Staten Island Adventures

I had an adventure last week. The weekend prior, we hadn't finished filming the short film I've been working on and I was supposed to come in on Easter Sunday to finish it up. Amy and Julie had decided to go to Washington DC for the weekend, and I was going to have to stay behind. They drove Amy's car (which has been the source of unbelieveable amounts of aggravation for her) to DC, and parked it in a garage close to our house when they got back around midnight Sunday night. It was requested that little unemployed me drive the car out to Staten Island where Amy's friend lives and park it. After much cajoling, I was talked into it and I convinced Liz to go with me.

For those of you unaware, Staten Island is technically a part of New York City, but it's about as far away you can get without leaving. It's across the river, on a different landmass. We mapped out our course, spent half an hour finding the garage they had parked in, went sprinting back to the apartment to grab the keys (wouldn't have gotten far without those), and set off. The drive took FOREVER. We were supposed to be back by 2 (Liz had work at five); 2 o'clock rolled around and we were sitting in traffic on a bridge. But jamming to CDs, surviving on a canteen of Dr. Pepper and box of Cheez Its had a wonderful feeling of home to it; we weren't too distressed. Then we reached our destination. We could not find this guy's address anywhere. We saw the numbers before and after, but not his. Eventually we assumed he must be one of a cluster of apartments and we parked the car in the according parking lot. The bus came that we were to take back to Manhattan, and we were not allowed to enter, told that our Metro cards were not sufficient for this oh-so-grand 'express bus'. Liz was beginning to get concerned. The only other bus option was a local that would drop us at the ferry- no way we would make it back in time! So after some kind help from a man waiting for the NEXT express bus (which wouldn't come for half an hour), I was informed that the closest place to buy a ticket was down the Avenue at a laundromat. I went sprinting off, theme music running through my brain. I got the ticket! We made the bus! We got back less than an hour before Liz had to start work, but all in all it was okay!

That night I was informed the car had been parked in the wrong place. The next day the guy told us a note had been put on it saying it would be towed. And the next morning I found myself catching the confounded express bus, all alone, back to Staten Island.

But I succeeded. I moved that car to its proper place (the side of the road, apparently), and without the dramatic confrontation I was imagining with the tow truck man as he loaded it onto his truck at the exact moment I jumped off the bus shouting 'WAIT!! THAT'S MY CAR!!!' (Though perhaps that might have been a better ending to the story.) Still. Success felt sweet, especially since I've been riding on a bit of a wave of success lately and Amy's car being towed would have really broken that up.

Well for the most part it's been a wave of success. The night before my second outing to Staten was not a good one. Without going too much into details, it was brought glaringly back to my attention that I'm not always the nicest person, frequently to the people who mean the most to me. I know why I do it: It's a laziness thing. I spend all my time in public trying as hard as I can to please, so when I come home, or am around people I'm truly comfortable with, I stop trying as hard. But that's no excuse.

Succeeding with Amy's car was a nice bounce back, and a good start to a renewed attempt at being the man God wants me to be. That was the lesson, I suppose: When I'm working to please God, my relationship with others will fall into place.

I've begun to feel grown up for the first time. I paid taxes this year, and if that is not the bane of my existence then I don't know what is. I'm doing well on the acting front, but I'm also facing reality for just about the first time: I'm running out of money. I'm having to come to terms with the fact that I may not be able to support myself right now by doing what I love. That's not been the best feeling.

I'm blessed, though. It's pretty hard for me to forget that these days. As long as I remember that, the stumbling and stress and other stuff will be okay. Hope this finds everyone who reads it blessed too.