Hercules and the impossible tasks

...like finding the audio files for a bunch of songs for which you have the name and artist written in a language and an alphabet you neither read nor write.

The script stared back at me. Two documents, filled with it, both of them my ticket to having something prepared for the first concert at CTN this weekend. It's being called a "soft launch", but let's be honest with each other here: the GM will be watching and if it's a disaster, shit's gonna hit the fan.

It's not going to be a disaster, mostly because I refuse to let it be. I'm young and inexperienced, sure, and I am totally out of my league here, working in a foreign company, language, and medium (TV), but I am very good at what I do, and part of that is understanding what I need to make it happen.

It involves, by the way, a lot of texting and calling and following  up and bothering people and starting conversations with, "I don't know if you are the right person to help me, but-", and persistance.

Like the seven hours I spent on Wednesday wrestling with those documents, covered in script.

Clearly, I decided, I need to learn to read Khmer. I learned the alphabet at some point but never memorized it, and reading is different from recognizing symbols. But for the moment, I thought, I'll just copy and paste this into youtube and see what happens.

This is what happened:

´ecHemIlEfnagehIy

Un-copy-paste-able. Right, so before I learn to read, I'm going to need to learn to type, that doesn't require understanding. Off I went to activate the Khmer keyboard function, check out online keyboards, install software, whatever else I thought I might need. The keyboard function and a picture of the Windows 7 Khmer keyboard layout proved to be the most useful, though I was never quite sure why the "AltGr + shift" command never worked (there are so many Khmer characters that each key gets three or four). 

Then it was the laborious part of going back and forth from the picture to the document, trying to recreate the symbols in the proper order with the proper vowels on the proper consonants, and then pasting THAT into youtube. 

Youtube proved totally unhelpful, but I did find a couple of the songs elsewhere, and was incredibly proud of myself when that happened. The thing is about youtube, is that the khmer songs have been transliterated to the latin alphabet, so in place of ´ecHemIlEfnagehIy you get something like "knhom jes merl ther neang hery," and the only way I'd know that is if I could read the title and could somehow guess how you put in latin letters (I can read it now, by the way, I had my teacher help me). 

The title, by the way, means "I know how to look after her," which I find utterly ridiculous, but what hey, it's not my job to be snarky about the song titles. 

After all was said and done and my dancers couldn't find the songs I was missing either, I contacted the person at CTN and said something like, I can't prepare the dancers without the songs, so HELP. And he did. I got the full files just like that. 

Let's just not talk about the other document, for which I was somehow supposed to figure out which songs we were to prepare and discovered that it wasn't for traditional dance at all (as expected and anticipated by the presence of a Cambodian dance expert in rehearsal) but Khmer twist and cha cha cha. The dancers figured something out, thankfully, as I was caught utterly on the hop, and besides, I just learned Khmer cha cha cha. 

Every day an adventure....

Auditions

I don't like 'em anyway you cut it, auditionee or auditioner, because either way someone is staring at you and expecting something, which has always made me uncomfortable (see: why I refuse to teach in a classroom and have had to be talked into teaching contemporary technique classes). As much as I can talk about being one of the few trained choreographers here, I still often feel like a little kid on the big kid's playground.

Anyway, this one was kind of a mess, somewhere around 25 young kids, of two hip hop groups, mostly guys and of the seven girls, only three or four could actually dance. They did a routine of entirely sexy movements, while all the while staring at the ground. Charming. The guys were a bit better, in the one group all tough, the other group looking like a motley crew of kids in comparison, but turned out to be equally good dancers.

I was looking for a couple things -- the plain old ability to move your body is pretty important and not that obvious apparently ---

Well I guess I haven't actually said this yet because I haven't actually signed a contract yet and I didn't want to talk myself into where I'm not, which I've done before, but seeing as they're having me audition dancers I think I can safely say that I'm signing on with Cambodian Television Network to choreograph the back up dance for their weekend concerts. They have five, three are "slow" and under my responsibility.

The current state of backup dance on the concerts is pretty abysmal, with freelancers that aren't together and have no energy or stage presence to speak of (sorry, just telling it like it is.) They are hiring a whole new group of dancers -- proving to be more complicated than anticipated thanks to the turnout at auditions -- and choreographers (yours truly) to build it up from the ground and make something worth watching.

I think it's going to be a fascinating experience for me and my career, and am quite looking forward to it, but getting the songs on Wednesday for a Saturday concert and thus having two days to prepare close to 12 songs is going to be extremely challenging -- especially since I'm going to have to basically teach the entire vocabulary and technique to the dancers.

As such, I was watching for fast learners, very important. I always watch for stage presence. This time I added a couple other criteria to the list -- do they respond well to being put under stress (learning a lot quickly and being tossed out on their own, corrections, etc), and do they seem like fun people?

The last might seem strange, but let me tell you what -- if we are going to be working together every week under extreme conditions, we damn well better like each other. We don't have time for butting heads or personal problems.

Drama comes here too -- one of the groups was upset because the assistant for the fast choreographer taught their phrase, which they felt gave that group an unfair advantage. They were still talking about it when I left. I hate drama. I try to avoid it as much as I can, though artists have a disproportionately large amount of it, which I've never understood.

Anywho, it will probably all come to naught, as the production managers get last say, and they'll probably stick me with my last choices. Welcome to television, Gillian!

Taking a rest, what's on TV, and TGIF

Let me be the first to say : It hasn't been an easy week.

I can't say it's been a bad week because, well, those don't exist and there was a lot of progress and good things. But it hasn't been easy, as the overload of things to think about and create and push caught up with me and I caught a nasty cold/cough on Wednesday. That makes everything more difficult, plus the normal hiccups in producing projects.

Yesterday my partner cancelled our meeting for the fusion project as she too was getting sick, and I had the entire afternoon to myself. Despite being exhausted -- from the cold, and from an early morning wake up to attend a press conference for Cambodian Living Arts' new cultural season at the National Museum (Plae Pakaa, check it out) in a swiftly-becoming devilishly hot morning -- I found myself utterly incapable of resting.

Instead, I worked all day. Literally. There was plenty to do, e-mails to send (I still haven't caught up, I found some embarrassingly unanswered e-mails when cleaning out my inbox today), things to edit, Khmer to practice, etc. I only took a break to stare out the window for 20 minutes, and when I ran out of things to do around 9pm, I went to bed.

Some eleven hours later, I wasn't much more rested than the night previously and was feeling even more blah, stomach a bit upset, the whole nine yards. Despite this, I went to work and endured some endless meetings, and then at last decided to pull part-time privilege and go home.

At that point starting to get hungry, I stopped by the grocery store - a bit concerned about the likelihood of anything being open during the holidays this week -- and went home. Except this time, I didn't go to work. I made some tea (I'm out of tea now. The world is ending), had some chocolate, played some stupid games, and when I couldn't stay awake, I took a nap.

I was supposed to visit an apartment tonight, but instead I called the woman and rescheduled. For the hell of it, I turned on the TV, and stumbled on a channel playing Ratatouille, by good chance near the beginning. So I sat back to watch, had a bit of dinner, and when it was done, found a channel replaying the Titans and Steelers game from the other night.

In short, what I mean to say is that at last, I managed to spend a few hours without thinking, planning, or working, a brilliant gift at the end of a long week.

Sometimes that's just what you need. Tell my secretary to cancel all my appointments, I'm taking the night off. I don't want to deal with everything I'm trying to do and make and create and however exciting it all is, sometimes you need to drink a coke, watch a silly movie, or some football.

I was talking about this with a friend the other day -- because everything is just so new here, living is so exhausting because even if you do the same things every day, you're still learning, all the time, every second of every day. I think the best thing about watching a movie like Ratatouille is that it tells you what to think so you don't have to work too hard, just exist in another world as observer for awhile.

It will be a four-day weekend. As best as I can -- and I do try, I really do -- I will take the time to rest and get better. But for tonight -- as exciting, interesting, and wonderful as this adventure has been so far -- I am just so content to sit back and watch some football, because there, at least, I understand exactly what's going on.

Gillian vs. Words

I think there's a lot I could tell you.

Shoot, I know there is. Every day is filled with thousands of words and a million more in explanation and reflection. You know there's a lot going on, I know there's a lot going on.

But I don't know how to write about it.

Well, of course I could, I know what words I might use.

Ahhhh. Just trying to explain this and I'm stumbling. I want to tell you a lot. I am trying to figure out how. I am trying to figure out how much.

Let's talk about words for a second. I am learning Khmer -- I don't know if I ever actually talked about the language on this blog. I think I have thought about doing so multiple times and never have, but if I have and I'm repeating myself -- well, who cares, it's my blog and I'll keep it that way.

Before you even get to the words, there are 33 consonants in the alphabet. 33, but that's not really all, because some of them have "hidden" pairs, and most of them have a subscript form. Half of these are "soft" and half are "hard." Then, there are 22 vowels -- technically. Though, each has two sounds, one for the soft consonants and one for the hard. So technically there are 44, plus one "hidden" one, and an indeterminate amount of independent vowels (which I haven't learned, already being somewhat frightened off by the amount of plain ones.)

I wanted to learn the alphabet for the sounds, which is incredibly useful as otherwise everything sounds the same. I can occasionally sound out the Khmer script, if I remember the characters (rarely), though I never have any idea what it means.

The first week, I spent a great deal of time staring blankly at my tutor, who, bless his heart, talks to me very often in Khmer. However, after two weeks off and time to practice, I was able to understand much, much more during lessons this week. I am not conversational by any means, but if he talks slowly and uses words I know -- not a ton, but a fair amount -- then I can make it out.

I can answer, sometimes, very very slowly. When trying to talk to my partner for the fusion dance project, most of the time I get blank looks, but occasionally I manage to sort things out into a decent phrase.

On Tuesday, we learned about comparisons - highly useful, but I admit that by the end of class, just an hour, my brain felt ready to explode. In fact it often feels like that after class, because everything is so new. And there is so much to learn. I am always scribbling words and phrases in the quickly diminishing free spaces of my notebook. Yes, I want to know how to say that, how to say that. I'm missing so many words, that all my phrases have holes in them, filled in by my default, French.

I don't remember just learning French, so this is the first time I am caught at the very beginnings of language. I would like to think I am progressing well, but of course I don't think, not even in five months, I will be even basically conversational. I would like to be, and try to practice outside of class, but it's difficult.

The days are packed. My assistant job has picked up speed, I meet my partner for the fusion dance project twice a week, soon enough I'm going to have to schedule in some time to rehearse with the kids for the public performance, I'm choreographing a piece for a dance and film project, and then I have a part time job on top of that. Everything is so interesting and so fun, and I have some cool trips coming up -- the Pchum Ben vacations are coming up and I'm heading to Battambang to see the circus, for one.

More on Pchum Ben -- ancestor's day -- to come, as I'm going to Oudong mountain on Sunday with CLA to bring offerings to the monks in honor of the celebration...

August 16th, 2010

T Minus -- I don't want to think about it. I still have to worry about packing and that's terrifying enough on its own, without everything else that goes with it -

I cannot think today. It's been -- I think -- 11 straight days without an off day and all but two of them required me to be awake at 6 (the other two I got to sleep until 8, big whoop). Since then I worked essentially three jobs, one unpaid and highly stressful (but nonetheless rewarding), ran around, biked a lot, and despite getting enough sleep -- for the most part -- it's been an all out war to get out of bed the last two mornings. Along with the fact that it's dark now at six, which I disagree with. I already lodged my complaint with god, so no worries.

Today not even coffee and a lot of sugar could wake me up. I've been a zombie all day. I found myself reading the newspaper in the wait station, and finally looked up and noticed no one was there, and went out and saw I had two tables to be bussed -- it was like I'd just gone off to another planet for several minutes, no awareness whatsoever of where I was and what I was supposed to be doing. Thankfully it was slow, or we'd all have been in terrible trouble. I tried to put napkins in the trash at one point, too, lost track of what I was doing reliably once every half hour, and yeah. I think it's probably because I'm so tired, but I was also worrying the Entire Morning, which is really stupid and gets you nowhere, but that's what I was doing, so whatever. Things look worse when you can't think straight.

These last couple weeks -- days almost now -- I'm trying to catch up with a bunch of people because I thought I had all this time and suddenly I don't. Last night Hilary and I had pizza with our friend Janet, which was lovely. I also had coffee with my Brazilian co-worker -- he is a video producer (used to be a journalist in Brazil), and is working on an online video magazine for Asheville, so he was showing me all of his work so far and we were talking about how he might go about getting it off the ground. Also caught up via telephone with a few other friends in the past week, so that's been really nice. It's hard to keep in touch with people and I'm very bad about it as it is, so it's always good when I remember and when I actually get to chat with all those wonderful people who are a part of my life.

Another co-worker sent me a quote the other day, from Kurt Vonnegut, which I love -- "In Bokonon, it is written that 'peculiar travel suggestions are dancing lessons from God.'" I think it's beautiful and fantastic and I do hope that I get my own dancing lessons.

The other day after Terpsicorps opening night - which, to everyone's surprise, went fantastically -- Raj and I went wandering into downtown and by chance ran into a high school friend of his mom at Pasana, and ended up hanging out with her and an elderly gentleman who was with her. It was absolutely fantastic -- they were wonderful people, very kind, and interactions like that remind me why I still have faith in humans. They did seem to think I had a lot of energy, which I found kind of funny, because I was really dead that day from work and a stressful afternoon rehearsal. Ah well, at least I fake well, right?

In any case, I'm leaving Asheville a week from Wednesday. There. I said it. Yikes. Yay.

Until next time.

June 29th, 2010

They are trying to fix our internet. So instead of just not working well, the cable guy has succeeded so far in making it not work whatsoever. So I am back leeching off the internet in Montford Books, however sitting at the table this time in an attempt to save my back, which is already angry with me for the abuse I've been putting it through -- either hunched over a bike, on my feet all day long, or doing arabesques. I also got some free coffee out of the deal, which is great, seeing as I took an hour and fifteen minute long power nap and am still sleepy.

But here we are -- I'm not really sure what to say except that life goes on. I've been at work for about six or seven straight days now and don't have a day off in sight -- when I'm off at the hotel, I'm working at Pack Place, and then doing a double Sunday at the hotel. At least I no longer have to be out every night -- that was just absolutely killer. I'd get home at ten thirty and collapse into bed. Wake up at six and repeat the cycle.

But I can't complain -- did the internet here just die?! No? Good. -- because I got to spend several hours in a theatre, watching some fantastic dance. It was a tribute to Salvatore Aeillo -- the company was Terpsicorps Theatre of Dance, and they are fantastic, you should check them out -- and they did his pieces "Clowns and Others" and "The Rite of Spring", along with a piece choreographed by the artistic director of the company, Heather Maloy, called "Second Line". Clowns was just really precious, Second Line had some fantastic swing music and a really hot pas de deux, and Rite is totally energetic and crazy and awesome. It was great because I got to see each piece several times, so I learned them well and got to think about them and all that fun stuff.

I also met another fellow dancer for coffee yesterday, a woman who is the cousin's wife of one of my bosses at my internship this past semester. She danced professionally for several years in New York City before recently moving to Asheville, and she has her own company, which blends modern with butoh, which was originally a Japanese form of dance, created post World War 2. It's an interesting form -- if not really in my aesthetic, but it was great to chat with another dancer.

Also on Sunday night, Hilary, Raj and I went to see King Lear, put on by the Montford Park Players and the Asheville version of Shakespeare in the park. It was great -- very laid back, this little amphitheater in Montford Park, rent a chair for two bucks and chill. The acting wasn't fantastic, but it wasn't terrible either. I like Lear anyway, so it was fun. Afterwards, Raj and I took a wander through the nearby cemetery, which was really really lovely with the full moon rising, huge and yellow and generally howl worthy.

This week is fourth of July, which is actually one of my favorite holidays. I'll probably go to the fireworks game on Saturday night, even though I don't get off until 8:30. I'll just be one of those really annoying people who don't show up until the fourth or fifth inning. Not my idea, people!!

In any case, I managed to talk myself out of two hundred bucks -- I got the revised paycheck from the hotel the other day. But at least my karma is still spotless, and I've earned the respect of the grumpy manager who was getting on me for not having the name tag. That hotel -- the atmosphere is so heavy. People are so angry and frustrated...I try to be as cheerful as I absolutely can, try and lighten things up. At least a couple people have told me that the place is happier when I'm there, and it makes me smile -- that's what I'm trying to do, there and in life. Make life wonderful again.

I think this place closes at five, so I should think about heading out. I am highly doubtful of the internet's ability to work but hopefully it will be fixed soon and I will stop annoying you endlessly complaining about it.

Until next time.

June 23rd, 2010

I have nothing to report except a new story that further showcases the idiocy of the corporate workplace. And I suppose I'm buying into that world when I offer a disclaimer and say that I am making fun of everyone equally. I just know about the place I'm working because, well, that's where I'm working. Trust me. You do it too. I know you do. I am not only making fun of the people I work for. I think it's all ridiculous.

In ANY case. So. Today I work both jobs and attend a dress rehearsal for the show I'm assistant stage managing, which equates to a 7am-10pm day, with no time in between except maybe to eat. Last night I had to get together all my various clothes and food and shoes necessary, and along the way managed to leave behind my name pin, a fact I realized as soon as I arrived at the hotel. Uh. Oh.

So I go in and put on my uniform, and upon learning that I have no name tag, all the servers tell me to keep it hidden from the dude in charge, we'll call him Peter for the blog's sake. He comes around. I slink around trying not to be noticed. I manage -- sort of. I am slinking somewhat guiltily by, I say "good morning!' cheerfully, and then he says, "where's your name tag, Gillian?"

Bust.ed.

I say it's at home, and I'll look for it tonight (I know exactly where it is. It's just not with me.) Then here's the kicker: he says he can get in BIG TROUBLE if I don't have it. In fact, "if we get audited," he could get in trouble for a WHOLE YEAR.

All because I don't have my name tag.

At which point, the whole time I am nodding and looking appropriately chastened and saying "okay" and "I understand", I am thinking, "WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!"

SERIOUSLY?!

A whole year of trouble because of a name tag?! Good heavens, what are we doing with our time? Shouldn't someone be worrying about the oil spill? Or maybe thinking up new ways to use energy? But instead we are spending our time deciding that not wearing a name tag is grounds for keeping a hotel under watch for an entire year?

My god.

Really though. My god.

Then of course he later caught me eating a cookie in the kitchen, which is a Big No No too -- oy -- and later on I discovered there was a problem with my paycheck. Allow me to be incredibly self-righteous for a minute and say that my punches were completely messed up, such that I was getting paid WAY over what I was supposed to get -- and I reported it immediately, so my paycheck will be probably half - or less -- than what it said on the check today. Not to mention I've forgotten to punch in and out about five times, so they have to look through all the stuff with me and make sure my hours are right. Yikes. They are now thinking, why in the WORLD did we hire that girl? All this trouble for a summer's worth of work, what were we thinking?!

It's kind of like me and the goddamn phone processing fee that I've forgotten to add at least twice now. All very embarrassing and strange and I swear I am not usually this scatterbrained. Wonder why so much is falling through the cracks right now...

Anywho. Just had to say that.

Ciao

June 22nd, 2010

It has been a month to the day since we arrived in Asheville. As I write this, it is almost exactly a month to the hour since we looked at the apartment we are currently sitting in, watching as the internet sporadically connects and disconnects and trying to figure out what to eat for dinner.

I kept thinking about blogging recently and then decided not to because I thought nothing happened, but now that I think about it, actually a lot happened. And since I can’t currently remember what day I last wrote, and I can’t get on the internet to check, I may repeat myself. I apologize. I am also tired, so that would probably do it.

So the jobs are going well. I got paid from one, yay. I don’t know yet about the other and if the internet was working I’d get on Chase and check it out. But I can’t. So never mind. But in any case, I had yesterday and today off from the hotel, and then work 7a-1p Wednesday through Sunday. I will be training to actually wait tables, which is what I want to do, because I like people and I want the tips. I also think I would make an incredible server.

However, I will be training ‘on the down low’ whenever the guy in charge is in his office and not paying attention, because my supervisor had to convince him that I could actually wait tables. What the problem was is beyond me, but there apparently was a hold up—probably the lawyers decided you can’t train for more than two jobs within a week or something like that. Personally I can’t see what his problem would be with me serving. Maybe I’m too young and therefore irresponsible. Or he knows I broke a couple dishes bussing and decided that means I’m untrustworthy. WHATEVER. IVY LEAGUE EDUCATION, buddy.

Anyway, as for my other job, I am working exactly four hours this week, so I can’t WAIT to see my pay check for that. That is also the job which doesn’t have direct deposit, so I am forced to open an account with a bank here for the summer. At least, that’s what I think I’m going to do. I’ll probably go in on Thursday and see what they recommend. I also need to take a bus ride out to the NC DMV at some point and get an ID card for visa…

Have I mentioned yet that the visa process is a total Pain In The Butt? At the very least I believe that my friend (boy?) is going to help out and find a friend to drive us down. The unfortunate part is that due to timing, I have to go down the weekend of my birthday. Annoying. And I’m not even turning 21, so it’s not like we can enjoy the Atlanta nightlife in celebration. I was kind of hoping to be here and just chill, but we must do what we must.

I’ve also managed to acquire a non-paying job assistant stage managing a show for the summer dance company here called Terpsicorps. I think I may have already mentioned my postering amusement, but this week I’ll be at the theatre every single night until about 10. It’s cool and all, and I’ll learn a lot, but since I’m currently tired it’s rather frustrating. However, as a perk, I get to take classes with the company, so for the past two days I’ve taken a ballet class with a bunch of professional dancers. Yes, it is very intimidating. It’s a little discouraging because I still think I’m pretty behind, but encouraging in that I realize that the only thing that separates me from the rest of the dancers is strength. Balance, extension, everything, it all comes with strength. So if I get myself really strong again, I’ll be golden.

My technique, if you’ll allow a self-absorbed tangent on dancing here, is pretty solid, and there are no steps we’ve done in the classes that I actually don’t know. My ability to do them is sometimes lacking, and I’m sure I look like a clown next to the incredible dancers around me, but I at least know what I’m trying to do. That is important, by the way. But in any case, I am going to try and make a habit of giving myself a barre on the mantle every day and doing some stretching, because my hips could stand to be a lot more flexible.

Anyway, so yesterday – my day off – I biked off to class, took an hour and a half of ballet, then biked up the infamous Clingman hill –whenever I reference this, picture a steep hill. It is fortunately not long, but it is a bruiser. Upon returning home, Hilary and I gathered all of the many clothes that smell like sweat and hiked off to the transit center and caught a bus to West Asheville, home of the Laundromat and an Ingles grocery store. We did laundry and got food, both extremely overdue, and called our friend Richard to pick us up and take us home, which was WONDERFUL.

However, even after all that, my day wasn’t over. My friend (boy?!) came over for dinner. He, Hilary, and I decided to make a run for ice cream afterwards, and were of course right by the little convenience store down the street when it started to rain. So we ran. And then it started to pour. And then the power went out. We still managed to buy ice cream (and beer) and hung out in the store waiting for the rain to stop, then ran all the way back home barefoot because flip flops are useless in the rain, not to mention dangerous. It was a lot of fun, actually. Crazy. But the sort of thing you do when you’re young and it’s summer.

Naturally, the power was out at our place too, so we hung out for a bit, then Raj (the (boy?)friend) and I decided to go contra dancing. So we biked there and did exactly that, about an hour and a half of crazy dancing. Fun as always. I ended up crashing at his place for the night, then biked off for another hour and a half class with the professionals, a class that was much harder than the previous day, at least, technically, so I managed to look slightly silly. Then I biked BACK up the Clingman hill, grabbed some food, and booked it to the theatre, where I spent all afternoon. My main job is filling these GIANT balloons with helium, tying them, and attaching them to string. And then making sure they get to stage right. We are on dinner break right now – a good three hours – so I have to be back at 6:45. I will probably be there until 10. Yay. And then up at six to be at the hotel tomorrow morning.

Yes, I know, whine whine moan. I wouldn’t be so grouchy if my body wasn’t so sore. But since you’re probably embarrassed for me, I’m going to cut myself off and wait for the internet to return so I can post this.

Until next time.

June 11th, 2010

First day at the Renaissance yesterday. I am serving/bussing/room servicing/hostessing; essentially I am doing whatever needs to get done, and doing it incredibly early in the morning. Put it this way: a 7am start time is actually sleeping in. When I'm doing room service, my shift starts at 5:45. I haven't had one of those yet but I'm sure it's coming.

Apartment is more furnished than it was, now outfitted with shoes, books, and quotables, adding a little spark and colors to our lives. I can't live without color, by the way. We are still in desperate need of a couch, but we bought one yesterday from Habitat for Humanity, along with a chair and an ottoman, for $135. Not too bad. I was kind of hoping for a $30 job but I guess there is something to be said for having something that looks clean and not like a thousand butts have made their home there. We still need to make a run to Target and Sam's club, most notably for lamps and a bed frame, but once the couch is in the house (assuming it fits) and its ugly upholstery is covered by a sheet or something, things will be looking up. ESPECIALLY BECAUSE I CAN STOP SPENDING SO MUCH GODDAMN MONEY.

Ahem.

So yesterday I discovered that in order to get a visa you have to have proof of residence in the jurisdiction of the French consulate; i.e. a driver's license from NC. I don't HAVE a North Carolina driver's license. However, my dad says there is such a thing as a North Carolina identification card, so hopefully that will work. Otherwise heads will roll. As my mom said, rather unhelpfully the other day, if I get to Paris, I will have totally earned it. I say, yes, harumph, that is the case.

I spent most of last night with a friend I met contra dancing, hanging out on a porch and watching the sunset and the fireflies come out of the grass where they apparently sleep all day. I have a confession: I adore fireflies. I am completely fascinated by them. I also realized this morning that last night is the pace I want to go this summer, and I am sooo far away from it. Even three weeks (or a thousand years) removed from New York, I am still ticking along at the pace of the subways. I want things to happen, things to do, it's like I must be flapping my wings to live, hummingbird style (I know, I know, hummingbirds don't die if they sit down).

And honestly? I don't want to do that anymore. Over the course of my sophomore year, I took 44 credits, performed in 4 shows, worked 2 jobs and 15 hrs/wk at an internship. Overachieving is a way of life; I don't do it on purpose, it just happens. I take on the world regularly because I know I can handle it and only find out later that just because you can doesn't mean you should. But I want to stop for the summer and just find out what it's like to live during the moments and not worry so much about the cracks between THIS and THAT; I have the feeling life happens in the cracks and not in the points.

But I am SOOOO bad at doing that. I mean, you have no idea. So that is my project for the summer: slow down. Read. Write. Hang out at the pool. Work during the days. Let life move on with me, not behind me. Let each moment be handed to me instead of grabbing for it.

If I am to teach the world to live, I must first learn myself.