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Bex

Where Have I Been??

I was listening to a podcast this morning about blogs, and felt entirely guilty for neglecting mine. But I was still shocked to log on and see exactly how long it had been since I had actually written anything on here. I suppose I can blame it on the Holidays, etc, but that's only part of the story.

I had quite an adjustment period coming home from New York. It really is a different planet here. Every planet has it's stresses, but both are very different and coming home from NY in and of itself was a stress bomb. Combine that with a period of being out of my medications, then not being able to get one approved and I spent a few months a bit depressed and anxious, so my apologies to all for that.

The news is not all bad, I spent alot of time catching up on films, reading and mulling over my writing and now that the med mix I'm currently on seems to be working, I'm writing like crazy and hope to be ready to submit my current book/screenplay within the next few months. I'll hopefully be 2nd or 3rd drafted and looking for first readers in another month, so I'll be looking for volunteers.

I'm also going to have to have a contest or something to figure out what to name the thing when it's done, I've changed it about 12 times so far, so we'll see. For those who keep asking what it's about....the quick synopsis is that it's a coming of age story about a family. But atypical in that all four of the main characters are going through this process at the same time. It's a story about how far we will or won't go to protect the people we love, and how easy it is to make mistakes with those we care about the most. The current title is The Butterfly Storm. The butterflies serve as a recurrent symbolism throughout the story for change and growth and I'm to the point where I'm so excited about writing it, I wake up and have to start. This morning it was 3:22am when I woke up and had an Idea I had to get down and I love that feeling.

Other than that, I'm adjusting to not having a vehicle in a city where they are a necessity, but am hoping to be able to get one sometime next month and rejoin the world of the non-homebound. I don't know what I'll do with myself then. Probably still stay at home and write, but at least I can leave if I want to.

I hope everyone had a blissfull holiday and new year. I don't beleive in new year's resolutions, but I do beleive in taking some time to look back at the past year, where I've been, where I've grown and stagnated. It's been a great year for me overall....even though I figured out that the move to NY probably cost me around ten grand....I wouldn't trade it for anything, I learned so much from the experience and the same can be said for being back home. It's where I need to be now, and I just hope to look for little resolutions every day to get me where I need to be.

All my love,

Becki

No More Nights in Harlem

Last night before going to bed my mom came in and told me I should close my window because the noise on the street would probably be too loud for me to sleep. I had to laugh to myself because even the fairly nearby 202 freeway can't come close to the fights, sirens, car alarms and partying outside my open window in Harlem every night of the 6 months I was there. Do I miss it? Well yes, in some strange, sad way I do.

Yesterday I was flipping through the channels and stopped on a new show set in Manhattan and out of nowhere was almost in tears at how much I missed it.

Why then, every wants to speculate am I back in Arizona?? Did something happen there? Did something happen here?? There must have been something major thant I'm not talking about to make me come home. Well in a way there is. An epiphany of sorts....yes there were other factors but the main one was this: no matter how much I love New York, a city will never love me back.

It didn't quite take me the six months I was there to realize that the cities treasures fell a little shallow when I didn't have the people I cared about there to share them with. Yes, I was living out a life long dream, but that's the funny thing about dreams, they rarely turn out exactly as we had expected. In my case I realized that the expense and even more the distance between my family and friends was just not worth it when I could just as easily spend my time writing at home without missing out on what really matters. People. Experiences. Even pain, and all of that is what makes up life and whether we can see it through the fog of the moment or not, it is what makes everything worth while.

A city, no matter how much it may offer, can never offer anything more than a background for the dramas of life, and I was tired of missing out on them.

So...call me weak, call me flaky, call me a quitter if want. But don't forget to call me brave for giving up one dream when reality taught me what was more important: Life.

Home

Allright, I've been more than remiss in my writing here....My apologies to the 2 of you who read this, and I will try and be better. So...I made it back home to The City safe and sound. Back to the humidity and heat. Yummy.

By the time I had lugged my 200 lbs worth of luggage up the 10 flights of stairs to my apartment I decided to sell my suitcases so I would never, ever, ever be tempted to do something so stupid again.

I've never actually had the experience of sweating so profusely that I could not see. My eyes were burning and I must have lost a gallon of water at least. That was fun. I also swore I wasn't leaving the building again until Friday when Bree gets here, but I don't think I'm gonna be able to convince my doctor to make a house call. Oh well. I'm glad to be back to my push your way through, work to get around life.

Moments Like This

Nights like tonight I can't understand why anyone would want to live anywhere else in the world. Why you ask? My feet are sore and blistered, I'm dripping sweat and my head is killling me, but even that was worth the lovely two hour stroll I just had through Central Park with my roomate Jill and friend Britta. We wandered through all the playgrounds trying to find the best sprinklers to cool ourselves off with and then veered off on 91st street for the best pizza I've had so far in New York. It was even thin crust, which I hate....but brocolli and carmelized onions. Divine! It was as we were sitting on a bench outside, watching the hot rich guys walking by on the way to their Park Place estates that I decided there wasn't any place else I would rather be...sore feet from breaking in new shoes and what felt like 200% humidity could be born for moments like this.

Silhouettes

It's summer. Which means, the humidity is here, the windows are open and the shades are pulled back. The usual overwhelming quest for privacy is finally done in by the need for a cool breeze and for the first time since my arrival, I get to catch a glimpse of my neighbors backlit and unconcerned.

The combined effect is my spending an hour watching a couple on the eighteenth floor of a building across the street dancing in their living room in perfect aesthetic sillouhette for any who take the odd moment to look up from their lives below. I imagine them an aged couple, content with their roles and unashamed to provide an example for the rest.

In the building beside us a young boy likes to wave across the way and a man sometimes forgets to close the bathroom window before showering. He never fails to remember a few minutes in and drops to the floor in fear and embarassment. A woman below cooks curry nearly every night and the smell wafts up and fills our apartment with the spicy scent.

But, at midnight, most of the lit windows provide only lifeless and empty snapshots: a lamp here, an empty kitchen there.
I can't help but wonder if my window must not furnish the more interesting portrait. A desk, with the computer always on. Books littering the room. A bed cutting sharply through the upper casement, half drawn sheer, and a wide-eyed girl...staring out the window, looking, looking for something.

One More Week

One more week of class and it will be the first class I've actually completed in 5 years! We won't talk about how much I'm paying for these classes, but if it can get me a degree finally, I'm thrilled.

Not too much else exciting to write about this week. Still waiting to hear on the Agency job.. (fingers crossed) and I've actually had quite a bit of time to do some reading and writing this week. Feeling a bit more organized.

We have a new roomate moving in next month, and will actually have an extra one for a month or so until Romeo finds another place.

That makes rent cheaper which is nice!!!!

Anyway. Hope all is well with everyone...Missing you tons!

P.S. Did remember something interesting I saw walking home the other day. This old black man riding a bike and carrying a 27" television on one shoulder up the sidewalk.... I was quite impressed, but alas, unable to get my camera out in time. Next time!!!

Athlete Inside There?

I suddenly feel like running. Obviously that's not going to happen, because...well..it's 11pm and this isn't exactly the part of town they call runners paradise. Not to mention that, knowing me and my clumsiness I would no doubt end up hospitalized with something broken.

Sad, that these urges never occur during the day, when it's not pouring down rain. I must come up with a solution for that.

The Day from Hell

Is it possible to be told by a man on the subway that you have the devil inside you, lose a babysitting job, cry in Borders, have horrible coffee, and fall flat on your face on the sidewalk in front of a million people, scraping body parts you didn't know you had, without it being called the day from hell??

Just wondering?

A Foot in the Door

They tell you that going to church really does pay off, well in this case it was enrichment, but I think we'll say it applies. I met a girl on Tuesday who I was chatting it up with and I told her I was a writer. She asked if I had a job and I told her not really, just some babysitting gigs. When she asked if I was looking I hesitated, thinking of all the possible low paying, boring positions she might have in mind, but then finally said, "Yeah, possibly, If it's part time."

She went on to tell me that she worked for a literary agency and was leaving her job to move back home and her position was open. She rattled off the name of some agency that sounded vaguely familiar, but nothing I could put my finger on and I agreed to send her my resume that night.

When I went home, I decided to do some research and find out why the name sounded so familiar. Janklow and Nesbit. There was hardly anything on the web, except that they were exclusive and probably the most well respected agency in the business. But as I kept searching I realized why I had heard the name..they had brokered nearly every one of my favorite books, most best sellers and had an exclusive, respected client list to die for, including many pulitzer prize winners. Their clients include: Jhumpa Lahiri, Edward P. Jones, Al Gore, Michael Chrichton, Anne Rice, Tom Wolfe, Gore Vidal, Danielle Steele and Hunter S. Thompson, just to name a few. They were even the agents for Jennifer Government by Max Barry...the book I talked about in my Serenala post, in which I'm totally immersed right now! That's not even mentioning their film rights division. I was completely intrigued and scared to death.

But the next day, I was called in for an interview. Wow. I told the manager I was looking for part-time so I could focus on my writing and she said they were really looking for full-time, but she could appreciate that and maybe we could work something out.

So, yesterday, aka THE DAY FROM HELL (see next post) I stressed about what to wear and where I had put my notes for the interview and finally made it in for a pleasant, if cryptic interview. The lady was hard to read, but told me she would let me know if they decided they needed full time and give me the option of doing that if I felt I wanted. Is that a good sign??

When asked what I thought I was looking for salary wise I threw out a number, which was responded to with a yes much to quickly and I'm sure I should have asked for more now, but I'd be thrilled just to be there and learn about the business side of things.

So, in other words....WISH ME LUCK!!

Serenity

Ok, some of you...(probably most) will care less about this post....but those that know me well will understand my elation. Anyone not familiar with the short lived Joss Whedon series Firefly, needs to go rent it or by it on DVD now!!!! It's a Sci-fi/Western and odd as that sounds it works beautifully, thanks mostly to the brilliant mind of Joss and the fantastic cast!

Now, why, you ask should I run out and watch some series that isn't even on the air any more? Because, I reply. The movie "Serenity" will be out in September with THE FULL ORIGINAL CAST returning, and Joss Whedon at the helm.

I can die happy now!

An Ethnography of "Yo"

On a typical night, I have become accustomed to hearing various shouts and other...um noises outside my window. "Hey Yo!" is the most common. The response comes from 5 apartments down..."Yo, What?".

Not too bad, until you consider 40 people on a street all yelling "Yo!" at once and somehow instinctively keeping track of which "Yo!" was meant for them, and what the response is inferring...as far as I can tell anything from yes, come here, call me, pay attention, to cool!

You probably have to actually hear this symphony of simultaneous "Yo's" to actually understand my indredulity. But I'm getting better at it. I was able to follow one particular conversation the other night that went something like this: "Yo, he call you out, you wanna see?" Answered across the street, "Aw, yo, yo! aw man, we havin' fun."

Ok, It's still a little Greek to me.

And She Shall Have Music...

This morning as I rolled out of bed to my desk to check my email, I looked out the window and noticed the postman standing on the sidewalk across the street dancing. Not just a little bit of a bounce....this guy had moves! Amused, I watched him for a moment, thinking to myself that I actually liked this song....then realizing, I hadn't even noticed the music up until that point, it has become such a part of my life here.

Pretty much 24 hours a day I can hear music of some sort blaring up at me from the street. Most often it's something with a deep unintelligible beat or the same two songs in spanish over and over and over and over....I'm on the fifth floor and when I say blaring I mean that I can close all the windows in my apartment, turn on the tv and still not drown it out.

It seems to be some sort of a custom in this neighborhood for people to park their cars along the sidewalk, open all the doors and windows, turn on the music and just have an impromptu party on the street with whoever happens to be walking by.

Now, I'm sure you are picturing ghetto cars, all dropped, decked out rims, trying-to-be-cool-mobiles. But no, normally they are Lexus's, Infinities or BMW's, plain as can be, which I'm sure go on to boring jobs at high tech companies downtown during the day and just live this incognito life as a streetsized boombox when they have nothing better to do.

What I learned today...

1. Gorgeous Men can be 4 ft tall, and when they get on the subway at 42nd street you think they are small children until they are standing face to face with you, and you realize they are 35 and struggle to keep the look of shock from surfacing.

2. Gorgeous Men can also be 6 ft 6, and apparently while talking to their mother and sister they can stand next to you and gently put their hands over yours on the subway pole...letting you know you are safe...and then get off at the next stop...never looking back, never giving you a second glance.

3. How to get the good knock-offs. It is just as illegal in New York City as anywhere else in the world, to sell knockoffs of designer brands. The shops in China Town, and well just about any other sidewalk with 2 inches to spare, get around this by selling look-alikes (no name brands attached). Today however, I found myself just off the subway on Canal Street with a goal. A bag. I didn't care about the name, I just wanted a cheap bag with lots of space to schlepp my stuff around in. I walked in and started looking at all the bags hanging floor to ceiling in the tiny 3 by 6ft space. "You want bag," the short woman approached me. It wasn't a question. She new I was a hot customer. "Yeah," I said. "You folrow," and she led me to the back of the booth where she pulled aside the wall of clothes and unhinged the back wall to reveal the secret back room. Here were the Guccis, the Louis Vouittanos, the Pradas. I felt like I had just been inducted into some secret society. I very quickly found the Prada I wanted and she shoved it in a bag and sent me up front to pay. Even back in the subway I felt myself looking over my shoulder at the policemen in the station to see if they cared that I was taking a purse out of a black plastic bag, and dispensing of it's contents in the station trash bin. They didn't seem to care...and I was thrilled the rest of the day that I didn't see

No Car Alarms Allowed in Serenala!!

Last night a car alarm went off in front of our apartment for about 4 hours, and then started again at promptly 5am this morning, so needless to say, sleep was sparse. I guess the neighbors are rubbing off on me, because at one point in my angered half sleep I think I stuck my head out the window at yelled at the kids on the street..."Would somebody either open the hood and detach the battery or hotwire it and roll the damn thing into the Hudson!!!" I couldn't be sure if that stopped it or not, but I got a few hours sleep after that!

Tonight, the geek in me found a psuedo utopian based online role playing game. Check it out, you too can have your own country. Other than that I'm still recovering from the death defying spill down my loft bed steps yesterday by torturing the postman and making him climb up the stairs and actually deliver my packages to me. Oh yes, it was a good day!!!