Orientation

June 17th is finally here and here I am beyond it.

He that getteth wisdom loveth his own soul, He that Keepeth Understanding Shall Find Good. 

(Baruch College)

Today I attended orientation for the New York City Teaching Fellowship Cohort 24. It was very inspiring. They started out with a young mens' "step" group from one of the high schools which was extremely powerful and masculine. They talked about how rough the ride is going to be, but I kept hearing the word "impact." They assure me I will make an impact. I hope so.

 I've been saying that a lot, "I hope so." It's my faithful phrase. I have hope.

One current teacher made a great speech that included encouraging us against thinking that "you either have it or you don't." That one stuck with me more than most others. You work to have it. You don't just have it. Teaching is not magic, but hard work.

They also said that the fellowship is harder to get into than NYU. I liked that one because NYU rejected me...a long time ago.


I'm scared. I have hope.

Tomorrow is my first day. I am expected in Queens at 8:30 am. I haven't seen 8:30 am since October. It's going to be difficult. I am going to be tired. Waiting tables, I am used to going to bed at 2am and waking up whenever I want. Sometimes 9:30, sometimes noon. Noon never feels as good as you think it does.

So I am getting up at 6. Leaving my house at 7:30 am to take the F train from 63rd street and Lexington (btw the other school they could have sent me is on 68th and Lexington. I am choosing to ignore this painful fact) and enduring a 56 minute commute to Queens.

I Once Was Lost

It's been awhile.

When I was young I would stop writing in my journal because some time had passed and I didn't want to have to do a big old "... Last Time in the LIFE OF EMMA..." and I don't really want to do that here because it will go unnoticed in the wash of archives. Plus this is mostly for me, and maybe I want it to be more professional. Not sure.

Obviously. I am becoming a teacher. On my thirtieth birthday, I was accepted into the New York City Teaching Fellowship for special education. I am a member of "Cohort 24" which sounds very intense, or communist. Comrade 24? Maybe it sounds like jail.

I have been waiting tables for the past forever years. Supposedly everyone in this program graduated from Harvard. How I slipped through I am not sure I will ever know.

Feel free to mourn for the loss of my desire to pursue acting in New York. I am not sure I feel like explaining that right now. It will all come out, or not. Maybe I can't explain...

So today is the NEW FELLOWS ORIENTATION!!! I have completed countless online classes, quit my job, freaked out about health insurance, gotten excited, gotten upset, decided this was my chosen path by God, decided I was making a huge mistake and today I am putting on a skirt and heading into the abyss. A new life. A big fat new start.

Maybe I'll document it. Maybe I'll get lost again. But for today I wanted to show up and say I'm alive and I am trying this new thing and if anyone wants to wish me luck that would be amazing because pretty sure no one reads this blog anymore and if they do they've been sorely disappointed for the past three years.

Hello again.

The Strawhat Auditions

Failure number one.

The strawhat auditions are somewhat difficult to get accepted into. I know they personally didnt allow one of my best actor friends to attend. I was so excited to get accepted in November. A mass audition for a huge group of regional theatres ready to cast their summer stock! Something very prestigious? Something where a good job could be had for the taking.

Nope.

This was a mass audition so theatres could cast decent actors in their internship programs, make them pay almost $1,000 and have them move chairs all summer.

There were college musical theatre students EVERYWHERE. Warming up, hugging each other. Singing their Rents and their Wickeds and calling their moms talking about callbacks in the hallway.

They are in shape. I am not. This is something I very painfully came to terms with yesterday.

Not to mention all the good theatres left before monday.

Not that I felt great about my audition.

Shit.

Also I pretty much stopped running. I could blame the snow or too much work, but Ive stopped. I can feel it.

Crap.

The Strawhat Callback Wall 1pm
My name is on one of these.

One.

Check in.

The Empire State Building from the Empire State Building.
Would love to expand on this day. It was lovely. Too bad.

Still not sure where this blog is going; whether I should be more anonymous or what. I mean, I still live with my ex-boyfriend, have to keep a lot of secrets because of that. I would love to go into detail about my new escapades, and by escapades I use the root ESCAPE literally. Whatever that means.

Running has been difficult as I have had to put in almost sixty hour at my job to make ends meet, and guess what! They still aren't meeting. They should make a dating service for single ends to meet up at coffee shops. EndsMeet.com. Sometimes I hate myself.

I have a nice big juicy audition on Monday. Ninety seconds. Two contrasting monologues. I have decided to do very well. This is what I am working on today.

The alcoholic subway number asker guy didn't call me. Bastard. Maaaybe it's for the best. He was too young for me anyway. Ha.

Big storm on it's way in tonight. One of the cool things about living in New York City is that the weather is a real topic of conversation. It's this enormous thing that drastically affects all of our lives, and in discussing it, we feel a sense of community. The word on the street and in the news today is, "Yeah we missed it last time (meaning the little storm with the big hype that fell all over D.C. and barely flirted with New York City) but we wont be so lucky tonight." It makes me want to wax poetic on how storms are like relationships, you miss one...etc. Maybe storms and cities and ends should all find a dating service...

Can you tell that I am well aware Valentine's Day is Sunday?

Dear Subway Diary,

I met a man on the subway.

Ok, well not actually ON the subway but outside of the 53rd and Lex stop. I was going home from acting class at the Neighborhood Playhouse (yay me) and a young man in a thick Brooklyn accent asks me how to get to the F. I begin to stammer that you can't get to the F at this station, and you'll have to take the E or V but they aren't running and if I was coherent, which I rarely am, I would have gone on to tell him to take the 6 downtown to Bleecker and there you are. But I was also thinking in my neurotic (which only really means I'm muddled up, thinking from all angles) brain, that I may give this guy directions and then we'll end up on the same train, and it will be awkward, plus he was kind of cute so, "Why dont you just come with me?" blurts out of my mouth.

So great. So much for my book, or listening to music or whatever I was going to do.

But then he turned out to be so interesting. He was really intelligent, honest and forthcoming about himself. We had an enjoyable conversation the entire ride, and that includes the transfer. A couple of times, I stepped outside myself and looked in from the outside and realized how far my life has taken me in six months.

Emma is on a train talking to a Brooklyn boy about life.

Yes. He asked for my number. Right after 15th St Station in Brooklyn. He knew mine was the next stop. He was getting off at Avenue I where I once woke up after having missed Fort Hamilton. One brilliant topic of conversation. I left out that it was three am and I drunk. He also went to rehab in Los Angeles. He has emotional ties there. I get that.

So I gave him my number.

Doubt it will go anywhere. The whole "rehab" thing and I'm really into wine. Also he's Jewish, so he told me, Brooklyn Jewish, and I'm definitely not. Kinda the end right there. But oh well. This is New York and who cares?

I had my first subway romance.

I fucking love this town.

Where do we go from here?

I guess I am new to blogging.

I recently joined this cool website and am reading all these amazing blogs. I mean, these people really know how to WRITE. These writers have all these beautiful nuances, and funny quips in their writing that I simply don't know how to do.

Why am I always discouraged by the successes of others? lame.

Beyond that, they seem to have a lot of anonymity going on. That would probably help me. Or I could start over and talk about all of the real feelings and nutcase escapades I am embarking on.

Facebook is the main problem. Or maybe Ill start over.

But I dont WANT to start over. This is a STORY.

But I want to talk about my breakup and other wanton adventures.

But that wont be good for anyone involved but me.

oh yeah.

Maybe time to start over?

Or maybe start a writing journal?

Maybe make new friends who you can TALK to?

Or maybe who the hell cares?

Maybe I'll just un-post my blog from facebook.

P.S. Hit 60 miles today. Booyah.

My own empty subway car. I swung around all the poles and felt very free.

8.49 Minute Miles

So this is what getting in shape feels like.

I was running today and feeling really weighted and tired. I marvelled at how hard it was.

I don't really try to push myself. If I see a girl my age running ahead of me, I definitely try and pass her, but I'm not really trying to get a fast time. I'm just a little competitive. Plus the girl today had a beautiful long ponytail. I wasn't standing for that.

Then I listened to my iMapMyRun app and at four miles it said, in the sultry, disjointed female voice, "34 minutes." That's almost a minute faster than my usual time. So I pushed a little harder and hit 44 minutes for my five mile. That's 8 and a half minute miles on average for five miles. Didn't think I could do that.

Maybe this is about proving myself to myself.

In other news, I met with a teacher at the Neighborhood Playhouse yesterday. The Neighborhood Playhouse. It was kind of freaky to be there, after seeing the Meisner documentary about a million times and taking class at Playhouse West for two years. Pretty freaking cool.

I'm starting class on Thursday if I can get my schedule worked out. Maybe I'll reward myself with a trip to Target.

Or maybe Ill just save up my rewards for a couple weeks from now.