Beverley Blog

An Open Letter to Fastrak

noreply@blogger.com (Beverley Viljoen) — Thu, 17 Sep 2009 18:02:00 +0000

Dear Fastrak,

For the last 30 minutes, I've wondered around my apartment trying to articulate my disgust and disdain for you without sounding like an emotional basket-case I once was a few weeks ago. How exactly can I put into words how I feel about you without sounding completely irrational, irate and livid. I can't do it. So, I'm just going to say it.

Fastrak - you're evil. evil. evil evil. evil. evil.

I'm unclear as to why you purposely torture your customers. Is it masochistic pleasure you receive from refusing to fix transponders that are broken? Did you laugh to yourself when your customers get into car accidents that require rental cars that need a transponder you refuse to fix? I bet the real joy comes from sending your customer an EIGHT dollar toll fine she PAID in full that you CASHED, but not before you sent her to a collection agency.

You sent me to collections for EIGHT effing dollars. Do you hold up children at their lemonade stands too? Fastrak, you're a bastard.

Ok, let's not get into name calling - I apologize. I understand that I did have three different addresses in such a short period of time, but if you really processes all that paperwork to send me to collections for eight dollars, you can't bother to fix it after you got my check and cashed it. You act like I hadn't been a customer for FIVE years. We were practically best friends. I was visiting you everyday. I even considered having you in my wedding.

I'm serious fastrak. You have caused me a lot of grief since I've moved to New York. Is this what it's really about? I moved? Well, at this point, I'll never EVER come back to you. I'll just happily wait in line to pay my $12 dollars at the bridge toll because you suck. you suck. you suck.

Love,
Bev

P.S. The Law Enforcement place you sent me too sucks as well...

Just Get Back on the Horse

noreply@blogger.com (Beverley Viljoen) — Wed, 16 Sep 2009 03:31:00 +0000

If you ever feeling really terrible about yourself, NEVER GO TO AN AUDITION! It's just going to make you feel worse watching these young 18 -20 year old girls bouncing around at 6:00 in the @#@$#% morning. Whining about how their pink nail polish chipped on the way to the audition so they put their name on the list and then went home and slept for a few more hours while their punk @$$ friend stayed in the line texting frantically if something changes. Meanwhile, I've been sitting there since the dark hours of 5:30 in the morning patiently waiting by the door with 100 other girls names in front of my own, but these girls are nowhere to be seen. That's right ladies - I WOULD KILL FOR A FEW MORE HOURS OF SLEEP TOO. Alas, I don't really have the luxury to treck back and forth between Harlem and audition the way these other people seem to do. Plus, its really not fair to the people who have been waiting.

While I'd kill for a few more hours of sleep, I think I'd really kill for my equity card. That way I could get up early (8:00) get an audition slot. Stay there and sing or come back and sing. Everything seems to just go a bit smoother when you're actually equity. I need to get my card. I need to get my card. I'm actually not sure how to get it, but I think this is something that I want to be more active and focused on.

I haven't had the courage to go back and audition since my singing abomination, but I have been more aggressive about getting into class and singing with a teacher. I had a pop coaching and she's going to email me a list of rock/pop songs to put in my rep book. I'm looking forward to start working on that new material.

I really can't think about auditioning right now. I've been at it all day. I just need a break

Singing Abomination

noreply@blogger.com (Beverley Viljoen) — Thu, 10 Sep 2009 21:15:00 +0000

Ever want to die right on the spot?

You know, that lingering feeling that death is the only eminent thing that could possibly make whatever you're going through at that moment any better? I guess death doesn't have to be the only solution. I'm sure one could strip off all their cloths and run a muck turning over tables and waiting for some hot police officer to come in cuff 'em and get thrown in the back of the cop car. Then one might get tortured with "waffle facing" and what not - just not worth it. Go big or go home. Pray for death.

That moment just happened to me. It's definitely been a few hours later, but I can't seem to shake off the embarrassment.

I woke up in the early hour of noon knowing I had a voice lesson at 2pm in Harlem. I had a great lesson with my teacher who I used to sing with once a week in San Francisco and now I it's more like once a quarter because she can't travel to NYC that often. However, it was very great to see her and I think I really made some headway in singing. She re-energized me vocal exercises to get these new habits in my body. My tongue is caught in the back of my throat and so I get around my break-e, eflat, f -and sound all throaty, hooty, covered and dark. It's just really bad. Since I had a good lesson, I thought I would go down to "In the Heights" audition and see if I could crash the equity call.

It's 4pm now and I go in. I ask the equity moniter if any of the non-equity people are being seen. He said, "We saw about 90 and then she decided that she wants to see your headshot and resume and she'll decide if she wants to hear you." So I gave him mine, and he came out to tell me that she does want to see me and I'm next.

For those of you who aren't familiar with the show, it's a rock/pop show. I was supposed to sing 16 bars of a pop/rock song. I'M TERRIBLE AT POP

uuuuh... I'm in kaki's and a brown shirt. Usually people are wearing skirts, dresses, and looking like it's fashion show instead of an audition. I didn't have any makeup on and he says - honey you have such a natural beauty you really don't need any make up.

I went in and thanked them for seeing me.

I should have turned around and walked out because I went to he accompanist. Gave her my 8 bar cut and I couldn't hear my part. My notes. I was a complete disaster. I opened my mouth and the in the first two measures I sang EVERY NOTE WRONG. WRONG AND BADLY. So badly that I stopped singing and said I'm sorry I have to start over. Of course that's a big big no-no in the singing world.

BUT THEN.

I sang it wrong again.

I knew there was no going back and fixing it so I just pushed through the rest of the 8 bars. I looked at her and you should have seen her face. She said to me with her eyes - please please please please please stop singing. I'll do anything. Her hand was in her hair and I SWEAR I saw her pull on it.

I have to face it. I'm not good at pop. I really suck at pop and everytime I try to sing it - I fall flat. I wish I could have run across the table and pulled my headshot from her hot little hands so she wouldn't remember my name. I have got to figure out this style of singing otherwise I'm gonna die here in New York.

Sirens Squeaks and Sobbing

noreply@blogger.com (Beverley Viljoen) — Tue, 08 Sep 2009 11:24:00 +0000

My crazy is starting to reach new levels of crazy. I know that to some of you that doesn't seem possible, but I can assure you i am speaking the truth. Let's take last week as a prime example.

I spent a few days in Philly to visit a very close friend of mine, and I hadn't seen my sweetheart, Mike, since I left just wanted to clarify that I left on Monday morning and returned on Tuesday night. I had to directly go to work when I returned because I was closing the restaurant. Mike happened to have that night off, so, he was going to meet me at home and we'd go uptown together.

At ten I get a text from him that says- I can't make it by 11 tonight cause the tech guys are working on my computer and they have been working since 6pm.

One would have thought he said - I don't want anything to do with you Beverley so I purposely wasted my entire afternoon and called the tech guy at exactly 9pm just so I could purposely avoid hanging out with you because I had an emotinal break down in my brain.

I responded with - what?!? You don't want to see me tonight?!

Of course I do! I'll just meet you uptown.

No response.

11pm and I say I just got off work I'll talk to you later.

The text gave him a warranted unwelcome feeling so he called me at 12am after receiving 20 nasty where are you text messages and you purposely broke your computer to avoid seeing me text messages.

"I thought you didn't want me to come over?"
"Did I SAY that?"
"No, but... Ok, I'm coming over"
"no, don't bother now. You're only coming over cause I'm upset. If you wanted to come over you would have already been here by now."
insert unspoken curse words clearly directed towards me.
"I'm coming over. "

He arrives to find me weeping in my bed. I continued the uncontrollable sobbing for at least 30 minutes.

C-R-A-Z-Y. Oh, but the story gets better.

The next morning I awoke feeling hungover with embarrassment at my behavior from the night before. My roommate had already left for the day and Mike left for work at 2pm. I got ready for work and left the house at 4pm because I was closing again.

6pm I get a text from my roommate: I'm so sorry. I can't find the cat. I have been searching for 30 min and I can't find her anywhere. I am so sorry.

I was working so I didn't get the message until an hour later. Not knowing how to respond I texted Mike with "oh honey." He promptly responded with " I know. I'm on it." My roommate was apologizing so I thought maybe she left the door open but she hadn't. So, maybe Squeaks couldn't bare my crazy and jumped out the window.

Turns out my roommate called the bomb squad to come and find the cat. A friend from upstairs came down to search every corner of the house. Mike comes tearing down the road in his patrol car sirens blazing from the south Bronx. The friend found her just as Mike arrived on the scene.

She was trapped in my bottom dresser drawer.

Yup. I closed her in while I was getting ready for work. I think I'm getting close to check me in crazy. I swear it was an accident. Please don't call animal services. I love my cat and I had NO idea she was in there.

Mike told me later that he was worried if something had happened to her it would have been to much of a mental strain to my already wavering mental stability. I only have one more week of this crazy and I should return to normal. Well, as normal is obviously a loosely defined term.

Someone is Always Crazier.

noreply@blogger.com (Beverley Viljoen) — Mon, 07 Sep 2009 17:04:00 +0000

Working in the restaurant business has lead to meeting the strangest type of characters. For instance tonight green suite actor man walks into the restaurant and he promptly sits at the bar. Luckily, I didn't have to serve him, but I got to hear his stories first hand from my friend - the bartender. He orders a drink and pulls his wad of 1 dollar bills crumpled up in his pocket and spends at least 10 minutes counting out 9 dollars. During this transaction, he asks her where she is from. Discovering her hometown once simply was not enough. In her return he asks her again and she politely reminds him that he already asked her. We then find out that he has short term memory problems and wants to know what film we last saw him in. Averting all interaction with crazy mccrazyson, we hang out at the other end of the bar. At some point I had to go into the kitchen to run food out to my tables. I walk by and he grumbles after me "how can she not recognize me. "

crap.

I knew I had to walk by him again and there was no way around it. This time he stopped me with a barking sound that I think resembled a hello. He mumbled at me and I couldn't understand so I awkwardly chuckled and ran away. The bartender then informed me that he was filming a movie today so his mumblings must have something to so with preserving his voice. Clearly, he over used it in the shoot this afternoon

My favorite type of crazy is the cheating sex couple that always seem to come in while I'm working.

This girl came in once at the beginning of my shift and told me that she was waiting for someone. The middle aged hunched over balding man came into the restaurant soon after. I'm a little unclear if this start to their evening was a staged get away from work followed by a staged entrance into the restaurant like no one there would notice they were sitting together. In fact, it was impossible to advert your eyes from this particular couple. From the start they sat super close to each other which is fine but after the third beer in the necking began. I'm not talking about a cute hi- honey -I -love -you -I'm -going -to -show -you- how-much-I- love- you. It's more like -the -disgusting- shoving -tongue- down- her- throat- which- I'm -sure- caused- drool- to -stream-down- her- face- I- wanna- throw -up -in- my -mouth- type of necking. I am not exaggerating when I say that at one point she was standing between his sitting legs and he was starting to caress her chest with his mouth at least the part of her chest that was showing in her low cut blouse. I refused to go over there and serve them because I was scared of what I'd really see if I went over there. I thought maybe if I didn't serve them they would leave. Every once in awhile, he would call out to me from across the room. He didn't want me over there just as much as I didn't want to go over there. I noticed that they both each wore wedding rings and they obviously weren't married to each other because any normal sensible couple would have spared the rest of the people in the joint and gone home to their house and played restaurant. There are plenty of hotels in new York and fat annies isn't one of them. When he finally asked for his check he asked me how much. I replied - for the food or the show? Ok fine. I didn't say that but I really really wanted to.

How do these people look at themselves in the mirror the next day? At the very least it makes for good entertainment. Next time I'll speak of the ones who try and hit on the waitress.

Two Trains and a Cab Drive Later...

noreply@blogger.com (Beverley Viljoen) — Wed, 02 Sep 2009 19:06:00 +0000

Living in Harlem and heading to the lower East Side to hang out proves to be difficult with every attempt. Sunday night was no exception and being a weekend made the trip even more difficult. First of all, the only trains that cross from the west to the east side are the blue line E, the M60(bus) and the grey S (shuttle between 42nd Times Square to 42nd Grand Central Station - an obviously comfortable non crowded route serving breakfast with each trip ) or the dreaded phantom L train that never seems to arrive. The electronic board flashes "Brooklyn bound leaving in 0 min" for at least 15 minutes before the train even arrives. Thus, the treck to the lower East side begins and ends with one million transfers. The value of the location is often determined by the length of the jounrney traveled to get there.

My roommate recently returned from working at a kids theater summer camp in Lennox, MA. In her return, she brought new and exciting friends who happen to live on the East Side. In an effort to get to know the recently planted frineds, I attepted the journey to enjoy the east side. With a successful arrival, I embraced the laugh fest evening over two cocktails and great company. However, the 12:30am departure ruined the evening because it took 10 years of my life just to get home especially with the extra side of crazy the subway brought to my journey.

My roomate and I waitred for teh F train for literally 45 min. In that time we had crazy #1 listen to our conversation about travel and promptly interupted us to answer my mind musings I was sharing with my friend. He replied, "Get off at West 4th Street" with such a loud authority it was tough to ignore his presence. Thus a much desired silence from our unwanted conversationalist came only when we stopped talking to each other which made the wait for our train last an eternity. 50 min later we arrived at West 4th street to wait for the A train to get uptown. My roommate just haaaaad to remind me that we had gone about 3 blocks and a few avenues that we could have probably walked if we put any thought into our trip home. Here we met crazy #2 who had her two young children in toe at 1:30am on a Sunday evening. In the running for mother of the year, obviously. She asked three times how to get to grand central station from where we were located. She hovered over the gentleman sitting next to me admiring his piercings managing to barley catch her seven year old from putting a nacho in her mouth that had touch the lip of the trash can next to the cracked out toothless homeless gentleman visibly salivating over the plump seven year old herself or the disgusting mangled plate of what could only be nachos she just threw away.

Please.get.me.out.of.here.

The A train finally arrived and we met crazy person #3. Much like crazy #1, he had to join in our conversation. He responded to my roommates question of - "do you think Julie wants her coffe table back when she moves?" Crazy #3 launched into a detailed desercription of an armour we could have if we were interested. Our stop could not arrive fast enough.

Finally we see the 100's and our train stops at 103. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO...... Really? We're really going to stall out between stops here? Yes, that's exactly what were are going to do. Apparently, there were workers on the track but I only discovered that when one of them either got clipped by the subway or banged on the window that I happened to be sitting by. Tattoo face laughed hard at my visible jump and my fatigue vanished in two seconds with a yelp that accompanied my jump.

2am arrived and we finally came above ground. Still 5 stops away from our stop, I put my friend in a cab to finish the treck uptown considering our neighbor hood is increasingly unsafe with muggings in our building, drug deals on our stoop, random cat calls to send chills and a broken lock on my door from months past. This is why I convinced my sweetheart to move to the west side since I'd rather pull out my eyelashes then head to the east side.

I then headed over to my sweetheart's place after the dreaded public transport trip contemplating whether or not saving the money for a cab was really worth it.

Sometimes you have to love New York.

Crazy is Overwhelming.

noreply@blogger.com (Beverley Viljoen) — Wed, 02 Sep 2009 04:12:00 +0000

My current boss once told me (in reference to serving tables) - just say it and then let it go. I'm going to apply the same theory here.

I recently re-read my blog again and noticed I write mostly when I'm sad or struggling. I made a choice to try and avoid the musings of a super sad heart, and while I'd like to think that's the reason I have avoided writing the past difficult 7 months, the truth is I've avoided writing because I don't want to write about how unsuccessful, lonely and depressed I've felt here in New York.

I wanted to define the way I use the word "lonely" I have met amazing people and spent great time with people out here in NYC. People who will remain part of my life in future years including my new best friend and partner in whom I find most of my NYC joy. I just miss my CA friends so much. I don't even miss my "life" in SF. While I do love the location, the constant absence of my friends leaves a hole in my heart that can't be filled and is eating me alive right now. I often find myself thinking and wishing their presence remained in my daily life. In truth, I didn't anticipate the absence to slowly become as destructive as it has the past few months. It's worse because I hardly talk to any of them. Not as much as I thought it would and it's killing me. Ok, well, it's torturing me.

I've also gained a lot of weight. A noticeable amount of weight. Enough weight that hardly any of my cloths fit including the cloths that I wore when I didn't feel in the best shape. Enough weight that has made me divert my eyes when I catch glimpses of myself in the mirror or see pictures of myself. I'm in no shape good for my body and I'm mad at myself for getting to this point. My age and drop in metabolism has made it much more difficult to lose unwanted weight as it has in the past. This is destroying my self-esteem and ruining my motivation. So, I can't bring my "lazy" self to work out and I get so mad at myself for it so I continue to eat crappy. A vicious cycle.

Then there is performing. I've sung the same song for the past 7 months. It's obviously not working, so, naturally I should learn more material. Yet, I have noway to work it that will comfort my perfectionistic mind. So, I'm continuously singing the same unperfect song. Another viscous cycle.

A contributing factor to my increasing misery is my brand of hormone pill. I'm on a different brand which I started 8 months ago and I haven't been able to adjust yet. I'm feeling extremes of emotions and I can't control my reactions even while I know it's happening and I know that I'm over reacting.

So, I'm basically caught in two vicious cycles while being an "emotional grab bag." I'm crazy. It's the bottom line. Going crazy slowly at least. I have moments of clarity and I fight to sustain my sanity but often fail miserably. My sweetheart has been amazing with his patience from God, but I know my time is ticking and I will eventually wear on him. There can only be so many melt downs in the kitchen, screaming fits in the living room and sobbing fests while shooting a nerf gun at the wall.

What am I going to do? Embrace this moment of clarity, face this haunting dark crazy and remind myself of all the joy life and New York has brought me. I found my sweetheart - a blessing. I found a job in a tough economy that I didn't have much experience in and it's perfect for auditioning. Another blessing. I am experiencing living more than two hours away from where I was raised. I'm also going to actively search for a creative outlet to sustain me while I continue to audition. Most importantly, I'm going to change my hormone, eat better and work out. Hopefully, those drastic changes will drastically change my mood and return my motivation.

Summation

noreply@blogger.com (Beverley Viljoen) — Mon, 24 Aug 2009 14:14:00 +0000

of the last few months....

So, I interviewed with the restaurant from the open call and started training there that following Wednesday after Valentines Day back in February. I immediately got swept in the whirl wind restaurant business discovering that I SUCKED at waiting tables. It's so much harder than anyone really gives it credit for and the nightmares began. I still haven't managed to conquer the work dreams, but I've finally gotten a handle on serving tables. I knew that I'd get it and that it would just take me some time, but many days I already felt defeated and I hadn't even begun.

I'm dating someone new. I haven't expressly asked for his permission to disclose any information about him on the Internet. So, I'm withholding until I ask him because unlike the ones before he will read what I'm writing about. Nevertheless, he's a perfect partner to my crazy. We work and I'm happy.

I'm still auditioning but I was really sick for 6 weeks and then the summer came causing everything to slow down here in New York. I moved here knowing it was going to be hard. Yes, even THIS hard.

I've gone back to Florida to visit my family including my nephew and my brand niece. One of my visits included my brand new boyfriend, which I think went well.

I went back to California for a wedding and to visit all my friends and I really miss them all. Especially because I don't really talk to many of them - at least not as much as I used to it.

aaaaaand that's really it. I haven't done much else except eat my face off so now I'm fat.

The Ghost of Christmas past returns?

noreply@blogger.com (Beverley Viljoen) — Sat, 22 Aug 2009 19:18:00 +0000

Hi Internet. I sheepishly return to the keyboard asking myself if I do in fact remember how to type on it... Will I stay for good?
I don't know. I'm conflicted.

I returned to my favorite blogger dooce and discovered that I do miss writing about my comings and goings regardless if anyone does actually read it. I remembered how much I actually love the computer and how much I loved reading all about the life of Heather, John and Leta Armstrong. I soon discovered how much I have actually missed in their life and felt saddened by my own absence. Then I asked myself why I haven't written anything on my blog. (here comes the conflicted part) I suppose I have moments of - uuuuuuuhhhhhh what do I write? I'm here in New York scrambling to get make ends meat as a waitress. I live in a not so nice part of harlem and auditioning just gets harder and I haven't heard anything? Is that really interesting? Am I just highlighting my struggles or what some my construe to be my failures?

Perhaps, but I'm going to brave it.

So, I'm here Internet confessing that the past 6 months have been hard and I can sum up what I've done in 3 uninteresting sentences. Yet, here I sit in the sweltering heat of my non air conditioned apartment in the middle of August turning over a new leaf committing myself to write about my adventures.

Another thing about New York...

noreply@blogger.com (Beverley Viljoen) — Wed, 11 Mar 2009 01:32:00 +0000

....is the distinct difference in gentleman-ness towards women here.

Walking home from the grocery store today I carried a cart full of groceries, my laundry, my purse and another plastic bags with eggs to keep them from getting crushed when some gentleman pulls his car over and offers to help me carry my stuff to my door. He said, "Need any help? I'm just trying to be a gentleman?" Granted I know it was only because he thought highly of my womanly features because when I replied no thank you and yes, I'm sure I'm fine to his many reattempts to help, he says, "You take care of your pretty self." Smiling and flattered I walked away thinking - if a guy thought I was hot walking down the street in San Francisco, I'd be lucky to get a horn honk and a screaming -"Hey Baby"

Winter in New York

noreply@blogger.com (Beverley Viljoen) — Wed, 04 Mar 2009 03:53:00 +0000

When visiting Lexie in August ’08, she took me to one of her favorite spots in New York where she would go if she felt remotely homesick. I didn’t really understand what that felt like until I moved here, and now I have a favorite walk. Sure, most normal people have a favorite spot, but I am restless. Thus, I have a favorite walk.

Walking from the green line (4 or 6 east side) to the blue line (A,C,E west side) from the 59 stop. If you’re starting the walk from the east side, you’re standing at 59 and Lexington, which is in the middle of shopping land including Bloomingdales, Nine West, Steve Madden and many other stores for the retail soul. I walk on 59th Street with Central Park to my right finishing at Columbus Circle. Yesterday, I started the walk at Columbus Circle and walked to the east side and then through the park back to Columbus Circle. I felt like I missed winter being consumed with moving, job hunting, auditioning and settling into the comforts of Harlem. So, I welcomed yesterday’s blizzard leaving behind ten inches of snow that New York residents hope will be enough for work to deem a snow day to curl up in the arms of their lovers.

On my walk there is this bridge. It’s my favorite part of the walk, and I see this bridge in the park in all seasons. I hope to take this same picture for all seasons, but here my friends is New York in the winter:

This is a picture I took standing on my favorite bridge looking at my walk:

Here are some more shots I took in Central Park, but I left out the pictures of people illegally tubing and cross-country skiing mostly because my frozen fingers were dealing with text messaging.

While auditioning for a season...

noreply@blogger.com (Beverley Viljoen) — Sun, 22 Feb 2009 06:28:00 +0000

My last post was brought to you while sitting in the Les Miserables audition, and I’ve discovered that sitting at auditions are the time that I get the most downtime to write. Auditioning in New York is extremely brutal. This is how the Les Miz audition went:

I got at the studio at 8:00am and put my name on the list. I was number 284 only to be followed by 200 more girls asking to be put on the list. By the time the audition started at 10:00am, 500 girls had signed up for the audition. They did not want to type out so they broke the list into groups of 30 people and put people into a room and lined us up in three lines of 10. They taught us two lines of “Lovely Ladies” and then went down the line one by one singing as much of the 12 bars as he saw fit. Then he kept people as he saw fit to stay and sing some more. I got to stay and sing Cosette in the same fashion as before. 30 girls lined up learned two lines of her song and then kept. I got cut after the first call, but at least I got called. The ladies sitting next to me didn’t. I know they were being particular and I still have faith that my time will come for something. After all, this is just my 4th audition. I’ve been here four weeks. It’s going to take time.

In other news, I got a job. Actually, I got two. I’ve started this marketing internship for a known Broadway producer. I’m helping him get his start-up off the ground which is pretty fantastic. I can’t say much about the work I’m doing for it is a start-up and I have signed a NADA. Yet, I think this will be a great opportunity for me should it work out.

I also got my waitress job. I’m currently working at Fat Annie’s in NYC. It’s a great great great place to get some real waitress experience instead of catering only. It is a restaurant described as southern comfort style cuisine. Yesterday was my first day. Here are a couple of things I have to get used to: 1) Ketchup. 2) Standing on my feet 3) Getting out of my comfort zone. The smell of ketchup makes me vomit. I touch it and I think I smell like it ALL DAY LONG. I hate ketchup everything about it. The taste, the smell, the look and in fact if ketchup and mosquitoes disappeared from this earth, I would be a very very very happy woman. I would go as far as to say that those two things are the worst things ever. I mean ever. Everyone who works there so far is very nice and the work seems to come very quickly to them. Right now, I’m in training so my schedule is not on the books. I don’ t know what my schedule is. Everyday that I go in I just get put back on the schedule for my next training day. I’m working on memorizing the menu, but I got home last night and I wanted to collapse. It was 8:30pm and they put me on a double. I had been there since 10:30am on my feet. Serving is going to be fine. I think I will do fine.

And so begins the delicate balance between working for survival and surviving in the theatre; both a daunting task. Take today for example. I woke up at 4:30am by the sound of the battery dying in the carbon monoxide detector which I tried to sleep through but that didn’t happen. My alarm went off at 5:00am and I got changed and headed to the audition arriving with my roommate at 6:47am. I am number 123 and she is 124. This means that I potentially will not be seen before I have I need to be at work at 1pm to work in the marketing place for a few hours. Then I’m off to work the dinner shift at 5pm till closing. So I’ve been up since 4:30am and I won’t get home until 12am. Thus, I learned a very valuable lesson about open non-equity calls. You must get here at 6am. MUST MUST MUST. Well, if you want to be seen early then you want to be here at 6am. Something that is potentially disturbing me about waitress is that it is just as difficult to get to auditions if you’re working a lunch shift and need to be there at 10:30am. Then, if you are working a double, you’re there for 12 hours and forget about getting to any audition. If I wanted to work those type of days than I could get an office job from 10:30am until 7pm and call it a job. Flexible is hard to find and in this economy I should just be happy that I HAVE a job. It’s part of the reason these audition calls are incredibly brutal. Everyone is out of work including actors non equity and equity. 300+ people are showing up to these auditions to these open calls. All things I know and knew before I moved here but it sure is one thing to hear it versus experiencing it. I’m trying desperately to let it go. To know that whatever is meant to happen will happen. That all I can do is my very best before I burn out, and hope that all things will fall into place. I know this will happen but my mental energy is starting to get sucked up. How long will I be able to keep up working these 15 hour days with little to no rest? Don’t get my wrong. I’m not discouraged. I’m not complaining. I actually feel motivated and energized sitting here waiting for my chance to sing and surrounded by people who talk about their upcoming auditions. I love that. I’m living the life I dreamed about since I graced the stage in ’98. Now it is time to get out of these open call lines by getting my equity card and getting some gigs.

Can we talk about the audition room for a second? First of all, it’s so packed. SOOOO packed. People are sitting wherever there is space, and it’s difficult to even dream about walking through the sea of human bodies to the door to get to the bathroom. At the Les Miz audition, I got called to sing, and I stepped on someone’s foot to get to the table. I felt terrible about it, but really I thought it was her bag. I had to step SOMEWHERE and the floor was covered. The room is also like a wannabe red carpet room. You should see some of the things that women wear! One of the girls was wearing a purple dress that you could see her boob from her profile. Really? What on are these woman thinking? I would never wake up and think – let me put on no clothes. Ok, I have to go and focus on what to sing. I need to start focusing on this audition and seeing if I can wiggle my way to be seen before 12:30pm.

A Day in New York

noreply@blogger.com (Beverley Viljoen) — Thu, 12 Feb 2009 13:33:00 +0000

In the last two days I discovered why people often type New Yorkers to be rude, mean and inconsiderate. New Yorkers are not rude, mean and inconsiderate; other people here lack common sense which is very difficult to tolerate.

I should have known that the last two days were going to be difficult when I woke up on Tuesday morning to discover my roommate's cloths strewn about the couch destroyed by the bleach at the laundry mat with notes from screaming WTF?!?!?! We sat on the couch for the morning commiserating about our lack of jobs, auditions and I tried to console her about her ruined clothes. Trying to find the comedy in our tragic story, I got a phone call for a hostess interview and I had to be on the east side by 2pm.

Great. I hopped in the shower and checked hopstop to figure out how to get there. It's tricky because I'm west and north of Central Park and getting to the east side takes two - maybe three - trains to get to that side. I had to take the D to Yankee Stadium and then transfer to the 4. Now, the B and D run on the same line. The A and the C run on the same line. If you're going downtown, these 4 lines essentially stop at the all the same stops but not if you're going NORTH. Well, I'm an idiot and I didn't discover that until I hopped on the C got off at 161 and discovered that this not a Yankee Stadium stop. So, I had to GO BACK to 145 and get back to the D.

Crap. I'm walking quickly to the station and this person in front of me was lollygagging up the stairs. Not only was she lollygagging, she was TAKING OVER THE SUBWAY STAIRS. I heard the train pull up and I'm doing everything I possibly can to get around her. I almost pushed her, but then I saw the train close the doors and go by. ARGH! ARGH! YOU MADE ME MISS MY TRAIN YOU LOLLYGAGGER YOU!!! It was the D too, so, I had to wait another 20 minutes for the D to arrive. I left at 1pm, and it's now 2pm. A whole 60 minutes to go two stops? I'm still in Harlem and it's been 60 minutes? Oh man where is that lollygagger?!?! The D finally arrived and I got to Yankee Stadium which was filled with lollygaggers. FILLED! MOVE OUT OF MY WAY I NEED TO GET TO THE FOUR PLATFORM!!!! Guess it's Murphy's law because I got to the top of the stairs just as the doors were closing for the 4. It just isn't my day. It's now 2:30. I'm still in Harlem and I was so supposed to be there at 2:15pm.

Yes, of course I called.

I get to the restaurant at 2:50 pm. Luckily for me, they really weren't honoring appointments. It was a free for all essentially and people just waited in line for a job. Already flustered I listened to the interview before me, and this girl with five years experience as a server was interviewing before me. I'm late, flustered and feeling defeated and they call me to the table. I interviewed like crap and decided to do some retail therapy. It didn't help because I have no job and I refused to spend any unnecessary money.

Yesterday, I went to an open call for a serving position. Over 100 people showed up and four people were shuffling through the applicants. My roommate and I met this amazing new friend Beau. The three of us each interviewed with different people. My interview went really well, and I think I have a chance at this job. She said she was going to call me on Friday, so, I'm not going to say anything until something is for sure. Until then I'm going to continue to look for a job!

Finally - I got to sing.

noreply@blogger.com (Beverley Viljoen) — Tue, 10 Feb 2009 14:12:00 +0000

A Little Night Music in Florida held auditions in New York on Sunday. So, I sent in my headshot and resume in. A couple days later - I got an appointment!

F-I-N-A-L-L-Y!

I keep going to these equity auditions to wait for hours only to be turned away by a scoffing hand. Thank goodness for that paper EMC card - I'm going to laminate it.

Anyway, I got to the audition and they were running an hour behind. After waiting 5 plus hours to sing a measly 16 bars of music, 1 hour seemed like a drop in the bucket - a mere hour I happily waited through. I think I had been starving to sing for so long the anticipation started to eat at me a little bit and not in "I'm nervous way." My anticipation felt more like: let-me-in-there-right-now-to-sing-these-sixteen-bars-of-music-or-I'm-going-to-BURST! Luckily, I had all day to warm up slowly and practice my material. Thus, I finally felt warm and ready to sing when it my turn came.

I walked in. I introduced my song and sang the end of "If I Loved You."
He said, "That was fantastic." Did you hear that? He said it was fantastic.. fantastic...fantastic...people in NYC don't use that word. This was supposed to be the audition that spit me up and chewed me out. My first audition was supposed to make me question why I ever moved, why I ever even had the inclination that maybe just maybe I could sing for a living and none of that happened. He said, "fantastic."

But...

He also said I was too old for the role.
That i was great to meet me and thanked me for singing for them today.

I'm NYC. Win some miss most, but he said it was fantastic. I am going to take that away from the audition because it pretty much is an amazing compliment. I keep saying it - my time is coming, and it IS. I just want it to come NOW! Ok fine, how about......... now?

My First New York Audition

noreply@blogger.com (Beverley Viljoen) — Sat, 07 Feb 2009 15:49:00 +0000

I’m not sure if I’ll be able to call this my first NYC audition because I’m not sure if I’ll get seen since I am a non-equity at an equity call, and I did go to that West Side Story Audition. Ok, let’s call this my first audition since living here. I posted on my facebook today that I was going to auditions today. I’m so blessed to have this incredible network of friends and family that love me and support me because I got here and already had a million text messages showering me with love and confidence. I couldn’t help but wonder as I stepped off the subway at 6:30am dressed to the nines how long it will take to get old. By “get old” I mean, the thrill of auditioning, the getting up at 5:00am to get to an audition you may not be seen at, the constant waiting, the love and support – essentially all of it. Will I write on my facebook status- 702566788347 audition? Yes, I probably will. I love this room. I love this environment and I don’t mind the waiting.

I learned a couple of really important things:

I’m at an Equity call in the equity office. Equity is the union for actors and stage managers. If you are apart of this union, you are considered a professional actor. You no longer can audition for unpaid shows. Non-Equity folks can show up to audition, but you may or may not be seen. So I had been advised to show up first and early.

When I arrived at 6:30am, I discovered that four lists exist and you should find out what list you must sign up for before you get there. 1) Equity with appointments. 2) Equity without appointments. (alternatives) 3) EMC (Equity Membership Candidate) 4) Non-Equity. The class hierarchy is pretty much amazing. There is an equity lounge that is moniterd. Noone can pass the monitor unless they show their equity card or EMC card. In this lounge there are woman dressing rooms, pillars with mirrors, bathroom, comfortable chairs, plugs and information on other auditions – actors haven. If you’re non-equity, you’re sitting in the hall on these skinny little brown benches that make your butt go numb within ten minutes of sitting and you’re not allowed to use the bathroom.

No, I’m serious.

If you’re non-equity and you have to use the bathroom, you have to walk outside of the building and around the corner to the McDonalds. It really blew my mind but I’m not kidding you. It’s true.

Anyway, it just so happens I had to wait until 10am to go into the equity lounge because I had not picked up my EMC card yet, and the office didn’t open until then. Once I got my card, I thoroughly enjoyed my time sitting and waiting in equity lounge only to discover that at 12:00pm that EMCs will not, in fact, be seen.

It’s ok. I know it’s a tough market but what’s it going to take to be seen?! This is the second time I’ve gone out there and the second time I haven’t had a chance to sing. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not discouraged ALREADY! I’m just eagerly awaiting my turn. It’s coming. I know it.

Chapter 4 – New York, New York

noreply@blogger.com (Beverley Viljoen) — Fri, 06 Feb 2009 17:25:00 +0000

The much-needed family visit was a success. Despite my misfit feelings I didn’t know I’d have to combat for as long as have and for as long as I currently foresee, I enjoyed spending time with my family. I never got to celebrate the soon-to-be arrival of Mr. Logan Joos, but with Ms. Lily Joos, I got to share in the joy of her almost birthday which is currently scheduled for March 12th.

Mom and I arrived in New York, New York on Monday, January 19, 2009. Eagerly anticipating my new apartment I had yet to see, we jumped into a cab and promptly gave him my street and the street crossing. It took at least three repeats for this cab driver to figure out where exactly we were going. This should have been my first clue.

My mom, four suitcases, a guitar, my cat and I arrived to my new apartment in Harlem at 10:30am and patiently waited for my roommate to arrive with my key. During the hour we waited, we managed to get into the “lobby” of my apartment complex which is about the space of two people standing in between two glass doors. Mind you – it’s snowing and we’re freezing. I noticed quickly that the bottom glass section of the door was completely shattered, so, I decided to check out the place. Well, at least see the front of my door.

I walked through the door and immediately suffocated by the smell of urine located – only God knows where, and I noticed the punched holes in the wall of the hall. My ears flooded with a screaming child, and a barking dog as I stared down at the concaved rock/marble/granite mismatched concaved stairs. Careful not to let any part of my clothing touch the now dirt filled walls, I walked to the third floor to see the door of what I would soon call home. My door is a metal door luckily enough to have a peep hole but slightly resembling the front of a single cell prison door. I half expected to see a police officer guarding the entrance. Feeling hopeless, I walked back towards my cat and my mom trying to shake the images of Basketball Diaries and my luxurious apartment in San Francisco.

Holding back tears and trying to safe face for my mom, my roommate arrived and handed me the keys to the apartment, and so began my journey in New York.

For the record, I am describing to you how I felt then and not how I feel now – 20 days later.

The apartment inside is so cosy and endearing. Yes, it is a hobbit hole. Yes, we call it the shire. Yes, we call my room “Fort Bev.” Yet, it is a home- my home - a home with all my stuff in it. I got to sleep in my bed, which I haven’t slept in for four months. It has a living room with two bookcases, a piano, a futon, a window. It has a little tiny kitchen with a half size stove that can only be opened when my bedroom door is closed. My room has my queen-sized bed lofted, but I can’t stand underneath it. The bed takes over the entire bedroom and one must “scoot” past the start of my bed frame that takes over 90% of my doorway to get to the closet and really the only spot in my entire room that one can stand up in. Seriously, I live in a closet with a bed in it. ☺ Despite my description, it’s really not that bad. I actually kinda love it. It’s small, cute, with a piano, a great roommate and my bed. It’s really just perfect for my first New York apartment.

The first week went by extremely quickly, I finally understood what “New York minute meant because a week went by and it felt like a day. My mind could not rest even at 4am in the morning because there was so much to focus on - to think about - to hope for.

It’s my time. This is going to take some time, but it is my time.

Chapter 3: The Road Trip

noreply@blogger.com (Beverley Viljoen) — Fri, 16 Jan 2009 04:24:00 +0000

Day 1
The past 10 days have been filled with last minute details, packing, long drawn out goodbyes and tears. Lots and lots of tears.
However, the 4 day road trip started this morning at 9:20 am this morning after a fun filled evening with some dear friends, a sleepless night, and a tearful family "see you later."

I drove the first leg of the trip to Buttonwillow (took me to my junior high days). We stopped at Subway, which we discovered was owned by two guys named Nick and Rainy. Rainy? Really- was it rainy that day? I mean the poor kid. :) I walked into Subway, and I said, "May I please have an six inch Italian Spicy on the Italian Herb." She said, in this order, "What kind of bread? Would you like a six inch? The BLT of the Spicy?" I jumped over the counter and turned her hearing aid up.

We proceeded towards Flagstaff and witnessed a beautiful sunset leaving the brightest fullish moon to shine. The moon was so bright it cast shadows of trees, and we were left squinting debating whether or not we should purchase moonshades. We decided to stop in Needles for dinner, but we soon discovered - Needles = DARKSVILLE. Not a single light was shinning, and we were surrounded by houses and food business. Ok fine. We could see the light of a flickering tea light from the window of one of the houses, but even the street lights were out. Perhaps a blackout? Yet, the light of the 76 station remained shining. Nervous giggles filled our car as we U-turned away from the only living people in this desolate town on their two creepy bicycles that were moving towards us. We quickly got back on to the freeway singing, "bye bye bye darksville."

After sixty more min of driving we crossed the Arizona border and decide to stop at Wendy's in Kingsman. We were greeted by a very enthusastic employee who began explaining to us the bubble fight they were participating in the back, while randomly bursting into song and explaining to us how musical she is. I can't decide if my favorite part of the Wendy's experience was how she rellished in giving us free water, soda and sour cream or was it when she said, "I love living in small town because you know everyone. Do you guys live in Kinsman?" Tough call really. We left Wendy's only to be greeted with our first Squeaks scare.

She has been an angel the entire drive. I mean the entire drive. We get to the car and JS turns to me and says, "Have you seen Squeaks?" I reached around behind me and underneath my bed for she spent the first half of the trip underneath my seat. No Squeaks. She said, "I just saw a cat outside." I immediately leapt out of the car and saw this gray cat with a raccoon esk tail that looked exactly like this:

I yelled, "Sqeaks come here." This cat turns around and darts into the dropped off reviene next to the freeway. JS grabs Squeaks' food and we stand at the edge calling her - Squeaks! Squeaks! Squeaks! However, the freeway is so loud we can't even hear our own voices let alone expect Squeaks to hear us. Even the tapping of her food bowl will not bring her up this hill. JS turns to me and says, "are you sure she isn't in the car?" Sure enough. This cute sweet little cat is peering out the window looking at us saying, "what are you crazy kids doing?"

We continued on the I-40 and got to Flagstaff at 10:30pm. My angel cat continued to behave as she quietly sat in her carrier as we proceeded to sneak her into the hotel.

Day 2
We kept losing an hour as we continued our drive. So, we woke up at 7:00am, but it felt like 6:00am. We sat down and tried to enjoy our free continental breakfast. Yet, we shared our morning with a gentleman who has a 24 year old daughter who danced professionally for 20 years, but she no longer dances. She no longer dances. She no longer dances. I think he told us she no longer dances. 3 times. No, 12 times. It became a very awkward conversation, and we laughed while backing away - slowly.

We really wanted to get to New Orleans at a reasonable hour for dinner and to go out. So, we decided to push through and drive as far as we possibly could on this day. Then Day 3 would not be as grueling. So we drove through Arizona and New Mexico. We stopped at California Pizza kitchen in an outside mall in Albuquerque. We drove through the very boring scenery that is New Mexico and into Texas. Luckily, the billboards did not disappoint.
My favorites were in New Mexico - a huge billboard for Absence followed by - "wake up lucky." I wished they were next to each other. We had dinner in Texas at Applebees. This is what I learned: they cook everything soaked in butter. They smoke inside. It is stinky.

We got our second wind with our conversation down memory lane and we continued to drive to Witchita, Texas even after losing another hour. 12am we checked and sneaked Squeaks into our hotel. Texas loves Texas. I mean nobody loves Texas loves Texans.

Day 3
This morning was definitly the toughest. We struggled to wake up, and Squeaks wasn't even awake when the alarm clock went off. I knew it must have been early! Granted, it was 7:30 - but we were 2 hours ahead of what we were used to. Plus, we had been driving for the past two days! We should have known that today was going to be a tough day since it didn't start off the greatest. We wanted to grab breakfast and get in the car and go. We get there - no carry out. Ok, so we'll eat inside. Our choices were extremely limited, but we decided on cereal. Texas doesn't believe in low fat, so, I put whole milk into my cereal. JS goes to put milk in her cereal, but I had taken it all. Of course I gave her some, but there was no milk for tea and coffee. We thought we could hack it, but an hour into the drive the two of us start seeking out a Starbucks as we continue to incessantly yawn. We grabbed our coffee and proceeded to New Orleans. Yup, we were going to get there at 8pm.

Our directions started to become a little confusing as we drove through Texas. We were looking for 557 to get to 20, and we kept seeing signs for 20, but no 557. It just so happened that JS was talking to her mom at the time, so, we asked her to get us to the 20 because we think we veered off. We got to the 20 and continued on. We crossed the line into Louisiana and the landscape instantly changed. Actually, we noticed that about every state line. Every time we crossed one the terrain instantly changed. Louisiana had some gorgeous lush small hills especially compared to the vast planes of Texas and New Mexico.

Now, we were looking for Interstate 10. We saw LA 10 and decided that it MUST be the same thing. We continue down this LA 10, and it really should have caught us a little more off gaurd than it obviously did because we no longer were traveling with trucks. It was a two lane two way road surrounded by houses and people bike riding and essentially living their normals lives in LA. So, we dead-ended into the Mississippi River. No, really. It looked like this:
Notice how it was dusk? That's right. The sun is setting. We have no maps. We can't get my mom on the phone. We can't get the Whipples on the phone. We are lost in the heart of the country in Louisiana. My sister, JJ, got us through the country back to the 190 to the 10. We're both holding our breath as we stressfully pray we are going in the right direction. Please oh please may we not be lost here in the dark without a single public place in sight. Luckily, JJ got us back on the freeway back on track with no time lost. Guess we got lost in the right direction. We got to New Orleans right on time at 8pm.

However, NO is like San Francisco. I really should have gotten us a place to stay ahead of time because it was very difficult to just find parking and find a place. We were in a city and combatting one way streets. Luckily, JS' mom was there to save us. (again) We ended up finding a place through hotels.com, and they assured us that the $56 a night was a steal compared to the normal $120. So, I booked a spot immediately. We pulled up to the hotel only to discover that we must use vallet parking. Sure! Except - we have a cat that I am almost 99% sure is not allowed in this hotel. Again, I'm so lucky to have such an amazing kitty!!! We snuck her in, and no one was the wiser. After about 10 minutes of frustrating phone conversations and checking in arguing, we hit the town of New Orleans. We ended up on the famous Bourbon street, and we were greeted with the very thoughtful and generous cat calling, but the smoking inside still remained a joy kill. Plus we were bombarded with men from the army trying to talk to us about their wives and four children they left at home while showing us pictures of themselves taking shots from a woman's crotch. Those weren't even the worst ones because the other ones probably would have offended us we were told.

Disappointed with the scene, we were still grateful to be walking around, and not sitting in a car. We headed back to the hotel and leisurely woke up the next morning after putting our smoke filled cloths in quarantine. My hair still smells of smoke. The smoking inside made us smell more like smoke than smokers in California.

Day 4
We checked out and hit the road to Tampa at about 10am full knowing we had a 10 hour day ahead of us, and we were about to lose another hour. We weren't discouraged. We took pictures of the french quarters in the day time, and hit Interstate 10 in no time. We passed through Mississippi, Alabama and got to Florida by 2pm. It was so thrilling to drive through all those states in such a short amount of time, and the sites were breath taking. Mississippi had fantastic trees, Alabama had the confederate flag and Florida just had beautiful beaches through the pan handle. Frankly, I was surprised to see the offensive flag only in Alabama. I thought I would see it throughout Louisiana and Mississippi too.

We decided to stop for lunch at Subway since we really were trying to avoid eating so much fried food, and we found one - in a gas station. So there we are eating our subway sandwiches in a gas station. Comical really. We stopped for dinner around 8pm at Sonny's BBQ. After my mother gave us a little 20 minute detour, we ended up at my parents house in Tampa safe and sound. All is well.

Today I said my last CA goodbye as JS stepped on the plane after spending a week traveling with me across the USA. This heart-wrenching goodbye left me with the feeling of "the calm before the storm" for I feel like I've been on vacation galavanting across the United States and visiting my parents in Florida. Soon I will be in a snowing state with no job, no shows and two friends. Oh, and I'll have a cat. I love her. I have more things to say about my fears and worries about New York and how awesome it has been with my family. However, I will save that for another long post!

I have so many more photos. I'll post them on my photobucket... just give me a few days. There are some posted on facebook already - I'm happy to show you just let me know if you want to see them.

Bye Bye Bye 2008 you were Great

noreply@blogger.com (Beverley Viljoen) — Wed, 31 Dec 2008 17:55:00 +0000

One of the many benefits of documenting life online is being able to hold myself accountable for goals and "New Year Resolutions." They really should just be called January resolutions because throughout the year life gets in the way and changes things, but I'll remain positive. Let's look at the goals for 2008.

I'd like to blog/write more this year, and become more skilled at the art.

Ok. So I wrote more than 2007, but did it become a more skilled art? Perhaps? There is no measure. Am I happy with this goal? Sure. I feel accomplished in this goal. Do I want to continue to pursue this goal? Sure. I have a feeling that I'll be writing A LOT in the coming months.

I'd like to get at least half of my equity points this year.

I must have been drunk when I wrote this. Better yet, I must have been drunk when I THOUGHT this. Ok, so I DIDN'T get half my equity points, but I did perform in four shows this year, which is HALF of what I did last year, but I did get larger roles this year. All positive. Plus, one of the shows was in an equity house. So, I didn't get half of my points, but this goal is unrealistic! So, do I feel like I failed? Nah. Performing wise this year was extremely successful.

Perhaps get married and have a baby. - I'm so joking...

Uuuuummmm.... I'm really speechless. I can't believe that I wrote this. Well, that isn't entirely true because I'm sure I thought it, but I actually documented it? Then I said - just kidding (not really). I don't really have anything to say about this "goal" except it's lame. My time will come.

So, my 2008 goals WERE LAME! Ok, I should be nice and not judge, but c'mon. Let's get real here those goals that were documented were LAME. How about some real goals for 2009, but here is the tricky thing: I want to set my expectations high as long as I don't beat myself up if I do not "accomplish." I set these goals to motivate myself to encourage myself to be the best me I want to be. With that said, "failure", I welcome you, but I will do my absolute best.

2009 Goals.

1) Get a job in New York.
This is probably more of a Jan. goal, but it's the heaviest thing on my mind right now. Work and audition.

2) Get cast in a show.
This is also heavy in my mind. I'm performing a lot in the bay area, and it's hard to leave the work. I hope and pray for opportunities in NYC.

3) Dance.
I love to dance, but it hasn't come easy. The goal is to get into as many dance classes as possible and become a little more solid in my ability. I'm not terrible, but I need to be more solid.

4) Stay (sigh the obvious one) in Shape.
I did ok during the holidays, but I won't have a gym in NYC at first. I hope to find a safe running regiment to maintain. I'm not sure I will be able to motivate myself. My PT here was amazing. It's true, I was lying on the floor of the gym this morning. I'm not exaggerating I was lying on the floor wanting to die!

6) Maintain my relationships new and old.

7) I'd like to work on my ability to communicate and say what is on my mind. Ask for what I want.

8) Start playing the piano and guitar regularly again.

9) Design, code and launch my website.
I have been putting this off because it feels so narcissistic. I will do it this year.

That's enough right? If I have more, I'll post it.

I'm just glad that this is the first year in three years that I have not brought with me a cold! Thanks exercise and rest!

The Magic Number is 2

noreply@blogger.com (Beverley Viljoen) — Tue, 30 Dec 2008 20:30:00 +0000

It’s a bleak day today. Thus, the wallowing shall commence in 3…2…1…

Action:

(sigh).** Every anticipated year-end is greeted with the hopes, goals and dreams for a much desired “Happy New Year.” Each time I think, this coming year is going to be so much better. It never does seem to be that much better. Sure, some years are far worse then others like my 2004 – that was a very tough year sans a silver lining. Yet, every other year always seems to have some silver lining: 2000, 20002, 2003, 2005, 2006, 2007. I left out 2001 because that was a great year, and I think it was the only year I though: may all years be this great. I did have some struggles to work out and get through in 2001, but the good far out weighed the negative in that year. Now it’s time to reflect on 2008, and the start of how the number 2 has become my nemesis.

/*Wallowing break:
I will say that the greatest thing that happened for me is that I discovered how supported I am, and I REMEMBERED the silver lining. Now I must focus on it. */

2 Things of 2008

1) I had 2 heartbreaks this year, and there is no pain like the pain from your “best friend.”
I detailed the demise of Pasha in my previous writings, and I was mum about my short captivating heart encounter and that is how it will remain. I will say that he is amazing in every way, and although the feeling of rejection erodes my heart today, I know that we have a sincere friendship that I will continue to value and cherish. Plus, he fulfilled a greater purpose in my life that I will write about when I’m ready.

Not only am I eating, living and breathing heartache at the moment, I’m surrounded by the happy 2somes that I am so blessed to have in my life. Then I stare into the faces of attractive, talented, smart, generous and amazing women wanting to be with their partner in crime, but it doesn’t seem to work out. It haunts me a little. Is that my destiny? Then I see many attractive, talented, smart, generous and amazing women that are extremely happy leading the bohemian single lifestyle. Is THAT my destiny?

The Silver Lining:
I am embarking on the greatest and most important relationship of all, and I’m getting to focus and spend time with myself. I’m constantly reminded of the amazing family and friends and out pours of support and love that so many people in this lifetime lack. I am so lucky. Again, I am so lucky.

2) I moved out of my San Francisco apartment.
The 2nd hardest thing I did this year for I loved that place. It marked a huge milestone for me in my life, and showed tremendous growth for I never thought I could live alone.

The Silver Lining:
I moved out of something great, so I can start building something greater in New York. Something ELSE I never thought I could do which is just another example demonstrating my personal growth. I am moving forward in my life. I am.

These are my heaviest 2 personal tragedies of 2008. Of course I’m leaving out the fact that I was laid off from my job, that there were TWO emotional unexpected deaths, and a bunch of other unfortunate tragedies in 2008, but of course I was going to leave my job anyway and death is a reality I had been lucky enough to only really experience now.

I can’t leave the 2008 conversation without the Yang to the Yin. I must document the 2 greatest events of 2008.

1) Performing.
I performed in an equity house this year, and I got to play Maria in West Side Story (only the greatest role of all time.) Gee, how lucky am I?

2) New York.
I decided to make the move. I’ve talked about this at nauseam. I really can’t say much more about it until I step off the diving board. I’m at the edge now. I’m looking at the water.

Although 2009 is starting off with reminiscent heartache, a genuine fear of the unknown and the desperate plea for a better year, I do remain hopeful and positive. I KNOW there are so many people out in the world that are less fortunate than I. I am so LUCKY to be so blessed. I am grateful that I can remember to think of these things during this transitional period in my life. I just hope that I can remember this mantra through January 10th.

**Every good wallow begins with a sigh.

Sunday Part 2

noreply@blogger.com (Beverley Viljoen) — Mon, 29 Dec 2008 05:35:00 +0000

It’s the second to last Sunday here in Mountain View!! In 13 days I will be somewhere in Arizona.

I’m sitting here in front of the television wearing my wool cashmere sweater and a purple scarf wrapped around my neck watching the movie/show that inspired it all! The four girls that I watched many hours over while debating whether or not I should move to NYC. The four girls that gave me the courage to pack up my bags in San Francisco and move! When I decided finally to move to New York, I watched many hours of this show to remind myself that I will have a blast despite the wretched turmoil that these four girls went through with love, men and work! Granted, they had each other, and my close network of friends will be strewn across California. It’s ok – that is what the Internet is for, and the telephone does wonders. Who knows what is in store for me, but I am starting to get extremely excited about the move. I am still terrified, but the excitement is taking over.

I spent this weekend looking for a winter coat! I went to Macy’s, Bloomingdales, Nordstrom and Burlington Coat Factory. Each store was covered with winter coats on sale. Macy’s even had a whole floor just for coats! I thought for sure that I would find at least ONE coat that was my size! Alas, I was incorrect. I did not find a coat in my size and I went to the stores at Valley Fair and the stores in San Francisco! I am a 4! A 4!!!!!! Is that really difficult to find? Yes. It is. There were only three 6’s in the entire store, and believe me I searched those stores like I was in ROSS! I suppose that I don’t have any choices left except to just wait until I get to New York. So, I finally buckled down and bought this down jacket that isn’t exactly CUTE, but at least I will be warm. I will be warm, and when I can get there I can look for a cute warm wool coat!

Getting Married Twice

noreply@blogger.com (Beverley Viljoen) — Sun, 28 Dec 2008 21:48:00 +0000

Today is mother's second 49th Birthday, and last year I wrote about how she is so amazing.

This year - I'm going to write about how my Dad got down on his knee and proposed to her again! After twenty-seven years of being married and thirty-two years of being together, my Dad tells my Mom that he cannot breathe without her. That the thought of being without her seems impossible! Everyone around in the family was bawling their eyes out including both my parents, and I only wish that I could have been there to experience the joyous occasion.

It's just a reminder for me.

There are good men out there, and one will find me. I can't wait to meet him.

Merry Christmas

noreply@blogger.com (Beverley Viljoen) — Thu, 25 Dec 2008 00:53:00 +0000

Sister: Are you really cooking in your stilettos?

Me: Yes. I'm so 1950s

Sister: Yeah, seriously.

Me: Ummm coming from the girl who is sewing a hat for her Boyfriend.

Ok Getting Closer.

noreply@blogger.com (Beverley Viljoen) — Wed, 24 Dec 2008 00:36:00 +0000

It’s true. I have not updated in a long time, but do you want to know how long and drawn out and how sad things have been as I struggle through the transition of this move?

My last post is still true, but this time I’m watching my life wind down quickly and quietly here in the Bay Area.

Do I Hear A Waltz closed this past Saturday, and my heart grew heavy with goodbyes because it marked the start of all my goodbyes. My friends are trying to squeeze time in for me with the holidays, and each time we see each other there is this tinge of – will this be the last time? I am aware that this move doesn’t have to be forever, but it doesn’t make it any easier. I keep reminding myself that even if I stayed things would be different. I’m looking at the people around me and seeing how their lives are moving forward, growing, changing and it would still be happening even if I was staying here. It is hard to leave comfort for the unknown, and I am finding the courage within myself that I didn’t even know I had. I keep saying over and over and over – if it doesn’t work out, just come home.

Even with that said, I’m feeling like a misfit. I still don’t really have a place. This bouncing around and lack of nesting is making me feel a little “I don’t belong.” I have faith that soon enough everything will fall into place, but the months of dragging on and leading up to this move has been painful. While I’d like to say that I wouldn’t do it again, so many great great great things happened in these past few months that never would have happened if I had left. For that I am grateful, and I am so glad that I stayed despite the fact I feel like I’m dragging my heels.

The Christmas show I worked on simultaneously with Waltz presented a very touching moment in my career. It was great to work with the kids, but also great to work with an amazing director and other amazing acting adults who shared their wisdom in living and experiencing NYC. I also got some great contacts that I will follow up on.

I put in my last invoice yesterday, and a coworker of mine gave me the 2nd Lil’ Wayne cd. It was very touching because I think we’ve had one conversation about how I like Lil’ Wayne, but maybe the fact that I do is so jarring to someone it is hard to forget! The last few days here at work have been great. We’re wrapping up the web project, well, phase 1 at least. So, now I’ve been asked to sing in a video for the company, and it’s been a lot of fun. I’m getting paid to sing!

I’m still trying to figure out what type of job I need to get in New York, but that is going to take some time to figure out. I think I need to spend more time with the people and with the scene.

Ok. That’s it for now.
Merry Christmas.

Almost 2009

noreply@blogger.com (Beverley Viljoen) — Tue, 02 Dec 2008 23:14:00 +0000

Aw, I haven’t updated in a while, but I needed a break from my crazy.

Ok. Fine. I have a small chance from escaping all my crazy, but I needed a break from my larger crazy that consumes my heart, my soul and my spirit. It has truly been a long time since I have felt so stoic, cold, empathetic and just a walking contradiction. At times I’m filled with an outpour of emotion, and other times – I’m emotionally numb. Believe you me - these are not my darkest days. I’m working through it and I am not alone. My spirit is filled with hope despite the whisperings of fear, despair and aloneness. I know that I am not alone, and that this is just part of my path. I have found peace in knowing that this is just part of my plan.

The show is wonderful. I have loved every single moment that I have had spending time with the cast, the music and Jennifer. She brings lightness to me that I have been craving, and I love it. I get a chance to wallow in her stupidity, ignorance, vein spirit and tragic soul! I love it. Love it love it love it! Three more weeks of that show, and then it’s over. I have been dreading that a little bit.

I’m also working on the Christmas show. It’s great. It’s wonderful. We’re going up next week, and I still have some memorizing to do, but I will be ok. I’m not too worried about it. Tonight we get to meet the kids, and I’m looking forward to it!

I cannot believe that today is December 2nd. What a year, and the start of 2009 will be fantastic!! Just 39 more days until I leave!!

48 More Days.

noreply@blogger.com (Beverley Viljoen) — Mon, 24 Nov 2008 23:13:00 +0000

The last few days really have given me the opportunity to reflect on what my life is going to be like in NYC. Since my show is open, and the Christmas show is right around the corner, plus - my friends are all moving forward and making their January 2009 plans.

My plans are stagnant.

Plain and simple: I have no plans right now except move to New York - in the dead of winter. I repeated over to myself a million times on Saturday night: it's going to be fine. I'm going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine.

I think I almost convinced myself.

Right now I feel sheer terror, and watching the days on the calendar dwindle closer and closer towards January 10th. It's a day that I have longed for since August when I made the decision to go, but now that it approaches so quickly, I'm freaking out! My life is here in California with perfect weather.

I need guidance.
I'm confused.

I promise not to post false things about my experience. I won't sugar coat , and I will dive in whole heartily with hope and determination. I will forgo my pride if things do not work out. If I find that I am happier here then I am there, I will come home. At the very very least I tried, and many of you who know me, know I will not not easily give up.