Lets eat flowers

Darkness in the city

Could New York City be any darker, any more miserable looking than today? Don't get me wrong, I love this city. I usually walk around with my heart pounding with excitement, and thinking of how lucky I am to have a chance to live here. The open space, the beautiful buildings, old and new, the parks, long streets, surprises around every corner(good and bad), an amazing variety of people and things to do!
It is as alive as it can be. And so fast. It's definitely a city for young people. I don't know if I would like to live in Manhattan when I'm old or with kids. Well, knowing me, probably yes.
But today, it's like I want to be anywhere but here. It's raining, and there not even a flicker of sun. Barely enough light to see in front of your nose. It's a perfect museum day. Or a movie day. Or a writing day....Well, I don't know about that:)

Sarajevo, the ghost restaurant

M. and I went to Queens today. It was only our second time in that part of New York City.
The first time was on New Year's night, when we met our dear, old friends in an apartment for a small but exclusive party. Four of us, at some point, were looking for this Bosnian place called Sarajevo, but in vain. It seemed that we had the wrong address. We settled for Egyptian seafood. Not quite the same thing.
So this time, when we decided to go to Queens for Serbian food shopping at the Euromarket, burek in Sarajevo cevabdzinica, and exchanging some essential house stuff at Target, M. looked up the restaurant's address again.
And we looked for it. Again. And we passed the same streets, the same industrial, storage area, areas that Matt said looked like from Law and Order, and still haven't found Sarajevo. It's a ghost restaurant.
When we came home, M. called them.
The address online is 34 st. It's actually on 34th. Avenue. Not quite the same thing.

Full life and a full job?

I had a 36 hour day. I swear. You wouldn't believe all the things that I've done and that happened to me today. But I hope you will.
I got a translating stint on Wednesday. So, I was working on my 15 page document for about three hours today. I also went to register with a casting agency that's looking for background actors for a feature film, 20 block from here. On my way back, I stopped at the Worldtone to look for my dancing shoes. They didn't have the historic red ones, but I took my time, tried about 20 pairs and bought one! Yay! These are for Latin dances, they are pretty comfortable and black.(I'll take a picture one of these days and post it.)
When I got home, there were two pleasant e-mails waiting for me--one, from Creative Media telling me that they've put my voice sample on their Web site.
http://www.cmdnyc.com/serbian.php
And the other from one of my blog readers, offering to put a link to my blog on his, and asking the same from me, because he likes it. Thank You!
Just before I've changed into my blue pajamas with Mini and Patty on the front, and sit on my brown sofa while listening and glancing to Canterbury's Law, I've came back from an introductory, orientation class at the ballroom club. The class was packed. I guess because it was free. There was a bunch of people, mostly women and some couples, and mostly beginners. It was kind of boring in the beginning for me, with the basic steps for English Waltz, Rumba, and Quick Step, but eventually it picked up with Merengue. I've never learned Merengue. It's so fun, even at the basics.
So I scheduled my private half and hour evaluation class for Tuesday and I'm starting to take a class the same week. The music and the moves reminded me of how much I enjoy ballroom dancing. Me being me, I kept thinking of "what were you thinking" by making such a huge break between the last time I've danced and now.
And now, someone invited me to audition next week as well. How do people who have full time jobs have a life at all?

The quest

After I worked for only two hours in the morning yesterday, testing the other NYPD officer in Serbo-Croatian, I went to look for my red, ballroom dancing shoes. I went to one of the places this guy at the dance club recommended-Capezio. I was so excited, like a little girl, walking inside this big store, expecting to see my shoes on a shelf, and they would smile at me, and I would pay, and we would never be apart again:-)
But, the cruel reality was bestowed on me. Not only that Capezio didn't have my shoes, they didn't have anything resembling my shoes! Is is possible that tiny Slovenia makes better dancing shoes than New York City?!
Anyway, it's not going to be as easy as I thought. It never is, especially if you screw up something and then you try to fix it.
I came home and looked on the Web. Nope. I've sent couple of e-mails describing the shoes I'm looking for. I'm even asking my mother to bring the pictures with her from Europe.
Yes, I know, I am obsessed.
It's just that the idea of having those shoes again and forgiving myself for selling them for practically nothing way back when, would make me so happy. So happy.
Hopefully, someone in this city will have them or know how to make them. Otherwise, next time I go to Europe, I might stop in Ljubljana.

My old dancing shoes

I've been pretty happy since M. and I moved to N.Y.C. Ups and downs, here and there, but over all, pretty content. This city's spirit agrees with mine. It's that simple.
I felt the same way about Belgrade. I did not, however, felt like that in D.C.
Still, I don't remember the last time I was as excited as today.
There's a ballroom dancing place about five block from where I live. I finally went to check it out today.
For those of you who don't know me that well, I used to balldance. Big time.
From when I was about 10 until I was 15, I was an active member of a dance club, and with my team, I performed and competed all around Serbia. Then the high school came. And raging hormones. And the management at the club changed, for worse. So I stopped.
But since I've grown up, or in earthly terms, in the last couple of years(don't laugh), I've wanted to do it again. I used to love it. It must be like riding a bike, or swimming. You never forget it.
So I set it up with this club to come for an introductory group class and then half an hour of a private one, which is only $20. So after all that, I ask the nice guy at the desk:" Do you know of place where I came buy the professional dancing shoes?"
What you don't know, and what I'm extremely angry, disappointed and embarrassed about, is that after I stopped dancing, someone asked me to sell her my professional, perfect, red dancing shoes, from Slovenia. And I did:( Shame on me. Those bloody hormones.
So I got excited about the ballroom dancing again. But mostly about owning those shoes again. That would make me so happy! I'm not going to rest until I find the exact match.
I told all this to M. He's a man, so I tried to explain to him how much these shoes would mean to me. So I said: "Imagine finding again something that made you so happy in your childhood..."
Well, I'm not exactly a psychologist.

Working, then shopping

One of the most reputable language schools in this country called me earlier this week, to ask me if I can test NYPD's officers in Croatian. "Of course, " I said, smiling at the prospects of an easy, interesting work. I used to work for this school in D.C. That's where they got my name from.
The school's manager called again to schedule two tests for this week.
So, I went to meet with her today, as well as do the test.
The school's location, by the way, is excellent. I did use subway to get there, but it's a nice, tourist area, with a lot of good shopping. "Dangerous," but nice.
So the manager talks about what I need to do, she's concluding, everything is swell, but she never mentions my fee. So I had to ask.
"Since you're still our active instructor, you'll be paid as much as you did before--$10 per unit."
Me? In shock!
"I used to be paid $18 per hour, down in D.C., where the cost of living is much less than in Manhattan. Plus, I've been with you since 2005 and I have a Masters Degree now..."
She said:" Well..., you've must have had a government contract. "
"My students were military."
"That's why. If you're not comfortable with this fee, you could do this test today, and I'll find someone else for next time."
Yeah, right. There are Serbo-Croatian instructors waiting in line to work for $10. But I did the test. That's why I was there. And it was good. Interesting. Easy.
My test "subject" was a young police officer, who was born in Trebinje. He spoke excellently. But had troubles reading and writing.
Anyway, when I came out of the classroom, the manager said she talked to D.C. and they told her that I was paid $18 an hour. So, she said, she'll put in a request to pay me that much as well, for these two times. But next time, it will be $10.
Oh, that's fine. It's better than nothing. And it was kind of cool to get ready for work, and feel all smart and important.
I've worked for an hour and a half. Then, I went shopping.

Those Park Avenue Dentists...Again?

Why do mini-medical emergencies always happen on a weekend? To me? Murphy's law?
One of my fillings came out couple of weeks ago, on a Saturday. Or was it Sunday?
I don't have a dentist in N.Y.C. and I love the one in D.C. I also trust him. He's not ripping me off and he understands my absolute "NO PAIN" philosophy of life.
So M. found me a dentist close to home, who accepts our insurance and has good reviews.
I walk into his office and he is an extremely young Asian man. A question mark lights up in my head. I tell him what the problem is and that I had everything done to my teeth only in December, including the X-ray. He still wants to do it, just to be sure.
"Won't the frequent X-rays fry my brain or something,?" I'm trying to be funny in the middle of a jam. "No, no, of course not," he says. Well, it's not his head.
But I let him do it. What was I suppose to do. "No, just do it with your eyes closed, you went to the medical school didn't you?" No, I didn't say that. Tricked you, ha?
So after he fries my brain a bit, he says that my tooth needs a fancy porcelain inlay filling. M. often says I'm spoiled but I never thought my teeth were too.
"I don't think my insurance will pay for that. It sounds expensive," I said, doubting him even more. He does have an office just off Park Avenue. Somebody has to pay for that.
"Well, sometimes you shouldn't think about the insurance, sometimes your tooth really needs something," he replied. I swear, that's what he said! O.K., that question mark is the size of my head now.
"I really need to know how much that would cost before you start doing it," says I.
"I can't check on that here, you have to go to the front desk and they'll tell you."
At least, he closed my gap temporarily. He knew I didn't buy it.
So the front desk assistant gives me the estimate. Guess how much?
Almost $900! For one fancy-shmency filling? Outrageous. Well, maybe the Wall Street people and Trumpists don't care about being ripped off by this just-out-of-school Asian Park Avenue dentist. But I do.
So I take my X-ray, pay for it and the exam, and leave. Happily.
p.s.Did I write about his before? I have to lay off those X-rays...

Let me not to the marriage of true minds...

I went to two auditions yesterday. The first one was for a part in an original play.
It was in this tiny, scruffy, really old, run down theater, on W.36Th. st.
The playwright was nothing I expected. She sounded much more older, serious on the phone. In person, it was this shorter, plump African-American woman, with cheap clothes and a winter hat on her head, inside a room. But I was already there. And the play is interesting.
Her assistant was this younger guys, short, body-builder type with shaved head. Not at all what I expected. But I read my sides, and I read them well. So I was content because of that.
Then I met M. in this place he found on W.56Th st., named "Kachkaval."
It's a charming little Mediterranean cheese and wine place. I was taken by the atmosphere of wooden bar and tables, candles when the light was still outside, and abundance of cheeses and wine everywhere around us. We had tzatziki, amazing spinach-feta burek and a sampler of cheeses including a "Drunken Goat," my personal favorite.
After filling my belly, I went to the other audition, just a bloc away. This one was for a play in verses, something resembling Shakespeare. So I auditioned with my Spoonriver Anthology poem-monologue, which was just o.k. Then I read one of the poems they gave me. I'm not even sure I read everything right. I have to admit, all the Shakespeare I ever read was in Serbian. Except for several sonnets.
Like the one from Sense and Sensibility, which I believe is number 116.
"Let me not to the marriage of true minds,
Admit impediments
Love is not love which alters when the alteration comes,
Or bends with the remover to remove
It is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests
And it is never shaken..."
Yes, I memorized it a long time ago, after the mentioned movie. It was just so beautiful. I wanted to capture it. Maybe even impress someone:)

Streets paved with gold

I don't know how often you read my blog (once a month? I applaud you:), but this one is kind of a comment to a previous one about a spoiled and ungrateful cousin.
Still interested? Scroll down...
Well, today I found out that the same cousin, who moved out of my sister's house after a month and a half, into his own apartment, has decided to leave the United States prematurely. Why? Well, the first job he had was too hard. The second job, as a life guard, is too boring for him. And the apartment, which I believe is in Alexandria and he pays only something over $300, is not comfortable enough for his nobility. Have I mentioned that he only graduated from high school? So, we're not talking about blue blood here, nor a doctor. And I don't even think that he made enough money to pay back the people he borrowed it from in Serbia.
I don't know what these people think. Money grows on trees in the U.S.? The streets are paved with the money? There are employers on the streets practically begging foreigners without papers and degrees to work for them, and put them in big, corner offices? I don't know what Hollywood is doing to the young European minds. Or is it parents?
In this case? I would say--parents!

A morning stint

I've received a call this morning from Language Connections. This guy, Josh, said he has my resume on file and if I could proofread two documents--one English, one Croatian, and send them back to him and this Russian guy within two hours.
He said that I've sent them my resume. I remember sending my resume to several foreign language schools when I moved to N.Y.C., so I said--fine.
I took the job. I wasn't sure what to charge, but I looked at the Web and asked the language company I've been working for years now, as a telephonic interpreter, and came up with a modest price, that still seemed worth my while.
The documents were long and boring. It was basically a contract, written in lawyers' language, in two languages. It took me longer to check it out than I expected. And it gave me a headache. Boring things give me a headache.
But I already made my bed. And I don't go back on my word. Unless I have a very good reason. And you don't turn down a job, unless you have a better one.
So I found some discrepancies. I wrote a short report. And an invoice, a bit later in the afternoon. I did my job. I did it well.
Hopefully, I'll get paid for it within 30 days.

Oh, such a good Wednesday

Today was a good day, even though it was raining for the most of it, and my casual tiredness hit me and never left me, until my acting class at 6:30 p.m.
There's something yoga-like to acting--it always snaps me out of everything.
I got a call from Berlitz for a one time gig, as a tester for NYPD's knowledge of Croatian, plus I got an e-mail back from an agency who wants me to register with them!
Now, I don't' know where these will lead, but they are good news.
And mine, and my partner's improv went so well, that the whole class laughed its a__ off many, many times. It was so hard for me to keep my face straight. Ever seen Seinfeld? Look at Jerry;s face when George says or does something hilarious.

Serbian Consulate making the day

I tried to go to three auditions yesterday. Actually, I did make it there. But I didn't audition. The reason? They were Equity, of course. And I'm not. Not even close.
The first two were at the same place. One wouldn't even see Non-Equity people. For the other, the moderator said "Come back after lunch, but I can't say definitely that they'll have time to see you."
At the third one, I waited for about 40 minutes before the moderator said that they wouldn't be able to see anyone below number 28 at the Non-Equity list. I was 45. I should've come earlier. Well, maybe if I've seen the psychic that morning.
But, it was a good day. I went to the Serbian Consulate where I've met several very, very nice people, signed up for some stocks that the state is giving to most of its citizens, and signed the mailing list. Yes, I'm still a citizen of Serbia, but a permanent resident of the United States.
I asked them to invite me if there's a reception or a party. They said yes. Hopefully they will follow through.
They've recognized my name from e-mails I've sent them couple of weeks ago, about Serbian passport people not wanting to extend my mother's passport. They helped.
She got it, after five days of pleading and bringing more documents.
My point being, I liked the people and the atmosphere at the Consulate and I would like to be more a part of it. Hopefully, I will. One day.

How unsafe is this city exactly?

If you follow the U.S. news, you must know that a crane on East 51st Street in New York collapsed yesterday killing at least four people. My mother has been saying, as long as I can remember:" don't walk below those things, you never know when they can fall..."
She is a wise woman. But I already knew that. M. thinks she's overprotective. I sometimes do too. But when she's right, she's right.
I don't know how many times I've passed beside or below a construction site, with an option of crossing the street and totally avoiding it. It's a bit harder in N.Y.C. since there's always construction, everywhere, but it's doable. If one is not too lazy.

Auditions, yet again

I haven't auditioned for a while. A while being about three weeks. I've tried couple of times but there was always 40ish people ahead of me, and I swore that I will never again wait the whole day and not get seen, after that one time in Tribeca.
Well, today, I went to two. The first one was in the morning for a modern play with the Chekhov Theatre, and the one in the afternoon, for a TV pilot. It will, of course, be much more probable to get a part in the play than the pilot. There were about 25 women ahead of me, 20 minutes before the pilot audition started,for about 4 female parts. But I only waited for about an hour. God knows how many showed up after me...
It went really fast. I just read five or so sentences. I don't know if that's a bad sign or what. But it went fast with everybody, I think. And the nice director said that he will use all the actors if not for this one, then for future projects. I've never heard that before. It made everyone in the room happy. True or not.

The true story about spoiled, ungrateful cousin

My 21-year-old cousin decided that he wants to come to the United States. He borrowed the money for the ticket and expenses, partly from my father, got the multiple visa for three years because people in the Embassy know me, and just flew into Dulles planning on staying with my sister until he finds a job. He didn't have a job waiting in the States, when leaving Serbia. You know, what people usually do? Find a job and THEN move? He spent most or all of the borrowed money on clothes, shoes and God knows what else in the first month, couldn't find the job because he has no documents and only high school diploma behind him, and is still staying with my sister, going on two months. When my brother-in-law pulled strings to get him a good job, it was too hard for him, so instead he decided to go to a course for a life guard, while staying at my sister's place and not contributing to the household in any way--he doesn't want to walk the dog because he need to pick up poop, he sleeps until 11 a.m., he doesn't buy any food because he spent all his money on clothes and he's saving his paycheck for the room he's planning on getting, one day, he doesn't clean...he just eats and sleeps there. And asks for help and rides.
Have I mentioned my sister is pregnant?
When I finally said, enough is enough and you need to move out, and be on your own, he complained to his parents back in Serbia. Well, somebody had to put the foot down. I won't let people walk all over my sister because she has a good heart.
A true story, I swear. Decide, are you an adult who moves away from home and is independent or you're a kid who runs to mommy and daddy every time someone tells you that no one(expect mommy and daddy) is supposed to take care of you, give you a place to live away from home, feeds you, finds you a job, drives you...
Really, is it the Serbian thing? Just because our parents are related, I'm supposed to provide for you? If I wanted kids by now,I would've had them already. The same goes for my sister.
Now the extended family in Serbia is offended by me telling the truth.
This can only happen with Serbs. Really.
Well, I think we will all think twice when someone asks us to stay with us for two weeks. Or two days. Definitely. No Serbian guests or relatives for a long while.
No, the word for a week and a month in Serbian is not the same.

Acting front

I've been working on a scene from T.Rebeck's Spike Heels with my partner from class, E. It's for our Scene Study class, which I;ve been wanting to do, forever. It's a great class. There are only two things bothering me about it. The time--I hate doing something important, creative, intellectual late in the evening. I feel I can't give it, to quote my character Lydia, "my best self." All I wanna do at 10 p.m. is watch TV. Seriously. Yes, I used to go out, but that was a year ago and before that. A lot of things changed when I hit 30. Especially at winter.
Second, there are too many of us in this class. Sometimes, not all of us get to perform. You can't learn acting from watching other people do it. Oh, No!
But, I like the teacher, and I've learned so much already. I mean, I started in October and already, it's a different field for me. I know what actors are talking about, doing, I understand the world...
Also, people are getting to know me at the theatre, which is kind of comfortable. I don't wanna be new everywhere all the time. It takes a lot of energy.

"What a crazy wooooorld..."

Sometimes I wonder if this world realizes how crazy it is. For example, only today the news were that the drinking water in New York City has 16 different drugs in it!Could you imagine that?! God knows what we're drinking. And the second one-- Governer Spitzer was caught on tape booking a prostitute worth $5,500 an hour! And you wonder where all the taxes went.
Serbia is not much better either. The government collapsed, again. Serbs are never, ever going to get along, and I wonder what the future would be like. Kostunica sounds and seems more and more like Milosevic. It is scary, at the very least.
I mean, what is wrong with everyone? When I hit 30, I started thinking how little time I have left on this earth and with people I love, and how to spend it as joyfully as possible, while helping others do the same. It seems to me that a lot of people don't think about their own mortality. They're trying to earn more money then they can ever spend, and by harming other people, in the process. I mean, how did all those drugs get in the water? Some greedy drug company must be dumping them somewhere,and not thinking that its own kids might drink it one day. And Spitzer has a wife and three kids! Did he stop to think about what he was doing to them, or he just didn't think, period. No one ever believes that he or she will be caught. But eventually we all do.
And Serbs? Unless they really believe in the after life, they better get their act together, and try to live their short lives in peace and prosperity. We should all remember that we don't have that much time left.

Movie not meant to see

M. and I have been trying to see No Country for Old Men and Juno for months now. We also got these Regal Cinemas tickets as a part of our American Express rewards, so we thought, why not use it. But the closest Regal theatre is in Union Square, and it's not that we don't go to the Square often(we do), but the timing somehow, for the movie, was never good. Either we are late for one of those movies, or too early, or tired, or hungry...And when we finally today redeemed those tickets for Juno at 4:20p.m., the electricity went down! I am not kidding. We are sitting there, in a half-full theatre, excited while waiting for what everyone says it's a great movie, with our medium gigantic popcorn bag and a home-style lemonade with more ice than lemon, when the previews died, there, in front of us. Then they rose from ashes. And died again. For good. Someone came to tell us that the power is down and that we can use our ticket stabs any time. They even reimbursed our $6 bag of popcorn. Well, it was almost full anyway. And it's not like we are going to eat it walking out of the movie theatre.

Lydia I am

My acting teacher gave me a scene to work with, and a partner. The scene is from Theresa Rebeck's Spike Heels, and my partner is my acting buddy-E. I've been in the same class with E. for three months now. We already had an improv together, which worked out well. She's nice and easy to work with. I'm trying to be the same.
In this play I am Lydia, a rich woman who's engaged to a sweet professor. The twist is that above my scholar lives a kind of trashy,good looking, swearing Georgie, who's really too good of friends with my Andrew. Or is it more than that? I confront G. when my fiancee postpones our wedding. On the same night, I also find Georgie's clothes in Andrew's apartment...Scary, ha?
As you can, no doubt, see, the scene is at the very least confrontational. But that is not the problem. The difficulty is that in this scene, Lydia and Georgie have friendly moments, where, for one, I am giving my heart out to one of my hearth breakers. And that will be really hard to do, and mean it. Really feel it.

Columbia

I went to Columbia University for the first time today. It's on 116Th street, which is a long subway ride for me.
I went to meet a professor of Serbo-Croatian literature and language, who I found by googling, and who was nice enough to invite me to her office after I dropped her an e-mail just a few days ago.
Columbia's campus is amazingly big and beautiful. I used to think American has a nice campus.
When you get in, after you go through an alley with old buildings on left and right, you see an Acropolis looking building, with an Alma Mater statue half way on the long stairs. On the right side are three huge lawns, in front of another library. The buildings are beautifully old and I had a feeling I was in a European museum complex, not an American campus. Not at all.
This professor is a sweet Serbian woman in her 60s, who invited and encouraged me to come to some Serbo-Croatian events and seminars in the city. I believe that Columbia is the only University that teaches Serbo-Croatian in New York.
I was interested in employment. She said that there's no chance for that, not even for their own PhD students. She also suggested I get one. And for a moment, I thought about it. But then she said, it would take at least seven years?! Seven years?
My, that's really long. I don't know if I can commit again, to something like that. I mean, I'm already married.

3:10 to Yuma

When M. ordered a Western from Netflix I wasn't exactly thrilled, as you can imagine. What I remember as Westerns are bunch or dirty guys shooting at each other. Period. And they certainly appeal more to manly tastes. But 3:10 to Yuma has an interesting title and actors, so I gave it the time of the day. It actually, to my big surprise, turned out to be a great movie. Both Bale and Crowe, were excellent, and the story just flows, grabs you in, and you can't wait to see what's going to happen. At all that, it wasn't shallow nor predictable. And the characters were clearly and deeply drawn, and there's a whole variety of them. The music was good as well. All and all, a pleasant two hours of one's life. You should see it!

Angry at Me, after Petrarka

M.'s family invited us to Tribeca today, for a brunch. So, by chance, we ended up having another meal at Petrarka's. I really have been craving a brunch drink, such as Mimosa or Bellini, so I had a delicious Bellini, herb and goat cheese omelet, and a cappuccino. Not all at once, of course.
Service at Petrarka was as good as usual. My omelet was just o.k., kind of doughy, not eggy, which was a bit weird, but the parts with goat cheese were yummy. The mixed salad that came with it was good too, and had avocados, which I'm addicted to. Cappuccino was in this huge cup, and very foamy, which I also love. M. had black seafood pasta, which was tasty as well. All in all, good brunch, in an unusually empty restaurant on Sunday at noon.
Actually, I wanted to go to an audition today, but since I was tired after the brunch, I didn't. I also forgot what the audition was for. When I came home, I looked at my Backstage paper, and discovered that it was for a film. I was soooo disappointed. My organization skills are usually pretty good, but I haven't been using them lately. I mean, film is actually what I want to get in to, so I should make sure to put a "must" or an exclamation point next to that kind of audition. Otherwise, all my acting classes won't get me anywhere. You see, it's not only enough to know how to act, and to be at the right place at the right time, and to be perfect for the role. I realized that one needs more than all that to get into this amazingly wanted, crowded, irrational business in New York City.
I was so angry with myself today. I don't have that much time to get to where I want to be. And with all my restrictions, such as no nudity, no sex-simulations, and so forth, I better have my act together, and a great plan to stick to. And lots of luck.