New World, New Weather

So many worlds exist within this world, as I slightly touched on at the end of my last post. Do you ever think about the cross country skiing world, dog showing world, glassblowing world, or laser tag world? Okay, sometimes I think about the laser tag world...and wish I was in it. Still, at least once a year, I'm exposed to a whole new community of people. Lingo, inside jokes, and intra-community celebrities that I never knew existed surface as I attempt to integrate myself into whatever new society I've stumbled upon.

Kelly, me, and Rayna with Street King memorabilia

This weekend, I was introduced to the Promotions World. You know all of those really obnoxious people who bombard you with free stuff at fairs and on street corners in hopes that you start buying their product? I am now one of them. Perhaps I'm being a tad harsh in saying that all promotions are obnoxious. I personally love free stuff, so they're only bothersome when I'm in a rush. Also, having new-found experience working one, I see that they're quite effective and fun to be a part of.

During the many times I've scooted past stands in my lifetime, never once did I stop to think, Hmm...I wonder how those people got that job. I suppose my assumption was that they work for the company that owns whatever they're trying to give me. For the most part, as I discovered this weekend, that is not the case. Businesses often use promotion companies to hire outside Brand Ambassadors to, what do you know, promote their products. This explains how I ended up in a black and gold hip hop hat (not pictured, sadly) handing out samples of "Street King" energy shots this weekend. I was seriously asked if I work for G-Unit since I was promoting 50 Cent's new drink (50 Cent is a rapper, Mom). I wish I worked for G-Unit and kicked it with 50 Cent and The Game. Instead, I've started working for Attack! Marketing (The "!" is actually part of the company's name, to clear up any confusion). Basically, they send me emails with promotions in New York City and I apply for each one that fits my schedule/for which I fit the client's requirements. Most events pay really well, so why not? I'll have ample stories to tell my kids of how I made ends meet in New York when I was "young and crazy."

Standing on the corner outside of Penn Station on a Friday night with a tray full of plastic shot glasses garners a lot of attention. People decked out in their gory, slutty, funny, and lame Halloween costumes seemed rather disappointed when we explained that it was only an energy shot, not booze. Kelly, Rayna (my new friends), and I laughed when blatantly underage kids would excitedly ask, "Is it alcohol??" Yes, oh brilliant minds, we are handing out free alcohol on the corner of a street in New York City. Totally legal. Energy drinks seem to be popular, anyways, so they went pretty fast. I thought it'd be difficult to get strangers to drink an unknown substance out of a plastic cup, but apparently people are more trusting than I'd anticipated. Not sure if that's a good or bad thing, but perhaps that's why they hire tall girls in their early twenties to hand them out. We don't look like the roofying type.

Today we had the pleasure of promoting Street King in Queens (that is a lot of royalty), the borough most difficult to get to from Brooklyn. I begrudgingly rolled out of bed at 7a.m. after being wide awake until 3:30a.m. (we were asked to sample the 6 hour energy shot ourselves last night. I guess it works- and I only took half...) to begin my 1 1/2 hour journey north. A whopping total of 12 miles. I almost died when I pushed open the lobby door to find snow on the ground. REALLY? I have not been dreaming of a white Halloween. It's two holidays early. To make matters worse, the snow turned into stinging cold rain by the time I reached Starbucks. Perfect weather for outdoor promoting. Memories of last January came flooding back, reminding me of when I proclaimed "I'll never say 'I'm cold' again" after spending seven days in below zero conditions dog sledding across Ely, Minnesota. If I could handle that, I could most certainly handle a couple hours in New York's October cold front. False. We were all so miserable 2 1/2 hours into the event that we closed up shop early. First of all, no one wanted to lolly-gag around to drink Street King when they were being blasted in the face by daggers of rain and bone chilling gusts of wind. Secondly, we all lost any feeling in our appendages 15 minutes in (that's with wearing gloves), so opening small bottles and writing down information became grueling tasks. Maybe better luck tomorrow.

I trudged home in the slippery slush, grateful for my black UGG boots matching the uniform requirements, and arrived at my apartment looking something like this:

I was warned about Northeast weather, but considering it took me two hours to thaw after getting home, I don't think I was entirely prepared. Why didn't the most popular city in the world develop in, I don't know, let's say San Diego? Who's idea was it to plop all those skyscrapers in a place that is freezing, windy, and unbearable half the year? Those old developers were not wearing their thinking caps.

With all of the promotions happening, I've decided not to dress up for Halloween this year (unless you count the sopping dog costume or hip hop diva uniform). Besides, I went out to a great little bar with Jim, three of his college a cappella buddies, Jacob, and Lindsay on Thursday, so I got my fill of fun. I can only handle one late night per weekend these days. Pathetic. The night was a blast, though- definitely worth my one open slot (I'm counting Thursdays as part of the weekend, I guess). I even met a Villanova grad who works right next to my apartment! Since no one I meet ever works or lives near me, that was pretty exciting.

Well, it's 8 p.m. and I got 3 1/2 hours of sleep last night, so I think I'll hit the sack. Hopefully tomorrow isn't as brutal outside. And Happy Birthday, Dad! As he likes to say, today he turns the Virginia speed limit: 55!

Conceit

Between pageant girls and performers, I'm always surrounded by talented, beautiful, and driven young women. I love my friendships with all of them, but I've started to become weary of the self-obsession these hobbies bring about. For the most part, participants are able to handle the competition gracefully, but others become narcissistic without even realizing it. They're still moral, giving, wonderful people, except they subconsciously (or consciously without admittance) think they're a better breed for whatever reason: talent, looks, being the most well-known, etc. I'd be lying if I said that I haven't felt myself falling into the trap of conceit at times. When you have a crown on your head, people constantly tell you that you're gorgeous and special. When you sing for a crowd, applause and compliments come flooding in. Anyone with any sort of self worth would start to feel pompous if they didn't take a step back to assess the reality of their humanness. Really, is anyone that much more interesting because their vocal chords produce a pleasant sound or they have a long hair and a tan? No. But with the constant attention, pageant girls and performers are prone to believing that they are.

Because of my annoyance when I see unattractive arrogance develop in an acquaintance or friend, I'm overly sensitive to my own pride. Even writing this blog post concerns me because I don't believe I'm "better" than the girls who are narcissistic by expressing my dismay for their behavior. I mean that. We all have our vices and mine are no better than having a big head. I'm writing this only in hopes that we all take a moment to honestly evaluate the way we view ourselves.

As I mentioned above, I can hardly blame entertainers for having superiority complexes. After all, the spotlight prompts excessive praise. The trick, however, is to take each compliment with a grain of salt. I'm not saying we must brush off kind words (something I'm guilty of and constantly scolded for); it's important to be grateful for the recognition. Rather, we need to be aware of taking them too seriously. For instance, someone might say "You were the most talented singer onstage tonight!" or "This is your year! You deserve that crown!", but that does not mean you are, in fact, more talented than the others or that you deserve something more than anyone else. Sadly, many of these well-intended compliments worm their way to the back of girls' brains, where they sit on a cloud of vanity and pass judgement on other people. Most women don't even realize that they've become snobbish because they think their belief in their one-of-a-kind awesomeness is vindicated by all of their faithful admirers. We have to be so careful (I know I do) to only "believe we're the best" during the performance or audition so that we exude confidence onstage, but then let that notion fade away during our day to day lives.

The second you start thinking "Wow, I bet everyone's looking at me right now because I'm so pretty" when you're in a room full of strangers or "I got this gig because I'm the best" is when you need to take a few step back and look around for that fine line between confidence and conceit. When you find it, take a sharpie and trace over it a few times to make sure you never cross it again. Again, I've been there. I start letting all of the nice things people say about me affect the way I perceive the world around me. When I reevaluate, it's almost humorous to imagine how stuck up I can be. There are pretty people everywhere. You are not the only one people see everyday and most certainly are not the most gorgeous among them. Someone will always be better at their job than you and people are almost never paying as much attention to you as you might believe. I haven't struggled with those thoughts for a long time now because I made the decision a few years ago to always have my shield ready for when they try and sneak in, but since moving to New York, I've noticed that many amazing young women do not have their own shields at the ready. I'm appalled at the amount of girls who can say out loud "I know I'm gorgeous" or "Guys always want me" without blinking an eye. I applaud that kind of confidence, but am put off by that kind of pride. Every woman should be able to look in the mirror and say "I'm beautiful and I love this skin I'm in," but let's not get crazy here, people.

We are all capable of becoming smug. Intentional or not, superciliousness can destroy friendships, careers, and deeper happiness. No matter what world we live in- the medical world, the entertainment world, the business world, or the pageant world- let's all take time to see the extraordinary work of others around us and not submerge ourselves in the depths of self-satisfaction.

Don't Tell Mama's

The life of a singer is a waiting game. Audition. Wait. Audition. Wait. Wait in line to audition. Audition. Wait. I haven't completely delved into the cycle yet, but auditioning for a job at Don't Tell Mama last night reminded me of the constant patience required. After I performed, the manager told me I did a great job and that they'd be in touch soon. Soon? What's "soon"? Tomorrow? This week? By the end of 2011? This always happens. I never know how long to stay hopeful or how soon to move on. Friends in the NYC audition circuit tell me to always move on immediately, but this is a tad different since it's a long term restaurant job- not a tour or short term gig. I can't help but hope I'll have a way of feeding myself by next week.

Even if nothing transpires, last night was great experience. I had no clue what to expect or if my song choices would fit the bar's usual atmosphere, but I listened to instruction and chose one current hit and one Broadway piece. Unfortunately, I became apprehensive after arriving to find the bartender belting oldies and flashy show tunes. I'd imagined a more understated scene, which is why I went with a softer contemporary Broadway song, "Stars and the Moon," and "Need You Now" by Lady Antebellum. After two seconds of worrying that my song choices didn't have enough flair, I decided it wasn't that big of a deal. People would still enjoy them. Next thought: Will the pianist know them? Of course he would. I'd played it safe. "Stars and the Moon," is relatively famous in musical theatre land, and "Need You Now" was drilled into everyone's head after a million years of being the only song played on the radio, not to mention every pianist and guitarist I know can play it. My safety net deteriorated, however, when I realized that the very talented pianist might not listen to very much modern music. Uh oh.

The place was crowded with Broadway-goers in high, talkative spirits after their evening's show. The manager told the pianist to introduce a guest performer, so I walked to the little stage when my name was announced. I took a deep breath, placed my sheet music on the piano, and looked at Jim and Brittany for support (they gave me wide-eyed smiles to assure me "you can do this!"). We started with "Stars and the Moon" since the pianist did not have any idea what "Need You Now" was. I decided to address that minor problem once I already had one song out of the way. Five seconds into the performance, I realized that I'd have to pretend I was singing a cappella because of the difficulty hearing the piano. I had faith that he was a professional and would follow my lead, even if I couldn't hear what he was doing. And he did. I guess that's why he was hired at the most prestigious piano bar in the Broadway theatre district.

Jim and me in front of "Don't Tell Mama" after I sang

The first song ended without a glitch (well, I messed up the words at one point when I was concentrating on hearing myself over the bustle- but I covered well enough that no one noticed), so I leaned over his shoulder to discuss how to handle "Need You Now." I offered to sing something else, but after a few seconds of flipping through pages and pounding out a couple notes, he insisted I sing what I prepared. Jim's words of wisdom flashed through my head: Just own it, Shannon. I sang it like nothing was out of the ordinary, and the pianist followed right along. Our rendition of the song wasn't necessarily the most polished or accurate, but the pianist (I wish I knew his name!) and I got through it. His lack of knowledge about the song and exceptional talent led to a creative interpretation on his part, which turned out to sound really cool with my traditional melody. Tricky transitions and timing aside, I was really proud that we worked together and didn't fall apart. I can definitely say that was one of my most difficult performances to date, but even so- it wasn't so bad!

This morning, I switched gears and undertook administrative work for an attorney on Wall Street. I've never seen so much paper in my life. The rest of the day has consisted of follow up calls with Stardust (still waiting for an audition...), applying for event promotions, and researching cruise ship auditions. I really think singing on a cruise ship would be ideal for this time in my life. I have no strings attached to anything or anyone- why not gallivant around the world?

Well, I'm off to Jim and Lindsay's to watch another episode of the new Fox show "Revenge!" Linds and I are minorly obsessed...

Singing!

The last time I sang for an audience was in June. JUNE! That was so long ago. I have not stepped foot on a stage since the Miss Virginia Pageant, and even that was opera. Pop is a completely different story. Tonight I'm singing two songs at "Don't Tell Mama," a popular piano bar in Hell's Kitchen. Yesterday, I applied there and at Stardust, two restaurants known for their singing waitstaff. The manager asked me to come back tonight to perform two songs at their open mic night- one current pop hit and one Broadway tune. Singing with a live pianist whom you've never worked with can be a tad disconcerting at times, so I've chosen two songs I know like the back of my hand: "Need You Now" by Lady Antebellum and "Stars and the Moon" from Songs for a New World.

Just knowing I get to use my voice tonight put me in a great mood all day. I energetically made copies of the sheet music, organized my repertoire book, worked hard at the gym, and practiced my song choices. My terrible nerves are beginning to kick in since I leave in about 45 minutes for the venue, though. I've been singing for audiences since I was seven, but I still get sweaty palms and my heart races as a performance approaches. Nightmares about getting a bad case of the hiccups right before a song or forgetting the words haunt me even though I've never had a terrible experience. Hopefully I'll continue my 16 year streak of non-traumatic presentations tonight.

Maybe my performance will lead to a job at Don't Tell Mama, maybe it won't, but I'm still so glad I waltzed in there yesterday without knowing how well known their piano bar is. Had I realized that it was such a distinguished spot, I might have been too intimidated. But look! Now I have an opportunity to sing! I think I caught the manager at a good time because originally they were only interested in hiring a new bartender. Even though I have no experience in that position, she gave it a good, long thought and said "I'd really like to hear you sing. Why don't you come in tomorrow." Immediately, I called Jim, as he was the one who originally told me to apply. He and Lindsay love the place and introduced it to Grandma and me when she visited earlier this month. Over the phone, Jim gave me directions to the nearest store that sold sheet music, where I picked up the piano scores I needed, and promised he'd be there tonight to support me! I'm so glad I'll have him and Brittany to smile at onstage. :)

Although I don't go on at Don't Tell Mama until after 10 p.m., I'm going to attempt to go to bed early enough that I won't be tired tomorrow morning. My former boss, Lynn, recommended me to her attorney since he needs extra help around the office once a week. How nice of her! Thus, tomorrow I'll be filing papers and make copies for some extra cash. Oh, the glitz and glamor of surviving in NYC.

Busch Gardens

Living in the moment is important, but drawing on the past can be just as imperative if you need a reminder that life can be a blast. Today I reflected on my time as a singer at Busch Gardens- probably the best eight months of my life. When I auditioned in January 2009, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. A friend of mine mentioned she might audition, so I showed up on a whim without a headshot or resume. I waited for five hours in their Ireland theatre (Busch Gardens, Williamsburg has a European theme), sang one verse of "I Could Have Danced All Night" from My Fair Lady, answered a few questions, and left. A few months later, I received an offer to join the cast of "San Marco Singers" in Italy. Enthusiastically, I accepted and began at the end of May.

I had no idea what the world of theme park entertainment entailed. Half of me expected to show up and find that I'd be spending my entire summer working with old men who loved to sing opera. Boy, was I wrong. Unbeknownst to me, getting hired at Busch Gardens was an honor that takes some performers multiple years of auditioning to achieve. To this day, I have no idea why I was given such an opportunity, but I'm sure glad I was.

Backstage w/ Michael & Emily; Italy cast at Paul's

The Entertainment Department was full of college students and young adults who were more fun to be around than anyone I'd met before or have met since. My show had eight singers, four men and four women, who became like my brothers and sisters. We performed six days a week, 5-7 shows a day, and spent nearly every waking second together. As you can imagine, we became so comfortable with each other onstage (hundreds and hundreds performances of the same show will do that...) that we played subtle games to spice things up. I remember one time someone came up with the "Hit Michael Show," during which all of us found a moment to somehow slap/punch our friend Michael. He had no clue what was going on, while the rest of us could hardly hold it together as he reacted to each blow. Even when we weren't playing a secret game onstage, hilarious and memorable moments found us. One time Lori's petticoat completely fell off during "Funiculi, Funicula," a song we sang in the audience. Like a deer in headlights, she froze until Emily and I helped reattach her skirt. We were laughing so hard that I think only three of us could continue singing. I'm laughing outloud just thinking about it. Lori also had a habit of sneezing when the sun got in her eyes...again, we rarely were able to suppress our giggles as we watched her nose twitch to keep from letting one out.

Below are two performances of the same song. The first is mid-season. The second is our very last show (when our stage manager gave us pretty much free reign).  You'll see how we progressed (regressed...?). Michael is standing next to me in the first one, when the madness was just beginning. By the last performance, only five of the eight of us were left and our musical director had to step in to make an even six...you can tell she's the one in the middle trying to remember her part, while the rest of us were giving our three hundred and something performance- literally- of the same song. I'd say Jake and I had a good time on the left. I was cracking up when I saw that the second video existed...

Besides the show with the eight of us, Italy had a bigger production called "Festivale Italiano," implemented into the performance schedule about a month into the summer season. This spectacle required the talents of ten dancers, multiple boys on stilts, a lot of musicians, and random Chinese performers who juggled with their throats (no, really) and did tricks with face masks. Essentially, a rainbow threw up on the stage while we ran around singing "That's Amore" and the dancers played with ribbons...it was the perfect theme park show. Participating in such a chaotic display was humorous and an absolute blast. I'm glad I was there in 2009, because by 2010 they toned it down quite a bit, which I'm sure didn't create nearly as many laughs for that season's performers. For the grand finale my year, all of the singers donned gaudy gowns and robes while we sang "Time to Say Goodbye." Although we all looked absolutely outrageous, Michael was stuck with the most outlandish costume: The Bird. Instead of a robe, Michael was given something that resembled a peacock, feathers and wings included. At one point in the song, the singers paired off and walked quickly through the audience right before the big last note. To get on and off the stage, we had to maneuver two sets of stairs in layers upon layers of colorful fabric. Michael and Lori were walking up the stairs right in front of Paul and me when BAAM, The Bird lost flight. Since he had no hands free to catch himself while holding out his fabulous wings, Michael ate it- beak first- when he tripped on the last step. On the last note of the song, only our bass singer, Amon, sang as the rest of us had tears streaming down our faces from laughter. Somehow Amon had missed the fall, so he was granted a solo for our less than impressive final chord.

Finale Costumes for "Festivale Italiano"

Getting ready for bed with "Festivale Italiano" friends

At Paul's with Italy singers

As you can tell from these stories, which don't even begin to cover the amount of hilarious happenings, rarely did we get through a show without wanting to laugh our faces off. Since we had so much fun together at work, we spent almost every evening together, too. After a day in the park, we'd head to Paul's Deli, the favorite hang out in Williamsburg, for drinks and socializing. The bartenders knew each of us by name and granted us special privileges over the William & Mary students in the fall since we practically kept them in business during the slow summer. Paul's became my second home, where I spent an insane amount of time even after I stopped working at Busch. I ended up dating a guy from William & Mary, so we'd go into Paul's and the bouncer and bartenders always looked after me and made sure those college boys were treating me well. I loved it. :)

Above: Cami, me, & Lauren; Below: "Frankenrock"

When my summer in Italy came to a close, I was hired to stay in the park as a singer in the Germany Howl-O-Scream show called "Frankenrock." More like "FrankenPOP," as we liked say. Fun Halloween tunes like "Thriller," "Monster Mash," and "Time Warp" were meshed with random songs like "Livin' La Vida Loca" and, my personal favorite, "Barbie Girl." Yes, that was my big solo and I loved every second of it (see my very first blog post for video). Not only was the show itself incredibly energetic, my character really amusing (I was a "sexy barbie witch" in a lime green pleather mini-dress and matching witch hat), and the dances great workouts, but I was cast with my best friend in the park, Cami. She was in the "Country" show during summer, but we'd become inseparable since I spent almost every night at her house during July and August. I never liked to commute all the way from Virginia Beach, so I crashed on her couch instead. We were thrilled to be in the same show and became very close friends with another one of our castmates, Lauren- who's room I'm now subleasing in New York! Camping trips, sleepovers, and nights at Paul's with my Busch friends made for a perfect start to my senior year of college. Even though I was still a full time student in Newport News, I worked full time and spent most of my time 30 minutes away in Williamsburg. I loved my school, but I don't regret not being there often that semester in light of the amount of fun I had with fellow performers.

Cami and me on Halloween

One of my best guy friends in the world (a drummer at Busch), Smithers, and me on the camping trip

The year came to a close right back where I started: in the Ireland theatre for the Christmas Town show, "Rejoice." During the last show, every one of us was in tears as we took our bow. I remember the sadness I felt in that moment, knowing that I could never relive all of the wonderful time I spent in those eight months at Busch Gardens. I'd never been more excited to wake up every day to go sing in front of thousands of people, spend time with the greatest friends I'd ever known, and laugh my way through it all. Words can't express how happy I was during that time in my life. My Busch friends are now scattered throughout the world on cruise ships, in Disney theme parks (even in Korea!), bands, and regional theatres. I don't know if they'll ever understand how much they mean to me, but I know for certain that we became a family that still loves each other and can pick up exactly where we left off. I learned so much about myself and changed accordingly that summer, and they loved me through it all. I can only hope that I'll someday find as much excitement and joy in each and every day as I did during my time at Busch Gardens.

Above: "Rejoice"; Below: Christmas Eve with cast members

 

Adam, from the summer cast, visiting during Christmas

My friends from Busch Gardens and I continued to hang out long after the 2009 season ended, as you can see from the photos below. I stay in touch with most of them and make an effort to visit the ones who still work at Busch Gardens!

Teach for America Benefit

At times, a new dress is all it takes to lift your spirits. Maybe not if you're male, but you get the gist. Last week, my friend Mike bought me a ticket to the Teach for America Fall Fling in lower Manhattan. The event was Thursday, and I had nothing to wear. Most of my cocktail dresses are too fancy (from pageant world) or too casual (from Virginia Beach world). Anything possible to makeshift into the appropriate attire was a little too tight now...darn it New York stress eating! Don't get me wrong, I'm certainly not overweight, but a tight black miniskirt just won't cut it these days. I spent the first half of the week telling myself that it would be okay to show up in something I didn't feel great in, but as the evening approached, I knew I'd have far more fun if I felt confident...especially since I wouldn't really know anyone there. Mike was helping to host the event so he would have no time to entertain me, and it's not like I'm tied into the young professionals world where I'd bump into someone familiar. Knowing I'd be fending for myself was intimidating in its own right; no need to add fuel to the fire by feeling insecure about my outfit.

The issue with buying a new dress is that you have to, well, buy it. With money. I don't have much of that stuff. This is where my new favorite person of New York came into play: my runner at work, Thomas. Thomas is the one who made these few weeks at the Sicilian restaurant more enjoyable. He always encouraged me and pointed me in the right direction, all the while cracking me up with his strong Spanish accent (he moved here from Mexico ten years ago) and only halfway understandable jokes. I've never met such a hard worker- he works two jobs and puts in 80-90 hours a week! I told him about the Teach for America benefit and my dilemma with having nothing to wear, so he whipped out two discount cards to Express and said, "Go buy yourself a dress and be beautiful!" I wish I could somehow type with a Spanish accent. Those words sounded even more adorable. He pointed me to the nearest store after work, where I bought a brand new dress for 60% off! He's my little New York angel. I'll have to email my grandma about him so she can include him in her book "Angels of New York," a compilation of stories involving all of the people who helped her during her visit. She joked that the trick to finding them was to look like a helpless little old lady...hilarious. Too bad she's not actually writing it. I think it'd be an awesome book. There are so many unassuming gems amidst the bustling crowds.

Heading out! Brit had her iPhone ready for a photo op...

Feeling great in my new dress and Brit's velvet blazer, I headed to the benefit. As I was registering and receiving my open bar bracelet (score!), I heard a familiar voice- Justin! My brother's close friend who used to live with Jim and Jacob (still lives with Jacob, actually) had walked in right before me. Mike and him grew up together in San Diego, so I guess it made sense that he was there. He was remarkably sweet, introducing me to all of his friends and colleagues and even lending me his arm (which came in handy when I slipped while walking into the main room...totally normal). I've spent a lot of time with Justin before, but he was more outgoing and gentlemanly than I've ever seen him. His friends were also great to hang out with and most of them knew or had heard of my brother, which made for easy conversation. The venue was gorgeous and the environment was just what I needed: a lot of hot, successful guys in suits- my favorite- and girls who were really intelligent and welcoming. I wish I was the kind of girl who could approach a guy, because I wanted to chat with so many of them...but oh well, I didn't meet the love of my life. Someday I'll be that smooth, nonchalant woman who can seamlessly start conversation with a mysterious tall, dark and handsome bachelor. But for now, I'm still awkward Shannon.

Thursday's big night out was perfectly succeeded by a movie night in with Meg (from dog sledding) last night. I heard about exciting news in her love life, she listened to the exact opposite regarding my love life, and we watched "Jane Eyre." Red wine, girl talk, and chick flicks? We all know that's my favorite! I had such a relaxing time that we're having a repeat tonight. The best way to avoid spending money is to make plans for lots of movie nights. Or go on lots of first dates....but I prefer the former.

In other news, I quit my waitressing job. I understand that work won't always be pleasant, but I needed a younger, peppier environment. Back to the grind of finding a job. Just keep swimming, just keep swimming...

Dori, from finding Nemo, is my favorite cartoon character ever...a lot of my friends have even pointed out our similarities. I'm not sure what to make of that, but I subsequently named my fish from PSYC 401 Lab senior year "Dorian" in her honor (my fish was a dude). Dori's famous tune of "just keep swimming" somehow never leaves my head as I deal with the constant struggles in NYC. Go figure- a cartoon fish with short term memory is my source of inspiration...

Frustration

Why can't anything in NYC go well? So far, I feel liked I've accomplished little more than watching my savings slowly decline as I attempt to find a job that supports me. I've worked at two places in two months, neither of which has brought any satisfaction to my life (or adequate dough). I am continuing to look for alternative employment opportunities while staying at my new restaurant, but my current day-to-day life is down right depressing. I've been trying to keep a positive attitude, but two weeks into the new job and I'm still a nervous wreck half the time. I leave close to tears after almost every shift. That is not how I plan on spending many more of my days. Life is too short.

Frustration is such an awful feeling. Frustration with my job, frustration with not knowing what I'm going to do the rest of my life, frustration with my social life, frustration with my love life, frustration with myself, etc. It's a growing epidemic. On top of it, I feel guilty for being so frustrated with life because I feel like everything's in my control. Get a new job, find more energy to go out and meet people, go to the gym, become more exciting, and take ownership for your own happiness, Shannon! The thing is, I honestly feel like I'm trying to no avail. There's always more I can do, but I'm tired. I'm tired of not having a steady job. I'm tired of going out and not meeting anyone, or meeting people that live far away from Brooklyn. I'm tired of not feeling worthy of a real relationship. I'm just tired. I understand that "all good things take time," as Jacob (Jim's best friend) reminded me yesterday, but can't just one aspect of my life fall into place? Just one?

Complaining about my life seems selfish and out-of-touch, I know, since I have a loving family, supportive old friends (albeit not close by), a healthy body, an education, and no debt. And I have some really great moments here and there. Life could be much, much worse. Still, that doesn't mean that everything's always easy. As a matter of fact, nothing's easy at the moment. I'm beginning to realize that wishing I wasn't going through such a rough period in my life doesn't mean I'm ungrateful for the good things I have. A rough period is a rough period, no matter who you are. Life isn't always breezy and there's no need to feel guilty when it's not. Wallowing in self-pity is one thing, but actively trying to get out of a rut and continually running into obstacles is another.

Tonight, I'm going to my one place of refuge in New York: Jim and Lindsay's. They know that their apartment has become my favorite spot and welcome me as often as I wish. Whether we're eating around the dinner table with a group of friends, like last Saturday (sooooo much fun!), or Lindsay and I are just watching a T.V. show together, like tonight, I'm in a much happier mood. Thank goodness I have family nearby, or else I'm not sure how much longer I'd last!

With Jim and Lindsay the night after their engagement