Some Thoughts

So I've been inconsistent with posts, but things have been busy. Now there's a lull and maybe I can collect a couple thoughts:

I was feeling a bit crappy about my situation earlier until I got a call asking if I'd be interested in coming in for an interview...and that I came highly recommended. Let me tell you, there's nothing better for a boost than having someone call you about a job. I haven't heard about a previous opportunity and was beginning to lose hope and I got this call.

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I went to my friend's party on Saturday night, and I have to say it was really cool to get together with a group of different people. As much as I love my friends from SU, I have this sort of latent fear that they will up and leave NY and then I will have no friends. But I feel better about it after having been to the party and realizing I do have other friends.

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Another thing I was feeling crappy about was this guy I saw a couple times seemed to really like me, but I saw him like a couple weeks ago and he hasn't asked to see me since. We've spoken since, but nothing else has happened. I made the last 2 calls. If he wants to see me, he knows my number.

Seriously? Am I doing something wrong? I wish I knew. I try really hard not to seem needy or whatever, but would it kill people to follow through. I lay my cards on the table. No bullshit. Why can't people at least do the same? I don't get it.

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I was in on auditions for my show last week and as I watched these actors give their all to the audition, I couldn't help thinking how hard this must be. To wait for hours then get called back and wait againg, when there are maybe 20 parts to give away in the shows. Man. Performing is a tough life, though I still think there is some glamor in it and wonder what it would be like.

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I finished knitting the pieces of my poncho, my 1st big knitting project. We'll see how it comes out when I put it together with the girl who taught me how to knit.

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This is from a book that I'm reading, Loving Women by Pete Hamill: "If I can remember that time without the gauzy editing of memory, maybe I can make sense of all the years that followed, the stupid deaths I later saw and recorded, the friends I lost, the women I loved too carelessly or too well. But memory does not exist in any orderly progression, following the clean planes of logic."