Fireflies and Freedom

So, I'm watching episodes of "Firefly." Yes, I am a nerd, just like every other nerd who realizes the brilliance of Joss Whedon. The episode I happen to be watching is this one where the ship's engine malfunctions and there is no power to the ship. The crew thus needs to flee in order to survive. Everyone, that is except the captain, who wants to go down with the ship. Horribly poetic if you ask me.

So while he is trying to reach some other ship out in space to hopefully acquire some help, the captain remembers how each of his crew comes to join the venture. Through out this we see how truly attached he is to his crew. He gets the part but gets shot in the process, demise is before him. In turn, when the crew returns and ends up saving him, we see how truly attached they are to him.

The last shot of the show says it all though. It flashes back to the captain first purchasing his ship. The used ship salesman is trying to sell him on another ship, but nothing to it. Mal sets eyes on his ship and he knows the sky's his limit. The look on his face was that of complete bliss, complete freedom. It gave me the kind of feeling I felt when I was first moving to NYC.

Hair Dare

The wonderful think about New York is that you can find almost anything for free. Most recently I took advantage of a salon training night to get a free hair cut. Here is the account of my experience:


I walk into the studio... salon... classroom? I check in and they tell me to sit down. I pull out a book to read, as they mentioned it would be a little while for them to get settled. I am distracted by a woman across from me. She was heavy set, had a wide frog like face, and shoulder length combed over hair. She looked like a cross between Mary and Professor Umbridge, she had the temper of both as well. She was there for a free hair cut like I was and she was getting all up in arms when they couldn't accommodate her immediately. Its a free service, lady, get a life and stop complaining.

Anyways, I finally get called for my hair cut. Woo hoo. Unfortunately my student didn't quite comprehend what she was getting herself into. You see I straightened my hair and my hair is normally curly. Other than the fact that she was a little timid and slightly afraid of the power she herself had with the scissors in hand, she preformed well.

All in all, I would say i made out on this deal. Free hair cut in exchange for letting them practice with my wonderful hair... I let them chop so much off. The instructor loved my hair so much she asked me to come back as a color model!

I love my hair.

Answer in the Form of a Question?

One last hurrah before I give up alcohol for lent. Yes, I am going for the gold and giving up alcohol in effort to attack the New York social scene as me, without the influence of alcohol. So as a last hurrah, I went out with a couple of friends from production- Amy, Wendy and Emily.


We went to this bar in the west village and spent most of the time catching up as none of us had worked together since July. Sadness. I love these girls but at the same time I like what I have been up to. We get to catching up on everything and I go on a rant about all my guy problems as of late, I mean honestly why can't I just meet a guy who is cute, nice, funny, adventurous, smart and just up for something fun.

They deliberated a moment, then Wendy says they have a guy they want me to meet. I say okay and we leave it at that for the time (I'll reference back to this later).

So anyways, as it turns out, there is trivia at this bar and I decide it would be fun for us to play. I go up to register us and use the first name I can think of, "after party babies." Don't ask, you don't want to know.

Trivia commences. We have a blast, most of our answers are a little off due to one thing or another. Oh well, its still fun. We learn that the 4 or us know way too much random information and that we should find lives outside this world of useless knowledge. Yay trivia, we should play this again.

Friday the 13th and Other Such Happenstances

As I am currently between jobs and attempting to side step a possible stage five clinger, what better way to spend Valentine's Day than with my college roommates in DC (rather Alexandria). I made plans with my friends, booked my bus ticket and all was good to go. It never seems to matter what method I choose to travel, I am always a tad apprehensive as a traveler. In any event, I always seem to have interesting experiences. I would be traveling on Friday the 13th, it is guaranteed to be an eventful trip.

I woke up at 6am on Friday the 13th. I'm not entirely sure if my body is preprogrammed to maximize my Friday the 13th time or if I just so happened to wake up early, but at 7am when I couldn't fall back asleep I gave in and got up. I proved to be incredibly productive with my additional time, but I could have used the extra sleep.

Now earlier this week I sent out my resume and cover letter to various production companies in the New York area. To my surprise, I received a response from one. They want to meet with me next Thursday. They want to meet with ME next Thursday. If there is one person out there noticing me, there is bound to be more. I make the appointment and set off for my trip.

I arrive a half hour early for a 3:30 departure time, unfortunately I must have missed the memo because our bus arrived a half hour late. We were on the road by 4:15, but still, Kirsten warned me the trains stopped working properly in DC at 10pm. If traffic was bad, I could get caught in that mess.

The trip proceeds smoothly. That is until we make our first pit stop. The bus driver stands up and very rudely explains to us for a good 5 minutes that we have a 15 minute break. He talks to us, with his poor enunciation, as if we are children and unable to understand the concept of time. Believe me hun, I wouldn't spend more than 15 minutes at a rest stop on the jersey turnpike if I had to.

We are back on the road and I continue to alternate between reading and napping. Surprisingly reading wins out despite the fact that I have been up since 6am. As we get closer to DC we make a stop in Baltimore. It was an unexpected stop that the idiot driver turned into a 45 minute detour between waiting a half hour to fill two seats on the bus and stopping to ask for directions back to the interstate. Dude, I have never had this trouble with a chinatown bus... what the hell is going on here.

We land in DC around 9:20. that was a 5 and a half hour trip... that should have been 4 hours. I call Kirsten and Annie to let them know what was going on, but that I should be fine as far as the train goes. We arrange to meet up on King Street in Alexandria (I haven't been there since Poppop's funeral). I buy my ticket, find my train and get on to the platform by 9:30. I am in the clear.'

15 minutes go by and only one train has, one train that was not the one I needed. I look around the half empty platform and notice a gentleman standing near me. He looks like your typical film noir detective: white button up shirt, black pants, long trench coat, shiny shoes, and a fedora. I ask him if he knows whether or not the Yellow Line has stopped running for the night. He says he hopes not as he has to take it to get home. Apparently the Yellow line sometimes does not show up on the arrival board. We make small talk, I mention I'm from NYC and haven't been to DC in about 5 years. We find we are headed to the same stop, small world.

8 more minutes go by and still no train. He checks his phone and our route cannot be planned. Great, so we both missed the memo that told us the Yellow Line would be out of commission. He tells me he is taking a cab to Alexandria and offers to split it with me. Before I have a chance to hesitate, he says not to worry that hes a cop. Unless I have a problem with cops, then I'm out of luck. So he really is a film noir detective... stuck in a 2009 world. I concede and we introduce ourselves to each other. His name is Tyler. He thinks my name is pretty.

(Yes I might sound like a school girl with a crush... that's cause I am)

I call Kirsten and let her know whats up. Tyler and I grab a cab and are on our way. He calls his girlfriend, or wife, to let her know why hes running late.

We talk the entire trip to King's Street. Its not just small talk, once we got past the who we are and what we are doing in DC the conversation evolved into one that utilized our mutual skill in observation of others. Alas, we arrived at King's Street far too soon. We parted ways and got on with our weekends. He left me with payment for the cab and a crush on a cute, intelligent guy that I just don't seem to be able to find in New York.

When it comes down to it, I don't think Friday the 13th is about good or bad luck as so many people assume it to be. I thinks its a day of serendipitous happenstances thrown at you by the universe. An unexpected twist of fate that is neither good nor bad but rather determined so by the way in which you react and accept your fate.

Paddling Down the River

As a young girl I had always dreamed of finding my Prince Charming, who sweeps me off my feet and with whom I can live happily ever after. (How many of my posts have started like this... probably quite a few) I am finding, though, as I date more and more, I am no closer to finding my prince charming than I was when I was 6 years old. Maybe I'm not trying hard enough, maybe I am not cut out for a relationship, maybe all the boys in this city are duds, and maybe it's just not my time yet.

Most recently I have gone on a couple dates with a friend of a friend. Really nice guy, met him one night when we were all out. He seemed nice enough, I gave him my number and the very next day he called me. Truth be told I'm not used to this, but I rolled with it because it was unfamiliar territory. I am after all always up for an adventure.

The only problem presented is that even before our first date, he was either calling or texting every single day. I really wanted to say to him, "Look Hun, I don't even talk to my best friends every day, let alone someone I hardly know." I was polite and did not. He lived in Jersey and I in Brooklyn, there was hardly a chance I would see him every day. I continued to roll with it.

Our first date we met on neutral territory, Manhattan. Twas a little awkward, but perhaps he was just nervous. Despite the lackluster first date, I was willing to give him a second chance. The calls and texts kept on though, I might say I had plans on a particular night and he would still check in to see what I was up to. I ignored them and wanted to shake him and say, "Look, I have a life outside of you. No offense, but just because we went out on one date does not mean we are dating."

I did not. I had already gently coached him away from saying things like "baby" or "my girl," I can give this over zealous guy a second chance.

Second date I suggested Manhattan as it would be easier for him to drive to. He insisted Williamsburg. That is the point I began to freak out. Williamsburg is my territory, when I have dated before Manhattan is the neutral ground... no one wants to come out to Brooklyn... Brooklyn is reserved for more intimate relationships once I get to know a person better. It is my ground, my territory, and frankly I don't want people trying to invade my world. I mean its my kingdom so to speak, I even have a moat.... more like the east river, but still it serves as a barrier between me and the comfort zone that is the city.

What's wrong with this picture? I am looking it as an invasion, not a date. Who views dates as an invasion? Clearly only someone who is going on a date with the wrong person. I shouldn't feel threatened, or suffocated, or inhibited. I should be excited and giddy. Alas I was not.

I sat on the phone with one of my friends for a half hour ranting to her, as she has to me many times before. She said to me (stolen from Gilmore Girls), "Maura, you are a Kayak."

"What?" I asked.

"You are a Kayak, a relationship is a canoe. A canoe requires two oars and two people to navigate it. A kayak has only one navigator and one two-sided oar. You are a Kayak, you are independent."

In the words of Loralie Gilmore, "I am kayak, hear me roar."

I survived the date, but I will probably not be seeing this guy again.

Maybe one day I will transition into a nice canoe, more likely a second Kayak to travel with me. Unfortunately for this guy though, it looks like hes looking to share a canoe, and I'm not ready to turn in my Kayak yet. As for my future Prince Charming, well hes going to have his work cut out for him. He better start looking into acquiring a second noble stallion as I am not the type of Princess who will settle for sharing a steed

Trip Down Memory Lane

Do you ever have those moments where you realize that as you continued to grow up, the world where you grew up stood still? I often wonder what might have transpired had I stayed in Virginia. Then again, I don't really.

I will occasionally take a gander at high school friends on facebook. Every time I read of a new couple who are now engaged, who either knew each other in high school or dated in high school. It wasn't until this that I realized just how small town Virginia Beach really is. People grow up in VB, leave to go to school, and come back to settle down. Its like the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, people venture out far enough to say they saw the world and then come back.

Then, once they get back, they hang out with the same people they did in high school. I only still talk to a handful of people from then. The ones I still talk to are the ones I've known forever. Would I be stuck in that same rut or rather situation had I stayed in Virginia? I've always been the one who met people out of school and outside the normal cliques. Its no wonder Virginia never suited me, I might be a tiny person but Virginia Beach was just too small for me.

I have been trying to get out of VB since the moment I arrived there. Now granted, it was a nice place to grow up. There was far more to do than other towns. The only times I was ever really bored was during that peculiar stage where you're too grown up to be content staying at home but not grown up enough to venture out by yourself. I wanted more, I have always wanted more and I think the vastness of the ocean I grew up near taught me that there was a whole world out there for me... and I was going to see as much of it as I could.

After following up with old friends, I realize I am living one of the more interesting lives, by my standards anyways. I have ventured out there, seen the world, paved my own path and am successfully living in the city I want to working in the industry of my choice. Despite the fact that I have bouts of unemployment, I am doing what I have always said I was going to do.

What happened to the dreams of our childhood days? Few from my childhood are living out theirs, but so many more have traded their frivolous dreams for job security and a spouse in a quiet beach town. Why is mine so much more interesting? I made it so. I have taken risks, I have remained optimistic through both good and hard times, I have risked it all for a nothing chance... all because I know I'm going to make it out there. I might have to make it up as I go, but I'm going to make it because I will it so.

From Beginning to End

In as far as I can tell, life is in part made up of beginnings, part in endings and part of getting from the beginning to the end. I could speak of many of these in many areas of my life, but in particular I have been thinking a lot about friends, relationships, from meeting to parting. Life is about beginnings and endings, but more so it is about the people we encounter along the way. The people who join us for a while along our own personal journeys. Upon first meeting, we never quite know what these people will mean to us, we only hope that they can help us to recognize more about ourselves and grow a little as a result.

Exhibit A:
The other night I was walking home from the subway station at 4:30am. Fear not, I was not drunk, merely extremely tired (either situation not good, so just forget I mentioned it). In any case, some guy stops me and asks what a pretty girl like me is doing walking home from the subway alone. My brothers would ask me the same thing, but they don't read this so I can say whatever I want. He tries to invite me to grab a bite to eat, I simply say I am too tired to do anything but go home and go to bed. He insists on walking me home. I don't let him, he just follows like a sad little puppy dog. Maybe hes not a sad little puppy dog but still.
He talks about a lot of random stuff while I focus on going home. Home and Bed are my only thoughts at the moment... and I am the only character featured. We get to my place and he asks for my number, and in my tired state I give it to him.
As I thought about the incident when I woke up it occurred to me how stupid it all was. Stupid of me, and very unsafe. Who is this guy? What are his motives? What kind of guy picks up a girl at 4:30am? My mind races with these questions and I realize it doesn't matter. Yes, it may have been 4:30am, but how different is it meeting a guy here than it is in a bar. Either way you're taking chances, and you have to trust your gut most of all. If he calls I might give him a chance, if not then I don't have to worry about it. We will all see. In the future, I will be a little smarter. For now I have realized that you take a chance every single day, but you can't live in fear of it all.

Exhibit B:
I met my friend Mara a little less than a year ago, just before I left for Atlantic City to shoot Ice Grill. We didn't really start hanging out until July, but once we did we were kinda attached at the hip. We had our Ma(u)ra photos, and Ma(u)ra nights, and Ma(u)ra parties. All was well and good with the world, all was well and good with us. Some how, she and I just get each other.
Recently we have begun collaborative writing projects, just in time for her to head to Texas for a while so she can sort out her finances.
She and I balance out each other's craziness and help to keep our dreams alive. Both fascinated with film and the processes, we work well. And, somehow we both have enough drive to follow through.
Its not often you find someone who gets you so well, I can count the number of those friends on one hand. I only pray this is not the end of our friendship

People come into your life and leave as quickly. Alas only time will determine what is to become of beginnings and of endings. Only time will tell us what significance these moments will have, these people will have on us. Only time will show us how these people, no matter how long they were in your life, have affected us.

"Some people come in to your lives for a reason, some for a season, and some for a life time."