My Sandy (and Windy) Adventures

On Sunday evening, my venue of work, Harney & Sons, shut its doors at 5pm instead of the usual 7pm, in accordance with the early closing of the subways due to an impending visit from Hurricane Irene's big sis, Sandy. Instead of making my way back home to New Jersey, I walked just a few blocks to the Chinatown apartment of some friends whose cat I am taking care of for the week. Sandy, who had not yet made her appearance, was already proving to be a nuisance. I had planned to go home on Monday to pick up some clothes for the week, and now that the subways were closed, my plan had turned to dust (sand?). Not sure when I'd have a chance to get back home, I thought that I'd just have to wait until Tuesday to go shopping.

When I awoke on Monday to a little bit of drizzle, I was dismayed that everything was shut down, because I would have seized the opportunity to buy a couple of clean items of clothing. Let's just say, in light of what happened in the next 24 hours, I am lucky that I am a neurotic Jew who packed 4 pairs of underwear for what I thought would only be a couple of nights before I could get home to pick up more clean underwear.
After an uneventful Monday (when I actually got all caught up on emails and such, by being house-bound), Sandy showed up that evening. The blackout came at around 9pm. It still didn't occur to me that the power outage would last beyond a day. My electronics were charged up, candles were lit, and my book about reincarnation was entirely appropriate. I read by candlelight, having fun with the whole romantic aspect of an otherwise dreary situation. And, at least the kitty was still sane, if not a little anxious and confused.

My romantic inclinations ended on Tuesday morning when I woke up to find that I had no phone service or wifi service. Oh. Okay. Well, no biggie, I could deal with a day of nowt. I thought it might be an adventure to see what was happening in the aftermath of Sandy (whose visit I kind of just slept through), so I headed outside to scope things out. Absolutely everything was shut down. Okay. There went my (entirely imbecilic) idea of relying on restaurant food post-Sandy. I had boiled 4 eggs the night before, so I had some protein, and there was some fruit in the apartment, and cereal. Hmmmm. That would be sufficient for me, but I wondered if I could possibly find something a little more exciting. There was one grocery shop open, and though I really didn't need anything, I joined the line to get inside just to, you know, get the full 4D experience of the day after tomorrow. I bought a can of Cola. As I walked the streets, I saw a lone vendor selling wontons. Hmmmm. If I didn't find anything else, I'd go back for some. Trust a foodie to be picky about food under such circumstances. I DID find something else. A Halal cart! Yup, there it was, a miracle within the rain and the bleak and palid streets! You don't have to convince me to eat street meat, even when it's not post-hurricane, so I got on line for some hot food. I must have waited a good hour. Well, not like I had anything else to do that day. I got my street meat, and passed by the wonton stall again. 4 wontons for $1. Okay! I got 8 (lukewarm) wontons. For the rest of the day, I read, and when it got too dark to read, I worked on my laptop until it was almost out of juice. Oh dear. By the night time, I was lonely and anxious that I wasn't able to receive calls and/or texts. I knew my parents wouldn't worry, that they'd assume that I would be okay, but it would have been nice to send them an assuring email (they live in Spain). I went to sleep at 9:30pm, slightly perturbed, and wondering how long this lack of contact to the outside world would last. I had spent the day with no electricity, no heat, no hot water, no phone service, no wifi service, no real food, and one book. A repeat might have driven me more insane than I already am.

I awoke at 3:30am and turned on my phone to see if there was progress in cell service. I had received a text! Another miracle! One of my friends who lives in midtown had graciously offered use of his apartment, should I need it. By this point, I hadn't eaten a proper meal since Sunday, hadn't showered since Monday afternoon, and both my phone and laptop were about to die. I text him immediately, saying, "I'm coming over. Text me when you wake up."

On Wednesday morning, I packed my bags with my dirty laundry and laptop and headed to Midtown. On foot. That's like, over 50 blocks. On my way to my friend's house, I passed a hotel which had generously set up a phone/laptop charging point. What a relief! There were people huddled about, and though everyone was desperate to re-charge (we're New Yorkers; if we can't access email in 10 minutes, we start sweating), everyone remained calm and patient, and waited for an outlet to become free. People were in good spirits, despite the situation, and my heart was filled with the kindness and generosity of strangers. Strangers helping each other; it exists and it is amazing.

I spent the rest of the day hanging out with Seth, and letting people know that I was okay. I did laundry, drank tea, ate hot food, and took a hot shower, all of which felt novel. Feeling human again at 9:30pm, I headed back to Chinatown. It's a little unnerving to be a pedestrian at night in a city where there is no light, and cars are driving without the aid of traffic lights. Though the streets were not entirely deserted, it was almost pitch black, and I kept thinking, "I could totally get raped, and no one would know because it's too dark to see a thing." Oy. I made it back home without being touched, thank goodness.

Thursday and today have been spent walking into Midtown and spending the day hanging out at people's houses whose power hasn't been effected (lucky buggers). I even managed to get to ballet class yesterday. Gotta work off that street meat! As work has not been open since Sunday due to the lack of power, I have the exciting task of going in to empty out the fridges of the rotting perishables. Can't wait!

I received word this morning from my flat mate that the power and internet at home in New Jersey are back on, hallelujah! But the kitty needs me until his parents get home on Sunday, so I'm racking up karma points by taking care of him. He's a fickle one, too. Just like every man I've dated. He loves me one minute and can't stand me, the next. And yet, I walk 3 hours a day to make sure that he is fed and taken care of. And that, my friends, is the way a loyal Libra shows her unconditional love in the aftermath of Sandy's hectic visit. Stay warm and safe, New York City.

Oh, one more thing. I am sure that the men and women at the power companies are working tirelessly to bring us back to normality. We can place blame all we want, but the fact is, we had a natural disaster, or, as the Brits say, "an act of God." It is not easy to prepare for Mother Nature's unpredictable wrath. People are doing the best they can. I'm just glad I'm still here. It'll take more than a hurricane to blow me away!

Contradictions In a Woman Who Wants It All

I have not written a blog entry in a really long time. I have not written a blog entry about my dating escapades in an even longer time. So, here it is, 2-in-1; 2 for the price of 1; killing two birds with one stone. Et cetera, etceteros, and so forth.

I met a man recently whom I was really into. Like, superly duperly into. I believed that he was superly duperly into me. Turns out, after about a month, that he was superly duperly NOT into me. Ah, therein lay a big rub. Being a woman of utmost humility and modesty, I spent a couple of days trying to come up with a rational answer of HOW this guy could NOT be into me. I mean, he laid eyes on me, Asian cheekbones and all; he had been privy to my dazzling intellect and humour during our lengthy conversations; he even had the pleasure of watching me eat tripe and intestines in a Vietnamese restaurant, once. So, HOW, after all these exhibitions of my fabulousness, could he NOT be into me??? Folks, there is no rational answer. Love and lust are not rational, and the practical side of my brain was left confused, while the more emotional other side was left (completely) disappointed.

I sulked for a couple of days. And when I mean sulk, I mean that I, like a child, behaved as if the world is an unfair and unjust place, because if a woman such as myself, who is a great catch, has not been caught and is now THIRTY YEARS OLD…well…OBVIOUSLY there is just something wrong with the world. How dare it treat me in this unfair manner. You’ll be rolling your eyes by this point and be relieved to hear that I then got the fuck over myself.

How exactly does a tiny Chinese-Jew who is focused on, Mission: Get on Broadway, get the fuck over herself? She grounds herself back into what is real and who she truly is. This is what is real: I moved to NYC in 2009 with one goal -- to sing, dance, and act on the Broadway stage. I am not more myself than when I am alone in my apartment belting out musical theatre showtunes. I do not feel a more familiar surrounding than the backstage of a theatre or inside the ballet studio. No matter how sad, overwhelmed, anxious, or stressed I can be, I walk into a ballet studio, take my place at the barre, and feel safe and in control. Then I take ballet class where the feelings of turning out and pointing my feet and physically responding to the music are as familiar to me as walking and writing. So, after being rejected and sulking, I worked on some audition material and went to ballet class and sang and danced my sadness away (almost).

I want to fall in love. I really, really do. But, I always ask myself the question: if I had to choose between love and being onstage, what would I choose? I have never been able to make a choice. I really don’t know how to make that choice. I really don’t want to. However, it constantly feels as if the Powers That Be are forcing me to choose. When I’m dating and excited about someone, they pull me back and ask me, “why are you wasting time on this frivolity when you should be concentrating on your career?” When I AM concentrating on my career, I leave no place in my soul whatsoever for any man to chisel his way in. Which is a shame, because I really do feel like I deserve to be in love and be on Broadway AT THE SAME TIME.

Now, with a closed heart and no distractions, I plough ever forward, with a couple of major auditions coming up that I am ready to take by the horns. I cannot control love, or when I will fall into it. I cannot control outside factors in a casting process that will either make the job mine or mine for the losing. What I CAN control is who I am as an artist, and shall continue to do just that. My journeys to Broadway and True Love are very rarely easy, smooth, or simple, and constantly filled with rejection. But, boy, I must be crazy, because I am having so much fun!