23

Besides the usual ghoulish festivities, this past weekend marked my 23rd birthday. It was not an especially special day; there were no fireworks, no surprises, no all-night bar crawls or fancy packages. For the most part I did not do much on my birthday. I lounged until midday, staving off my laundry until today, then met a friend for lunch and drinks. Afterwards, I returned home and immediately returned to bed - apparently my Asian lunchbox was not agreeing with me in the least. The next day, Halloween, was spent entirely at Locale, in my usual macabre inspired outfit of all-black. Again, I went straight home, went to bed, and arose the next for another edition of Sunday brunch Locale style, my apron just clean enough to squeak through one more shift. After an especially busy shift that found us all snapping at each other, I escaped Locale's clutches for a brief recess to visit my favorite IU professor Nancy Lipschultz. In town for a voice conference, we met up at a tiny Thai place on 10th Ave to dine on pad thai and enjoy each other's company as well as her two friends Mike and David. It was so, so nice to see her and go back to theatre world instead of restaurant world, reminding myself why I came here and receiving some encouragement from my superiors (I wouldn't dare write elders). They all congratulated me on my upcoming gig at Theatre for the New City, saying it was a well-renowned venue in the theatre community. Despite not the best birthday on the books and an abundance of plate carrying days, I am feeling more and more I am where I need to be. I am living in New York. I have a job that I somewhat like and at times rather good at. I am in a show that I know near-nothing about, playing a part supposedly written just for me. It is a time to save and slave and keep my eyes and ears open to what Fortune and Chance may throw my way. My goal is to get through the upcoming holiday season and emerge in 2010 with fresh head shots and my eyes on booking paying work for the summer/spring, still somewhat financially and mentally stable. As the leaves turn color and gather in the streets, my mind is continually drawn to the changes in the seasons and the seasonality of our lives, both in our external world and in our bodies and minds. My own season seems to be shifting, from a period of newness and exploring, to one of routine and work and carving out my New York existence. Now is not the time for the bright lights of Time Square or the flashiness of fancy restaurants, but rather the simple, cheap places to eat, shop, and do laundry and the comfortable drabness of Queens. My mind keeps returning to my summer reading list, particularly French Women for All Seasons, the sequel to French Women Don't Get Fat. In it, she speaks of taking full advantage of the current season, taking in the brisk winter days and enjoying hearty stews, red meat and wine, and root vegetables, instead of longing for summer sunshine and ripe tomatoes. So, I am going to ride out this winter, learning and gather, hoping to re-emerge in the spring fresh and at the top of my game - and hopefully having pushed myself to go the gym. Things at Locale seem to have calmed down, and I am "in" for the moment (I even had to wait on Stefano's wife this past weekend). So, maybe 23 is not necessarily an exciting year, but rather one working towards something else, planting seeds to be reaped later. Perhaps it will be 24, the hours in the day, or 25, a perfect quarter. For now, it's to the grind, taking in what I can and storing up my luck for my next big chance.