Respect

Aretha knows what I'm talking about...

R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Find out what it means to me...

"Respect" is thrown around a lot. Respect your elders. Respect yourself. Everybody deserves respect. Demand respect. Okay, that's great and all, but what is respect? Well, according to dictionary.com, "respect," used as a verb, means four very different things. 1. "To hold in esteem or honor," 2. "To show regard or consideration for," 3. "To refrain from intruding upon or interfering with," and 4. "To relate or have reference to." Notice how the definitions become more and more vague? How interesting. Part of me wants to tackle the meanings behind all four of these interpretations, but instead I'm going to focus on the one that probably affects us the most: To show regard or consideration for.

All of us want to be treated well. We want to be shown consideration when we're trying to get off a crowded subway or voicing our opinion in a meeting. We want to hold some sort of value to people around us so that we're regarded with kind, or at least polite, behavior. Solidifying these desires, the media constantly bombards us with the importance of respecting ourselves and demanding others do the same. Take away the word "respect" and this means "showing regard or consideration for ourselves and demanding others do the same." All and all, this idea is not a bad thing. The danger is when expecting respect outweighs our tendency to give respect.

I'm not one of those people who thinks that this generation is composed of terrible, selfish human beings. I do think that as a whole, however, we've become less and less concerned with respecting one another. Just look at Black Friday shoppers. They literally trample people to get to a flat screen T.V.! Absolutely no consideration is given to others in a world where blinders are up and everyone is solely focused on what they want. You want a flat screen T.V.? Don't worry about the person you're stepping on. You want to text your friend? Don't worry about the teacher who stayed up all night planning a lecture. You want to be wild and single? Don't worry about the girl you said you'd call. We live in a do-what-YOU-want world. I think the concept started out as a positive idea to make the most of the one life we have to live, but has spiraled into an exaggerated, egocentric way of thinking that is accepted under the cloak of "making ourselves happy." Although personal happiness is important, we still have to remember that respecting others is just as imperative as respecting ourselves.

The moments that are hardest to give respect are the times that count the most. I recently started dating someone who seemed really great and very respectful. He gave me his jacket, texted me if he was running late, was a great listener, and walked me to the train. All of those gestures were nice, but the ending is what I'll remember. I could tell something was off the last time we got together since he referred a lot to his ex-girlfriend and seemed more distant. When we parted ways, he said "I'll give you a shout tomorrow about grabbing drinks." The next night, while I was out with friends, I texted "Is everything okay?" because I had not heard from him. And I still haven't. I have not said a word since that text, but knowing that he has no intentions of ever speaking to me again makes me feel seriously disrespected. Doing all of the simple, courteous things is admirable, but respecting someone when it's difficult is the true test of decency. As hard as it was to hear "I don't want a relationship" from past men I've casually dated, I am grateful for their honesty in a situation that I'm sure was not easy for them either. I've discovered that respect is more than "showing regard or consideration," it's showing regard or consideration when you don't feel like it.

My little tag on the end of dictionary.com's definition can be applied to many situations outside of the romantic arena. Respect isn't doing the dishes when you have the whole day off, it's doing the dishes when you don't feel like it so that your roommate is not inconvenienced. Respect isn't offering your seat when you have plenty of energy, it's offering your seat when you don't feel like it after a long day at the office. Respect isn't talking to your mother nicely, it's talking to your mother nicely when you don't feel like it because you don't like her opinion.

Respecting ourselves is crucial, but that's the easy part. Respecting others is much harder because it doesn't always benefit us. Sometimes, we have to shut out popular culture's "live only for yourself" slogans and remember that showing consideration for our fellow humans is a much greater demonstration of noble character.

I'm Grateful For...

I figured I should make a post about giving thanks, even if I'm a few days late. Better late than never.

When you have more than you deserve, it's easy to fall into the trap of never having enough. The more in life that is fantastic, the easier it is to zone in on the things that aren't so perfect. Being the minority, they stick out. I, for one, have an abnormal amount to be grateful for, so the few areas of my life that aren't ideal threaten to poison my contentment. Although I constantly remind myself of my blessings, wishful thinking still creeps in. I want the perfect job, the most convenient living arrangement, a relationship, a natural tan, and a magical gnome that cleans my room while I sleep. Who doesn't?

Thanksgiving is a wonderful reminder to every American to take a moment once a year to remember what we do have, instead of harping on what we don't...which, let's face it, fuels our culture the other 364 days of the year. My list will be undoubtedly incomplete, as I can't possibly name all of the things for which I'm grateful. Still, I want to write down a few things on paper- erm, screen- that can provide encouragement when I need a reminder of how lucky I am. I also hope that some of the things I talk about can spark within anyone reading this a memory of similar people/experiences to be grateful for in their own lives.

-My support system of family and friends
           Cliche, I know. But how could I not mention the people who love me unconditionally, cheer me on when I succeed, and hold me up when I falter? Not everyone is as close to their family as I am. Not everyone has as many loyal friends as I do. Not everyone can know they are loved no matter how much they mess up. I have done absolutely nothing to deserve the people in my life, yet somehow, I have ended up with not one, but two sets of unbelievably giving, dedicated, and upstanding parents. With an older brother who is my biggest fan and is marrying a woman who treats me like a real sister. With a little brother who loves me whole-heartedly. With a weird amount of friends that I can call at any time of day or night. With so many people to love and be loved by that I can't ever be caught up on my "phone date" list. Why have I been given so much in this department? Certainly, I can't take the credit. All I can do is be profoundly thankful for the abundance of deep and lasting relationships in my life.
Mom, Dad, Jean, Sherwin, Jim, Lindsay, Brittany, Emily, Tess, Jess, Sarah, Meg, Kaitlin, Claire B., Maggie, Claire M., Lindsey, Katie U., Stephanie, Amanda Miller, Elizabeth, Smithers, Jacob, Wes, Elle, Jen L., Krystal, Kira, Anita, Lena, Nicole, Danielle, Katie A., Renee, Natty, Christina D., Leslie, Joanna, Geraldine, Tyler, Cami, Lauren, Ashley, Amanda McLaughlin, Kristina, Laura P., Andrea, Rayna, Kelly, all of my Phi Mu sisters, Miss VA sisters, Busch Gardens friends, high school friends, friends of friends, and countless other people I can always count on.
-My education
        I graduated debt-free from a great university. Never did I question if I could get into or afford college.
-My talent
        I'm most certainly not the most talented girl in the world, but I'm so grateful that I've been given an artistic outlet through my voice that brings me so much joy to use. It's also brought me to many of my closest friends.
-My location
        I was born in the U.S. That's awesome. I live in the most inspirational city in the world. That's awesome.
-My past
        I've wrestled with my past a lot, but have come to be extremely grateful for the environment in which I grew up. Until the age of 18, I was in a very strict church with a lot of rules and restrictions, but without that, I may not have the morals and core beliefs that I do today.
-My health
        I'm physically and mentally stable, which allows me the freedom to live every day free of pain.
-My cellphone, computer, and technology as a whole
-Mexican food
-Concealer
-Chapstick
-Contacts

I'll go ahead and stop before the list gets too out of control, but there you have it. Happy Thanksgiving! And may we all remember that we don't have to wait for the last Thursday of every November to ponder the wonderful things in our lives.

Thanksgiving Weekend

I'm absolutely exhausted from the physical, mental, and emotional expenditure over the past four days. My mom and Sherwin (stepdad) arrived Wednesday night for Thanksgiving festivities. We arose early Thursday morning in anticipation of the 5 miler Turkey Trot through Prospect Park, for which I found motivation through my addiction to The Biggest Loser. If they can work out that hard, I can run a measly five miles. And I did! Nothing beats endorphins, crisp autumn weather, and family time. My mom and I even crossed the finish line together!

I rushed home after the race, showered, made spinach dip (which was voted the new Shannon staple h'orderve for family dinners), and headed back to Jim and Lindsay's for Thanksgiving dinner. Our Thanksgiving table was a smorgasbord of New York friends and family: Mom, Sherwin, Linds, Jim, and myself; my roommate, Elle; Jim and Lindsay's friend from club volleyball, Keith; Justin (Jim's close friend) and his dad from San Diego; and later in the evening, Kelly and Rayna stopped by. With the help of eight bottles of wine and one bottle of scotch, the evening was a riot. In true fashion, I managed to drop a block of cheese in my Chardonnay (still ate it...kind of delicious), the boys talked about politics (highly encouraged dinnertime conversation, right?), and we finished up with Oliver children karaoke (to be expected). I'm not sure I can remember a more flawless night with close friends and family.

The view from the Ellis Island ferry

Black Friday gives me anxiety, so shopping was definitely not on the agenda the following morning. Instead, the family rode the ferry to Ellis Island, where we not only saw the famous immigration center, but the most stunning sunset right over the Statue of Liberty. For dinner, we stumbled across an adorable strip of restaurants and bars on Stone Street in the financial district- definitely worthy of exploration in my near future. Afterwards, we went to the Union Square Christmas market and grabbed a glass of wine nearby before calling it a night. I managed to stay out a little later to watch Immortals with Conor, but regretted that decision the next morning when I couldn't pry my eyes open.

Dinner at Bourbon Street

Lindsay, my mom, and I made a quick stop at David's Bridal on Saturday to try on Bridesmaid dresses for Lindsay and Jim's wedding. Well, I was the only one trying on, but they were hemming and hawing at the possibilities. One meander through Rockefeller Center and a martini later, we found ourselves at Bourbon Street on Restaurant Row. The jambalaya was fabulous, but not as fabulous as our waiter. He was a singer/dancer at Busch Gardens a few years before I worked at the park, so we had tons of mutual friends and countless immediate inside jokes. The Busch Gardens Entertainment Department is like a family, so when you meet fellow castmembers, you feel as though you've known them for years. I'm pretty sure he's my new best friend.

That night, How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying was just as hilarious and entertaining as I remembered. I really wanted my mom to see it since it's one of my favorite Broadway productions, so I stopped by the box office on Wednesday to get tickets for Friday night. They were sold out, leaving me empty-handed and annoyed that I'd taken the trip all the way out to Times Square for nothing. After getting home, my mom suggested Saturday, so I trudged back up to the box office later that evening after procrastinating all day. Fairly certain that Saturday night would be sold out, too, I tentatively asked the box office manager, "Do you by any chance have five seats open on Saturday night?" He practically laughed in my face, but checked anyways. Three mouse clicks and he spouted "You are the luckiest girl in New York City!" A party of five cancelled just one minute earlier, leaving five premium seats in the fifth row open for last minute claiming. The best part is, they ended up being one fourth of the price we normally would've paid for those kind of seats! In this case, procrastination proved useful since the theatre would've been full had I asked any earlier in the day.

At the Russian vodka bar

Tess, her brother Christian, Jacob, Mike, Justin, and his dad met us after the show for drinks at a Russian vodka bar, but no one lasted past 1a.m. as exhaustion from the busy weekend set in. We woke up this morning to attend Hillsong, Brittany's New York church. The weekend concluded with brunch, a tour of my apartment, and sending off not only my mom and Sherwin, but Brittany as well. To say I was (am) sad is an understatement. A pit in my stomach still remains as I lie here in bed without Brittany to my right. The bedroom is unbearably giant without her queen size blow up mattress next to the window and clothes on her side of the closet. I tried to distract myself by grabbing dinner with Ryan, the guy I met a few weeks ago from Villanova, on the Upper East Side, but that only lasted for the time being. The second we parted ways at the train station, I became stifled by a cloud of loneliness. I knew not having Brittany around would be hard, but not this hard. When you spend as much time with someone as the two of us did, you become unknowingly addicted to their presence. I feel like I'm going through a break up or something!

I have to find a new apartment this week so that I'm not living in Penn Station on December 15th. Wish me luck. At How to Succeed on Saturday, two people payed $5,000 to meet Daniel Radcliffe (aka Harry Potter) backstage and take home a bowtie he wore in the musical. Someday, I will be able to put a roof over my head just by shaking someone's hand...right.

Life Goes On

Life goes on. We say that a lot without thinking, but there's a reason why the phrase is so popular. No matter the struggle, be it coping with a tragic death or running late for a meeting, life goes on. In the most devastating of circumstances, life may never be the same- but it will go on. One of the most common struggles in life is the dreaded break up. Most of us have experienced at least one heart-wrenching split and are still alive to speak of it. Hearing "life goes on" during that distressing recovery period is the most frustrating thing in the world. But is it true? You bet.

I've had my fair share of break ups. No, that's an understatement. I've definitely had more than what I'd consider fair. I remember once saying to an older mentor, "This is not the kind of thing that ever gets easier." She assured me that it does. I didn't believe her at the time, but looking back, I've realized the wisdom in her words. Enduring failed relationship after failed relationship, most of them short stints that are hardly worthy of the term "relationship," has taught me the art of a quick(er) recovery. Break ups never feel good, but they are much more bearable once you grasp the concept that life really does go on. You really will find someone else. Someone better. Every guy I've dated has plenty of great qualities and I wish them the best in life, but each one has been better than the last- or at least taught me something new.

Now, I'm not claiming to be the master of post-break up emotional stability. I most certainly have my moments of frustration and despair. What I have conquered is shutting up that little voice in my head that says "You'll never find anyone else." Perhaps my ability to kick that thought to the curb is because I've never been in love- at least not in my mature adult years (if I'm even a mature adult). I think I loved my first boyfriend, but much of our relationship was founded on needing each other for that period of our lives rather than the fact that we complimented each other's characters. Hence why I hesitate saying we were "in love" rather than just two people who loved each other. Since then, I've only experienced infatuation. Still, I am thankful that each relationship- major or minor- has strengthened my sense of what I want from my ultimate relationship. I now know how I never want to behave again, how I don't want to be treated, how I do want to be treated, what I'm willing to compromise, and the things I need to stick up for. Not only does life go on after a break up, but you have so much more to look forward to. All of the things you learned can be applied to the next exciting relationship to make it even better than the last. After all, there's a reason it didn't work out other than the fact that your ex was "just a jerk."

Deeply caring for a significant other and mourning that loss is nothing to be ashamed of. We are made to desire companionship. When we lose that companionship, two choices remain: wallow in despair or try to feel better. Of course we think that everyone wants to feel better, but I know in the past I've not wanted to feel better because that means "it's really over." Letting go is not my forte. This is why I respect anyone who forces themselves to feel better after a break up. Some people make themselves busy (like I've learned to do), others find a hobby, while many surround themselves with uplifting quotes and social support. Perhaps all three.

Someone signing the poster on the subway

I met a girl at a promotion last week who was dumped by a guy she'd been dating for nine years-NINE YEARS- just one week before the promotion. They share an apartment in Manhattan, so she has to see him every day as she searches for a new place to live. I do not know how she was able to function at work, but she was taking her happiness into her own hands by getting out of the house and meeting new people. In a more extreme journey to recovery, a young man walked onto the train today wearing a poster over his shoulders like an advertisement, holding two sharpies. He told people on the train that "the love of his life" broke up with him last night and he'd appreciate any encouraging quotes or stories to get him through this difficult time. I was amazed at all of the people who jumped on the chance to write on his poster. Surprisingly, most were men. No one wrote anything mean to make fun of him, rather related with words of comfort.

I don't tend to air my dirty laundry, so that second strategy of healing made me feel a little awkward, but hey- to each his own. Reminding ourselves that life goes on is crucial to our happiness. Dwelling on the past won't change a thing, so we must focus on the possibility of an unimaginably bright future in a world that will keep on turning whether we like it or not.

NYC: Part 1

How is it possible that I've already been here for 3 1/2 months?? Part of me feels like the time has gone so fast, but another part of me feels like I've been here for at least a year. Spending every day in Lynn's home office feels like ages ago, but bringing Brittany up the elevator for the first time feels like last week. I can't believe how much has happened since the first day I stepped out of the Chinatown bus. I've worked as an administrative assistant for a skin care line, a waitress at a Sicilian restaurant, an escort for guests of the NASDAQ closing bell ceremony, a promotions girl handing out rapper-endorsed energy shots, an assistant to an attorney, and next week I will be a holiday elf for a T-Mobile event. That's not a joke. In between those odd jobs, I've seen old friends from high school, Busch Gardens, and dog sledding. I've made new friends with Miss New York girls, promotion girls, my roommates, Lindsay and Jim's friends, and random people at social events. I know the locations of most Starbucks, can give visitors directions, and work the subway system like a pro...except when I lose my balance and go flying into a stranger. Some things will never change.

Tomorrow, I am looking at a possible new apartment. Leaving my current living situation and preparing for Brittany to go back to Virginia (for now) makes me feel like the first chapter of my life in New York is coming to an end. Just when I'm getting in the groove of things, I have to pick up and change locations. Hopefully I'll end up with roommates as amazing as the ones I've had for the last three months, but no matter what, I'm not looking forward to readjusting...again. It'll be nice to have my own room, but odds are I won't be as close to Manhattan, nor will I have the comforts that come with living in a luxury highrise. I've been spoiled, to say the least. I'm just hoping that the room I look at tomorrow works out so that I don't have to go through the "searching for a place to live" process much longer.

Despite the fact that I'm losing the security of my familiar apartment and closest friend aside from family in the City, I'm so grateful for the constants that will remain. One of those constants is my friend, Meg, who spent the past two days with me. We have a little tradition of drinking wine and watching long, old movies, so "Gone With the Wind" fit the bill on Sunday afternoon. Afterwards, we headed to Brittany's 'Bound for Broadway' showcase- the cabaret she and I were both hired for a few weeks ago. Brittany wasn't just amazing- she was hands down the stand out of the entire show! I couldn't have been more proud watching her sing her face off and charm the audience in a classy, worthy manner. So much of the musical theatre world has been tainted by crude jokes and over-the-top lyrics, but Brittany's performance was a testament to how talent and great acting is far more entertaining than performances that are meant to shock the audience.

Yesterday, Meg and I met again to go over the details of my own showcase that is coming up. She is an entertainment lawyer (just sworn in to the New York Bar- congrats, Meg!) and retired performer, so she knows the business inside and out. I can't believe how lucky I am to have met her dog sledding almost a year ago. Not only is she a devoted friend who actually wants to sit down and discuss my career with me, but she's more than qualified in doing so. She helped me pick out the two songs I'll be singing, brainstormed a catchy introduction, showed me the best places to print head shots, and offered her legal advice for free whenever I'm asked to sign a performance contract. I love her apart from all the ways she can/has helped me, but it's sure nice to know someone with her knowledge!

I left Meg's studio apartment in high spirits, excited to get home and start practicing my song choices. After a few hours of memorizing and playing around with karaoke tracks on Youtube, Conor texted me and asked if I'd "fancy a late night movie." Why can't all men talk like the ones in Europe? I looked up movie times for 50/50 and Immortals, assuming he'd have no interest in seeing the recently released Twilight movie, Breaking Dawn. When I told him the options and jokingly said that I didn't even look into Breaking Dawn, he said he wouldn't mind if that's what I wanted to see. Bad move, Conor. I'm a girl- clearly, I will take you up on that offer. Once Brittany found out that I'd be spending the evening with Conor and Edward Cullen, she eagerly asked to join...before you knew it, Conor was trapped in the Breaking Dawn theatre with three drooling girls: Brittany, her friend Rebecca, and myself. I barely felt guilty until 15 minutes in, when I realized that this was by far the worst movie I've seen. If I thought it was awful, I can't imagine what an exhausted, 23-year-old male thought of it. The poor guy probably just wanted a relaxing, enjoyable night after his stressful Monday and sleepless weekend. I owe him big time.

Tonight is mine and Brittany's last night together, just the two of us, so we're having a little date night. But right now I have to run to meet Rayna! We're birthday present shopping for Kelly. Hopefully this awful, rainy weather will lighten up a bit...

New Friends

I love getting to know new friends. Everyone has such interesting stories and insights that are impossible to detect from outward appearances or surfacy conversations. Like I've said a million times on this blog, my favorite thing in the world is listening to alternative perspectives. We can research and learn as much as possible, but without someone else's perspective, we'll never catch a glimpse of the world through anyone's eyes but our own. Not to mention it's just plain fun to hear life stories and relate to someone new. Even simply laughing with a new acquaintance is refreshing since most laughter is stimulated by the ability to understand a shared situation. Humor comes from relatability, and nothing is more natural and comforting than personally relating to a fellow human being.

I've recently gathered new perspectives and shared lots of laughs with my friends from the Street King promotions. They have become regulars in my weekly life because the promos occur at least three days a week. Rayna, Kelly, and Massimo are the most prevalent new friendships, but I really like a lot of the other promoters, as well. Standing around for hours with drink samples allows ample opportunity to get to know each other, particularly since passing the time requires self-entertainment. We all get really goofy after the first hour, cracking each other up since there's nothing else to do. I'm incredibly myself with these people. Well, I don't really think being "myself" means that I have to be goofy and weird...but in this case, that's what I mean. I'm not afraid that they'll think I'm nuts because no one in the group holds back...funny voices, strange faces, and uncontrollable giggles are expected during shifts nowadays.

Only this week have we started hanging out apart from work. Last night, Rayna and I grabbed dinner, where I listened to her life story and how she ended up moving to New York at the exact same time I did. She is a very quiet person, so I was really fascinated to learn about everything she's been through. Afterwards, we visited Massimo and Kelly, who were working a Street King promotion in Union Square (Rayna and I didn't have to work that shift). They had a few hours before being dismissed, so Rayna and I walked around until we found a little bar to wait in, pending their company. An hour or so later, Jacob showed up, followed by Massimo and Kelly. When Massimo left, he was replaced by Conor, who came out at the tail end of the night. With the exception of Jacob, everyone I was with was brand new to me, which made me finally feel at home in New York. You never know who you'll meet or who you'll be spending time with in the future. Up until three weeks ago, I didn't know these people existed. Now, they're the reason I'm beginning to truly enjoy NYC.

Sidewalk Rage

Researchers claim that extremely hot weather breeds anger, but I beg to differ. When I'm extremely cold, my patience takes a major nose dive...particularly when I'm being prevented from reaching my warm, indoor destination. Manhattan is known for crowds, but this time of year is abnormally busy with the holidays drawing near. I can't walk a block without having someone in front of me stop dead in their tracks to figure out where they are, forcing me to a screeching halt with nowhere to move to the right or left. Another blood-boiler is when a group of people walk in a horizontal line across the sidewalk at a pace that would be comfortable for the most lazy of tortoises. This way, no one can get around them; their group controls the entire speed, or lack there of, of foot traffic.

If you suburbians think road rage is bad...try sidewalk rage. Sidewalk rage is far worse for multiple reasons. First of all, you can't let out your aggravation with explicit remarks and vocal outbursts like you can in the privacy of your own vehicle. Nope, unless you want to cause a scene, you have to bottle up all of that frustration. Imagine how it feels five or ten blocks into a walk. On top of the bottling problem, weather is not on your side. You can't turn on the heat to at least make yourself comfortable during a road-rage incident. Instead, freezing cold wind slaps you across the face as you're unwillingly transformed into a human bumper car...making you even more mad that these annoying tourists are delaying progress.

Brit and me promoting Street King

I guess you sign up for that kind of thing when you move to New York City, but that doesn't make it any more bearable. You sign up for hurricanes when you move to Florida, but it doesn't mean you like them. I wish I could come up with a solution (for obnoxious tourists...not hurricanes- I can't really mess with Mother Nature's choices). While promoting Street King in the 37 degree weather on a street corner this morning, I started brainstorming possible ways to avoid the crowds. What if there were trains and sidewalks designated for residents only? Nope, that wouldn't work. How would you know someone's a resident? There's too much turnover in this city to keep track of who actually lives here. Okay...what if they build underground tunnels that were only accessible to people who have more than $40 on their metro cards? That way, you know that everyone there is a seasoned NYC traveler. Eh, way too unrealistic. I'VE GOT IT: what if there were lanes, like on roads? You can't stop in the left lane. Even better: the homeless people could paint the lines! Job opportunity. BAAM. Obviously, this was my best idea.

Don't worry, my week has included more than just brainstorming ways to avoid irritating walkers. My friend from the Street King promotions, Kelly, invited me to a fundraiser for her kickball team on Tuesday night. Wednesday, I worked for the attorney and had my weekly date with Lindsay to watch "Revenge." Yesterday, I worked at Street King all day (see picture), then went out for happy hour with Jim, Jacob, Justin, and Linds for Lindsay's birthday. Today, I did Street King again (make that money!) and am getting my staple cheap Thai dinner with Rayna, Kelly's roommate and fellow Street King promoter, then possibly drinks with Conor. Finally, my social life is picking up! I have the stress of finding a new apartment and a full time job looming over my head, but I'm much happier than I've been so far in New York now that at least one area of my life is coming together...even if it's technically the least important part. Actually, I think socializing is quite important for maintaining sanity. Enjoying time with friends rejuvenates me, enabling me to be more productive and positive in nailing down other aspects of survival.

I don't have any major plans this weekend, aside from Street King events, so I'm planning on saving up all my sleep for Thanksgiving weekend! My mom and stepdad will be in town (wooo!!) and it will be Brittany's last weekend in NYC. Plenty of celebrations to look forward to! For the record, that refers to a celebration of Brit's time in New York...not a celebration of her departure...

Facebook: The Business of Business

At 23 years old, I live in a world where friendship is confirmed by the click of a button, not by dedication to personal phone calls or tangible interaction. As I was taking my daily scroll through Facebook, I saw pictures of old acquaintances, old boyfriends, old teachers, and even a few of their pets. This got me thinking. Is it really necessary to know when my ex has a new girlfriend? Or if the girl I talked to that one time during English class in high school has the same shirt as me? Or if someone's adorable new puppy isn't potty trained yet? The answer is obvious. Still, checking Facebook remains a ritualistic activity in my daily life.

So the question arises...should I get rid of Facebook? Preposterous. I wouldn't dare separate myself from the social circuit and the ability to get the juicy "ins" to people's lives without them ever knowing. I'm only half kidding...because honestly, Facebook is a great source of communication for people you want to stay in touch with, but don't have the time to call once a week. The primary issue with the social networking business is, well, just that: knowing too much of other people's business. Not that they mind. After all, people choose what they share. But that ability to control what is shared results in confusing, often false portrayals of what that person really like. One minute a lovey dovey picture of a seemingly perfect couple pops up on your newsfeed, the next, a little red heart with a crack down the middle appears and says "So-and-so is now single." How depressing. And shocking! Here I was, just yesterday, wishing I could have a relationship like theirs.

You see, that's the point: on Facebook, people can present themselves to the rest of the world in whatever way they wish. Who doesn't want everyone to think they're happy-go-lucky, witty, in a loving relationship, and up to date with fads? Heck, my ex told me he knew a girl who said she deletes a status if less than three people "like" it. That way, it looks like everything she has to say is interesting. Everything, down to what other people write on one's wall, can be manipulated. Consequently, only the shell of a person- a shell that is polished brightly nearly every day- is what we observe on Facebook. Our "friends" are to us only who they want to be. With real friends, we know their struggles, issues, strengths, pains, and weight fluctuations. With Facebook friends, we know their new haircuts, inside jokes we wish we were a part of, and the skinniest pictures they can find of themselves.

You Facebook users may be thinking, "But Shannon, you've forgotten one major group of Facebookers: the oversharers." You know what I have to say to that?

While much of what is shared on Facebook is artificial business, much of it is true. Sometimes the truth hurts. Sometimes we're better off not knowing that our friends went on a trip without us. Sometimes we're better off not knowing that the person who said they didn't have time to text us did have time to comment on a picture. Sometimes we're better off not knowing that the guy we've started dating's ex-girlfriend was a size double zero. I'd just rather be in the dark about that one. As much as these kinds of tidbits are unnecessary stressors, us humans welcome them nonetheless. Our curiosity yearns to be fed, and through Facebook, we have the ability to do just that. I wonder if Billy, the guy I'm secretly in love with, and Jane are still dating...well, she isn't in his profile picture and he hasn't written on her wall in a while. Wait, but she liked his status yesterday, so that's a curve ball. Do we really want to become consumed with overanalyzing situations we have no control over? Or let's say "Billy" and "Jane" have pictures of themselves plastered all over their pages. Do we seriously want to have our heartbreak rubbed in our faces?

Despite the cons, I still love Facebook. I've been able to maintain contact with people I never would have time to catch up with otherwise. Sure, a quick wall post or message isn't as meaningful as a phone call, but a little "Hello, I've been thinking of you" can make my day. For example, when I competed for Miss Virginia, people came out of the woodwork to wish me luck on my wall. Knowing that so many people were excited and supportive made me swell with happiness. Facebook is also very useful for planning events, sharing important news, and even finding roommates. I'm currently looking for a new place to live in NYC come December, and most of my leads have come from someone who knows someone on Facebook.

Good or bad, social networking is a part of the new millennium. We fuel the craze, which means we can also choose the extent to which it affects our lives. What's real is real and what's not is not, but let us remember that depending on Facebook for that information is a gamble.

 

Shannon Oliver

Studied Psychology at Christopher Newport University 

Lives in New York, New York 

<3 In an open relationship with Ricky Bourke

One of those pieces of information is a joke. So how much do you really know about me if you're only my friend on Facebook? Guess you'll have to give me a call to find out!

SO New York

Sometimes the only way to describe my experiences in the City is the phrase "so New York." That pretty much defined my weekend.

Thursday night, Brittany and I went to a musical on the Upper East Side called "Give a Man a Mask." It's a brand new production, so we viewed it in the "working stage." The cast members were all Equity members (actors union), though, so their performances were still outstanding and polished. In a little underground black box theatre, the production consisted of only three men: one drag queen narrator and two gay guys who fell in love. So New York. I loved it, obviously. The actors took a rather abstract script and turned it into something relatable and thought-provoking, which was really interesting to me since they were developing original characters. Another cool note: one of the actors was the voice of Gaston in Disney's animated Beauty & the Beast! Whenever he sang, all I could think of was "No one's slick as Gaston! No one's quick as Gaston! No one's neck's as incredibly thick as Gaston!" So much for being a focused, mature Upper East Side theatre goer.

I spent that night at Jim and Lindsay's apartment so that Brittany's friend who was visiting could take my bed. Friday morning, Linds came into their guest room to get some clothes for work (she keeps some of her stuff in there) and my first thought when I stirred was "Linds! It's like Christmas! Dad and Jean come today!" Then I passed right back out until 8:15, when I had to go to my promotion. As you can tell, I was really excited for the weekend with Dad, Jean, and Drew. My high expectations were definitely met.

Drew and me at Mars 2112

Dinner on Friday was a two part ordeal. First, Mars 2112 to show my little brother the restaurant Jim and I loved when we were his age and visited New York. There, the adults just ate appetizers and made fun of the aliens running around. So New York (in the touristy way). After our fair share of alien dance performances and the first round of martinis, we relocated to a really nice place on Restaurant Row for the delicious cuisine New York is known for. After the second half of our dinner outing, everybody went next door to Don't Tell Mama, the piano bar I sang at a few weeks ago. Jacob, Justin, and Brittany met us there for more festivities. We had a blast- Jim even got up and sang two songs with the pianist! If I was better at impromptu performances, I would've done the same, but I still have a fear of unrehearsed presentations...maybe I'll get over that one day. Around 1 or 2 a.m., we called it quits for the night in preparation for our big day on Saturday. Not to mention Dad and Jean have an 8-year-old who wakes them up at 7 a.m. whether they like it or not. I am not ready for children.

Jim, Lindsay, and I got to bed around 3 a.m. after watching the first half of Beauty & the Beast, no doubt inspired by my Gaston experience. The next morning, Linds woke me up earlier than my body would have liked so that I could get home and shower in time for lunch at noon. Brittany joined us for the pre-show meal in Times Square, then the family went on to see "Anything Goes." Sadly, Sutton Foster stopped playing Reno Sweeney a few weeks ago, so we just missed her Tony-winning performance, but her replacement was phenomenal.

The plan was to go to Jim and Lindsay's after the show for Happy Hour drinks because Dad and Jean have yet to see the place. Theoretically, we would then go to dinner in Brooklyn and call it an early night. One little problem: all trains running to Jim and Lindsay's neighborhood were under construction this weekend. The only way in and out of their area was by car. Not a big deal, right? Wrong. Cabs change over shifts around 5 p.m. every night, right when we were trying to catch them in Times Square. With the swarms of people, Times Square is not the easiest place to hail a cab in the first place, much less during a transition time. To make matters worse, the few cabs that were on duty got claimed even faster since anyone needing to get to Brooklyn had to take one. After a series of unfortunate events, the gang made it to our destination over two hours later. I won't get into the details of that expedition to save my brother a heart attack if he reads this...I don't want to put him through those painfully frustrating hours a second time.

Martinis to the rescue. We were all much happier after settling into the restaurant an hour after our original reservation. Drew told knock knock jokes and led a great game of Simon Says, which I'm sure was humorous to the employees and other customers in the upscale restaurant. One host even started playing Simon Says with us. Party table!

All the siblings!

Due to the miserable trek to Brooklyn, we hadn't made it to Jim and Lindsay's apartment before dinner. So despite heavy eyes and throbbing feet, everybody headed there afterwards. No matter bad travels, exhaustion, or any other hindrance, Dad and Jean still are absolutely wonderful to be around. Chatting with them on the couch was a lovely conclusion to the weekend. Well, not exactly the conclusion to my weekend.

On their way back to Manhattan, Dad, Jean, Drew, and Susan (Jean's friend who had joined us) dropped me off in Chelsea. By this time, it was already 11:30 p.m. and I could hardly keep my eyes open, but Conor and I decided to go see the movie J. Edgar. I somehow managed to stay awake until 5:30 in the morning. I don't know what has gotten into me lately! When I walked into our room, Brittany rolled over and mumbled, "What time is it??" "Erm..uhh, 5:30." I'm going to have to revoke my self-proclaimed Grandma status if I keep this up.

From a liberal black box musical to alien tourist trap to Broadway show to Restaurant Row to an outrageously late night...I'd say I had a very New York weekend! It's the city that never sleeps...yep, I'm definitely helping that reputation.

Personal Growth

Changing is a necessary part of life. Whether purposefully or subconsciously, we are all constantly molded into different beings. The core of who we are stays consistent, but our views, social styles, and interests vary with each life experience and/or lesson along the way.

Brittany and I have talked a lot about self-growth lately, as have Lindsay and I. Both of these women teach, challenge, and encourage me almost every day here in NYC, so it's only fitting that they are most in tune with the changes they see in my character- and vice versa! Brittany started out a uniquely wonderful person, but I've never seen someone "come into their own," so to speak, as fast as she has. Since moving to New York, Brit has allowed her thoughts and moral fiber to be challenged in ways she never has before. In other words, she's no longer afraid to face her weaknesses and become stronger by conquering them. She's also no longer afraid to recognize her strengths and expand upon them. By nature, she's a rather submissive person, but refuses to let that keep her from becoming passionate about her beliefs and desires anymore. Additionally, Brit recognizes the importance of developing and maintaining relationships that are healthy and motivational, rather than easy and stagnant. I'm so proud of her and grateful to live with someone who doesn't want to be complacent in life. The way she takes everything to heart and learns about her personal nature helps me to embrace my own recent growth.

Brittany, Lindsay, Jim, and Jacob- the four people closest to me in NYC- have all shared that they've seen a change in my persona in the past three months. They've known me for years (except Brit- but we took the condensed fast-track course in friendship), so I trust that what they have to say is meaningful. The overall verdict is that I've become more calm and independent. Not that I was wacky and obnoxious prior to the move...but the pressure to achieve acceptance by others has become less significant. I've always been confident, but will be honest in that I've always struggled with comparison. One of my vices is believing I always have to unnaturally alter who I am in order to be desirable. Not in the pageant world or around my friends, but often in romantic relationships or in groups I don't know as well. I feel this need to be perfect or else I'll be replaced by something better.

Just recently, however, I've had a break through: I can never be anyone else, therefore I am irreplaceable. I can always push myself to be a better individual, of course, but I've stopped comparing myself to people I'll never be...or at least have done so less frequently. I'll never be perfect. :) Jake said that he sees a difference in the way I carry myself and interact with people, which is odd since I haven't consciously behaved any differently. Lindsay and Jim shared with me the emotional independence (in a good way) that New York instills in people, and that I'm becoming more that way. Brit said she doesn't see me negatively sizing myself up next to others as often. I don't mean to paint myself out to have been an abnormally insecure person prior to living in New York, but I'm sure it was a trait that my closest friends could pick up on. Now, their words of encouragement provide inexplicable support during a time that has been so difficult. To know that I'm growing into a stronger person, in some ways without realizing so, reassures me that all of the struggles I've faced in these first few months have been worthwhile.

Marathon Weekend

The elite men running past us at mile 7

Women are so emotional. We can't really help it. Lindsay and I both got teary-eyed when watching the ING New York City Marathon on Sunday. Getting teary-eyed watching a marathon may sound ridiculous, but the runners and the atmosphere were so inspiring that we couldn't help but be touched. I woke up at 7:30 to get to Park Slope, Brooklyn by 9 a.m., where I met Jim, Lindsay, and Macfie (a.k.a. Laura, Lindsay's friend) at the 7 mile mark of the race. We were early enough to see the handicapped participants come by, moving forward with only the strength of their arms rotating racing bikes, or I guess technically tricycles. Many of them had one or no legs, many were elderly, and all of them were absolutely inspirational. Knowing that they wouldn't let their disabilities hinder their drive to live and challenge themselves humbled me. I have found as much joy in few things as cheering for each of them as they wheeled past. Many of them had their names on their shirts, so seeing their smiles after I'd yell "Go, John! You're doing great!" became addicting. Providing that boost of energy and support felt better than opening any present on Christmas. Volunteering, service, and general encouragement create the most outstanding double sided situations. The receivers get the assistance they need, while the "givers" are rewarded with happiness, too!

The runners were just as amazing as the handicapped wave, pushing their bodies to miraculous extents. My mom ran a marathon (maybe more than one...I don't remember) when she was my age, so I couldn't help but think of her while watching. She told me she started running as a mental outlet- probably why she says that anyone who feels depressed and/or scatterbrained should just go for a run rather than take medicine- and has continued to run nearly every single day of her life. She, along with many others, have told me that the satisfaction in finishing a marathon is unmatched by almost any other accomplishment. I loved being a part of that journey for the NYC runners, helping them to move forward towards that exciting goal when they were losing steam (particularly when they were at mile 17 on the Upper East Side).

Like I just mentioned, we took the train to the Upper East Side around 1 p.m., after a yummy Sunday brunch. There we met Jacob, Justin, and Mike for afternoon football (after more marathon cheering, of course). Those guys are a riot, so the afternoon was pretty entertaining. Later that evening, I went back down the island to Chelsea for a drink with Conor. We went to a great underground bar that Mike recommended and then returned to this funny airplane-themed place we found last Thursday. I was so tired from all the late nights, early mornings, and lively activities this weekend that I literally started falling asleep while we were out...a good sign to go home. I slept like a baby that night.

Yesterday, I worked for the attorney again and did another Attack! promotion. Also, I'm planning on having my Stardust audition later this week, so perhaps I'll have steady income by the end of the year...not soon enough! Oh well, things are starting to look up- and my dad, Jean, and Drew are visiting this weekend! Now that is definitely something to look forward to.

Nights That Turn Into Mornings

What a great 48 hours! I've had some of the best consecutive days since I moved to the City. Thursday I had lunch with my new friend Ryan, then spent the afternoon cleaning and relaxing. Later that night, I went out another new friend, Conor, out in Manhattan. Conor and I had a 30 second conversation when I was promoting Four Loko at the Halloween parade after party, so we exchanged numbers upon discovering we're both new to NYC.

On Thursday, Conor and I met at a cool little dive bar (I love dive bars), but he was running a tad late because of his rugby practice. Consequently, I had to fend for myself for about 20 minutes. Waiting at a bar by myself isn't normally uncomfortable, but the only seat open happened to be directly in front of the giant serve-yourself water jug. If that wasn't awkward enough, I knocked over a stack of cups when I ordered my Captain and Diet. The bartender laughed and said, "Let's act like we've done this before..." At least they weren't glass. As I sat sipping my drink, staring at the enormous white container six inches from my face, four guys walked up to the group of girls on my left. They were obviously all together, so slowly but surely, I got completely kicked out of my stool to make more room for their group. Luckily, the one on my right had just opened, but I definitely looked like the loser girl sitting by myself in front of the water jug. I was extra happy to see Conor walk in so I could prove that I wasn't the token depressed, socially awkward girl drinking alone.

From there, he took me to a really neat old speakeasy that keeps the historic tradition of secrecy in that it has no sign and requires everyone to knock before entering. I felt pretty cool since Conor knew the doorman and we were allowed to bypass the line. Inside was small and swanky with it's dark lighting, couches, and curtain-enclosed booths. We had a great time chatting on our fancy loveseat in the main room for a couple of hours, enjoying the cozy ambiance and special service. He just moved here from Ireland and has had some fascinating experiences, like backpacking around Southeast Asia for six weeks, so the conversation made time fly. Not to mention he has an awesome Irish accent, so I could talk to him forever.

Brittany and I after the audition

I made it home by 5 a.m. (insane, I know) after stopping at one more place following the speakeasy. After a few hours of sleep, Brittany and I headed to our audition for a "Bound for Broadway" showcase. I sang "If I Were A Bell" from Guys & Dolls, not expecting to be booked at all, much less on the spot. Right after I sang, the director slapped the table and said "Girl, you're fierce. You want to do the show?" Talk about a confidence boost. I mean, he had an over-the-top, fantastic personality and complimented everyone, so I'm sure it's just in his personality to exaggerate. None-the-less, I was really excited and can't wait to sing two songs in a one-night cabaret come December! Even better, Brittany was also booked for a cabaret in just three weeks! These showcases are great opportunities for exposure; the director invites agents, casting directors, and other important people to impress in the industry.

We celebrated by splurging at a bookstore that Ryan told me about, called Strand. I bought a copy of The Hunger Games, which came highly recommended by some of my Pearlfriends. The store itself was really awesome, bragging an inventory of books that could span 18 miles, so just wandering around was fun. My exhaustion set in after 30 minutes of browsing the stacks, though, so we headed home to relax before going out with Jim and Lindsay that night.

Brittany, Lindsay, and me on the train!

Brittany, Lindsay, Laura (Lindsay's friend from college) and I spent a few hours at Jim and Lindsay's apartment, then met Jim and Jacob in the City. We bounced around to three different spots before getting settled at a place called "Jekyll and Hyde," where a fake electric chair became the source of entertainment. Conor joined us and was immediately forced to sit in the chair upon arrival. Poor guy...already getting hazed by my brother and friends. Around 2 a.m., everyone headed home except Conor and myself. We took the train back to the place we first met, Webster Hall, to catch the end of a dubstep band called Nero. His cousin manages the venue, which is one of the oldest nightclubs in New York and has been designated a New York City landmark. Needless to say, it's a pretty popular spot. Again, thanks to Conor's connections, we evaded the line and didn't have to pay for anything- even drinks! Nice. The concert was a really fun experience since I've never been to an electronic show before and didn't know what to expect. You can't even think during a show like that because the ground shakes from vibrations, lights flash everywhere, and everyone is packed together while decked out in glow sticks. I'm a new fan.

This morning, I got home at 6 a.m. I never stay out that late. What is going on? I thought you needed to be on some kind of drug to have that much energy (like I've said, I'm such a grandma), but both nights were a blast and totally worth the sleep deprivation. For the second night (morning...) in a row, I slept for only a few short hours before starting my day. Today, I journeyed to a film studio near Times Square to watch my brother hold auditions for his short film. He just started film school on top of his day job managing comedians, so he is casting his first project. I don't know how he does it all. I laughed for an hour straight since Jim's script is hilarious, and was also reminded of how much I love acting! Singing is my focus, but observing the interpretations of the characters made me miss that aspect of performing.

This evening, I got through the first half of the Alabama vs. LSU football game before crashing. Jim, Laura, and Linds didn't want me to leave, but if they expect me to wake up at 7:30 tomorrow morning to watch the New York City marathon- I need sleep! On that note, goodnight.

It's A Small World

It's such a small world, even in NYC. Sure, over eight million people reside here, but everyone is somehow connected. They've either worked with, lived with, dated, or are Facebook friends with someone you know. A perfect example was yesterday, when I worked for the attorney near Wall Street. The first few hours consisted of re-typing court documents that required a "by hand" copy, which I actually enjoyed since I like to type. I didn't understand half of the jargon, but hey, it was a fun challenge to make my fingers spell foreign words. When I finished up that assignment and made a few copies on the copy machine (and by few, I mean a couple hundred), David, my boss, sent me to the New York County Courthouse. The weather was gorgeous, so I was happy to take the 20 minute walk up Broadway. My mission was to figure out the status of a court document that the county clerk was supposed to have scanned into some system back in September. Does that statement make it obvious that I had no idea what I was actually doing? Oh well. I did everything David instructed, down to "for a last resort, go to court room 242 and talk to the clerk on the left hand side of the room." "Um, what do I do if there's a trial in session?" "Just walk to the front and wait for the clerk to acknowledge you." Great. That won't be embarrassing at all. I trusted that my boss knew the appropriate behavior in a court room though, so when I hit dead ends everywhere else in the building, I made my way to 242.

A picture I sent to my friends while waiting

I awkwardly shoved open the unnecessarily heavy wooden doors to find an empty court room, thank goodness, save the police officer sitting in the witness stand. He told me the clerk would be back in 10 minutes, so I made myself comfortable. Five minutes later, a good looking guy in a suit (we all know I appreciate suits) asked to speak with someone, too, and sat down a few benches away. Nice! But a man came out of the back office and called him in, leaving me alone again, texting random court room pictures to some friends. Normal.

Ten or fifteen minutes later, the good looking guy in a suit reemerged, raised his eyebrows at me humorously, and asked "So, are you just hiding out in here all day?" I laughed and explained my situation. He then said "You know, I swear I know you from somewhere. You look so familiar." He looked kind of familiar, too, but in a generic good-looking-guy-in-a-business-suit way. We started brainstorming what the connection could be, but of course at that moment, the clerk walked in. I said, "Well maybe we'll cross paths again and figure it out!" and rushed off to take care of business. I didn't make much progress in terms of what David needed to get accomplished, but at least I got a signed copy of the document from the judge...and he said I did well when I got back to the office, so that's a plus.

When I walked out of the courthouse, our paths indeed crossed again. Brad (I learned his name in the 30 second conversation) was waiting for his father at the entrance. He's an attorney, as is his dad, mom, and two brothers. Wow. His dad walked up right after he explained the family occupation, so we said hello and turned to leave. Great timing. On our walk back to Wall Street, he asked what I "do." HAH. Not much. I explained the musical theatre scene and brought up the promotion gigs. He said, "Oh, I know some girls who did something like that for Street King the other night." STOP IT. I couldn't believe it. This was the Brad that my friend Rayna, who I met at the Street King promotion, had mentioned she'd been hanging out with. It dawned on him that the reason I looked familiar was because he saw a picture of Rayna, Kelly, and me at the promotion on Facebook. Go figure.

That great, big, long story all goes to show what a small world we live in. We probably pass dozens of people every day who are somehow connected to us. Strangers are less of strangers if we see the world in that light, which is a comforting thought in a city of eight million. Viewing the vast population becomes less daunting with that mindset, too, because I feel more confident befriending strangers. For example, last Thursday I met a really nice guy who went to Villanova that works in the building next to my apartment. We grabbed lunch today! Or at the Halloween event on Monday, I met a guy who just moved here from Ireland and we're going out for a drink later. Okay...that just makes it sound like I'm finding dates. What I mean is that I've been more proactive in meeting people (even girls- like Kelly and Rayna!) because everyone seems less intimidating as I've come to find so many connections.

Tomorrow, Brit and I are going to an audition together, then meeting Lindsay and a friend of her's from college, Laura, for happy hour! I'm really looking forward to this weekend!

Day 84

One of us was bound to get sick from that winter weather promotion. Guess who it was? You bet.

The only time I should ever be that cold: Dog sledding

I woke up Sunday morning with a little sore throat, a lot of body aches, and the overall feeling that my immune system was less than pleased with my decision to stand in 33 degree rain for three hours the day before. As much as I didn't want to, I forced myself to bundle back up for the third and final day of the Street King promotion. Luckily, the final day took place a 15 minute walk from my apartment, so I didn't have to get up as early. The downside was that it was still freezing outside. Buried in a camisole, turtleneck, fleece vest, scarf, down jacket, large t-shirt (provided by Street King, worn over all that), and unzipped fleece jacket (open to reveal the t-shirt logo), I felt warm and prepared leaving my building. No matter how bundled you are, however, standing still in the biting cold for hours on end will make anyone turn into a Popsicle. My sore throat started out as a subtle pang each time I swallowed, but an hour in the cold kicked any subtlety right out the door. Switchblades took the place of saliva, stalactites replaced my fingers, and no amount of desire to make money or embarrassment in leaving could make me stay. Two hours was enough. The team manager knew I was sick from the second I arrived because I was incapable of talking louder than a breathy southern bell in a tea room, so he was extremely understanding when I asked to be dismissed early. Considering there were more of us at the table than people actually attending the street fair, it's safe to say I was not missed.

Before I could wrap myself in my faded old comforter and zebra slippers, I had to go into Manhattan to finally meet with the manager of Stardust. Of course I would have rather gone straight home, but I've been trying to get an audition at this place for weeks, so jumping on the opportunity was crucial. I felt slightly guilty leaving the promo and heading elsewhere, but I reminded myself that I had planned on going to Stardust afterwards, anyway, and that there was a big difference between quietly sitting in a warm train/restaurant and yelling at passerby's in arctic conditions. Besides, if I'd stayed outside, my health would have been compromised and there's no way I would've been able to attend my new promo the following night. It's a give and take world.

Sitting in Stardust while waiting for the manager was really encouraging- finally a place where I felt I belonged! All of the servers were incredibly talented and seemed fun and welcoming, like most other entertainers I've worked with. They all smiled at me as I awkwardly waited at the bar by myself, cracking jokes with each other as they walked by. Even the "table talk" was fun to eavesdrop in on. "Table 51 just got engaged!" or "Campers at table 30." This is where I need to be...if not on Broadway or a cruise ship. A place where my coworkers have the same passions, humor, and drive as myself. A place that puts emphasis on an upbeat atmosphere and memorable experience. A place that will remind me why I'm in New York whenever I'm there. You better believe I put on my biggest smile when the manager sat down next to me. He instructed me to prepare a 50's or 60's upbeat song and a pre-70's Broadway show tune, then email him when I'm ready to audition. Since they already hired enough servers for the season, he'll put my file on hold (if I pass the audition...) and call me if a space opens. I was thrilled for this opportunity because most people who miss the group auditions at the beginning of a season have to wait until the next open call to be seen. All I can pray is that a current server lands a tour and they need a last minute replacement! Oh, and that I pass the audition. No pressure.

I spent the rest of the day drinking tea, eating chicken noodle soup, and hoping that my sore throat would magically disappear. Drink those fluids! I stayed in bed/couch the entire evening and next day leading up to my 9:30p.m.-4:00a.m. promotion on Halloween night. I was hired as a Brand Ambassador for Four Loko at the big NYC Halloween Parade after party in Soho. For the record, Four Loko is legal again because they took all caffeine out of the ingredients. Alcoholic energy drinks are a no no. Because of all my rest and fluids, my sore throat did not worsen and I made it through the event. The promo girls were required to wear 80's attire, so Elle (my roommate) lent me her pink legwarmers, which I paired with heels, leggings, a mini skirt, and the purple Four Loko shirt. I even crimped my hair. Handing out free samples to drunk people wasn't exactly the time of my life, but the event went by fast since I was pretty busy...which makes sense since I got ditched by the guy who was assigned to help me at my table. I was pouring drinks, marking wristbands, and trying to keep people from falling on me all at the same time. Good thing I went to college. Actually, the girls I've worked events with almost all have their degrees and are extremely intelligent young ladies, so maybe it really is a good thing I went to college to land these promos. Any job is competitive these days.

The metro card guy looked something like this

When I waited for my train at Union Square after the event, zombies, scantily clad princesses, and a man in an intricate metro-card costume were sprawled out on the platform. It was quite a sight. I'm pretty sure I've never seen so many people sitting on the ground while waiting for the train. Most of the time, no one wants to set their precious behinds on that that nasty cement, but I guess Halloween is the exception. Halloween seems to be the exception for a lot of things. Like clothes, for instance.

My sore throat is still hovering, but tomorrow I'm working for the attorney again. I'm actually looking forward to some mindless faxing, copying, and filing. I'll be glad to be out of the house without having to expend too much energy that might provoke my sore throat to turn into something worse. Day 84 in New York! I've lasted 12 days longer than Kim Kardashian's marriage.