Working It Out

One of my coworkers realized that yesterday would be our last day working together (as I took today off, and she's out Thursday and Friday). When I came back to my desk after a break, there was a bouquet on my chair with a card. In the card, she referred to me as "Sunshine" (my nickname around the office), wished me luck, and told me that she'd miss me. When I went to thank her, she told me not to hug her or she'd cry. I saw the tears in her eyes and I knew she that she meant it.

I've been close with several of my coworkers, but not as much with her. We have a friendly, joking relationship. I've never been around her outside of the workday. I was astonished to learn that the comments I've gotten from her like "I'll miss you", "don't go", and "I'm happy for you" were genuine. They're the same things I've heard from everyone, but they just seemed like the sorts of generic comments that you're expected to throw out when someone's leaving.

She said she knows I'm going to be famous one day (she said she can picture me on Grey's Anatomy), even though she's only seen me act once. She said she would like to be my agent, manager, and publicist. She told me how happy she is for me that I'm getting out of my day job and pursuing my dream. She said she was proud of me, and hopes that I won't forget her when I make it big. She also said that she doesn't think the office will be the same without me there to liven things up.

I got a little teary-eyed along with her.

I also came close to getting emotional when saying goodbye to my favorite cashier on the café floor. She watched me type at lunch during NaNoWriMo, and we often discuss the Oldies songs playing on the speakers. She's one of a handful of people in the world who I have allowed to refer to me as "Ange" (Note: some Angela's spell this "Ang", but then it looks like it rhymes with tang. In reality, it sounds more like the ending of "orange"... but it doesn't actually rhyme, as nothing rhymes with orange). She bought me my lunch as a going-away present and told me how much she's going to miss seeing me. It wasn't much, but it meant a lot to me.

It's incredible to see how much you affect other people's lives without realizing it.

I wasn't upset at missing the party today. It occurred to me that it doesn't matter. I don't need a party. The people who want to wish me well will find their own ways to do it.

I've refrained from discussing my work place on this blog for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which is trying to retain my relative anonymity; I don't want my place of work to know I blog, and I don't want blog stalkers to surprise me at work. But I suppose that both are less of a worry now that I only have a couple of days left.

I work in a massive skyscraper that's located in the middle of downtown Chicago (I work about a block away from the famed Magnificent Mile). I'm on the 12th floor, and I have my own window. Observe my view:


When I started my job, I loved it. It's strange to think back to that. Operations within my department have changed a bit since I first started, which has something to do with my disillusionment. But mostly I think the change was in me. It took me some time to understand that I don't want to settle for an office job. I need to work in theatre. When I first got there, I was happy just to have a steady paycheck. I now know that I need more than that. I've taken the corporate road, and I found myself at a dead end. I'm ready to begin the long, lonely hitchhike of the starving artist. It won't be easy, but I think I'll be happier in the long run.

It actually turned out to be a bit of providence that I had taken today off of work, as I woke up completely sick. Yes, I'm sick again, thanks to the worst immune system on the planet (have I mentioned that I've gotten the chicken pox TWICE?). It was a blessing not to have to force myself to go to work. Of course, it meant I was unable to do all the things I'd intended to do today... But I did sort out the health insurance issues I was having with my university. And I did three loads of laundry (although I still have about four left to do... mostly bedding, towels, and winter clothes). So that's something.

Here's hoping that my final days of work go smoothly.


May you know how appreciated you are.

~A~


P.S. Thank you to Rachel, Nico, and Rachel for nominating me for Featured Blogger on 20 Something Bloggers! Today was the first time I've ever been nominated, and I was grinning from ear-to-ear as a result. It seriously is an honor just to be nominated!

Backhanded Goodbyes

If I had any mixed feelings about leaving, they're gone now.

I gave my notice at Tony n' Tina's Wedding last week. I knew that this would condemn me to Black Staff for the rest of my days (despite claims from some in the cast that "don't worry, they'll let you go up [as Sister Terry] before you leave"... Oh, please. Why would they bother putting in the time to finish training me now?).

What I didn't anticipate was being punished in another way: not being put on the schedule.

I've worked every single performance for the last two months (I've been in the show for three). I've worked hard. I've been completely exhausted as a result. And I expected that to continue.

Imagine my surprise when, out of four shows this week, I was only scheduled to be in one of them.

And on top of that, the director made it painfully obvious that he was going to great lengths to avoid putting me on Black Staff. Like on two nights, scheduling only one Black Staff to do it single-handedly (which is damn well near impossible). Or bumping the current Tina down to Black Staff and calling in an old Tina to take her place. He even scheduled someone for one performance who had already gotten approved to take the night off. THAT'S how far he went to not put me on.

I was upset. Understandably, I think.

This show is about to be short-staffed for a month, due to four of us leaving on the 9th. Shouldn't they use me while they've got me? But no, the director has decided to punish me for leaving. It just seems like an immature decision to me.

You know, as much as it sucks that I've been stuck in Black Staff for three months (which, if you recall, is like being on stage crew -- or being a waiter, but for way less money -- and having to be in character on top of that), I like it. Yes, I wish I were a character. Of course I do. But I've made the most out of Black Staff. I give my all every single night. I've created complex, interesting, energetic characters. I'm great at getting the audience involved (even the people who came into the show with the idea that they were going to hate it).

I love performing. I love being part of a show again. And I won't be able to do it again for a long time (in my grad school program, you're not on stage for your first year).

Additionally, the cast of TnT has become my friend group. We go out to the bar every show night. We have a lot of fun, both during the performances and after them. And not being in the show means missing out on that.

Things ended up working out alright. Someone called in sick on Wednesday, so they called me in. Someone needed off on Friday, so they called me in. And there's too big of a house for one Black Staff to handle tonight, so they've called me in. My one-show week has turned into a four-show-week. And while most people in this show would love to have some time off, I'm thrilled to be working.

And to make things more interesting for myself, I created yet another Black Staff character last night. Her name is Farina. She flirts with every male in the room (young or old, cast or audience). She thinks getting married in your twenties is a bad idea, because you should play the field while you've got time.

It's always fun to create a new character, but I'll probably stick to Hot Cocoa and Carmella for the rest of my shows, as I love them both and probably won't have many more opportunities to play either of them. I've been told by the ASM to expect to only be on the schedule one time next week, and one time the week after (although if I'm lucky, I might be able to squeeze in a couple more shows the same way I did this week)

On top of dealing with this at my night job, there are problems with my other job. My day job. My "real" job.

I had some vacation days left that I wanted to use before leaving. My last day there is going to be next Friday (August 1st). So I took a half day yesterday, I'm taking a half day on Thursday, and I decided to take Wednesday off. A good way to sort of break up my last week, I thought.

Two of my coworkers have birthdays this week (one on Sunday, one on Monday). One of my other coworkers found out last week that she got a job in a different department, and her last day will be the week after mine. And another coworker is approaching his 5-year anniversary at the company.

So my boss had the brilliant idea to combine the two birthdays, two going-away parties, and anniversary party.

And she put it on Wednesday, July 30th.

Yeah, that's right. The day I'm going to be gone.

KNOWING FULL WELL that I was going to be gone.

They're throwing me a going-away party, and I'm not even going to be there to attend it.

And on top of that, they've asked me to donate money to help buy food for it.

I wanted to scream. I pointed out that I wasn't going to be there, and the response I got was, "Oh, that's too bad."

They probably just didn't think about it.

It reminds me of the end of last year when my whole department was taken out to lunch by our VP because we'd exceeded our goals for the year. Everything was served family style, so the people planning things ordered the food a week in advance. Before placing the order, they asked, "Hey, Angela, you're still a vegetarian, right?" I assured them that I was, and they said they'd make sure to get several things that I could eat. When we got there for the meal, I saw that they ordered two salads and about six main dishes. One of the salads had anchovies, the other had bacon. And they only ordered ONE meatless dish (fettucine alfredo), which other people polished off before the bowl made it down to me. Then they said, "Well, that's why we ordered two things with chicken and one with fish. We figured you could eat those." (Apparently, none of them knows the definition of the word "vegetarian"?) They ended up ordering another bowl of fettucine so that I could eat SOMETHING.

That sucked. But this whole party-for-me-without-me thing? Infinitely worse.

As one of my coworkers pointed out, "when you have a going-away party for someone who is there, you're saying 'we're going to miss you.' When the person isn't there, you're saying, 'hooray, she's leaving!' "

I've been working there for a year and a half, and I have been a DAMN fine employee (okay, not so much lately... but last year my performance review was outstanding and said I "often exceeded expectations", which is high praise in my department). And now I'm leaving. I'm not just going to another floor, like the other girl who's leaving. I'm moving out of the state. To a state that's very far away. And these people that I've seen five days a week for the last year and a half? I might never see them again. And they're throwing my goodbye party when I WON'T BE THERE.

Maybe I'm overreacting, but I cried. A lot.

But, you know what? It's my party, and I'll cry if I want to.

There's more to this story... Like how my boss BEGGED me to ask for Friday off from TnT so that the department could go out for drinks on my last day, and then (after I had asked for it off, something that probably hurt me in TnT) decided that we shouldn't go because three people in the department were going to be out that day. Or how my boss TOLD ME that we would have a party on my last day, and then changed her mind. Or how, when I took Wednesday off, my boss said, "Oh, but then you'll miss the double-birthday-party," and then she went on to combine it with my going-away party after that conversation... There are several more things that I'm bitter about, but you get the idea.

And yes, I COULD switch my day off and just reschedule the things I planned to do that day. But now it's a matter of principle. Why should I rearrange my plans to go to a party that clearly no one cares if I attend?

I'm upset. I'm frustrated. And I want out.

I have worked SO HARD at BOTH of my jobs, and NEITHER appreciates me. Instead, they wave goodbye to me with the backs of their hands.

I'm ready to leave now.


May others appreciate the work that you do.

~A~


P.S. I have been told three times in the last week that I remind people of Marisa Tomei circa "My Cousin Vinnie" when I play Hot Cocoa in TnT.

Catch-Up Time

1. Frankie Avalon is an adorable man. He wears tall shoes (heels, occasionally), but he's still around my height (I'm just under 5'6"). He's always smiling, and a great performer. And I love his song "Why".

2. It's been a long time since I've been as exhausted as I was last weekend. 5 shows in 4 days = rough (especially when you're not used to it... and you have a day job).

3. Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog rocks my socks. Neil Patrick Harris is delectable. ("The world is a mess and I just... need to rule it.") I think the writing was best in Act I, and the music was best in Act II. I didn't like Act III at first (unsatisfying ending much?), but I'm growing into it. Highly recommend. It cost me $4 on iTunes, and was well worth it for 42 minutes of quality entertainment.

4. Lady MacBook is back, and working just fine. The original estimate was 5-7 days, but they called me in 3 to say she was done! Of course, I couldn't pick her up until day 4 and have barely had a chance to use her since. But I'm so very, very happy to have her back.

5. Work today made me feel absolutely horrible. I would vent about it, but I think it's probably wisest to NOT talk about work whatnot on the internet. It doesn't matter, anyway. I'm leaving a week from Friday.

6. I turned in my notice at TnT. I was one of four people to do it on the same day. No one batted an eyelash. Three more weekends of being Black Staff, and then I'm out.

7. Went to the eye doctor today for the first time in 2 years. Apparently, I suddenly have astigmatism (the doctor seemed surprised that I didn't have it before, because I now am at "four clicks". No idea what that means.) But I think maybe he was wrong, because I feel super weird in these contacts. Having trouble focusing... Feels like I'm wearing someone else's glasses. But anyway. Ordered new glasses (wish I could've kept the old ones, but they said they were too old and putting lens in would probably break them) and prescription sunglasses (which I've never had before). Very exciting.


I'd write more, but I'm exhausted.


Much love and many blessings!

~A~

Technological Separation Anxiety

I would like to tell you about a friend of mine...

My lovely, wonderful, darling computer, Lady MacBook.

She got her name because of my love of Shakespeare (I pronounce Lady MacBook with the same stress in which one would say "Lady Macbeth").

We first met on October 2nd, 2006 (yes, I remember the date... shut up). She was so shiny, so empty, so vivacious.

Small and white. Clean and bright. Just like edelweiss. And yes, she did look happy to meet me.

And now? Well, now I'm completely dependent upon her. I don't think we've been separated for even a day since we've been together. It's definitely the most reliable relationship I have in my life. Lady MacBook is, in many ways, my best friend.

I have a different relationship with my computer than most people do, if only because I use her so much more. I haven't had a television in nearly a year. Lady MacBook has been my television. Thanks to her, I watched the entire first four seasons of Lost in a matter of weeks on abc.com (free, streaming, and in HD). I watched all of Arrested Development on DVDs. I got Netflix, which helped me get through my seasonal depression.

She's my source of music as well. I often play my iTunes loudly as I dance around, swearing that I'm about to start cleaning my apartment. I belt out showtunes and pray that my neighbors don't call the cops. Thanks to her handy video camera, I've even made music videos for people on facebook.

And she knows my face well. Not just from videos, but from the pictures that I'm constantly taking of myself (don't act like you hadn't noticed).

I started blogging last September, and she's been here for me through all of that. She's been here through my obsessions with various social networking sites, even as they fade from memory (StumbleUpon? Cre8Buzz?).

And perhaps the period of time that I grew most attached to her was November, when I decided to do NaNoWriMo (and, simultaneously, NaBloPoMo). Yes, I decided to write a novel in 30 days (or at least the first 50,000 words of one). I brought Lady M everywhere. She came to work with me every day. We went on dates to various coffee shops in the city. I discovered that I could type rather well while my face was buried in a pillow. And she stuck by me, auto-saving regularly. She watched me punch in 56,021 words in 30 days.

I'm still not done with that novel, but I wouldn't have made it as far as I have if it weren't for her constant support.

But now she's ill, and I have to take her to the doctor for a check-up.

And by ill, I mean she needs a new logic board. And by doctor, I mean the Genius Bar at the Apple Store. And by check-up, I mean they want to keep her for five days.

I don't know what I'm going to do. She's my baby! She's my primary source of entertainment and communication! Heck, she's practically an appendage!

Can I survive without my laptop for five whole days? I'm seriously not sure anymore.

*sigh* I'm going to try to drop her off in the morning, but I'm not even sure that I can do it. I don't know if I'll be strong enough.

I decided that this was the best time to do it. I'll be so busy with my family in town and Frankie week rehearsals and performances that I won't even notice that she's gone. Right?

Seriously, my hands are about to start shaking, and she's not even gone yet. She's my heroin (and also the heroine of this story, I suppose). I'm a junkie.

And I can't just watch tv. I can't play video games. I can't watch a video. I can't go online from a BlackBerry or an iPhone. She's all I have. *sniff*

So forgive my upcoming online absence... Trust me, it's going to hurt me a lot more than it's going to hurt you.

I guess now's a good time to catch up on my reading...


May you find ways to pass the time.

~A~


ETA: P.S. Lady M is no longer "clean and bright". She looks... well, let's just say "well-loved."

High School & Drama

I have so many things that I want to talk about, and it is a completely daunting task. Especially since I only have about 40 minutes to do it.

Last week, I got the chance to hang out with a bajillion people that I went to high school with.

First, my friend Kate was in town, so a bunch of people met up at a bar to see her. Amanda, Sean, Tracy, Sharriese, and I played darts and caught up on each other's gossip (like how Amanda is now in a beach bocce ball league, and how Sean appeared on My Life on the D-List). It was a great time.

Then I went to Michigan for four days. I'm originally from there, but my parents moved to Connecticut, so I rarely visit. I stayed with my friend Ian, and got to see a ton of my friends (for my O-town buddies, it was: Megan, Zel, Erin, Natasha, Taylor, Phil, Ann, Maddie, Nyal, and Mary). For the first time in my life, I actually became intoxicated in Michigan. Megan and I spent a couple of hours in Target, and a couple in Meijer (our traditions). I got to go back to the mall where I used to work (at the Customer Service desk, and also at a long-since-closed boutique run by crazy Asian people -- The Crazians, as I like to call them).

I also got to go see my old house (my parents haven't been able to sell it yet) for the first time in a year. It's mostly empty, and very strange. I feel as if a slice of my past has just died off. I cried when I went into my old bedroom. The design I painted on my wall had been covered by white. My carpet had been changed, to remove the nail-polish spill from when I was six. And it looked just like a room. Any room at all. No one would ever know I'd been there.

I learned something about myself while I was there: sometimes Drunk-Angela HATES other drunk people. Normally, I'm a silly person. I will sing or dance in public without provocation. I slip in and out of accents. I'm a total goofball. But when I drink, I get more serious. And drunk people who are acting in the way I do sober (although they do it in a more outlandish and moronic version)? I become convinced that they're putting on an act. They're "playing" drunk, the way they think they should. They're using the alcohol as an excuse to be jerks (in their case, it was really more jerks than goofballs... erratically spilling coffee on each other, throwing things, attacking the dog). I wanted to punch them all.

Anyway. Aside from that, it was a great trip. I'm glad I got to go home one last time. I know that no matter where else I go in life, that town will always be my real home.

When I got back to Chicago, I found out that I was not playing Sister Terry this weekend, even though I'm fully trained. And I was pretty heartbroken. There's no way I'm going to get to play her now. This coming weekend is Frankie Avalon weekend, which means that everything becomes insane and hectic so that Frankie Avalon can play Tina's godfather (not normally in the script) for a sold-out weekend of shows. They will NOT put me up next week (even if the normal Sister Terry is sick... they'd just call someone who had done it before). And the last day of Frankie week is the day that I have to give my three-week notice. I'm quite sure the director won't put me up once he knows I'm leaving.

It's so sad. And very frustrating.

And the whole show is so stressful right now. Everyone is going completely nuts in preparation for Frankie week. I got yelled at about five times yesterday for things I've never been yelled at for in the past. At one point while scolding me, one person actually took a step back and said, "I'm sorry. I'm not mad at you. But I'm stressed, and Black Staff are the easiest people for me to take it out on." The joys of being at the bottom of the totem pole.

They're making us take a "Frankie test" to make sure that we know the man's entire life story before he shows up. They told us we had to get 100%, but that we'd get a few chances to take it. Yesterday night was our first chance. Only 4 people got 100% on their Frankie tests on the first try.

The director (he only shows up on Fridays) started going off on how clearly, we weren't that dedicated to the show, even though some people only missed 1 or 2 questions (although a few others missed more than 20 out of 25... for the record, I missed 6, and I thought that was pretty damn good for someone who hasn't done Frankie week in the past). He read off the whole list of people who failed aloud (even though it had already been read by both Lauren and Matt), and started playing individual guilt trips (especially on the girl who normally plays Tina, even though she only missed 2 questions). He then said that some of the people whose names he had just called were already "on thin ice", and that after Frankie week, he's going to be firing people.

He said that we are ALL replaceable, and that he is more than willing to call old cast members to play all of our roles (including Black Staff). He said that whoever fails the test today will be replaced. He then told the Stage Manager to make a BRAND NEW TEST for today (something that he says he hasn't done in 10 years).

I'm freaking out. My family is coming this week, and if I'm not even on Black Staff, I know they're going to be upset. I'm going to a study group at Starbucks at 4:30 with a bunch of the girls (our test is at 5:30). Hopefully, we'll study the right things. The Stage Manager promised she was going to make it as easy as possible to help us all pass.

My family, by the way, bought their tickets the first week that I was in the show (the first week of May). They didn't do it because it's Frankie week, but because my parents were going to be in town anyway (my dad has a conference here). Originally, I had been told that I'd be a character after about 4 weeks. How many weeks is this now? 10? 11? I lost count. But I'm sure as hell not a character. Anyway. My parents figured it would be the perfect time to get the whole family to come. So some aunts, uncles, a brother, a cousin, and my grandma all got tickets to come as well. Once they found out I wouldn't be a character, a couple of them canceled. And the rest... well, I think they'll be disappointed. Black Staff doesn't get to do nearly as much fun stuff during Frankie week. All eyes have to be on Frankie, so the rest of us don't really matter.

I'm supposed to get my hair dyed one color in a couple of hours. Sister Terry would only have one color of hair, and I currently have two. My black-red-purple has faded into a brown-with-highlights. I actually think it looks pretty sweet, but when they asked me to dye my hair, I made the appointment. I was just excited that I might get a chance. Last night I went out dancing/drinking with a bunch of the girls (someone's birthday is this week), and they were telling me not to do it. I'm debating this act of rebellion.

I just don't want to do anything wrong, you know? Because if I don't go up before I leave, I'm always going to wonder... "Is it because I didn't dye my hair?" "Is it because I missed a question on my second Frankie test?" "Is it because I didn't answer all those questions they gave me?"

Yes, I know that's ridiculous. Yes, I know that if I don't go up, it's going to be because of bad timing and not anything I did wrong. Logically, I know that. But I over-think everything. It's just what I do.

More people have started discussing when they're leaving. At least two other people are giving their notices the same day that I am, and apparently several more are considering it. Which is kind of too bad for me. If they had quit a month ago, I could've been a character by now. But they all wanted to stay long enough to do Frankie week.


May you never suffer from a lack of character.

~A~

You're All Invited!

As most of you know, I am heading down to Florida to get my MFA in Acting. I will be moving sometime between August 11-15 (not 100% certain yet). My last day at my day job will be August 1, and my last night of Tony n' Tina's Wedding will most likely be August 9 (so if you want to see me in that, you'd better hurry up and go!).

So, I'm throwing myself a going-away party, and I wanted to invite all my readers, lurkers, dot-comrades, and bloggy buddies!

Want to meet me before I leave?
Want to see me one last time?
Want an excuse to hit a bar?

If you answered yes to any of the above, HERE IS YOUR CHANCE!!!

So here is the party information:

Wednesday, August 6th
9:00pm - 1:00am (or something like that)

THE SPOT
4437 N Broadway
Chicago, IL


So here's the deal... The party is at a bar called The Spot. There will be karaoke on two floors (but don't worry, I won't make you participate if you don't want to... but I sure will!). Everyone that comes in and mentions they are here to celebrate my going-away party drinks $3 beers, $4 cocktails and $5 specialty drinks ALL NIGHT LONG, so that's a nice bonus. There is also apparently a patio, so you can drink outside if you want to get away from the karaoke.

The bar tells me that there is valet for $10, and they validate if you stay out past 1:00am (but it's on a Wednesday, so I don't expect any of you to stay out that late... But if you want to, I will. After all, I won't have work in the morning).

Also note: I will be drinking. This is a rare event, so if you'd like to see an intoxi-tipsy version of me, that's just an added incentive.

To RSVP: Please email angelaboration@gmail.com

May you be in Chicago and free on August 6th!

~A~


Note: The above picture is me, sober. Just imagine how awesome I am after a couple of drinks!

The Model on the Train

I got to work and felt an overwhelming desire to blog this, as it just happened.

I was out at a bar with friends last night (more on that later), and left a bit early because I felt both ill and exhausted. I slept in later than usual today. I did not take a shower. I did not eat breakfast. I did not put in my contacts. I did not put on any makeup (although I never took off the makeup I had on yesterday, so I'm sure there's some residual mascara still in place). And I did not put on clothing that matched (I am wearing a dark maroon button up shirt over a black tank top, a khaki-colored linen skirt, and mint Keds with white laces. I'm sure it doesn't sound horrible, but I assure you that it looks rather awkward. I'll see if I can find my camera before the day is through... And I'm sure the effect is only improved by the leftover bright orange eyeshadow that I have on from last night).

I was standing on the L this morning, going through the construction and dreaded "slow zones", and I noticed a fellow sitting in front of where I stood was writing something down. I peered over his shoulder. It appeared to be a rap he was writing. I suppose it could've just been poetry, but he was dressed like the sort of person who would compose raps on the L. He had crossed several words out, replacing them with better options. I tried to get a sense of what he had written, but I couldn't read his writing well from my angle. And at least one of the words I could make out was misspelled beyond recognition.

At one point, the train was stopped, so I leaned down to my purse, grabbed my red lip gloss, and began to apply it by looking at the window into my reflection, which was made more visible by the darkness of the tunnel. As I put the lip gloss back in my bag, the rapper tapped me on the shoulder. He then held up a piece of paper for me to look at. It wasn't the one he had been scrawling on previously, but rather a folded piece with only one sentence on it.

Are you a model?

"No," I replied with a smile.

He took his pen to the paper quickly and wrote, then held it to me again.

Aw

"Thank you, though."

YW

He went back to his writing, and I went back to staring at my reflection in the glass. I tried to see whatever it was that he saw. Tried to look at that girl in the glasses with the messy hair and the awkward pose, holding two giant bags packed to the brim with whatnot, and see a model. I couldn't see one. All I could see was me.

After another stop, he tapped me again, and once more held up the paper.

Why aren't you a model?

I said the first thing that came into my head.

"I'm too short," I said, my mind wandering to my mother's modeling days. I've seen pictures of her that were in magazines when she was a teen. She did runway modeling up through my childhood. She still sporadically does runway work, but usually just for charity events now. My tall, beautiful mother. 5'9" -- perfect for the runway.

Everyone says I look just like her. But I'm not quite 5'6", and you have to be 5'7" to do runway.

He showed me the paper again.

Not runway. Print work.

"I don't know. I guess I just never got into it," I stared thoughtfully at my minty shoes for a moment. "I am an actor, though."

He smiled at me. He started to write again as the train came to a halt.

"This is my stop."

He tried to write faster, but the person next to him was getting out. He stood to let the man out, and dropped his notebook in the process. I stooped to retrieve it. "Nice to meet you," I said, handing it back to him. He just nodded and smiled as I wove through the aisle toward the door and onto the platform.

I wish I knew what he was writing when the train stopped.

The weirdest part of this: I can't figure out why he was writing everything and not speaking it. If he's a rapper, he's not mute. Maybe he thought it was too loud. Maybe he was trying to be mysterious. Or maybe he just didn't want to be "that creepy guy trying to talk to a girl on the L". Rather curious, in any case.

I suppose it doesn't matter. It was a nice way to start the day.


May you find joy from unexpected sources.

~A~


P.S. As I was typing this, I told the story to two of my coworkers, who promptly pronounced that the guy was a "douche bag", and that he probably uses that line all the time. Oh well. Still made me feel good.

P.P.S. I nearly titled this "Model Train", but decided that would be misleading, as it's not actually about model trains. But know that I considered it. :)