Wednesday, January 26, 2005
Snowy, gray, cold
The show began an hour early yesterday, which means I should have arrived home an hour early.
Instead, I arrived home at 1:30 this morning.
The train stopped at Pelham. We sat for about a half hour due to “police activity” ahead on the tracks – but they wouldn’t tell us what or why. Then, since we were at the platform, they suggested that we get out because they didn’t know how long we’d be there.
About half of us got out of the train to walk around or smoke or use the phone or whatever.
Without any announcement, the train suddenly just pulls away. Leaving us in a suburban train station after midnight with no alternative transportation. In temperatures in the single digits (with wind chill, it was below zero).
It was an hour before someone came to get me due to getting lost. I’d just given up and was about to walk until I found a cop or a cab or something – I sure couldn’t stay out in the weather any longer. And, because it’s the suburbs, of course no one helped each other. Maybe other suburbs are filled with helpful people, but not around here. They’re also pigs on the train – they think the train crew are their maids, and throw their garbage everywhere. I think conductors should start writing tickets for littering. Usually, when I see some dumbass make a mess on the train, I gather it all up and had it to Mr. Cashmere or Mrs. Mink and say, “You dropped something” and walk away before they can do anything but take it.
And today, they’ve simply cancelled service on my line.
Why is the MTA allowed to do all of this, continue to hike fares and not answer to anyone? Because these are political appointments made by the governor. And anyone who knows me knows what a low opinion I have of the current governor.
I’m still not warmed through, I’m achy, and I have a scratchy throat.
But I need to pull it together and have a good writing day.
My contract and first check arrived yesterday, and I’m off writing.
Yesterday, I only got a couple of pages done on Ransagh, so today has to be exceptionally productive.
Last night is supposed to be my last show for six weeks. Let’s hope that’s true. My back is killing me, and I need to be able to focus on the writing. But people at the show are very excited for me, and it’s nice to have their support.
I’m reading Michael Jecks’s The Last Templar, the first of his mystery series set in 14th century Britain. He does a wonderful job, and his characters are full of surprises. I love the way they are utterly true to themselves, yet don’t fall into formula. His descriptive and sensory details are perfect – not too much, but just enough to give you a complete picture of being in the midst of it all and lose yourself in the world. He used to work in computers, but now writes and studies medieval history. Good stuff! I picked up the next two on my way to the theatre. There are 14 books, the first with a 1995 pub date. How could I have missed them? The subject matter is right up my alley.
It’s a good read, and I highly recommend it.
Okay, I have to prepare for the exterminator (who may or may not show up – you notice we go through this every month?) and then back to the keyboard.
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