What I have to Offer from Eliot Rausch on Vimeo.
- Hill's Manual of Social and Business Forms: Etiquette for the Table
Monday, December 9, 2013
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Love, Empathetic Emily
So I
just had this really unexpectedly beautiful moment with a guy from my improv
class. It was our last class, and the teacher decided to go around and give
everyone a personal shoutout. He got to me and started saying things like,
"You're chockfull of kickass creativity, I just want to publish you. I
wish your scenes could go on and on, that you could get all your ideas out and
developed...(Too bad you can't)." So, rocking around my pessimistic brain
was some disjointed stream of thoughts that looked something like this--
You're using your creativity as a crutch...
Stop.
Lock eyeballs.
Drop it.
Hobble your way over and lean on someone else's.
Why aren't you moving?
This isn't the place Palmer.
This isn't your place...
I had to me grit my teeth to keep my blood from boiling over and projectiling out all over his pretty little baby face.
*Cutting back to beautiful moments.*
The class ends, and we’re all walking to the subway, sort of breaking apart into smaller groups as we go. I end up with this guy that until then, I’d had very little interaction with, not sure why. But, he comes up to me and very flat outly says--I see you, and this is what you are, and this is how you need to see it.
You know those out of body conversations when you feel like you’re an alternate in some mind-bending play? It was that. Specifically the part when you realize shit's just getting real, but you have to pee like a racehorse! I gritted my teeth again, told myself to focus, and tuned back in. He started talking about the French complicité, which is a fancy term for showing up and committing. Recognize what it is that makes an instance precious and do all you can to hold on to that as tightly and as fearlessly as possible.
Firstly, you have to know that it's a dynamic, not a bounce back and forth but that spark somewhere in the middle. It’s not your version of it, or hers, or his, or hers of his; it’s one entity that requires a specific kind of connection with the trust and patience to forget your terms, to let go of having to relate, to not spin it or refocus it, but to just be in it. It’s about so much more than teamworking it to the top, but both spotting that something amazing is happening and knowing your why’s match without having to ask.
I love working in groups, I always have. But it’s always been, what do I bring, or what am I getting? It’s never just, what will we be? There’s something so special about just being, about synching in a way that in itself, plot/character/zaniness aside, is precious. So thanks, Crazy Kyle, for putting a yes and on a shitty day and turning it into something pretty unforgettable.
You're using your creativity as a crutch...
Stop.
Lock eyeballs.
Drop it.
Hobble your way over and lean on someone else's.
Why aren't you moving?
This isn't the place Palmer.
This isn't your place...
I had to me grit my teeth to keep my blood from boiling over and projectiling out all over his pretty little baby face.
*Cutting back to beautiful moments.*
The class ends, and we’re all walking to the subway, sort of breaking apart into smaller groups as we go. I end up with this guy that until then, I’d had very little interaction with, not sure why. But, he comes up to me and very flat outly says--I see you, and this is what you are, and this is how you need to see it.
You know those out of body conversations when you feel like you’re an alternate in some mind-bending play? It was that. Specifically the part when you realize shit's just getting real, but you have to pee like a racehorse! I gritted my teeth again, told myself to focus, and tuned back in. He started talking about the French complicité, which is a fancy term for showing up and committing. Recognize what it is that makes an instance precious and do all you can to hold on to that as tightly and as fearlessly as possible.
Firstly, you have to know that it's a dynamic, not a bounce back and forth but that spark somewhere in the middle. It’s not your version of it, or hers, or his, or hers of his; it’s one entity that requires a specific kind of connection with the trust and patience to forget your terms, to let go of having to relate, to not spin it or refocus it, but to just be in it. It’s about so much more than teamworking it to the top, but both spotting that something amazing is happening and knowing your why’s match without having to ask.
I love working in groups, I always have. But it’s always been, what do I bring, or what am I getting? It’s never just, what will we be? There’s something so special about just being, about synching in a way that in itself, plot/character/zaniness aside, is precious. So thanks, Crazy Kyle, for putting a yes and on a shitty day and turning it into something pretty unforgettable.
"I don't know Who--or what--put the
question, I don't know when it was put. I don't even remember answering. But at
some moment I did answer Yes to Someone--or Something--and from that hour I was
certain that existence is meaningful and that, therefore, my life, in self-surrender,
had a goal."
-Dag Hammarskjöld, Markings
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
New York Napkins
Some New York stories, sticky situations, & saving graces; I'll just keep adding shit as it happens. So here we go, more to come :)
11/26/13
"Umm, hey, do you wanna maybe look where you're going?" (sarcastically suggestive)
"GET ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE STREET YOU FUCKING CUNT!" (the opposite of that)
Overkill? I think so.
Also, you don't own 8th ave, Shake Shack does, let's be real.
11/23/13
"So here's what I just can't understand--Once I go buy the book I want, how do I get it physically into the Kindle??" My mom smacks her hands together....Really, that's how they think it happens...
10/23/13
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kent-nerburn/cab-ride_b_1474147.html
09/19/13
09/07/13
08/13/13
07/15/13
A guy ran up to me panting, "You dropped this...six blocks back...lost you...found you...bye!" It was a pen.
A man got on the subway and tried to sit in a seat with a coffee puddle that had a mysterious hair floating in it. The entire car screamed, "NOOOOOOOO!" The woman sitting next to the puddle actually reached over and grabbed the guys butt before it could hit the seat.
Then, after all that good, I got on a packed F train at 7 to go to work, and when I went to yawn, the guy next to me sneezed, in my mouth.
God it's great to be here.
12/10/13
11/26/13
There's a first.
Today, on November 26th, two days before the national day of giving thanks for all this beautiful life is we so luckily get to share in, a woman called me a "fucking cunt" in Hell's Kitchen. I had a busy and long day at work so already wasn't in the best of moods. I got off the subway and walked past this woman who had her umbrella in front of her face and was literally plowing through the people she passed. The frustrated, overworked, overtired version of myself is never a doll, so I admit, I could've just not said anything or been more polite. But, instead I decided to stand up for the other passerby's, making faces as they got rammed into. It looked a little something like this--"Umm, hey, do you wanna maybe look where you're going?" (sarcastically suggestive)
"GET ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE STREET YOU FUCKING CUNT!" (the opposite of that)
Overkill? I think so.
Also, you don't own 8th ave, Shake Shack does, let's be real.
11/23/13
The Way We Do Wifi
An older couple comes up to me in Starbucks and the husband after clearing his throat softly says, "We're new to New York. How do we work the wifi here? Can you help us?" The wife then puts their macbook on my table and starts tapping at it, sighs when nothing happens and walks away. The husband and I exchange looks, and I push the power button...Looked like my parents, talked like my parents, made me momentarily actually miss my parents."So here's what I just can't understand--Once I go buy the book I want, how do I get it physically into the Kindle??" My mom smacks her hands together....Really, that's how they think it happens...
10/23/13
Don't Be a Crabby Cabbie.
A kind cabbie makes your day so much sweeter. I remember when I was running late to work one morning and had to grab a taxi. The old cabbie whose name I wish I could remember looked back at me and said, "You look like you're about to just go kaput, and the day hasn't even started!" He did this little head nod and kind of encouraging smile that I never see old people do, mostly because they're usually the ones getting instead of giving them. Then he sang me a bunch of songs from Annie, with a Billy Joel song (and a couple wrong turns) somewhere in the middle when he momentarily forgot what he was doing. It was all broken lyrics with ya-da-dee-da-da-dum's and lots of throat clearing and short mid-phrase pauses. When we got there, I was fumbling around for my credit card, sunken down in my seat trying to hide the fact that I was crying from laughing so hard but failing since I clearly couldn't see what I was doing through the tears. He said he hoped his singing hadn't made my day worse, and I gave him a head nod, one of those smiles, and a big ass tip :)http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kent-nerburn/cab-ride_b_1474147.html
09/19/13
Weeds.
I was looking around for an apartment and saw one that looked like pretty promising! Then, I google mapped it to see it was right next to the crack is wack playground...Yep, that's a thing.
09/07/13
Top of The Morning, Taren.
My first improv class was pretty memorable, in that I laughed a lot, made friends faster than I ever have before, rocked some scenes before I knew I could, and then had a concussion. So, a couple weeks later, I was at Lenox Hill Radiology sitting there twiddling my thumbs at the technician, thinking up some long winded stories that made more sense than the truth before finally just blurting out, "I slipped on a skittle and fell." Then we did the MRI, which to me sort of feels like pregnancy in reverse. You get shot up into this tube, then you hear a series of crazy banging sounds, high and low, that the more listen to, realize it could be a conversation, or the echo of someone pressing their ear or hand right against you. I remember thinking it was actually pretty soothing. I'm not the yoga or meditative type, constantly in headphones off in another world instead of giving my mind the r&r it apparently is pretty crazy about. That experience though forced me to just sit still and shut up. I'm pretty paranoid and somehow convinced myself that if I let my mind go off on the bizarre tangents it likes to go on normally, it'd show up on the scan, and I'd be flat out told I was crazy. So, I said, "Brain, tonight, we're gonna take two, okay? I'll be back later, with coffee, peanut butter, and plenty more mayhem, don't worry!" So that happened, and I actually thought it was a pretty painless process considering...until I got the bill, for a thousand dollars, that wasn't much fun. So, I did some extra babysitting to make up for it, last night in fact. I woke up for work at 5:30, was finished around 7, went straight to the babysitting job, and didn't get back till like 3 in the morning. The week had been absolutely crazy, I was completely exhausted, and just getting home, when a guy walked up to me and without anything else first just said, "So, wanna get high with me?". All I had the energy to say was, "uh-uh" and walk away. Somehow, despite all of this, I'm still playing make believe with grownups every Wednesday night at the PIT.08/13/13
Move It, Rosie!
I'm in the slowest moving elevator ever with two girls that are talking over each other in maybe Dutch? All the sudden they stop and one of them whispers to the other in English, "I love my tongue. It's so long and stretchy." And cue me breaking out into hysterical laughter (chesty, snorty, borderline weepy)....and then they stare me down for the next half hour/eternity till the doors finally open and I bolt. Happy Tuesday!07/15/13
O.T.T.
(A girl I went to high school with used to say this when something really big happened, sort of like Pheobe in the Magic School Bus, "At my old school, we never rode on bees...")
It's always such an extreme, New Yorkers are just outright rude or shockingly sweet, I love it.A guy ran up to me panting, "You dropped this...six blocks back...lost you...found you...bye!" It was a pen.
A man got on the subway and tried to sit in a seat with a coffee puddle that had a mysterious hair floating in it. The entire car screamed, "NOOOOOOOO!" The woman sitting next to the puddle actually reached over and grabbed the guys butt before it could hit the seat.
Then, after all that good, I got on a packed F train at 7 to go to work, and when I went to yawn, the guy next to me sneezed, in my mouth.
God it's great to be here.
12/10/13
"You Remind Me of My Mom...And I HATE My Mom!"
Mom: How are things
at the apartment, do you like your neighbors?
Me: Actually yeah,
they all seem surprisingly nice. I made one brownies, and she wrote me a sweet
note and added me on facebook. She asked me to go for a run with her, not sure
we’ll be best of friends...but she’s nice.
Mom: Good! I liked
that guy, you know, the one who always wears socks with sandals?
Me: You met him once,
how do you know he always does that?
Mom: Because people
who do that always do that.
Me: You’re
actually...no, no I’ve never seen him do that.
Sunday, September 29, 2013
happy that b, bud. you deserve. it.
You can do it, you can have it all.
Leah Elizabeth Creary wrote on Matthew Sebastian's timeline.
matt. happy birthday.
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-
-
-
-
-
You can do it, you can have it all.
Leah Elizabeth Creary wrote on Matthew Sebastian's timeline.
matt. happy birthday.
I missed this. Time to come back.
Friday, March 8, 2013
Blarg!
Hi everybody!
I really, really need a rant right now. I don't know how long it will last because I'm really tired and need to be up in a few hours to go to a job that sucks part of my soul away every time I walk through the door...but let's see what happens. I can't go to sleep angry.
So the main issue right now is that I am working this extremely physically and emotionally draining job, and getting paid in circus peanuts. Yes, it is a paycheck and I am grateful to have one when so many others do not. Really though, I have twenty babies (12-18 months old) in my classroom that I am responsible for all day and I get paid $10.00 an hour. I mean, I feed some of these kids all of the meals that they eat in a day. I'm with them more than their parents are! I change at least 20 diapers a day. I wipe noses, break up fights, clean all types of bodily fluids. I provide some of the only examples of discipline, and structure that these kids get in their lives. I deal with rude, nasty parents and management. I hear, and see sneaky things going on in this business that claims to be the best of all early childhood education centers. Greedy, greedy people who own the school and care nothing about the families, children, or employees. It's just a bunch of numbers and dollar signs. Jaded, overworked, underpaid, nasty teachers who curse at the kids all day and should not be allowed to work with children...but despite being removed from every room in the school for having a bad attitude and a bad mouth in the 2.5 years of her employment, is still employed by the school. But now she works with the babies who can't repeat the terribly negative things she says all day. And when the other teachers in the room go to management to let them know of her abusive behaviors with the children in the room they tell us that we need to "really think about exactly what we want to say to them." It's disgusting. When I have my own children, I will avoid daycare centers at all cost because of the nightmares I have witnessed working for this company.
To work this job you need a bachelors degree in any area of education...and you get paid $10.00 per hour. Definitely not where I thought I would be when I was 18 years old and signing my life away to Westminster and Sallie Mae because I knew I wanted to be a music teacher. And the over $90,000 in student loan debt was okay because when I graduated I'd be working in a school with a steady full time teaching job and everything would be fantastic! Also when I was 18 I really had no idea how much money that was...
I feel like I shouldn't have been allowed to make a decision like that when I was so young. I wish someone could have sat me down and said...Okay listen, in four years you are going to be so sick of music and all things music education that it will no longer be something you want to do with your life. Yes, you'll always love music, but you will not want to be a music teacher when you're done with this. Though, knowing 18 year old me, I probably wouldn't have listened anyway. Paths change, and eventually they lead you where you're going.
This past year has been beyond insane. I was lost and depressed. I had no idea what I was going to do with my life or how I would get over what happened between John and I. But therapy, and a lot of searching have brought me to social work. I am going to get my Masters degree in Social Work! I will be a therapist and work with individuals, families and children so I can help people get through the difficulties they face in their lives. So all those break downs I had in college when I felt like I didn't want to be a music teacher, and that I wanted to do something more with my life were actually for a reason other than just my insecurities and anxiety issues.
I was accepted into my top choice school and I plan to start the two year program in the Fall. I am soooooooooooooo excited and I can't wait to start! The only thing is the money issue of course...it's a private school so tuition is outrageous, but the program is fantastic. I got the financial aid letter when I got home from work today and I have a small graduate fellowship scholarship, and another big fat federal loan. But that doesn't cover the entire cost of attendance...so somehow I need to find more scholarships, and grants so I don't have to take out another crazy private loan. But since I'm not a minority, Jewish or disabled it's really hard to find any scholarships that I am eligible for. Sorry for being a little harsh, but seriously. I'm just a white girl who needs help paying for school because my family cannot help me.
Also I've been on the job search because I need to get out of this terrible working environment. I feel like for a little while I need to have an office job. Some quiet place where I can have real conversations with adults all day that don't involve poop, instead of singing my ABC's and telling kids not to beat each other over the head with their toys. I've applied to a few jobs with DYFS, the Y, Catholic Charities, and some hospitals but nothing has come through yet. They all want you to have a degree, and experience in a social service/mental health field...understandable. But even receptionist jobs want you to have experience...come on. I know how to answer the phone and schedule appointments. I really don't think I need a years experience for that job. How do you get experience if you can't get a job in it first?
UGH! Okay so I think this is where I stop. Thanks for listening. :)
I really, really need a rant right now. I don't know how long it will last because I'm really tired and need to be up in a few hours to go to a job that sucks part of my soul away every time I walk through the door...but let's see what happens. I can't go to sleep angry.
So the main issue right now is that I am working this extremely physically and emotionally draining job, and getting paid in circus peanuts. Yes, it is a paycheck and I am grateful to have one when so many others do not. Really though, I have twenty babies (12-18 months old) in my classroom that I am responsible for all day and I get paid $10.00 an hour. I mean, I feed some of these kids all of the meals that they eat in a day. I'm with them more than their parents are! I change at least 20 diapers a day. I wipe noses, break up fights, clean all types of bodily fluids. I provide some of the only examples of discipline, and structure that these kids get in their lives. I deal with rude, nasty parents and management. I hear, and see sneaky things going on in this business that claims to be the best of all early childhood education centers. Greedy, greedy people who own the school and care nothing about the families, children, or employees. It's just a bunch of numbers and dollar signs. Jaded, overworked, underpaid, nasty teachers who curse at the kids all day and should not be allowed to work with children...but despite being removed from every room in the school for having a bad attitude and a bad mouth in the 2.5 years of her employment, is still employed by the school. But now she works with the babies who can't repeat the terribly negative things she says all day. And when the other teachers in the room go to management to let them know of her abusive behaviors with the children in the room they tell us that we need to "really think about exactly what we want to say to them." It's disgusting. When I have my own children, I will avoid daycare centers at all cost because of the nightmares I have witnessed working for this company.
To work this job you need a bachelors degree in any area of education...and you get paid $10.00 per hour. Definitely not where I thought I would be when I was 18 years old and signing my life away to Westminster and Sallie Mae because I knew I wanted to be a music teacher. And the over $90,000 in student loan debt was okay because when I graduated I'd be working in a school with a steady full time teaching job and everything would be fantastic! Also when I was 18 I really had no idea how much money that was...
I feel like I shouldn't have been allowed to make a decision like that when I was so young. I wish someone could have sat me down and said...Okay listen, in four years you are going to be so sick of music and all things music education that it will no longer be something you want to do with your life. Yes, you'll always love music, but you will not want to be a music teacher when you're done with this. Though, knowing 18 year old me, I probably wouldn't have listened anyway. Paths change, and eventually they lead you where you're going.
This past year has been beyond insane. I was lost and depressed. I had no idea what I was going to do with my life or how I would get over what happened between John and I. But therapy, and a lot of searching have brought me to social work. I am going to get my Masters degree in Social Work! I will be a therapist and work with individuals, families and children so I can help people get through the difficulties they face in their lives. So all those break downs I had in college when I felt like I didn't want to be a music teacher, and that I wanted to do something more with my life were actually for a reason other than just my insecurities and anxiety issues.
I was accepted into my top choice school and I plan to start the two year program in the Fall. I am soooooooooooooo excited and I can't wait to start! The only thing is the money issue of course...it's a private school so tuition is outrageous, but the program is fantastic. I got the financial aid letter when I got home from work today and I have a small graduate fellowship scholarship, and another big fat federal loan. But that doesn't cover the entire cost of attendance...so somehow I need to find more scholarships, and grants so I don't have to take out another crazy private loan. But since I'm not a minority, Jewish or disabled it's really hard to find any scholarships that I am eligible for. Sorry for being a little harsh, but seriously. I'm just a white girl who needs help paying for school because my family cannot help me.
Also I've been on the job search because I need to get out of this terrible working environment. I feel like for a little while I need to have an office job. Some quiet place where I can have real conversations with adults all day that don't involve poop, instead of singing my ABC's and telling kids not to beat each other over the head with their toys. I've applied to a few jobs with DYFS, the Y, Catholic Charities, and some hospitals but nothing has come through yet. They all want you to have a degree, and experience in a social service/mental health field...understandable. But even receptionist jobs want you to have experience...come on. I know how to answer the phone and schedule appointments. I really don't think I need a years experience for that job. How do you get experience if you can't get a job in it first?
UGH! Okay so I think this is where I stop. Thanks for listening. :)
Friday, January 25, 2013
looney in a laundromat
The other day I was at the laundromat because a girl in my building decided she needed all 10 washers and dryers (who owns that many clothes?!). Anyway, I went to put a cap of bleach in with my clothes, and the owner of the laundromat came over and slapped it out of my hand saying, "you do laundry before??" I randomly started crying, and she said, "what's wrong with you?" Then I did that weird thing kids do when they throw tantrums and they cry so hard that they start choking. She just shook her head and walked away…I'm turning into a crazy person, which somehow I don't think increases my chances of getting a job.
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