Christmas Comparison

I’ve never thought to blog on an airplane, but hey, why not?

My laptop is an approved electronic item, and I rarely have this much forced down time, so I think this is a rather ideal working condition. And I’m quite positive my mom will be waiting incessantly for an update when her empty nest child-withdrawals kick back in now that Christmas Break is over and Erin and I have, yet again, left home for our respective “adult lives.”

After 8 months in Yankee territory I finally rejoined “my people” in the Sweet South. It’s comforting to know some things just don’t change…

While there, my mom came up with a plethora of blog topics that she thought you all would find entertaining, and while I’ve forgotten most, I thought doing a Comparative Christmas was actually a quite appealing idea. So, now that the decoration are down, the lights have been shut off, and the tree at Rockefeller Center has been cut into pieces for Habitat for Humanity, I will take a few moments to look back (and down, being at cruising altitude of a Delta aircraft) at my Christmas experience in both of the places I call home: New York, NY and Biloxi, MS.

New York City at Christmastime is completely magical. I am a big fan of lights: all kinds of lights. Always have been, always will be. One of my favorite memories is flying into LaGuardia airport late one evening after the sun had already gone down and looking out the window to see the lights of the city sparkling up into the sky like gold glitter. The lights of the city are pretty phenomenal on their own. When you add millions  - probably billions- of twinkling colored lights ON TOP of the already overwhelming shine, you have to literally remind yourself to breathe.

Fortunately I have found a group of friends who love Christmas as much as I do.  Our Buddy the Elf level of excitement kicked off on Thanksgiving Day when Santa rolled into town at the end of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Now, I’ve watched the parade from the couch in my living room every year since I can remember, but this time, I was THERE, in PERSON, like a 6 year old – Freezing my toes off and not giving a rip. We got to the parade route at 4:30am to stake out a spot, and much to the dismay of the self-entitled children behind us who didn’t even show up until 6am, we were NOT moving from our front row seats. After the floats and the fun, we said goodbye to all other Holidays and welcomed Christmas with open arms with the first viewing of Elf on a comfy couch on the Upper West Side… and it only got better from there. We went ice-skating in Bryant Park and had hot cider in a pop-up shop overlooking the rink. We walked up and down 5^th Ave “Oohing” and “Aahing” at the window displays that were nothing short of spectacular. We shopped at the little Christmas Villages that local vendors set up in the parks. We decorated trees and went to Christmas Parties and even sang Christmas Carols outside Central Presbyterian for the Park Avenue tree lighting. I learned the Alto line of Handel’s Messiah in three weeks and performed with some of my favorite people in the city, made 144 cookies for a cookie exchange, told Santa what I wanted for Christmas at Macy’s Winter Wonerland, and saw the coolest Performance Art piece of A Christmas Carol at the Abrons Art Center.

WHEW. That’s a lot. And that was just an overview.

I packed my bags and headed home for a restful Christmas in Biloxi.

Or so I thought…

While home we went to Christmas Parties where we yelled and laughed over board games and ate entirely too much Rotel and cookies, drove around the coast looking at Christmas lights – specifically the house that has lights on the lawn dancing to music on its own radio station, shopped the boutiques of Downtown Biloxi, sang Christmas Carols on the lawn of Jefferson Davis’s beachfront home Beauvoir, passed by the lines of snotty nosed kids waiting to see Santa at the mall, drank caramel apple cider in front of the fireplace, curled up on the couch to watch Meet Me in St. Louis (a Christmas tradition at our house), made chocolate/peanut-butter bon bons at Nana’s, and jumped on the bed in matching footie pajamas before taking the annual family Christmas photo.

Thinking about it now, Christmas in New York and in Mississippi weren’t really so different after all. There was a lot of laughter, plenty of decorations, and many memories made all around. I got to experience the best of both worlds this year, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Ok, the guy in front of me just figured out how to lay his seat back, so it’s much more difficult to manage the laptop… Maybe blogging on a plane isn’t always ideal, but I think you get the general idea…

Y’all come back now, ya hear?

Grace be with you,

Lindsey Shea

Oh Tannenbaum

There is nothing more magical than New York City at Christmas!

On top of the already glittering city lights, there are billions of Christmas lights and window decorations  that fuel excitement and cheer, but you can see all of that on my Facebook (or in my next blog, depending on how pushy my mother is).

There are also Christmas complications that come with a city residence.

For instance, how does one get a full sized Christmas Tree from the corner tree stand into a tiny apartment on the second floor of an uptown building? Funny you should ask, because now I know.

My roommates asked a boy to help carry our tree to our apartment, so I thought I was going to miss out on the hassle... I was wrong.

I was at Bible Study on a Monday night, and when we got out at about 10, I texted my friend Katherine to see if she was finished with work.  She was wrapping things up and was about to pick a tree from the stand in front of her store. Apparently they have a deal that the Keihl's employees get free trees for letting the tree workers use their facilities. When Katherine asked me to help bring her tree home, I couldn't say no, so I met her at 66th and Columbus to pick out the perfect tree for her apartment.

Much to my dismay, she had already picked out her tree... A big tree... A big, 7 foot tree... A big, heavy, 7 foot tree... She had decided she could get a bigger tree this year since she had someone to help her bring it back... Great.

After they had wrapped up her tree and attached the stand, we finagled our tree into a decent carrying position and started trekking down the sidewalk. At this point, I had no idea where we were going, but I knew I was not about to carry this tree 2 miles to Katherine's apartment. I didn't think public transportation was an option. A taxi cab would have been expensive. And seriously, how could we fit this tree anywhere? Katherine had a plan though, and as we lugged our tree to the bus stop, people greeted us with "Merry Christmas" and lots of smiles.

When we propped our tree up at the bus stop, we got a few strange looks from some grumpy older men trying to get home. After a few minutes, a crowded bus pulled up to the curb and we started to gather our things. With a quick glance through the windows and a pretty intimidating glare from the driver, we knew there was no way our tree was going to make it past the front door. Fortunately, an empty bus was directly behind, and we pushed our way past the toll box. The unhappy driver told us to stay out of the way as much as possible, and we found a nice little seat where we could hold our tree upright and somewhat unobtrusively. The three other people on the bus stared for a few minutes, but eventually began telling stories of decorating their own trees. Our Grinch of a bus driver turned around to ask how far we were going, and when we responded with 103rd St, he asked why on earth we didn't get a tree further uptown at one of the stands near her apartment. Katherine explained that the tree was free, and our bus driver warmed up considerably and eventually started telling his own Christmas stories.

We had such a delightful ride! When we finally made it to 103rd and dragged the tree off the bus, our driver told us his bus had never smelled so good!

Carrying the tree down the street, up the stairs, and around the corner was another trick, but we made it happen. Katherine's apartment now looks lovely with the full tree in the corner.

Sometimes easy tasks like decorating for Christmas have added complications in this city. It's totally worth it though. It's Christmas time in the city, and I LOVE IT!

Merry Christmas to you and yours!

Peace be with you,
Lindsey Shea

Hurricane Sandy

There's a Storm a-brewin' y'all!!

The conversations I've observed in the past 24 hours confirm the accuracy of the above chart.

Hurricane Sandy is upon the east coast, and most of the citizens of New York couldn't possibly be less prepared.

While one of my roommates ran into the local grocery store to get a few last minute ingredients for our pre-storm dinner last night, I looked into the baskets of other shoppers and almost laughed out loud. I saw entirely too many microwave dinners and frozen treats. Alcohol also seemed to be a top priority for these last minute shoppers. My roommate was in line for the cash register for about 45 minutes, which is not surprising. A little more surprising, though, was seeing one of my friends from church heading into the madness because he JUST realized he has no food in his apartment.

I think the most reasonable explanation for the last minute panic is the fact that Public Transit was shut down yesterday at 7pm last night, so there's really no way to get around the city without a car (and seriously, who has one of those anymore?? haha). This MTA shut-down could potentially make someone feel trapped. I am realizing I haven't had this much forced free time in YEARS. I'm taking this as a mini vacation with my roommates (at least until the scary weather kicks in).

I received a precious email from my boss yesterday informing me that our office would be closed today (Monday). Being a native New Yorker, he wanted to make sure I was fully prepared. His necessity list included a flashlight, bottled water, a pocket knife, duct tape, a first aid kit, and a whistle. I'm not 100% sure what I'm supposed to do with a whistle, but I appreciated his concern. For those of you down South who are worried, we're fully stocked with non-perishables, a tub of water, and flashlights. Whether this storm is bad or not, we're ready for it.

Last night we watched Young Frankenstein in honor of this Young Frankenstorm, and today my roommates and I are curled up watching movies and the news. The reporters are saying about 10-20 million people will be without power soon, so we're trying to use our technology as much as possible. :)

Yesterday at church I found myself standing with friends talking about preparation and what we should expect with the impending storm. It was eerily similar to the Sunday before Hurricane Katrina when we all stood around in the sanctuary, asking where our friends were evacuating and wishing each other the best. That Sunday burns vividly in my mind, and the months following keep playing through in my head, but I praise the Lord for his perfect plan and the beauty and growth he brought from that disaster. I think those memories have actually been the hardest part of this storm process... I honesty don't think much will come of Sandy. We may lose some power, we've already lost a crane, and work may be down for another day or two, but I know not to take anything for granted.

We are prepared for the worst but hoping for the best.

And we are praying, and I know many of you are praying too. 

Thank you for the prayers. We can feel them.

Grace be with you,

Lindsey Shea

Just Another Day in NYC...

I’ve settled into a pretty comfortable life routine here in New York City.

My weeks consist of work (casting assistant at Mungioli theatricals), choir practice, dance classes, Bible Study, and the occasional social gathering… OK, maybe social gatherings are more frequent than “occasional.” I stay pretty busy, but those of you who know me understand that I wouldn’t be happy any other way.

It’s just a normal life in different city.

Except… sometimes I get caught off-guard when I look at the skyline, or when see the sparkle of the lights in the buildings surrounding me, when I overhear bizarre conversations on the subway, when I leave a crowded theatre and go home instead of to a hotel, or eat a dessert in central park. Those are the moments that I stop and think Wow, I’m really here.

I’m ACTUALLY living in New York City.

I had one of those moments last night.

I was standing on the steps of a gorgeous cathedral sanctuary directly behind a 50 piece orchestra comprised of Juilliard students and alumni, singing choral music with some of the finest opera singers in the country.

UM WHAT?

Let me clarify and give details. Central Presbyterian is the incredible church body that I now call home. The Central building is an old gorgeous church building built in the early 1900’s. (pictures to come later) It was actually featured on “Sex and the City” in one of the early seasons as Mr. Big’s church. One of my roommates at the concert last night likened it to Hogwarts. It has a high arched ceiling, tall stained glass windows, and an ornate alter in addition to the stone columns and beautiful hanging lights. Basically, I’m completely obsessed with it… I’ll be getting married there if I ever find a husband.  ;-)

 I am a member of the choir at Central, and for the past few months we have been learning Felix Mendelssohn’s ELIJAH. (Oh brother some of those alto lines are pretty tough!) Our concert is this weekend (Thursday the 25^th and Friday the 26^th).

The soloists are as follows:

Mark Delevan- Elijah

His bio includes title roles in Falstaff, Rigoletto, Der Fliegende Hollander, Gianni Schicci, Simon Boccanegra, and Sweeny Todd.

If you’re anything like me, the only title that actually means anything is Sweeny Todd. He performs with the MET Opera, the New York City Opera, the Duetsche Oper Berlin, and the San Francisco Opera, among many others.

Basically, this guy is LEGIT!

Molly Fillmore – Soprano

Metropolitan Opera, San Francisco Opera, Seattle Opera, Arizona Opera, Detroit Symphony Orchestra, Seattle Symphony, Cologne Opera, Washington National Opera, Spoleto Festival, Chattanooga Opera, Utah Opera, Carnegie Hall, and Avery Fisher Hall.

Impressed yet?

MaryAnn McCormick – Alto

Opera National de Paris, Teatro Comunale di Bologna, Teatro Regio di Parma; Title role of Carmen at Teatro dell’Opera di Roma, Teatro Regio di Torino, and the Staatsoper Stuttgart; The MET, Orchestre National de France, Opera theater of St Louis, New York philharmonic, lyric Opera of Chicago, Santa Fe Opera, and the Emerson String Quartet.

Need I continue? Well, actually, yes because there’s one more soloist and I feel like it would be unfair to leave him out…

John Easterlin – Tenor

Metropolitan Opera, Madrid’s Teatro Real, Moscow’s Bolshoi Theatre, a French Grammy Award, Vienna State Opera, Opera National de Paris, Royal Opera House Covent Garden, and the Canadian Opera Company, just to name a few.

Truth be told, I’ve never heard of most of those places, but I HAVE heard these soloists sing twice now. They are unbelievable.

In addition to the soloists, we have a 50 piece orchestra from Juilliard. How did we get Juilliard musicians you may ask? Well, that’s easy. All of the instrumentalists who play with our church choir each Sunday morning are Juilliard alumni, so they just asked their friends… 50 of them… Fifty unnaturally talented friends who have devoted their lives to playing music, and playing it perfectly.

I’m surrounded by insanely talented people!

And THEN, there’s the choir. What wonderful people they are. There are 23 of us. Most of which are professional opera singers themselves. All of which have a beautiful passion for sharing their gifts for the glory of God.

 And here I stand, the lowly musical theatre nerd, just starting out on her artistic journey- listening to these people, learning from these people, and trying not to get completely overwhelmed.

Last night, standing on that stage, I realized I could never have this experience anywhere else in the world.

And the best part was that as I looked out into the audience, there were faces of friends smiling back at me.

I’ve been blessed with some pretty incredible opportunities, but I’ve been blessed with even more incredible people who share these experiences with me.

As the Final Chorus of ELIJAH says:

“Lord, our Creator, how excellent Thy name is in all the nations. Thou fillest heaven [and earth] with thy glory! Amen!”

Better than Beginner Ballet

You live and you learn, right?

I think the older you get, the more you realize just how much you've accumulated over the years, and how each lesson seems to build upon what you already know. That also gives me the distinct sense that I have so much more I WANT to learn. How can I be satisfied with what I know now when I look back and see how much more I know than I did 5 years, heck, even 5 months ago?? If I had been satisfied then, I would have missed out on so much! I'm not necessarily talking about earth-shattering revelations here. I'm more astonished with the depth of knowledge and the color that tiny new experiences add to simple, standard life lessons we are taught as children.

One of my favorite quotes or "life lessons" that I learned from my momma is this:

There will ALWAYS be someone better than you. There will ALWAYS be someone who's not quite as good. Those people will ALWAYS be there. So, you just recognize that and do what you do best.

I have a tendency to focus on the people who are "better" than I am: the prettier girls, the more talented actors, the more flexible dancers, the more intelligent students, the WHATEVER, who cares? Sometimes that can be healthy. Knowing that I'm not the best can really help motivate me to work harder and do better. I often try not to think of the people who "aren't as good" at a particular skill. I don't want to be judgmental! But, I think sometimes a healthy dose of that reality can be helpful too.

I have ALWAYS doubted my dance ability. I've made a million excuses: I was an athlete. I started too late in life. I'm too tall. I'm not flexible enough. My brain just doesn't work that way. I can fake it, but don't expect it to be perfect. Again, WHATEVER, who cares?

Well, I've decided that to become a better "mover" (as they call anyone who can't do a billion pirouettes into a leap over Mt. Everest followed by a heel stretch to the ceiling and a no handed cartwheel), and to stay in shape, I'm going to take weekly dance classes. I went to the studio last night with full intentions of taking a Beginner Musical Theatre class.

Another lesson learned: go with your gut!

As I was looking at the schedule before class, I noticed a "Basic Ballet" class listed. My thought was OH, ballet! Ballet would be good for me! And yeah, it's just Basic Ballet, but I suck at ballet, so I'm sure this is the class I should go to.

Apparently, I don't totally suck at ballet! Granted, most of the people in there were taking a dance class for the first time, so comparing myself to them is not exactly an accurate measure of skill. So, I decided not to compare myself to the students in the class but to the class itself. I knew every vocabulary word she threw out at us. I knew every warm up. I caught on to the combinations immediately, and I was really able to focus on my technique. I realized right then and there that all of my classes had actually taught me a lot! I could probably move up not one, but TWO levels!

Y'ALL! I'm a dancer!!

Ok, so maybe not, but I'm not helpless. To round this all out and bring it back to the point, I guess what I'm saying is that I needed that. I needed to be reminded of where I came from and how much I've layered on top of and around what I initially learned. I also needed to be reminded that more challenging classes (or to broaden the scope, more risks) are all teaching lessons, not tests that I have to pass. Basic Ballet was a test that I passed without even studying or listening to the teacher, if you want a metaphor. I learn nothing from those tests if I take them over and over again.

So, here I am, accepting the challenge my mom put forth when I was but a wee child. I'm going to notice the people who are better than I am and work to reach that potential. I am going to recognize the people who aren't as good as I am and allow them to remind me where I've been. I'm going to keep going, keep learning, keep accepting challenges.


Sappy enough for you?
Maybe a little motivation is good for everyone.
The next blog will be more humorous, I can assure you, but I needed to get this off my chest.

Grace be with you,
Lindsey Shea

Running the Open

The 2012 US Open... The last Grand Slam tournament of the year... And I was a part of it...

HA!

My mom wants me to get famous one day just so I can go back to the Open one day, do an interview with ESPN to talk about my days as an employee, and to be really nice to all of the other runners.

I've thought long and hard about how to present this particular blog post. Should I only tell the fun stories? Should I dazzle you with celebrity sightings? Should I crush your fantasies by telling you all of the grungy or boring responsibilities I had as a runner for ESPN?

No... I shall tell it all...

Before I go any further, the US Open is a really big tennis tournament. For those of you who were unaware, that little tidbit of information could come in handy as the blog progresses. Also, a "runner" is basically a Production Assistant, or a go-for, or the hired help. That is how I spent the past three weeks- helping tennis happen on live TV. You're welcome.

Each morning began with an hour and a half train commute to Flushing, Queens. Flushing is about as "middle of nowhere" as New York City gets. In Flushing, you can go to the Mets' Citi Field, the Billie Jean King national tennis center, the Worlds Fair Marina, or BJ's wholesale store (and all of these sites are practically on top of one another). Other than that, Flushing is basically useless. After about a week of this commute, I started to realize I didn't say a single word for the first three active hours of my day. I'm not sure if that was refreshing or frustrating. My mood varied.

They fed us three times a day in Flushing: Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner. We also had a ridiculous bookshelf full of snack boxes that I was partially responsible for keeping fully stocked (Thank you BJ's for all of your help). The food is one thing I really am going to miss about the Open. Three free hot meals a day are hard to come by in the real world. And as I mentioned, there was no reason to ever be hungry because of the snack shelf. Shopping trips to fill the snack shelf were adventurous to say the least. One day, we spent over $2,000 on snacks at BJ's. The office motto was "if you think you have enough, fill up one more cart."It definitely took me a little time to get used to dropping THAT much money in one shopping trip. Shopping was always pretty fun, if occasionally overwhelming... That is, until I was put on shopping probation for taking a 5 hour snack trip one afternoon. Nobody seemed to understand that wasn't my fault though... There were hundreds of people out on that Sunday afternoon, all trying to get groceries, and all trying to check out at the same time. It was a nightmare.

One of the main responsibilities of a runner is to keep people fed and happy. Providing snacks is part of that, but not nearly as pivotal as fetching meals... That's right... making lunches and dinners for people who were either too busy or too lazy to go get their own food (to be fair, most people were actually too busy to leave the production truck or computer screen, but there were definitely some bums scattered in). On my first day of making lunches, I created an epic mess of a sandwich. We had menu charts that we would give to everyone to fill out and hand back in. The check boxes were spaced in a very strange way. We would take those charts, locate the requested food, and pack a lunch box to bring back. Sounds simple enough... until you end up with 6 charts, a confusing check system, and very hungry production people. I was asked to make a sandwich for a man that I will refer to as "R." As I was making R's sandwich, and including everything he checked off, I was a little taken-aback to see that he requested beets and eggs with his provolone, mustard, and mayo. All I could think was Maybe he's on a weird diet. Maybe he's European. There are a lot of foreigners here. Maybe they eat funning things... But this is the most disgusting thing I've ever seen. I tried to let it go and I just made the sandwich as requested. I delivered his meal and went on my way. When I was coming around later to take out trash bags (WOO HOO!!) he stopped me and asked me to look at the sandwich. I knew something was fishy when the guy sitting next to him pulled out his iPhone and started recording the conversation. He asked me what happened to the sandwich, if I made it, and who put me up to it? I was so confused, but I was not about to be humiliated, so I denied having anything to do with the sandwich and said that there were tons of runners making sandwiches so I didn't know who got his menu. I also told him is was the most disgusting thing I had ever seen. After a few minutes, he said he actually believed me but that he was determined to find out who set him up... He thought it was a practical joke. I had NO IDEA what was going on!!!!! I had to figure it out, so I went back and looked at the menu chart. As I mentioned earlier, the check system was rather confusing. The boxes that were closest to the food items were not, in fact, the boxes related to those food items. Everything was shifted, which made sense after closer evaluation, but for a frazzled rookie, it was an honest mistake... He hadn't ordered beets and eggs, he had requested lettuce and tomato!!!!! OH I was so embarrassed!!! But I had denied it, so nobody knew it was me. Everybody knew the story by the end of the afternoon, and other runners were getting blamed. It was awful. I wanted to crawl in a hole. My conscience caught up with me by the evening, and I had to go back and tell R that I had lied. As it turns out, coming clean was the best thing I could have done. R was embarrassed that he had been tricked and exclaimed that he knew I was either completely innocent or the best actress he'd ever met. When I told him I studied theatre, he was impressed and made sure everyone in the production truck knew that I was talented. HA! It was a mess. R and I bonded over that incident and I brought him correct lunches for the rest of the open. The only people who DIDN'T find that amusing were my bosses - they thought I was an idiot for the whole first part of the Open.

My bosses were something special... To insure anonymity if this ever gets published for some crazy reason, I'll keep names down to initials. So, here's the list:
J was bipolar and easily stressed. She was easily the most sugary sweet of the bunch when things were going well, but she stormed out of the office so many times it was almost comical.
E was cool... In college... I'm not sure she really grew out of the college mentality. She likes to party, and she wanted the runners to know that. I think I was a little too "cute and sweet" for her liking.
T was the crazy asian lady. Neurotic, strict, and rarely friendly. She called me an epic failure after my long shopping trip. She also called me Lisa for most of the Open. Unfortunately for some, I wasn't even her least favorite...
C was pretty cool. He's Irish or Scottish or something. He had a really cool accent. He was laid back and often sarcastic, but in a funny way, not a mean way. He got work done, but he was the most connected to the runners. I would work for C again... I don't know if I could handle the others again though.

The runner team was pretty awesome, too. We were a melting pot of accents and ethnicities: we had runners representing New Jersey, Mississippi, Delaware, Lithuania, Austria, England, Texas, Ireland, Bermuda, Mexico, and New York. Our group worked really well together. It was a drama-free Open, which made things a lot of fun.

Speaking of fun, I did get to do some pretty neat things.

One of my favorite running stations was the GTX-16 truck. This was our main production truck. I got to sit and watch the team make live television happen. There were a bazillion screens and monitors and people talking on headsets constantly over each other. I have no idea how they made it all work, but it was really a neat thing to watch. I also really enjoyed running the P2 cards from camera stations back and forth to the truck. That always made me feel important.

I was also stationed at the President's Gate for a few sessions. At "arrivals" it's the runner's job to spot celebrities and key players and make sure the camera man records them coming in. Considering the fact that I didn't even know who Andy Murray was until three weeks ago, this probably was not the best job for me, but the celebrities were pretty neat. To curb your interest, I'll just list them out: Amanda Seyfried (oh my gosh she's tiny!), Jon Hamm, Will Ferrel (who was looking a little old), Pippa Middleton, Sean Connery (I just walked up on an interview he was giving), Matthew Morrison (we totally smile at each other), The Wanted, and Mayor Giuliani. I almost tripped the mayor... The camera man and I were set up to catch him come across from the parking lot. We had gone over our plan to stay out of the way of the entourage, and I was ready with my coiled cable to broadcast the entrance of the Mayor! Leave it to politicians to mess up the plan. Instead of crossing in front of us like we thought he would, Giuliani started to walk straight towards me! We (the runners) were NOT supposed to be caught on camera during the tournament, so to avoid being seen and to get out of the way, I had to dive into a nearby flower bush. It would have been fine if I hadn't tugged the camera cable with me, lifting the cord off the ground and nearly tripping the entire party! Fortunately, I dropped the line just in time, and nobody was hurt... except me... but who counts a few flower bush scrapes anyway?

We also got to watch a good bit of tennis: I saw the Williams sisters play together. I watched Andy Roddick's last match before retirement from both court-side and from the roof. I saw Sharapova, Azarenka, Djokovic, Federer, and all of the other impossible names up close and personal, and it was quite thrilling. For someone who has never been a tennis fan, I've grown to really appreciate it.

So, that was my "quick" summary of the past three weeks... I'm sure I've forgotten things, and we're all just going to have to accept that. I'm now back in Manhattan working as an Assistant Casting Director for Mungioli Theatricals. My experience at the Open has definitely reminded me of how thankful I am for this job!

Speaking of, I have work in the morning, so I think it's time to call it a night.

Grace be with you,
Lindsey Shea

The Broke Girl's Guide to Watching the Olympics

I don't understand the popular phrase "broke college kid"... College kids have it easy - especially if they live in the dorm like I did. They have furniture provided for them, someone to clean the bathroom, meals served daily, access to a gym, events planned to keep them entertained, cable and internet access... Now that I think about it, It's like a luxury group home without the smell of pudding! Ok, so maybe the facilities aren't always state of the art and the food isn't always something to rave about, but I'm realizing I took a lot of things for granted in college.

The afore mentioned popular phrase should be amended to the following:
"broke post-college kid with an unpaid internship trying to make it on his/her own in a new city"
Now, I understand that it doesn't quite roll off the tongue, and it's easier to have sympathy for a "kid" carrying around books and struggling to keep up a GPA, but things get pretty crazy when you make the leap from education to practice.

I should clarify a few things. I'm not claiming to be broke. I'm not complaining. I'm not trying to make you feel sorry for me. I've been very blessed to have been able to save up money from previous jobs (I started saving for my move to NYC at eight years old), capitalize on birthday and graduation gifts, and supplement my current lack of income with odd jobs and the selling of my sweet little car. And what's best is, I'm living my dream! There are, however, a few things that I've had to get creative with. Fortunately, creativity runs in the family.

Now, let's switch gears...

I LOVE THE OLYMPICS!!
I love the competition, I love the spirit, I love sports, I love the camaraderie, I love the excitement, I love the events, I love the scenery, I love the back-stories, I love that it only happens every four years (unless you count summer and winter together... but we're just going to focus on summer), and I love that the entire world is watching.

My love of the olympics began in 1996 when the Olympic Games were held in Atlanta. We lived in Gainesville at the time, and my parents were wonderful enough to bring Erin and me to Centennial Olympic Park for the festivities. We got to watch part of the torch running, and even hold the torch. I vaguely remember getting to see rowing. I vividly remember trading pins and seeing the fountain, and I will never forget the excitement of just BEING there. I don't think I understood what a huge deal it was at the time, but I am so thankful for that experience now.

Ok, so where am I actually going with all of this? It's now time to put together the two seemingly unrelated topics of this blog. Broke post-college intern without a television or air conditioning at her apartment and Olympic Frenzy. THAT is my life right now. THAT is the city fun of this week.

So, that FINALLY brings me to the real point of this blog: Olympic Viewing as an Extreme Sport... Hold on to your hats! And let the creativity begin!

Opening Ceremony: I lucked out on this one. I got to watch the Opening Ceremony on a big flat screen TV with a bowl of ice cream and a comfy couch in Long Island (see previous blog).

The Tuesday that USA won the Women's Team Gold in Gymnastics: My friends Zach and Chase live on the upper east side and have a lovely pent house apartment with a nice TV (they work in finance or something like that - with numbers and money). I invited myself over to their place to watch, but they didn't feel like staying in the apartment, so we went to a sports bar and pigged out on pigs in a blanket, mozzarella sticks, and wings while cheering on the USA with about 30 of our new best friends.

Thursday, August 2nd: After work I went up to the East 60's to visit my friend Sarah and to pick up some face-wash she got for me. We were chatting, and she had to take a call so she told me to make myself comfortable, turn on the tv, whatever. When I turned the tv on, what did I find? You guessed it, THE OLYMPICS!!! That short visit turned into a full evening of fun. We ordered pizza, hunkered down, and watched little Gabby claim All Around Gold in Gymnastics and the Phelps/Lochte show down. It was delightful.

Friday, August 3rd: My friend Katherine and I went to Times Square at 6:30 in the morning to wait in line for Rush tickets to ONCE that went on sale at 10am. We obviously didn't get much sleep the night before, so we had full intentions of just going back to the apartment, sleeping all day, and seeing the show that evening. Of course, that didn't happen. We got our tickets and realized we were wide awake. Now, Katherine has a pretty janky TV. It doesn't play DVD's, and it only turns on when it feels like it. Well, it didn't feel like it at first. We tried to turn on the TV, but gave up. 15 minutes later we randomly start to hear Olympic commentators, and eventually the screen illuminates to reveal the daytime event coverage!!! YAY!!!!!! We were so excited! We had a wonderful time watching track and field, cheering for volleyball, and making fun of water polo... Those bonnets are just a mess... They made those girls look like Amish sea horses. I even made one of my own... I blame lack of sleep... Clearly I have no shame in my Olympic pride, but you've got to admit, it's a pretty good replica:

Last night my need for Olympic coverage continued. I met Katherine after work and we decided to get some food. We couldn't figure out what we wanted so we went to Washington Square Park to find a food cart. Nothing. We started walking. We were trying to figure out what we wanted to eat. New York can be extremely frustrating for two indecisive "broke" girls. There are just too many food options. We eventually decided that we didn't care what we ate, we just wanted to watch the Olympics. So we had a plan. The search began. We passed a sports bar that looked super sketchy. We decided to keep looking. We passed another sports bar that was PACKED. We decided to keep looking. We went into a sports bar that looked pleasantly uncrowded - they didn't serve food. We decided to keep looking. We passed a restaurant that was showing the Olympics on the TVs, we looked at the menu, and there was nothing under $10. I can totally understand that, really I can, but they were serving burgers and fries and things like that. NOT worth it. We decided to keep looking. FINALLY, an hour and a half and a bunch of walking later, we found a pizza place in Union Square that was showing an Olympic commercial. We assumed that meant they were playing the Olympics. We were wrong. It was a spanish soap opera. Clearly nobody was watching that, so we very sweetly asked if they would change the channel to NBC so we could watch the Olympics. *insert eye batting and a sweet smile*

They were so nice, not only to change the channel for us, but for not kicking us out at any point during the three hours we just sat and watched! It was so great! People would come and go, eat their pizza slice, watch an event or two, and go about their merry business. Not us. We were planted and hooked! We made some friends with Australian tourists who got obnoxious when the Australian runner won her race. We made friends with the little old lady who chanted USA USA USA after every gymnast finished a routine (even the Russians). Most importantly, though, we found exactly what we wanted - cheap food and Olympic coverage. 

Today, I've decided that while I'm at work and there's not much going on, I'll be scouring the internet for news, updates, and videos I've missed.

I've still got 4 days to feed my obsession, and I can only hope that both the creativity and the access to coverage continue.

As always, going for the gold!

Grace be with you,

Lindsey Shea