It sucks to be me
My Sweetie went to see Avenue Q tonight. It was a local production that a few friends were involved in, and VERY well-done. This was the second time we'd seen the show, since it was one of two we managed to catch while we were in London on our Honeymoon. Seeing it this time was... different.
Avenue Q is a bit like Sesame Street for grownups. It's got singing and dancing puppets who talk about porn, racism, schadenfreude, and a host of other things, but it's one of those shows that is rude, irreverent, hilarious, but with enough of an undercurrent of truth to it that it's quite a bit more meaningful than something that is merely funny. Think Terry Pratchett, and you're close (it's not as deep as Pratchett gets, but it's the best comparison I can think of.) And it may sound cheesy, but in Avenue Q that serious thread is about identity and purpose.
Here's the thing. I was raised to believe that if I went to university and got a degree, I would be able to get a job. Simple as that. The fact is, when my parents were growing up, it was true. Unfortunately, nowadays, it seems almost everybody has a degree in something and education degrees are particularly ubiquitous. Bearing in mind that I went into education, because it was the sensible choice, because a BMus in vocal performance was just a little too froofy for my (very practical) Dad to handle.
When I first saw Avenue Q, I was on my honeymoon. So, just married, and with still one term to go on my education degree. I thought I was set.
Now, I really need a summer job. I had high hopes, following Harry Potter Club's visit to the zoo a couple weeks ago, that the bossman might give me my old job back (a couple of the girls I used to work with told me that two people had just quit, and even the supervisor on duty that day said I should definitely call). Then, when I did call, I left a message on his answering machine, never got called back, but then it occurred to me that I'd left current name, when I had only had that name for a few months when I stopped worked for him (after more than 10 years of my maiden name!) so it's actually possible he didn't even know who the call was from!
Now I've left it for more than a week, because I'm so scared that it wasn't that he didn't recognize my married name, and really just doesn't want me to work for him again. I keep thinking "well, maybe if I call after hours and just leave another message...." but time passes, and it feels more and more awkward to call again so long after the original call. Really, I should just call during the day and actually talk to him, but I don't think I'm brave enough.
Avenue Q is a bit like Sesame Street for grownups. It's got singing and dancing puppets who talk about porn, racism, schadenfreude, and a host of other things, but it's one of those shows that is rude, irreverent, hilarious, but with enough of an undercurrent of truth to it that it's quite a bit more meaningful than something that is merely funny. Think Terry Pratchett, and you're close (it's not as deep as Pratchett gets, but it's the best comparison I can think of.) And it may sound cheesy, but in Avenue Q that serious thread is about identity and purpose.
Here's the thing. I was raised to believe that if I went to university and got a degree, I would be able to get a job. Simple as that. The fact is, when my parents were growing up, it was true. Unfortunately, nowadays, it seems almost everybody has a degree in something and education degrees are particularly ubiquitous. Bearing in mind that I went into education, because it was the sensible choice, because a BMus in vocal performance was just a little too froofy for my (very practical) Dad to handle.
When I first saw Avenue Q, I was on my honeymoon. So, just married, and with still one term to go on my education degree. I thought I was set.
Now, I really need a summer job. I had high hopes, following Harry Potter Club's visit to the zoo a couple weeks ago, that the bossman might give me my old job back (a couple of the girls I used to work with told me that two people had just quit, and even the supervisor on duty that day said I should definitely call). Then, when I did call, I left a message on his answering machine, never got called back, but then it occurred to me that I'd left current name, when I had only had that name for a few months when I stopped worked for him (after more than 10 years of my maiden name!) so it's actually possible he didn't even know who the call was from!
Now I've left it for more than a week, because I'm so scared that it wasn't that he didn't recognize my married name, and really just doesn't want me to work for him again. I keep thinking "well, maybe if I call after hours and just leave another message...." but time passes, and it feels more and more awkward to call again so long after the original call. Really, I should just call during the day and actually talk to him, but I don't think I'm brave enough.