I'm So Bad At Life
So, I'm ready to leave New York. I've just been ready to leave New York for probably six months now. Being there, aside from one or two nice things that have happened, and spending time with my friends, has been a massive time suck. I have accomplished nothing. I have gained weight. I have racked up credit card debt.
A girl in five inch heels with two and a half inch platforms just walked past me with a rolling bag. The rest of your outfit does not match you CFM shoes. Also, you're in an airport. What are you thinking?
But I digress. I make very poor life decisions. I excel at helping others find perspective and make good choices, and I'm adept at navigating tricky situations that are high risk for others but zero stakes for me. However, when it comes to major life decisions for myself, I consistently fumble. So I was ready, after two years of fumbling around and feeling kind of shitty about myself and being stagnant in my work and fucking broke, to go west and plunge headlong into the peculiarly golden hued adventure that is the promise of Los Angeles. It's really weird how a place where nothing lasts can feel so nostalgic. It makes no sense. It's also kind of dirty and sketchy in spots, but still has that weird aura of possibility. Basically LA, like most of the people in it, is a shyster. Do not trust, but still do want. Uff. New York has become stifling, though. I know it, I know the city and how it works, really well, but I derive zero pleasure from my time spent there, and I'm not sure if it's because I'm nomadic by nature and ready to move on, or if it's because I never leave my apartment because I'm broke and have no prospects. I'm a like a Jane Austen character without the sisters or the BBC adaptation.
And then I was offered a job.
At E3 this past week, I ran into a friend of mine, who I hadn't seen for a long time. We were bopping around the Scott Pilgrim party when he asked me, all innocuous, what did I want to be when I grew up? I answered immediately and without pause "A voice actor", in video games and cartoons. I told him I wanted to wake up and do it every day. He asked me if I wanted to be a big actress doing scifi movies and I told him well, fucking duh, who doesn't? If the opportunity came up, I sure as shit wouldn't say no. But I want to be a voice actor every day. Every day. I want to create characters every day. I want to do long series and live with those characters. I want to be your Fable IV heroine. I want to be a voice actor.
So he called me today and told me he wants to hire me for a position at the recording studio he owns in Manhattan. It's less than $2000 a month with taxes, which is still more than I'm making anywhere else with my no job, and it would involve me being a studio manager. Running auditions, doing technical work, doing clerical work. This studio is his life, and the fact that he wants me to do this job even though I am comparatively young and inexperienced is hugely flattering. It speaks volumes to his belief in my potential. He thinks I could be a voice actor, every day, but I'm not ready yet, and working at this studio for a year will make me ready. This is the job I have been hoping to land since I graduated, only it took two years to find me. Almost two years. Two months from two years. Two months from my move to the golden west.
Now, the reason I was going to move West: I want to be a voice actor, all the work is there. I refuse to live with my parents again, and can live in California for no rent. Free living. No money for rent. Have to buy a car and insure said car, etcetera etcetera, but no rent is a big deal. All of my friends are moving to LA, so my network of support and community will be there. I'm just plain ready for a change. And there's a guy, kind of, not really, but yeah there's a guy. This last reason will become a hang up which we will examine later.
Well, now the work is in NY. I still have friends in NY. A year's legitimate experience will make moving to LA much smoother and my chances of getting work once I'm out there will increase exponentially.
But I have to wait a year.
See, I was fully committed to this. I'm moving things out of my apartment. I'm selling my furniture. I'm ready for LA. I'm excited for LA.
I'm not going to LA.
Between starting this journal entry and continuing it, now, I've missed another flight and rerouted to Minnesota. I'm in the air now. After two freaking out phone calls to two friends, one in LA and one in NYC, I called my VA friend back and said "Remember all that stuff I said before? Yeah, that was crazy, forget that, of course I accept the job and I'm thrilled to be working with you, when do I start?".
Am I excited? Yes. Other than Michael Bay picking me to be the new Megan Fox, since the old one's looking a bit tired and all, this is the best job I could have. It's enough money for me to live if I'm careful, it's in the industry I want to have my career in- it's perfect. It took a while to find me, but it found me, and I can't not take the job. I am thrilled.
I know this. I just don't feel it.
I feel panicked and sad, like I lost something. Even though I didn't, really. Maybe with a steady job doing something that motivates me and that I love, I can get back into the shape I was in a year ago oh my God, the kid two rows in front of me is watching Phineas and Ferb. I want to watch Phineas and Ferb. Maybe later. So maybe I can start taking Zumba three tiems a week and get my body back, and start eating well and get my skin back, and just... get the me I was excited to go into the world with back. This is exciting. But I'm flying away from California right now and I'm sad. And I'm trying to figure out why. And a big part of it is the excitement everyone had who knew I was moving. People I want to be closer with, people who are excited to help me get work and do well, I have to tell them I won't be there now, and that makes me sad. And another big part of it is this guy.
In the simplest, most black and white terms, there is nothing going on between us. We're not dating. We're not seeing each other. We see each other- it is different. Since I met him, we've lived on opposite coasts, paths crossing every few months if that. Since last Christmas, the dynamic of the relationship has changed significantly, but it's still a "relationship", it's not real. My moving to California meant something that I spend so much time feeling at odds with and confused about would suddenly take a step toward occupying a concrete position- concretely there or not there, either way at least I'd know where I stood. I'm very big on categorizing, dissecting. I'm an intensely discriminating person, not in the way that I don't like brown people (I LOVE brown people!) but in the way that I have to be able to understand and compartmentalize things, even if it's into a 'wtf is this crap' file. This relationship is like my Nimrod- it adapts to my tactics and I can't best it. It is more frustrating than anything else on the planet, to me, except maybe this whole BP fiasco. Because what is that. Come on, now.
My moving to California would have taken possibly the most troubling and exhausting aspect of my existence such as it currently is, and given me some kind of closure. He actually gives a damn, or he doesn't. He actually wants us to be something, or he doesn't. Once an answer was obtained, I would have happily focused on any/everything else.
Well, that's not happening now.
So in addition to the general turmoil of not knowing where I'm living and turning around on a major decision I had already made, squared with and was looking forward to meeting, I now have the looming persistence of this non-relationship with someone I care about (against all reason and common sense) but whom I do not think cares about me, very much. But I can't be sure, and I'm unwilling to quit this connection cold turkey, because I've never felt one like it before.
Cue the worst possible reason to feel trepidatious, or at the very least anything less than bouncing-off-the-walls-thrilled, that I have a reason to stay in New York with my awesome new industry job. Very dumb. Not impressed with myself on this one.
But thinking about it, I could cry. Thinking about telling him on the phone that I am not, as we had previously discussed, going to be living ten minutes away from his house but 3000 miles from it instead, I could freaking cry. Terribly, terribly unimpressed self. I feel this would be a good place to remind my dear reader that this person is not my boyfriend. Because he's dumb, but that's... that's a completely separate issue.
Where the eff am I going to live? Oh lord.
Holy CRAP, they have Nouvelle Vague on the in-flight playlist. Freaking brilliant. Yes.
Anyway, I.... I don't know. I took the job. I've taken it. It is the smartest thing I could have done. In a worst case scenario, I end up not liking it and run away to LA anyway. All my opportunities in LA still exist. They're as static as they have been for the past six months, nothing is changing. But my life in New York is about to change severely. I'm not sure if it's the change at home or the fact that the change isn't big enough that's freaking me out.
For posterity's sake, my in-flight playlist:
Telephone- Lady Gaga
Vivia la Vida- Coldplay
Train in Vain- The Clash
Halo- Beyonce
Uprising- Muse
Substitute- The Who
21 Guns- Green Day
On to the Next One- Jay Z
Possession- Sarah Mclaughlin
Summerboy- Lady Gaga
Young Forever- Jay Z
Don't Stop Believin'- Journey
Paparazzi- Lady Gaga
This is Not a Love Song- Nouvelle Vague
I Melt With You- Nouvelle Vague
Delia's Gone- Johnny Cash
Resistance- Muse
Empire State of Mind- Jay Z
Addendum: So I didn't have internet last night and couldn't post this. Upon review it all still holds. I feel like an asshat. A conflicted asshat.
A girl in five inch heels with two and a half inch platforms just walked past me with a rolling bag. The rest of your outfit does not match you CFM shoes. Also, you're in an airport. What are you thinking?
But I digress. I make very poor life decisions. I excel at helping others find perspective and make good choices, and I'm adept at navigating tricky situations that are high risk for others but zero stakes for me. However, when it comes to major life decisions for myself, I consistently fumble. So I was ready, after two years of fumbling around and feeling kind of shitty about myself and being stagnant in my work and fucking broke, to go west and plunge headlong into the peculiarly golden hued adventure that is the promise of Los Angeles. It's really weird how a place where nothing lasts can feel so nostalgic. It makes no sense. It's also kind of dirty and sketchy in spots, but still has that weird aura of possibility. Basically LA, like most of the people in it, is a shyster. Do not trust, but still do want. Uff. New York has become stifling, though. I know it, I know the city and how it works, really well, but I derive zero pleasure from my time spent there, and I'm not sure if it's because I'm nomadic by nature and ready to move on, or if it's because I never leave my apartment because I'm broke and have no prospects. I'm a like a Jane Austen character without the sisters or the BBC adaptation.
And then I was offered a job.
At E3 this past week, I ran into a friend of mine, who I hadn't seen for a long time. We were bopping around the Scott Pilgrim party when he asked me, all innocuous, what did I want to be when I grew up? I answered immediately and without pause "A voice actor", in video games and cartoons. I told him I wanted to wake up and do it every day. He asked me if I wanted to be a big actress doing scifi movies and I told him well, fucking duh, who doesn't? If the opportunity came up, I sure as shit wouldn't say no. But I want to be a voice actor every day. Every day. I want to create characters every day. I want to do long series and live with those characters. I want to be your Fable IV heroine. I want to be a voice actor.
So he called me today and told me he wants to hire me for a position at the recording studio he owns in Manhattan. It's less than $2000 a month with taxes, which is still more than I'm making anywhere else with my no job, and it would involve me being a studio manager. Running auditions, doing technical work, doing clerical work. This studio is his life, and the fact that he wants me to do this job even though I am comparatively young and inexperienced is hugely flattering. It speaks volumes to his belief in my potential. He thinks I could be a voice actor, every day, but I'm not ready yet, and working at this studio for a year will make me ready. This is the job I have been hoping to land since I graduated, only it took two years to find me. Almost two years. Two months from two years. Two months from my move to the golden west.
Now, the reason I was going to move West: I want to be a voice actor, all the work is there. I refuse to live with my parents again, and can live in California for no rent. Free living. No money for rent. Have to buy a car and insure said car, etcetera etcetera, but no rent is a big deal. All of my friends are moving to LA, so my network of support and community will be there. I'm just plain ready for a change. And there's a guy, kind of, not really, but yeah there's a guy. This last reason will become a hang up which we will examine later.
Well, now the work is in NY. I still have friends in NY. A year's legitimate experience will make moving to LA much smoother and my chances of getting work once I'm out there will increase exponentially.
But I have to wait a year.
See, I was fully committed to this. I'm moving things out of my apartment. I'm selling my furniture. I'm ready for LA. I'm excited for LA.
I'm not going to LA.
Between starting this journal entry and continuing it, now, I've missed another flight and rerouted to Minnesota. I'm in the air now. After two freaking out phone calls to two friends, one in LA and one in NYC, I called my VA friend back and said "Remember all that stuff I said before? Yeah, that was crazy, forget that, of course I accept the job and I'm thrilled to be working with you, when do I start?".
Am I excited? Yes. Other than Michael Bay picking me to be the new Megan Fox, since the old one's looking a bit tired and all, this is the best job I could have. It's enough money for me to live if I'm careful, it's in the industry I want to have my career in- it's perfect. It took a while to find me, but it found me, and I can't not take the job. I am thrilled.
I know this. I just don't feel it.
I feel panicked and sad, like I lost something. Even though I didn't, really. Maybe with a steady job doing something that motivates me and that I love, I can get back into the shape I was in a year ago oh my God, the kid two rows in front of me is watching Phineas and Ferb. I want to watch Phineas and Ferb. Maybe later. So maybe I can start taking Zumba three tiems a week and get my body back, and start eating well and get my skin back, and just... get the me I was excited to go into the world with back. This is exciting. But I'm flying away from California right now and I'm sad. And I'm trying to figure out why. And a big part of it is the excitement everyone had who knew I was moving. People I want to be closer with, people who are excited to help me get work and do well, I have to tell them I won't be there now, and that makes me sad. And another big part of it is this guy.
In the simplest, most black and white terms, there is nothing going on between us. We're not dating. We're not seeing each other. We see each other- it is different. Since I met him, we've lived on opposite coasts, paths crossing every few months if that. Since last Christmas, the dynamic of the relationship has changed significantly, but it's still a "relationship", it's not real. My moving to California meant something that I spend so much time feeling at odds with and confused about would suddenly take a step toward occupying a concrete position- concretely there or not there, either way at least I'd know where I stood. I'm very big on categorizing, dissecting. I'm an intensely discriminating person, not in the way that I don't like brown people (I LOVE brown people!) but in the way that I have to be able to understand and compartmentalize things, even if it's into a 'wtf is this crap' file. This relationship is like my Nimrod- it adapts to my tactics and I can't best it. It is more frustrating than anything else on the planet, to me, except maybe this whole BP fiasco. Because what is that. Come on, now.
My moving to California would have taken possibly the most troubling and exhausting aspect of my existence such as it currently is, and given me some kind of closure. He actually gives a damn, or he doesn't. He actually wants us to be something, or he doesn't. Once an answer was obtained, I would have happily focused on any/everything else.
Well, that's not happening now.
So in addition to the general turmoil of not knowing where I'm living and turning around on a major decision I had already made, squared with and was looking forward to meeting, I now have the looming persistence of this non-relationship with someone I care about (against all reason and common sense) but whom I do not think cares about me, very much. But I can't be sure, and I'm unwilling to quit this connection cold turkey, because I've never felt one like it before.
Cue the worst possible reason to feel trepidatious, or at the very least anything less than bouncing-off-the-walls-thrilled, that I have a reason to stay in New York with my awesome new industry job. Very dumb. Not impressed with myself on this one.
But thinking about it, I could cry. Thinking about telling him on the phone that I am not, as we had previously discussed, going to be living ten minutes away from his house but 3000 miles from it instead, I could freaking cry. Terribly, terribly unimpressed self. I feel this would be a good place to remind my dear reader that this person is not my boyfriend. Because he's dumb, but that's... that's a completely separate issue.
Where the eff am I going to live? Oh lord.
Holy CRAP, they have Nouvelle Vague on the in-flight playlist. Freaking brilliant. Yes.
Anyway, I.... I don't know. I took the job. I've taken it. It is the smartest thing I could have done. In a worst case scenario, I end up not liking it and run away to LA anyway. All my opportunities in LA still exist. They're as static as they have been for the past six months, nothing is changing. But my life in New York is about to change severely. I'm not sure if it's the change at home or the fact that the change isn't big enough that's freaking me out.
For posterity's sake, my in-flight playlist:
Telephone- Lady Gaga
Vivia la Vida- Coldplay
Train in Vain- The Clash
Halo- Beyonce
Uprising- Muse
Substitute- The Who
21 Guns- Green Day
On to the Next One- Jay Z
Possession- Sarah Mclaughlin
Summerboy- Lady Gaga
Young Forever- Jay Z
Don't Stop Believin'- Journey
Paparazzi- Lady Gaga
This is Not a Love Song- Nouvelle Vague
I Melt With You- Nouvelle Vague
Delia's Gone- Johnny Cash
Resistance- Muse
Empire State of Mind- Jay Z
Addendum: So I didn't have internet last night and couldn't post this. Upon review it all still holds. I feel like an asshat. A conflicted asshat.