Sofas and couches, Busboys and Poets, and auditions

I'm writing this from one of "Busboys and poets" in D.C. It's a cafe-restaurant with a charming setting, including the sofas and arms chairs I love. I'm not a big fan of sitting on a chair or at the table. I learned my way through the University by studying on a couch, and I got my Masters by writing on my laptop in Tryst. Really. I tried to avoid writing at the lab as much as possible. Once, I almost got into trouble with a teacher because of it. I never understood why she cared if I write my story in a cafe or in the computer lab. I mean, I'm writing it, either way. Who else would have time to write me an article in a middle of a week day? Other people have better things to do. Besides, she can easily tell the difference.
So, I enjoy the casualness of a cafe like Tryst or Busboys and Poets. Very original name too, don't you think? Imaginative and stylish. Unfortunately, its latte and chai latte are not that good. But the carrot cake is great! One of the best I ever had in a cafe--moist, sweet just enough with vanilla frosting in the middle and on top, and a strawberry on the side--just delicious!
So I'm hanging out on red sofa, with the lingering taste of the cake in my mouth, and my notebook in my lap, browsing through the auditions. I've actually found quite a few I really like. I'm excited about going back to New York and taking a plunge. But a bit nervous about it at the same time. I'm going to need a lot of courage and will, to do something in the acting business. And a lot of luck. And someone who doesn't mind my accent.

Who's the adult here?

I wanted to catch up with another good friend of mine, while I'm here. He was kind enough to invite my visiting mother and me out for breakfast. I passed the invitation along to her. "Great," she said. "What should I wear?"
I thought it was a great idea too. After all, my Mom is only 18 years older than I am. And she spends way too much time at home anyway.
So, we meet this friend of mine. I introduce them. He gets us muffins and lattes, and we sit down to munch and talk. My Mom asks a couple of questions,I interpret back and forth, but then my friend and I start speaking fast English about mutual interests. It was just the next natural thing to do. Before I could even get to half of the things I wanted to ask him about, my mother is done with her muffin and coffee, she's falling into boredom and starting to play with my cell phone. A message arrives while she's peeling this navy blue rubber coat off the back side of my cell, and she is asking me how to reply. Then she's typing, asking questions again, all while I'm in the middle of a conversation with another person. Wait a minute?! Isn't that exactly what she taught me was rude?
I was in an awkward situation myself. I started realizing that this was not such a good idea. I mean, I wanted my mom to meet this friend of mine, and he wanted to meet her, but I forgot that they will not have anything to talk about after the first five minutes.
So she's now calling M. I glance at her occasionally. I ask if there's anything she would like to say. "All I want to know is can he get you a job?"
When do parents start behaving like children, and vice-versa? Is it when you turn 30?
I mean, my Mom was behaving like a bored six-year-old, while I was trying to have an adult conversation. She even admitted that we've switched roles afterwards. I also complained later that she didn't even try to listen to what I believe was a very stimulating conversation, and that all she cares about are the house and having grandkids, and she didn't even try to deny it.
I guess somewhere along the line I deserved this kind of treatment. I'm sure I've stopped and rushed her from many adult things she wanted to do. But I always thought I'm safe until I have my own kids. Well, think again.

One meeting after another coffee

D.C. has been sunny this past week. Sunny but chilly. It has a bit of a different feel since I've lived here. It's more vacationy. But it quickly and easily brings the old issues back as well.
I've had coffee today with a friend. I've enjoyed the chatting and catching up very much! Then went shopping with my family. Had an interesting Yogilates workout this morning too.
I was supposed to meet someone else for a drink-- a journalist I met some time ago--to talk about how he does his work for the Serbian media from here. But that didn't pan out.
I was actually glad it didn't. As much as I like to see my friends, or invest into my career, scheduling one thing after another is a bit stressful. And not vacationy at all. You see, I like to do things on a whim. I like to sleep in if I feel like it, have breakfast in my pajamas, spend some time in my house before I shower, talk, watch a morning show...
If I get up and immediately start getting ready to go somewhere, that reminds me of school, or work. Not vacation. Even if the meeting is a pleasant one.

Missing the acting...

I'm missing my first acting class tonight. Only because I'm in D.C. and the class is in New York. The other possible reason would be if I were sick. And that's it!
Tonight is also the beginning of my third month at this studio. It's really growing on me. I can't wait to audition for one of its productions, nor to start a scene study. That's when the most interesting work starts.
Thess three months are just a base, foundation, learning different techniques.
It can be tedious or fun, but it's probably important. I guess it's that way with whatever you're trying to learn or step into. I just hope it won't all be in vain.

Friends here, friends there, friends everywhere...

This time in D.C. is supposed to be M.'s vacation, and my time with my family-my sister and mother. But I would also like to catch up with a couple of friends.
I actually haven't made many friends in D.C. in three years. I'm not sure exactly why? I mean, I used to be an accessible, smiling person who would make friends within minutes. Does it have to do with the fact that I got married? Or with the culture shock I've survived here? Or maybe I'm just getting older and becoming more picky. All of the above?
I've made couple of friends in my acting course.I made couple at AU. In the process, I've met many people, but those are acquaintances, not friends. A friend is someone you like to spend time with outside of the shared interest or activity. And someone you trust. And who trusts you back.
I've lost a lot of friends in Serbia when I moved to the States. We just drifted apart. No one's fault, really. It's just the nature of the beast.
People evolve, thank God! That doesn't mean that they cannot be friends with someone from the previous stage. But it also doesn't mean they should, or have to.

Road trip

I've been car sick since I was little. I still recall those long trips to Montenegrin coast with my family, during which we regularly had to stop so I can...relieve my nausea.
Things have been better in that department since I've been a bigger girl;-)But I still don't like long car trips and I absolutely load buses.
M. and I are forced to drive down to D.C. because Amtrak won't let our little Nina on board. So I make sure we have plenty of good Cd's,we stop two or three times and I somehow survive the four hour drive. Nina helps a lot. She sleeps in my lap the whole trip. It's adorable. I love it. I'm petting her and enjoying every minute of it!
Starbucks is generally our criteria for a rest stop. If there is one, we stop, get some yummy, more-dessert-than-coffee drink, or my favorite for the road-ice tea lemonade, but Serbian way-without ice! It's actaully good, try it! There's more to drink, and more taste to it!
So we've been in D.C. since Friday afternoon, relaxing with my family. It's nice, really. Another world from New York.
I'm slowly reviewing my German, hoping it will be enough for that role I've mentioned in my previous post.If not, I'll have my consolation prize-Aruba!

Aruba...or Helga?That is the question!

I'm such a "baksuz" sometimes. I really am. "Baksuz" is Serbian, actually Turkish, for a person who has bad luck. In a nutshell. It's actually more sophisticated than that. Well, I'll explain.
M. hasn't had a vacation since last year. I have been sick three times in two months. So, my mother suggested we go to the coast somewhere, as soon as possible. Somewhere warm, where we can swim. It's good for my sinuses. And M. needs a real vacation.
So, we decided, we should go to the Caribbean, since that's the only place you can actually swim comfortably in the winter. And we booked kind of expensive vacation two nights ago. Exciting, but at the same time, a bit nerve racking. So, to ease our minds, we decide not to eat out at least until the trip. That can save one a lot of money in New York.
Last night, at my theater, I realized that there is a perfect little role for me in their next production...which coincides with our trip! Now that's a definition of "baksuz"!
I know I didn't get the role yet, but I fit the description, it's small enough not have much competition and no one yet signed up for it! The audition is in mid December, so I'm not going to know until then if I got it or not.
Now, we can cancel or postpone the trip, but that would be a clear case or throwing money away. A significant amount. And I really want this vacation too. But I also really want to role. Even more.
So, I'll just have to wait for another month, prepare for the audition and see what happens. And cut the losses then.

And back in D.C....

We spent the long weekend in D.C. It's been three and a half months since the last time we were there.Initially, we were planning on going back not more than twice a year, but having my mother here changed our plans. Of course it did.
We actually decided to drive there, since it's four of us, and Nina isn't allowed on the train. Unfortunately. I can't understand that. Cats can fly but can't ride trains? One can get off train almost whenever one pleases. Also, there's more space on the train. You can move if you're allergic or hate a sight of an orange tabby. But, I guess, I can't find logic in everything, even if I try really hard. Which is rare.
I hate to ride in a car for a long time, but it seemed like the best choice. And we stopped twice.
It was actually more pleasant being in D.C. than I thought. We got to see our families. We stayed at a very comfortable, cozy place. I saw my old friend from
Belgrade. We saw our tenants. We went shopping. I got a hair cut. We went to our favorite cafe twice. A lot in just three day. Oh, and I almost forgot. We had a lot of my mom's home cooking.
She makes this amazing bread!It's soft and crunchy at the same time. Nothing like that can be bought anywhere.
When I was living in D.C., I didn't like it much. Now,it didn't seemed that bad. Maybe it has to do with that bread?;-)

The audition itself

As I was approaching destination of my audition, I've regretted my decision. It was a sketchy neighborhood, with some guys lingering in front of the "theater" singing "pretty women" to my mother and I. She wanted to go with me.
When we got to the 4Th floor, these old, dirty carpets, drapes and stale air washed over my senses. "What did I get myself into,"I kept thinking. But I was already there, and it took us an hour. It would be plain stupid to just leave, without actually getting something out of it. So I stayed, filled out the forms given to me by these two young women, in front of the door leading to the stage. I could hear an actor giving his heart out through his monologue in there. We barely found the place to sit down because the couches and chairs were way pass their life expectancy.
A woman, who did not look like an educated actress, but as a homeless person, tried to get to audition, without having a monologue ready. "I'll think of something," she said to the female greeters, who looked at her like she's crazy. She might have been. The director didn't let her come in.
So they told me I'm next. It couldn't have been more than two minutes since we arrived. I was still nervous, maybe even more. I also kept thinking that I never want to go back to this place.
Anyway, inside this small, rundown stage, there were three men-one mid aged, from Mid West, and two younger, smiling, normal looking guys.
The older one asked me where the monologue is from. "I'm not sure. My acting teacher from Studio Theater gave it to me and she never said who wrote it. Maybe you'll know, you probably heard it before." Having said that, I had my doubts...
So, I took couple of silent moments. I started saying my monologue not knowing if I'm going to know what to say next. I could feel that I wasn't giving a performance of my life, but I didn't think that it was all that bad. Not for the first time.
So they told me: "have a nice day." I said:"Thank you, you too," and left. I couldn't get out of that dark place soon enough. Outside, I was still nervous, but happy that I actually did it! I don't think they will call me back. But really, I don't care. I honestly don't want to go back to that theater. Or that improvised theater. I'm not that desperate.

Auditioning

I have my first New York audition today and I'm terrified. I have no idea why I'm so irrationally frightened. I mean, I know my monologue, it's a small theater, it's not even for a concrete role but for a membership and potential roles, and it's not a big deal if I don't get it. Maybe if I keep saying this to myself, or writing it down and reading it over and over, it will help with my nervousness? Ah,...., I don't think so.
Maybe that's normal.I was always more-less nervous before stepping on almost any kind of stage.It's like pushing yourself into doing something you're afraid of, because you know it is, or it might be good for you. I felt like that in school, before anchoring, before stand ups, before my scene in Studio Theater, before any performance ever. And I did a lot of those.
The stakes are not even as big now. Still...
Anyway, I will go and do it, even though I feel like crawling into a mouse hole.
It's in little over than two hours. And the most important thing about it is the experience. Next time, when it might be important, I won't be so scared. And I'll know what to expect. Hopefully...

Saint Sava and Lepa Lukic over lunch

Four of us went to the Sunday service at the Serbian Orthodox Church yesterday, just before noon. M. had a hell finding a parking spot, because of a parade. We suspect it was one of the ways New Yorkers celebrate the Veterans' day.
The church was packed. I'm not sure if it had to do with the lunch afterwords or because a Serbian folk singer was visiting and performing after lunch. Probably both. This lunch was average and its cost was $10 per person, without drinks or dessert. But the money goes to the church, which makes it sort of a donation. The lunch itself could've been richer. It was definitely Serbian in New York way-Serbian lunches in Serbia proper are much bigger with many, many more choices. And free;-)
But the church can use that money, so I'm glad we helped and not quite starved. Not quite.
The setting was like a small, traditional Serbian restaurant in a rural Serbia-crowded, mostly mid aged and older people, eating mostly meat, and talking loudly. The room itself is very modest and there are Serbian paintings and pictures of the famous Serbian people on the walls.
We didn't stay long. It was way too crowded and we are not big fans of Lepa Lukic(the singer).We did see her with the priest on our way out.But we already gave our contribution.

Moon York City

My mother came to New York for the first time last week. She's not a big traveler type. She's been "blaming" me for making her travel half way around the world.
She hasn't even step on New York ground, and yet she already had opinions.
"It's too big. It's not as nice as Washington," she said. On our way from JFK she said: "New York looks like the moon from the plane." The moon? That must be the first.
I guess the flatness of Manhattan and the water around it reminded her of the mental image of the moon she has. No, she has never actually seen the moon;-)In person, I mean.
It's kind of fun to observe New York through her eyes. She liked the shopping stretch from the Empire State building to The Penn station. The Time Square too.
But then, just hours later:"This city is so dirty."
I guess I can understand this love-hate relationship with this city. And with people. Especially with certain people.

Cold and mean Millionaire

My Mom loves Who wants to be a millionaire. Both American and Serbian. So she's been bugging M. to go on it, to compete. I look it up and find out that one can audition only if in the audience for two tapings. Sounded great! So I order tickets, they arrive, I confirm and look forward to it. I actually ordered four, for my Mom and sister as well.
So we jump into a cab yesterday and arrive in front of the ABC's studio at 2:50p.m. The ticket said 3p.m.
When we got there, there was already a huge line of people, waiting at the door. And it's mid 40s. What can we do, we get in line. Then a woman comes by asking if we have a "number?" We show her the tickets but she said we need to go to the other line, half way down the street and get the number. We're not happy at this point but it's not exactly across the street from where we live, if you know what I mean. And my Mom doesn't live on this continent.
So, when we get to this other line, we don't get a number, but we're told to wait, in order to see if they have room for us because "they are in capacity." Who cares about the tickets, the confirmation! Useless! The only thing that seemed to matter is when you got in line. So we end up waiting for about another hour, made a trip to the near by Starbucks to warm up, moved to another line where, after about an hour and a half of waiting, they tell us: "We're so sorry...."
O, wow, was I angry or what! But, I didn't do anything, cause there was nothing really to be done. Unless to get arrested.
So I'm thinking about writing them a letter of protest. But I still want M. to audition for the next season. I'm just so sorry that we were freezing for nothing, and that my Mom and sister didn't get to experience it. We should've left right when they told us we might not get in...
I know, it's all water under the bridge now. But so hard to let go.
Anyway, we did get the Millionaire t-shirts. I'm never going to wear mine though-it will always remind me of that horrible day. Unless, M. wins a million eventually.

Tribeca

M. has this thing about checking out a different New York neighborhood every week. Well, let's just say that we try to check out a new neighborhood each month. So we went to Tribeca last weekend.
I love how Tribeca sounds, don't you? It sounds to me so sophisticated, so artsy. And it was totally different than Midtown or West Village, or any other we've seen so far.
It was quiet on Sunday early afternoon. The restaurants were half empty, you wouldn't have to elbow anyone crossing the street. It was such a quiet neighborhood last weekend. Quite a different impression of Manhattan.
The architecture was lovely-small, old building with fire escapes are everywhere.
We had a nice lunch in a small, charming Italian restaurant-Petrarca. Then we walked around, and had coffee in the Love and smth cafe, which had fun and unique interior design. I really liked the swinging chair, the couches and arms chairs scattered around this midsized coffee shop, close to the river.
We checked out De Niro's Tribeca Grill just from outside, and it looked really interesting with big paintings all over. Definitely want to go back there.
The first thing that caught my attention when we arrived, was this place where you can paint or decorate pottery. It sounded silly at first, you know, paying so you can do some work, but on a second thought, it might be fun, and therapeutic. It had a fun logo underneath the title : " The art of having fun." I don't know if I would necessarily applied it to painting pottery, but the concept itself is quite clever.
So, there you go. I would recommend Tribeca not only for a visit, but for living as well. It is, undoubtedly, an up-and-coming oasis, just a stone's throw from a soothing view of the river.

More lucrative jobs...

I had a short but full bodied conversation with a Serbian-American woman I met yesterday at the church.
We briefly talked about what we do or did, how easy or difficult is to get a good job...
She mentioned her 28 year old son, who's working as computer guy for some investment company in New York.
"He didn't really wanna do that," she said, "But when he realized that's where the money is... you know, it's not the same if you earn a $1,000 a week or $500..."
Hmmm, I kept thinking, that's exactly why I pass all those business reporter's job openings. Should I rethink?
I don't know. The idea of doing something tedious every day for an extended period of time really scares me. Money or not. I mean, I would like to earn money, nice amount. I would like to be able to afford certain things I can't now. But, I still don't want to do something I hate.
Everything does have its price. The question is, what's the highest one we're willing to pay? I still don't know the answer to that.

Saint Sava Orthodox Church

I've met the Serbian Orthodox Cathedral's priest today. I met him in the church's office, just behind the church itself.
He was still busy even though I came exactly on time for our meeting. There were other four Serb-Americans there, speaking Serblish. I'd smiled, listening to them discussing some church business passionately. Kept thinking, Serbs have to be passionate about everything.
They spoke this hybrid of Serbian and English I heard before, from Serbs living in the States longer than in Serbia, and talking to other Serbs. I understand the challenge. You wanna speak Serbian to a Serb, but in the States,there's this compulsion to speak English. It's confusing. You know, you've being bombed with English every minute of every day. So you end up speaking both languages badly.And only the other fellow Serb-Americans can actually understand you. Literaly.
Anyway, after about 20 minutes of being a fly on the wall, the priest led me to another room, to have our conversation/interview.
He is a good interviewee, and seems to be a very honest and kind man. He was very open with all the answers. And gave me a thorough tour of the church's property.
I found out that the church finance itself only thorough donations.
He was proud of the fact that it's located in such a prominent place-across from Madison Square Park,and just around the corner of the Flatiron building. But, the location makes the maintenance expensive. And difficult and expensive parking makes it hard for some believers to come to the weekly service.
This church is, however, among the top ten to see in New York City.
It was renovated recently and it is quite beautiful. I was struck by the rose window, built from a very generous anonymous donation.
If you're ever in New York, and happen to be close to the Flatiron, see the church.
If it's closed, just go around it, and someone will open the door. That is very, very Serbian.

Sick in New York, yet again

I was so tired the other night, after acting, that only now I've noticed misspellings in my last post.I don't like that. I'm a perfectionist. Up to a point.
But I wasn't only tired, but sick too. Again!
It's exactly the same bug I've been having since August!Over and over again!It's pathetic that my body can't get rid of it, once and for all.
Anyway, I don't know if it's my sinuses, or my sick visiting girlfriend left it for me when she left, but I'm, really, sick of being sick.I can't sleep, I don't feel like doing anything, even writing my blog:( Sad, ha?
I'm supposed to write this "trial article" for a Serbian paper, but I can't make myself sit down and finish it!
Also, I've been postponing an interview with a Serbian priest, just because I feel so sluggish.
I am so not happy with myself. Not only that I'm not working,but I can't even do little fun stuff, like writing my book or articles.
So, I should really make myself write. I know,that when I start, I will like it, and do it for a while, but the hardest thing for me it is the beginning.
O.k.,I'm mad at myself, I'm grabbing my new little lap top, my cat and a glace of juice and finishing my article!Only then I can watch my Crossing Jordan for the day!