking backward, I want to do an overview of the year that flew by so fast I barely remember it. Take some time to actually examine my choices and see how I have arrived at the doorstep of 2012 broker, fatter, and more afraid of the future, but still somehow happier than this same time last year. So that’s something to look forward to.

Also, I officially hate blogging from my phone. This post took way too effing long because my phone thinks I wanted a period when I typed a space ALWAYS.

So here’s to a new year and learning new things: may they be only cool facts and never nuggets about technology that put hate in our hearts.

And may we blog more in the future and not peace out on our reader(s). Auld lang syne, etc.

*you must know by now that I have enough dreams and life plans to fill at least one moderately sized bathroom

Vacation!

Sooo I had eight days off and was very productive in that still-feels-like vacation-because-I’m-doing-what-I-want-to-do way, but pretty much immediately fell back into my old night creature ways.  And then we had two days back on set, and now I am enjoying the first half of our last two day weekend til we wrap. Right, also, I hung out with the crew last night and ultimately waltzed in my front door at about the time I would usually be waking up on a shoot day.

Basically, my body hates me right now but my heart is happy.

I’m making friends, which is good. Friends make me invested in a work place, so I end up wanting to do better and be well-liked for my work and my craft, which motivates me to push myself more to do well.  I’m not much of a self-motivator, but I know what it takes to get me excited about something.  If I’m happy and want to be around the people I work with, I’ll work all the time, striving to do something amazing and produce a result I’m really proud of. If I’m unhappy or overwhelmed and dislike or don’t respect the people I work with, I’m there for the paycheck and out of there three seconds after the closing bell with no intentions of putting whatever I’m doing on my resume.  In my head I know that every experience is a learning experience and a way to prove my worth and carve my place as an artist, but my heart just isn’t in it if I can’t connect with people.

I see very little point in creating art in a vacuum, and that idea spills over into my regular life.  Aaand now that I’ve written that down I’m conflicted about it.

Thanks, blog. I have to think about stuff now.

Oh Facebook, I Know It’s Not Your Fault

So here’s the thing.

I’ve been in a relationship with the most amazing man in the world (research pending) for 6+ years.  We’ve had our ups and downs but he’s the best and you don’t have to click far on Facebook to see that that is my feeling. And yet, for some reason, I seem to carry the reputation of a girl who is interested in just peacing out on her relationship to hook up with people who she is friends with on Facebook but hasn’t actually spoken to in real life since high school or early college.  I feel like it’s weird that this happens with somewhat regularity, but maybe it’s not.

The other night was an example of just such a situation.  A person, I will call him TDJ*, that Mr. B and I have known since high school, messaged me with overt intentions of and-I-use-this-term-loosely courtship. I politely declined, and he persisted. That part was not too strange, since he had tried this before through Facebook and the rumor mill (we come from a small town; people love gossip).  I felt bad for the guy for having such a bizarrely persistent crush on a girl that he didn’t even know anymore**, so I continued to try to be nice, but firm.  Then he insulted Mr. B in the most hurtful, high school way and insinuated that I am the kind of girl who would not only find insults toward my long term boyfriend a turn on, but who would also cheat on said boyfriend. I believe (some of) the exact words were “that doesnt mean anything to me that your [sic] taken..u aint married are you?”

I probably should not have gotten as riled as I did (and clearly still am) but I did, and told him on no uncertain terms that um beeteedubs it means a lot to ME that I’m taken, regardless of legal status. I even wish that I hadn’t been too flustered to say what I really thought, which was more along the lines of SCREW YOU DUDE MY LIFE IS AWESOME.  But alas,  you must know by now how words escape me in the heat of the moment.  Mr. B ultimately took over and politely*** requested that TDJ leave me alone, and while my feminist side had a (very) momentary roar at its cages, the rest of me was thrilled that he defended my honor in such a way.  Because seriously. Eff that guy.

If I dated a person like TDJ, my life would be completely different, and not in a good way.  Mr. B is smart, honest, kind, responsible, sensitive, and freaking hilarious, not to mention easy on the eyes (hey-o!)  TDJ is the kind of boy I was attracted to when I was younger: good looking but emotionally unattached and “funny” in that not funny at all but actually really mean way****.  So suffice it to say, I am so thankful that Mr. B found me before I permanently attached myself to one of them. Mr. B supports my goals and aspirations, even when they are jumbled and don’t make sense (ie. always,) and even when they don’t make rent (or birthdays…) on time.  He keeps me sane in an insane career path: he talks me down (or up) when I’m ready to fly off the handle because of something someone said, or something that happened at work, or my ever conflicted feelings about what I’m doing and where I’m going and why.

It’s been so long since I’ve been single that I can’t properly imagine the kinds of decisions I would have made given that situation, but I know for a fact that if I was still with any person I dated or was attracted to leading up to Mr. B, I would not have had the strength or support to leave my day job to pursue the arts full time, especially after crashing and burning so hard the first time.  I would not have had the financial or emotional support to continue living on my own, or doubtfully even with a roommate. The past two months have been hard but doable, often only because every night I could come home to reassurance that everything will be okay in the end.

So no, TDJ, I am not interested in your advances. I felt bad for you, and for some reason when I feel bad for a person I more readily allow them to abuse me, but now I pity you in a whole new way.  As long as you talk to girls the way you do, you will never be happy.  High school ended seven years ago and you never recovered, so, that sucks for you and all, but I just can’t be bothered with your plight. Facebook may have made it more complicated to defriend, but some bridges are worth burning.

*Token Dumb Jock. Every high school has at least one; you know yours did.
**and honestly, barely knew in high school
***j/k it wasn’t polite. It was AWESOME.
****And DUMB. Holy crap is this kid dumb.

Two Thoughts Diverged in a Wine Bottle

I should be in bed right now, but that’s how much I love you*. I just spent the loveliest weekend + two days off to attend a wedding for one of my very oldest and very dearest, and I’m hanging on to that wonderful, relaxing, full of love feeling as much as possible before I go back into the belly of the beast**.

I’ll be honest, this tv thing is hard. I didn’t expect it to be so hard. I think a lot of it is just the learning curve, and the level of embarrassment and/or shame I feel every time I don’t automatically pick up on or know something, regardless of the fact that I have zero prior film experience so why would I know certain nuggets of information pertaining only to costuming for film. And the fact that I’m spoiled and have been the boss or first hand for every project I’ve worked on since, oh, 2007, and I straight up forgot what it is like to be the least experienced, lowest rung on the totem pole. And let me tell you, it is not my favorite.

Lucky for me, everyone I work with is so incredibly nice and actively wants to help me learn the biz. In that way, it’s a great learning experience. I just really hate learning experiences. I read an article once about my people, “smart kids,” and it really rang true for me. “Smart kids” (with the quotation marks) are the kids who had no trouble in school; every class we came across was a breeze, until our late teens or early twenties when things finally started getting hard for us. Suddenly we struggled, and instead of furrowing our brows, putting our heads down, and working at the things that were hard for us like everyone else did, we quit. Because, oh yeah, being naturally ahead your whole life makes you lazy.

I’m aware of my laziness, and my inexplicable shame at not immediately knowing how to do things, so I try to work through it. But at this point I’m so used to my comfort zone, it’s hard. Which brings me to the other thought that diverged in this winey, and somewhat cheesy***, wood. Here is the most pressing thing I have learned through this experience so far: apparently, I am still so very, very, incredibly awkward with new groups of people. Apparently, I’m the type of person who stands conspicuously near a group of people, eavesdropping, laughing when they laugh, but never actually saying anything above a mutter and NEVER actually making eye contact for more than an accidental second.

I did not know this about myself. I thought I was rather gregarious and comfortable with new people. I thought I was friendly, dammit! But, apparently, the truth of the matter is, when I am thrown into a totally new situation with totally new people who know a whole hell of a lot more than I do in the most important subject of the day, I am the most awkward person who ever lived.

Since I don’t live in New York and I come from either an office or casual/non-mountainous background, I don’t know how to dress in a way that is warm, comfortable, AND fashionable. I wake up at a time that makes contacts only barely doable, and makeup impossible. Since I’m incredibly aware of the fact that I don’t actually know anyone very well because I go home every night, I am incredibly awkward to speak to. I make inside jokes with people who have no idea what I’m talking about. I blush. I get confused. I mutter. I avoid eye contact. It’s like an out of body experience. It’s not that it’s not me, because it is me… fifteen years ago. 1996 me would absolutely have all of these traits; I just thought I had gotten better at this thing, man.

It seems like people like me, though I can’t imagine why. It seems like I’m picking up things, though it doesn’t feel fast enough. I’m holding out judgement until I’ve worked for longer than three weeks, though it feels like three months. Basically, I can’t wait until I’m good at this thing.

I will like it a lot more then.

*Also how much I’m pretending I don’t have to go back to work tomorrow, plus also this cheap ass wine from the bottle is inexplicably delicious today. Please don’t be sad, the love you part is first.
**Though I’ve heard/read that it’s better this week.
***And even more hummus-y, which is a delight. Hooray for Mr. B’s taste in groceries!

A Thing That I’ve Been Thinking Today

I think it’s important to note that I am incredibly fortunate. I know I am fortunate because I am surrounded by people who love, support, and encourage me to pursue my craft with the knowledge that if I fall, one or all of those people will catch me.

I was reminded of this today, when I got a terrible surprise at the bank, in the form of 90 more dollars than I possessed having been sent to Sallie Mae without my knowledge. It’s been that kind of month for me; unexpected expenses in sets of one and two hundred dollars each, with almost no new income for the duration of the month. A forgotten parking ticket, a phone that needed replacing, paying for this semester out of pocket, and so on and so forth, so it goes.

It’s not anything sob-worthy, most of it is my fault: oversight and such. But I’m remembering the days from the first time around, when my roommate would come home from her work at a crisis center with stories of people exactly like me, in exactly the same position, but minus the loved ones willing or able to provide a safety net.

This feels a bit like one of those 99% posts, and maybe it is a little. I just feel incredibly lucky to have the friends, family, boyfriend, and employers that I have, and today especially my heart breaks for people who don’t have that, for whatever reason that they don’t, and I take no issue with giving away some of my income to provide them a semblance of the safety net that I was blessed with, but did not earn and doubtfully deserve.

In It To Win It, I Guess

My first 1st without the safety net of my other paycheck is rapidly approaching, and I am starting to freak out a little. I had to unexpectedly pay for two months’ worth of school recently, as well as regular-maintenance-but-still-gouging stuff for my car. Oh, and I selfishly decided to get my two inches of roots re-highlighted today rather than wait it out because let’s be honest, if my hair looks bad I feel ugly and fat. Yes, bad hair makes me feel fat; don’t worry about it. Also my hairdresser has a three week waiting period but she’s super cool and I desperately want her to be my friend, so, brand loyalty.

So yeah, I’m bleeding money this month, but here’s the worst part. Remember that list I made in the beginning, about all the the things I don’t want to repeat? Yeah. I’m breaking a big one. I’m currently working for free in one case, and paycheck-don’t-even-cover-gas in another.

I know, please don’t hit me.

Mr. B has made well-known his displeasure with my decision to jump with both feet into doing all* the things I swore I’d never do again for the last time this time for sure I promise. But what do you do, when you’re working with people you care deeply about who you know aren’t holding out on you, that they would give it if they had it? What do you do when you finally, finally, FINALLY read a script that moves you in ways you haven’t felt since college, but the production meetings are an hour from your house? How much does “learning” or “networking” or hell, “experiencing” and “making the art you want to” supplant income? If you have the answer, I would love to hear it.

Being deficit in money is a major issue. But being deficit in time is a slow soul-suck that I’m not ready to jump back into just yet. I’m looking at you, dear friend from my tech writing days who keeps dangling a really well paying full time tech writing job in my face. That’s not something to complain about in the current economic climate, I know. But I had a job I resented for two years, and it made me feel more spoiled and ungrateful to have one I couldn’t care less about when others who wanted it so much more didn’t have one. So I mean, no lectures please, anonymous.

My current plan of action is to actually send my overhire resume out to every costume shop I know of, and to actually get my website and Etsy shop off the ground. I say “actually” because, let’s be real for a minute, I’m generally heavy on the plan and light on the action. I shall make no other plans until those three are carried out, lest this ideas woman get carried away with herself again, as always, forever and ever, amen.

*Not all… I eat very little cous cous these days. One too many forkfuls found their way up my sinus cavity and I actually learned a lesson**.
**I know. It’s hard for me to believe, too.