you get what you give

I don't want to get all karmic, but I do believe what you put out into the universe you then receive. You get what you give. What goes around comes around. Put your right foot in, take your right foot out.

Today I went to an association management seminar. jealous? (read a la Stewie from Family Guy). I put myself out there. I answered questions posed to the group. I challenged the speakers, I lead discussions at my table of peers. And out of it I connected with a marketing person from a trade association in DC who is going to share all of his membership marketing pieces and strategies with me. Almost a years worth of ideas for simply being present and active.

But does this networking hokey-pokey translate into real (non-work) life? I think so. Does it mean I will only lead a good life if I do good deeds for others? Not necessarily, but I don't think it hurts.

I often see people looking confused on the street with maps or staring up at the 'el with a blank look on their face. I offer to help them. I try to be sure they are headed in the right direction. I think acts like these are repaid when the cowboy who sees me fall flat on my on the sidewalk, picks me and my dinner up. It is repaid by the person who holds the door open for me so I can catch the morning train.

My Dad used to coach me in tennis. He would say, "Visualize hitting the ball. Imagine yourself hitting the ball. A director will often talk about your "mind's eye". These both are referencing the power of positive images. How does this position thinking relate to positive acts in the universe? I need to noodle on this more, but something is going on here.

Don't worry, I am still a cynic, just a philosophical cynic.

good to be home

I felt like Dorthy waiting up at the end of The Wizard of Oz. Tonight I came home - to tech rehearsal. The SM was calling "hold". Actors would say "Thank you 10".

The ASM would be awkwardly in the way as all ASMs are. Our stage manager rocks. She can be nice, but stern and is hilarious (when the time is appropriate). Actors are tired, stressed and in the hands of the designers. I was only sitting from the sidelines, but I felt like I had finally come home. I am peaking in the window, getting ready to tap on the glass. On the Verge, if you will...

Feels great to be home.

words I don't know

palaver
tonsorial
incognita
antipodes
orinoco

Just some of the words that are in my script that I need to:

• learn what they mean
• learn how to pronouce them
• memorize the lines
• figure out how it makes any sense with the rest of the scene

And that is just the first few scenes...Yikes.

helpful tips

• Al=me
• You will never know my true identity.
• When I use full names, I always change them.
• When I use initials, I am referring to reoccurring people in my life.

• If I am interviewing for a job and you found this blog by googling me, please take this as my humorous side - I really am a good employee.

• If I offend, please forgive.
• If I am not funny, please tell me.
• If I am funny, please tell me.

• If you are my parents, I am sorry.

second date

It is 10pm, and I have never been so happy to be back home.

Let me tell you about my second date with Nick.

He meets me on the corner of Armitage and Bissel (no hug, no handshake and am feeling like we have reached an understanding). We walk to his car parked on a side street a block away. He opens the door for me. I lean over and open his door. He gets in and proceeds to lean in for a kiss. I throw up a hand, pull back and say:

Al: I am not ready for the kissing just yet.
Nick: Are you sure?
Al: Uhhh, yeah. (yikes - this is going to be a long night)

We drive to pick up some wine (restaurant is BYOB). He proceeds to tell me about Chilean wine. (okay, lecture 1 has begun, but at least it is about something I am interested in).

We drive to the Costa Rican restaurant in Bucktown. Nice, small, neighborhood place. I think I am going to like it. All this time I have had my phone on vibrate in my back pocket. He puts our name on the waiting list and says he is going to step to the restroom. I take this moment to begin my texting.

Al to J and K: I am in hell.
J to Al: Hang in there
K to Al: Want me to bail you out?

We have dinner. Costa Rican food is quite good. But I have a hard time telling you how it is any different than other South American food. But it is good. Conversation is fairly good. He asks passingly about my rehearsal, I ask passingly about his job. Somehow we cover the subjects of James Bond (lecture 2) Shakespeare's Henry I and II (lectures 2 and 3).

We have flan for desert.

He steps to the restroom. (again? really?) I take the opportunity to text:

K to Al: R U okay?
Al to K: I'm fine. Hopefully it is almost over.

The check comes. We decide to split it. (there is no fighting my suggestion of splitting it. For him to at least fake a "I wouldn't hear of it" is expected - but not done. We both put a credit card down. We keep "talking" (read - lecture). They clear our plates - we keep "talking". I decide it need to take things into my own hands.

Al: Do we pay here or take it up to the register
Nick: I'm not sure.
Al: Well, I am going to step to the restroom. If they don't come back by the time I get back, lets take it up.

I go to the restroom and take the opportunity to text.

K to Al: Don't pucker up. Ha Ha.
Al to K: I already said no.

Check is still there. The waitress comes by - we learn we have to take it up to the register and they are cash only. I pull out a $20. (I have about 6 singles still in my wallet) Thank god I stopped for cash last night. Nick says: "Crap."

He pulls out a five and 3 ones. Eight bucks toward a $35.00 check. But, luckily there is an ATM.

Nick: Well, I'll put all of this in ($8) you can put that $20 and the rest of your singles in. Then I can either walk 4 blocks to the car to scrounge up some change for a tip, or you can go to the ATM.

I am totally stunned. I cannot speak.

I go to the ATM. I take out another $20 (and pay a $4 bank fee). I put my $40 on the table, add some singles for tip. I think we are about set. I hope we are about set.

Then he tells me to take the money up to the register. Then he tells me to be sure to get a bag so he can put the leftover 1/2 bottle of wine in for our walk to his car. Then he tells me to carry his leftovers as we leave the restaurant b/c he needs to carry the wine.

He drives me home. Actually, to the corner of Bissell and Armitage. He pulls up to the hardware store on the corner. I say thank you for showing me a new restaurant and cuisine. (I can't say thank you for dinner b/c I PAID!). I unbuckle my seat belt. He leans in:

Nick: Are we still doing the no kissing no touching thing?
(he kisses me)
Al: Well, I think that is going to be about it. Goodnight.
(i get out of the car as fast as possible)

I can't believe it. I had to say "no" to him kissing me, get lectured about multiple topics, paid for both of our dinners, got kissed again against my will, and still was home cross-stitching by 10pm.

I thought dating was going to be about getting dressed up, getting free meals, and going to movies. This is not what I signed up for...

I don't think there is going to be a third date. Even for practice.

At the ol' ball game!

I, by chance, found myself at Wrigley Field tonight. I was right behind first base, 5 rows behind the Reds dugout. To keep as much of the pain out of it, I will keep the score to myself. Because I am at Wrigley, the players are less than 10 feet in front of me. They were chit-chatting the fans before the game. Now, during the game, there is not so much gabbing.

As they come in from the field at the top of each inning, they toss up the ball to some adorable kid hanging over the dugout. The kid is usually dressed in some Cubs get-up, obviously not a Reds fan, but I guess it would be bad press to tell the kid to shove it.

I am sick of 6 and 10 year old Cubs fans getting all of the face time with MY CINCINNATI REDS. So I begin my plea " I'm from Cincinnati!" It starts quite, just to make a joke to my friends. But then, as the innings go by and bratty Chicago 6 year old Cubs kids tromp up the stairs to their seats with big smiles and a Major League ball, I get more desperate/energized. My plea becomes a chat: "I'm from Cincinnati! I'm from Cincinnati!".

Finally, Ken Griffy Jr catches my chant (one of the few things he caught that night)*. At the top of the 7th inning, he tosses me the ball. The entire area around me cheers. Finally the girl from Cincinnati will shut-up. I am congratulated by Cubs fans all around.

The next time the Reds are going into the dugout, people around me start to yell "I'm from Cincinnati" trying to get them to toss up another ball. I am a semi-celebrity. All because I am from Cincinnati and am proud of it. I left the game saying to all the Reds players, "I know you tried very hard. I will see you on Friday." I am pretty sure they thing I am crazy.

Goodnight from Chicago,


*Jr actually played a decent game, but the joke was there, so I had to take it.