"Is it fun?"

When a friend recently asks, "Is it fun?"I really have to think hard before answering.

The question is regarding my latest job as a background actor, though it's really a stretch to call me an actor.

I've gotten only three jobs since beginning this adventure in November.  Enough to cover about  two cable bills and one electric bill.

A week or so after registering, I get a job in And Just Like That ( Sex and The City re-boot). 

So how fun is this?

I leave my home early (so early) in order to be in midtown by 5:30.

Most of the shoot is outdoors. It's supposed to be spring, so no coats. 

I'm freezing for hours.

I consider quitting but know I'll never work again if I do. So I tough it out.

My second job is in February for Murders in the Building. I'm to be there at 9am, so much better than last time.

But it's in Queens, an area I don't know.

I put the address into Google Maps. Take a subway and then walk about two miles in the wrong direction.

Turns out there is a big difference between 30-40 47th Avenue and 30-40 47th Road.

But the time I arrive, am stressed and my hair looks dreadful from the damp, misty weather.

I wait with other background people who have not yet been called until lunch is announced.

"SAG people first, than non-union." In other words, I'm the lowest rung among a very low rung of background actors.

One of the people I'm waiting with turns out to be someone I knew over twenty years ago when our kids were in grade school. That was kinda fun.

But like a few others, I am never called.

My third acting job is for Gossip Girl. I report at noon. And the location is on the UES. So time and place are great.

I'm a background teacher today.

I mostly sit around in a large room with about 50 others.

I play the NY Spelling Bee.

Do Wordl, Dordle, Quordle, and Octordle.

Read some of The Harbor.

Talk to some really nice people who are also waiting to be called.

And then when I am called, I stand outside pretend-talking to another "teacher" for about 20 minutes.

That's it. The shoot wraps around five.

So, to answer my friend's question, "Is it fun?"

Not really. 

But at least I get paid.

And, the possibility of it being fun does exist. It just hasn't happened yet.

photo shoot

I really need to work. 

And any job I maybe could get I don't want.

Retail? I don't think so. I would never want a job again where I only get paid commission. And oh those returns. It's emotionally draining.

I would be great as a personal assistant. I am compulsively organized. My spreadsheets are mini masterpieces. But I'm pretty sure I would get no satisfaction from organizing some stranger's life.

And of course age is a factor. My years of experience in marketing and management are probably of little value. My degrees no longer matter. 

It's all very upsetting. Because I desperately need an income. Not even a huge one. But something.

Growing up, I always wanted to be an actress. I would practice my Oscar acceptance speech in front of my bedroom mirror. I did some acting when I was young, and later in college. But there were always people imminently more talented than I. So eventually I found a career behind the camera. Though I always loved being close to it.

My good friend Susan is a member of SAG. Last October she signs up to do extra work in movies and TV. She's consistently working. In fact, she recently worked as a stand-in for a major actress whose name you'd recognize. It was a steady, six-week job.

I register with a few places. Even pay one $230 to participate. But I need some photos that are better than the selfies I've taken.

So one day recently Susan comes over. I'd bought a tripod with light attached and we take a bunch of photos. 

Even untouched, these are so much better than the ones I'd taken.

It's nice to have a close friend who's willing to help.

Now I just hope it works.

a sad little story

So, how does the sale of an antique armoire go from my getting $500 to my paying $150?

This is how.

One day, a couple of years ago, I decide that I no longer love the antique armoire I bought in Bridgehampton in 1995.

It takes up too much space in my bedroom. That, and I no longer want an antique-look. I much prefer clean, simple lines. More classic. More modern.

An antique dealer I went to values the piece at $2,800. I'd paid that, plus another $1,000 to have drawers and shelves built-in.

But I have no luck selling it. I keep lowering the price. I list it on Facebook Marketplace and Craig's List.

Then finally, last week, Andrew contacts me and comes over to see it. We negotiate a fair price of $500. But he has to arrange to have the armoire picked up.

I unload the armoire and now have stuff everywhere with no place to put it. And, I hate messes. I'll have to figure something out later.

Today Andrew returns with a friend who has a van. We re-measure the piece and determine it won't fit in his friend's vehicle. He says he'll see if he can find someone else.

He texts me later. 

He's found a mover but it'll cost him another $160. His budget is $500, all in. I drop the price to $400 but won't go below that. He finally agrees. Deal done. The movers will be here at 4:30.

The movers come and they are great. Paul (who owns the company called VanMan Xpress) and one of his workers arrive all smiles.

First, they have to use a dolly to move around some furniture.

They then move the armoire out into the middle of my bedroom. 

But as they go to wrap it, the door falls off the front of the armoire. It's a very old, fragile piece. It takes them a while but they fix the armoire door.

Then they wrap the large piece carefully.

I leave the room as they begin the process of moving it out.

After some time, many grunts, and lots of effort, Paul tells me there's a problem. He is calm and professional. "We can't get the armoire through your bedroom door and then around to the hallway."

They try everything — including taking down my bedroom door and later putting it back on.

Still, it doesn't work.

They turn the unit upside down, sideways, and every way in between.

No luck.

The building handyman comes up and takes a look. His conclusion? "No way is that getting around the corner."

So now what?

At this point I'm hating this piece of furniture. I want it gone.

Andrew is paying the movers $160 and now is ending up with nothing.

There is only one option left. 

Paul agrees to a price of $150. I pay him; Andrew doesn't.  And they begin their work.

Yup, there it is. In pieces. So sad.

Of course this whole saga begs the obvious (yet unanswered) question:

"How did it get in?"

why I stay

For the past two years, really, I haven't done much.

The pandemic and no income have contributed to my relative do-nothing state. In fact, a couple of my NY friends and I have even thought, "Why do we still live here if we're not taking advantage of everything the city offers? Or if not everything, at least some of the things."

I rarely eat out. I don't love museums. I haven't been shopping in ages (food doesn't count). And as for theater? I've been once in over two years.

Yesterday I am sitting at home and decide it would be fun to see The Tina Turner Musical.  I google Tina Turner Musical lottery and find a lottery for the show. It takes less than a minute to complete the entry form.

Less than three hours later I get an email:

I have no idea where my seat is; I just hope it's not rear mezzanine.

It's not.

Just about perfect.  I am close to the stage (which I love) and no one is sitting in front of me. 

The play is good, the lead performer and music are excellent. By the end, the audience is on its feet, dancing along to Simply The Best (one of my all-time favorites, especially after seeing Patrick and David sing it to each other on Schitt's Creek).

The concert-like feel at the end of the show lends itself to people taking out their cameras. 

But it's not an impromptu decision to go see a musical —even at a very inexpensive price — that keeps me here.  

No. 

It's the energy. The diversity. The creative and smart people who live here. It's Central Park. It's walks along the eastside esplanade just steps from my home. It's seeing unusual sites (like dishes on a street being offered up) or unusual people. It's the many opportunities to find, be or do anything.

But maybe most of all, it's a place where I never feel lonely.

Even when I'm not participating in the city's many offerings. I love knowing it's all out there — just a short walk away from where I live.

the perfect birthday gift

Alexander officially starts his new job at Bowery Valuation on March 21. But lucky for me, he's been invited to a company party in NYC where the company is based.

He arrives by noon. I can't remember the last time I've seen him so happy. He loves Austin. His exuberance with his life even extends to NYC. He says he has a new appreciation for how great this city is. Finally.

We spend the afternoon just hanging out. He's sitting in a chair when I look at him, and am stunned by his resemblance to his dad at around the same age. As a friend of mine said (and I agree), " I don't see any of you in him."

Alexander takes me out for dinner. I've wanted to go to Skirt Steak for a while. It opened about a year ago and has gotten great reviews. It's in Chelsea and doesn't take reservations. How busy can it be? 

We wait an hour and 20 minutes. I had no idea the wait would be so long. The last time I waited for anything this long was for my first COVID vaccination a little over a year ago.

The restaurant is known for, and pretty much offers, only one thing: salad, skirt steak, and fries. The food is good, but not worth the wait.

We leave early and arrive home late. 

My son happy and home is the perfect birthday gift.

going gray

Now on a totally meaningless note considering the absolute horrors of the world....

It took almost two full years.

But finally, my hair is all gray.

In early December, I added some highlights.

It is very freeing. 

No more watching the roots grow in after two weeks.

No more having to spend all that money (and time) on coloring.

And no more planning the timing of colorings to coincide with upcoming events (not that there have been many of those recently).

Reactions to my hair have been mixed.

"I love it. It's a great shade of grade. You're so lucky."

"I like it but anyone with gray hair does look older."

"I love the highlights. It now looks finished."

"I don't like the highlights. Too many colors in your hair. Plus, they look yellow. Like really old people sometimes have."

"It looks great."

"I hate it."

Me? I'm not sure.

I love the freedom it gives me. But I look in the mirror and I don't look like me. 

I'm still not done experimenting with different highlights.

And I can always go back. Though that's unlikely. Two years is a long time to be focussed on hair.

long wait

I filed my taxes last year on March 5. 

It was a simple return. Just standard deductions. Nothing unusual or complicated.

I paid what I owed New York State, and then waited for my federal refund. A portion arrived on October 7 and the balance on December 2. Yup, an eight-month wait. Ridiculous.

Today I meet with my wonderful accountant Janet, with whom I've had a decades-long relationship. We meet via phone. There's no need to meet in person. 

Everything's the same as last year. All is quite simple. Little income. Standard deductions.

But Janet does have a question on a pension distribution from GE. I worked at CNBC once upon a time (when GE owned it). She wants to know if a particular portion is taxable. The 1099 indicates it isn't, but she asks me to check.

I call GE. After I go through all the prompts I learn that I am number 46 in the queue. UGH.

It takes almost 137 minutes for a real person to pick up. But they do a good job of letting me know where I am in the queue. Wish all companies did that.

I use the downtime wisely:

• I read the paper.

• Wash all my make-up brushes in case I ever wear make-up again.

• Do today's Wordl. (I'm saving Quordle for later, a game I like better... same rules but instead you need to identify four words).

• Clean the bathroom.

• Have a long conversation with a friend I haven't spoken to in ages.

• Complete the NYT Spelling Bee (today's was easy; my daily goal is to get to Genius without using any four-letter words, somedays it can take the entire day. Then I post my score with the two friends I "play" with every day). 

• Answer some emails.

• Watch the first hour of The Today Show.

When a GE person finally picks up, he answers my question in about five seconds. It happens to be the answer I wanted: not taxable.

Now I hope that I get my federal refund quicker than I did last year.

After all, COVID's over, isn't it? 

Masks are no longer required. 

So that must mean those ubiquitous COVID-excuses are gone too.