Love is touching souls, surely you've touched mine.
So when I do an update, I really do an update. For those that are remotely interested in my life, and also curious as to why I've been AWOL these past months...here ya go.
First here's a brief history of me. I'm a dancer/performer. First and foremost, that is what I do. Granted I don't always get a chance to do that ALL THE TIME, because I do have to pay bills, but still that is who I am. I dance for the most sought-after choreographer in Charlotte. Because of him I get to perform for the Charlotte Philharmonic, in televised shows, and local musicals, for which he has won almost every award within the area. He's the Bob Fosse of the Piedmont. And really guys, I'm not bragging, just setting up the tale. I also teach for him at his local studio, which enables me to be able to utilize my degree and make some money doing something that I love. It may not be a lot, but when you wait tables the rest of your time, being around creativity (even if it is middle school creativity) can be therapeutic. Not to mention that all of his teachers can take as many classes as they like for FREE. And to top it all off, this man is an amazing friend.
Which brings me to my lovely little segway of FRIENDS. My friends mean the world to me. THE WORLD. I don't have many, out my own choosing. I like having a handful of people who all get along with each other and I can trust, as opposed to various friends from various circles who occasionally run into each other at the wild parties I throw. No, I like it small and intimate. I know for a fact that my friends would throw down any amount of couth they have if someone were doing wrong by me, and I would do the same. No hesitation. It's all about loyalty and character with me, and this past weekend, someone challenged my character.
As some of you may know, I have been planning on moving to Washington DC this February. Some of my best friends from college moved up there immediately after graduation in winter '05, and I was to join them a year later once my finances were in order. I would visit and hear about all the great artistic opportunities. Dance classes to teach, museums to intern at, outreach programs for arts endowment organizations. All of my interests were being dangled in front of me, and I couldn't wait. The only problem was that while they were in DC that whole year, I was still in Charlotte, beginning new relationships, and strengthening old ones. I was making new contacts in the area, and doing more shows, than I had ever done while I was in college. AND I had a boyfriend. An honest to god real TOUCHABLE boyfriend. Not a high school one, where you giggle and experiment, or a college one, that you drag to parties and argue about things you think are adult, but aren't. No, he could honestly be a keeper. He was the kinda guy that I would think I could never have, but turns out I got. MY BEST FRIEND. The guy that I could tell absolutely everything to, and he would GET IT. He was a fangirl's dream. It was as if my very own Carter, or Luke, or hell, even Mulder had been given to me. Soooo, when October rolled around, and I had to give them a definite "yes" or "no" to my moving up there, I was starting to feel a little uneasy. I would ask my mom for advice, but she really couldn't give it to me, because of course she would want me to stay. Our relationship is way stronger than even Rory and Lorelai's. Couldn't ask my dad, because he would go "protective father" on me. My friends all said "stay, stay". So I ended up back with the therapist. The therapist said "cold feet". I was told that being in Charlotte is fine, but if I didn't go up to DC, I would regret it when I ended up married, pregnant, and tied down. Well, that's pressure filled and ominous. So, I figured...I'd go. I'd make the move. I psych myself up by watching The West Wing a lot, which turned into a whole other problem that I'll get to later.
Then it was December. Birthday, Christmas, Chanukah, New Year's, and another Birthday (all in that order). Ah the holidays. Friends, family, guilt, trepidation. I was miserable. I didn't want to move, I didn't want to leave my family, and I didn't want to leave my friends. To top it all off my soon-to-be roommates were demanding January rent ($580 PER PERSON, thankyouverymuch) even though they had repeatedly informed me that since I would not be moving until February I would not have to pay January rent. Well finally, after heated discussion and some crying on my part, they said February rent would be sufficient. Good, because after my security deposit, I was running low on funds. I signed the lease for our new three bedroom condo in Bethesda and started telling myself that everything would be fine. Sure I had no job, but my step-mom's friend was gonna hook me up with a job at the World Bank. Sure, I had nowhere to take dance classes, but I could take the metro to the Alexandria and only pay $20 (wtf?) to dance. Sure, my roommates had great dancing careers, even if they did forget to mention that they also had to work THREE more jobs EACH, to just pay the bills. But it was going to totally be worth it because it was WASHINGTON and I couldn't let my friends down. I have that whole loyalty thing going for me.
So, two weeks ago I went to visit the place I would soon call home. I would see the condo, and everything would fall into place. Except I got lost. And even though my friends knew I would be arriving around 6pm, they decided to go and take dance classes. You know, instead of skipping that night to welcome me to my new home. Of course they showed up around 8pm, after I had taken myself to the CVS to wait until they got back. Once I got them on the phone they were able to get me un-lost and into my safe condo. But, oops! The balcony door doesn't lock. Well, it's ok. We're on the second floor and surely the crime capital doesn't have burglars who can climb ladders. And ouch! What was that? Oh, it was just my closet doors falling off the hinges and onto my makeshift mattress as I sleep. No biggie. Of course we're all very lucky that the metro is just a few blocks away. You COULD get in your car and drive to the metro just to pay a parking fee at the lot, but why pay money when you can simply take the shortcut. Just simply walk through the woods by yourself to get to DC's public transit system. And while your walking, you might as well tattoo a giant target onto your forehead because 'SOMEONE PLEASE MUG/RAPE ME!' ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? I have to live HERE? I have to pay almost $600 myself for this shit hole? Ummmm, no. And to top it all off, the next night I was promised food and martinis. Quiet eveing out with the girls. We were to go out by 6pm so all I had were some crackers to munch on for lunch. When they showed up at the condo around 7pm to get ready, I was a little hungry. When they each took showers and then informed me that what I was wearing wasn't "DC" enough and told me to change I was irritated. When we ended up at a bar around 9pm which didn't serve food, I was pissed. When they told me I was a party pooper because I wouldn't drink a martini for fear that I may pass out drunk from my lack of a full stomach, I was furious. When we finally made it to taco bell by 11pm I was livid.
I called all of my Charlotte friends who said, come home. I called my boyfriend, and he said he would come up there and physically drag me out of that place because it wasn't safe. Then finally, I realized that there was one more person that I should ask if moving up to DC was what I wanted to do. Me. I was sooooo worried over doing the right thing by my friends that I didn't think about what I wanted. I didn't want to fuck my roommates over and make them hate me, so I signed the lease. I didn't want them to question my loyalty so I agreed to come up there. But from October 'til January I have cried EVERY DAY. Seriously. That's not something that a happy person does. That's not what someone does who knows they've made the right decision. And did my roommates ever ONCE think about me this whole time? No, they only took care of themselves. So, I am now taking care of myself. 26 years old, about damn time.
When I got back to Charlotte, I looked over the lease and found a loophole. If you didn't have employment and would be unable to pay rent you could give thirty days notice and pay for that thirty days rent to terminate your contract. So, I sent my thirty days, paid my February rent and called my roommates to tell them what was going on. I did everything I was supposed to do. When I talked to the roommates they said they would call me later that night and hung up on me. That was last Thursday. By Sunday, I still had not heard from them. I didn't blame them. I made a mistake by signing the lease to begin with. True, I signed it for them, but my loyalties ended up doing more bad than good. I understand that. If I could go back and change things I would, but it doesn't work that way. So when Sunday night rolled around, and I got a call from them, I was surprised. They said they still wanted to be my friends they said that they would never end a friendship over something like this. "We aren't like that", they said. But then they told me that I was morally corrupt for treating them this way. They told me that I had no character or loyalty to them or else I would never do anything like this. They told me I should promise them more than just one month's rent (which I don't have since I'm broke and jobless) They told me that even though I fulfilled my legal obligation to the rent, I didn't fulfill my moral obligation as a friend. Right then and there I decided that if there is one thing that these girls did not have a right to do, it was to attack my moral character. So I, Emily Katherine Hunter, ended a friendship. Who knows if we will ever get back on track? Maybe, maybe not. But as of now, it feels like the whole world has been lifted off my shoulders.
I quit my job waiting tables. I'm gonnna see what is out there for me in Charlotte. I've never bothered to look. Maybe I'll end up with a job that will put me on the right track, and I'll move to DC on my own terms down the road, maybe I'll go back to school and get my masters, or some sort of certification, or maybe I'll have a crappy job at the bank here, just like I would've if I had moved. But the important thing is that I will still have my free dance classes, my shows to perform in, my friends, and my family. Because as long as I have my passions and my relationships, the rest is crap. End Scene.
So, let's talk about my new reason to squee like a fangirl. Joshua Lyman. Or Bradley Whitford. They're one in the same. Take your pick. First and foremost, it's the dimples. Oh dear god, the dimples. Also it's the funny, intelligent, ego maniac, cock of the walk, yet vulnerable 'everyone I've ever loved has left me' thing he's got going on. Not to mention the Jewish boy thing. I love a good Jewish boy. Not that Bradley Whitford is Jewish, but his Joshua Lyman is and that makes me want to do very bad things. Hee. And I don't know why I had never noticed before. I mean, yeah, when Sorkin left The West Wing, I checked out, too. But I've gotten sucked back in again. DVDs are wonderful things, and I don't even mind the new ones, especially since I know the show is ending. AND Josh and Donna. JEBUS! How did I never ship them? Because the UST makes me ache. And if I'm not going to live in DC, I can go to this fictional wonderful DC where the white house administration cares about one another, and the good of the country instead of what we have now, because all we've got now is shit. So, yeah. That's my new thing. God help me.
First here's a brief history of me. I'm a dancer/performer. First and foremost, that is what I do. Granted I don't always get a chance to do that ALL THE TIME, because I do have to pay bills, but still that is who I am. I dance for the most sought-after choreographer in Charlotte. Because of him I get to perform for the Charlotte Philharmonic, in televised shows, and local musicals, for which he has won almost every award within the area. He's the Bob Fosse of the Piedmont. And really guys, I'm not bragging, just setting up the tale. I also teach for him at his local studio, which enables me to be able to utilize my degree and make some money doing something that I love. It may not be a lot, but when you wait tables the rest of your time, being around creativity (even if it is middle school creativity) can be therapeutic. Not to mention that all of his teachers can take as many classes as they like for FREE. And to top it all off, this man is an amazing friend.
Which brings me to my lovely little segway of FRIENDS. My friends mean the world to me. THE WORLD. I don't have many, out my own choosing. I like having a handful of people who all get along with each other and I can trust, as opposed to various friends from various circles who occasionally run into each other at the wild parties I throw. No, I like it small and intimate. I know for a fact that my friends would throw down any amount of couth they have if someone were doing wrong by me, and I would do the same. No hesitation. It's all about loyalty and character with me, and this past weekend, someone challenged my character.
As some of you may know, I have been planning on moving to Washington DC this February. Some of my best friends from college moved up there immediately after graduation in winter '05, and I was to join them a year later once my finances were in order. I would visit and hear about all the great artistic opportunities. Dance classes to teach, museums to intern at, outreach programs for arts endowment organizations. All of my interests were being dangled in front of me, and I couldn't wait. The only problem was that while they were in DC that whole year, I was still in Charlotte, beginning new relationships, and strengthening old ones. I was making new contacts in the area, and doing more shows, than I had ever done while I was in college. AND I had a boyfriend. An honest to god real TOUCHABLE boyfriend. Not a high school one, where you giggle and experiment, or a college one, that you drag to parties and argue about things you think are adult, but aren't. No, he could honestly be a keeper. He was the kinda guy that I would think I could never have, but turns out I got. MY BEST FRIEND. The guy that I could tell absolutely everything to, and he would GET IT. He was a fangirl's dream. It was as if my very own Carter, or Luke, or hell, even Mulder had been given to me. Soooo, when October rolled around, and I had to give them a definite "yes" or "no" to my moving up there, I was starting to feel a little uneasy. I would ask my mom for advice, but she really couldn't give it to me, because of course she would want me to stay. Our relationship is way stronger than even Rory and Lorelai's. Couldn't ask my dad, because he would go "protective father" on me. My friends all said "stay, stay". So I ended up back with the therapist. The therapist said "cold feet". I was told that being in Charlotte is fine, but if I didn't go up to DC, I would regret it when I ended up married, pregnant, and tied down. Well, that's pressure filled and ominous. So, I figured...I'd go. I'd make the move. I psych myself up by watching The West Wing a lot, which turned into a whole other problem that I'll get to later.
Then it was December. Birthday, Christmas, Chanukah, New Year's, and another Birthday (all in that order). Ah the holidays. Friends, family, guilt, trepidation. I was miserable. I didn't want to move, I didn't want to leave my family, and I didn't want to leave my friends. To top it all off my soon-to-be roommates were demanding January rent ($580 PER PERSON, thankyouverymuch) even though they had repeatedly informed me that since I would not be moving until February I would not have to pay January rent. Well finally, after heated discussion and some crying on my part, they said February rent would be sufficient. Good, because after my security deposit, I was running low on funds. I signed the lease for our new three bedroom condo in Bethesda and started telling myself that everything would be fine. Sure I had no job, but my step-mom's friend was gonna hook me up with a job at the World Bank. Sure, I had nowhere to take dance classes, but I could take the metro to the Alexandria and only pay $20 (wtf?) to dance. Sure, my roommates had great dancing careers, even if they did forget to mention that they also had to work THREE more jobs EACH, to just pay the bills. But it was going to totally be worth it because it was WASHINGTON and I couldn't let my friends down. I have that whole loyalty thing going for me.
So, two weeks ago I went to visit the place I would soon call home. I would see the condo, and everything would fall into place. Except I got lost. And even though my friends knew I would be arriving around 6pm, they decided to go and take dance classes. You know, instead of skipping that night to welcome me to my new home. Of course they showed up around 8pm, after I had taken myself to the CVS to wait until they got back. Once I got them on the phone they were able to get me un-lost and into my safe condo. But, oops! The balcony door doesn't lock. Well, it's ok. We're on the second floor and surely the crime capital doesn't have burglars who can climb ladders. And ouch! What was that? Oh, it was just my closet doors falling off the hinges and onto my makeshift mattress as I sleep. No biggie. Of course we're all very lucky that the metro is just a few blocks away. You COULD get in your car and drive to the metro just to pay a parking fee at the lot, but why pay money when you can simply take the shortcut. Just simply walk through the woods by yourself to get to DC's public transit system. And while your walking, you might as well tattoo a giant target onto your forehead because 'SOMEONE PLEASE MUG/RAPE ME!' ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? I have to live HERE? I have to pay almost $600 myself for this shit hole? Ummmm, no. And to top it all off, the next night I was promised food and martinis. Quiet eveing out with the girls. We were to go out by 6pm so all I had were some crackers to munch on for lunch. When they showed up at the condo around 7pm to get ready, I was a little hungry. When they each took showers and then informed me that what I was wearing wasn't "DC" enough and told me to change I was irritated. When we ended up at a bar around 9pm which didn't serve food, I was pissed. When they told me I was a party pooper because I wouldn't drink a martini for fear that I may pass out drunk from my lack of a full stomach, I was furious. When we finally made it to taco bell by 11pm I was livid.
I called all of my Charlotte friends who said, come home. I called my boyfriend, and he said he would come up there and physically drag me out of that place because it wasn't safe. Then finally, I realized that there was one more person that I should ask if moving up to DC was what I wanted to do. Me. I was sooooo worried over doing the right thing by my friends that I didn't think about what I wanted. I didn't want to fuck my roommates over and make them hate me, so I signed the lease. I didn't want them to question my loyalty so I agreed to come up there. But from October 'til January I have cried EVERY DAY. Seriously. That's not something that a happy person does. That's not what someone does who knows they've made the right decision. And did my roommates ever ONCE think about me this whole time? No, they only took care of themselves. So, I am now taking care of myself. 26 years old, about damn time.
When I got back to Charlotte, I looked over the lease and found a loophole. If you didn't have employment and would be unable to pay rent you could give thirty days notice and pay for that thirty days rent to terminate your contract. So, I sent my thirty days, paid my February rent and called my roommates to tell them what was going on. I did everything I was supposed to do. When I talked to the roommates they said they would call me later that night and hung up on me. That was last Thursday. By Sunday, I still had not heard from them. I didn't blame them. I made a mistake by signing the lease to begin with. True, I signed it for them, but my loyalties ended up doing more bad than good. I understand that. If I could go back and change things I would, but it doesn't work that way. So when Sunday night rolled around, and I got a call from them, I was surprised. They said they still wanted to be my friends they said that they would never end a friendship over something like this. "We aren't like that", they said. But then they told me that I was morally corrupt for treating them this way. They told me that I had no character or loyalty to them or else I would never do anything like this. They told me I should promise them more than just one month's rent (which I don't have since I'm broke and jobless) They told me that even though I fulfilled my legal obligation to the rent, I didn't fulfill my moral obligation as a friend. Right then and there I decided that if there is one thing that these girls did not have a right to do, it was to attack my moral character. So I, Emily Katherine Hunter, ended a friendship. Who knows if we will ever get back on track? Maybe, maybe not. But as of now, it feels like the whole world has been lifted off my shoulders.
I quit my job waiting tables. I'm gonnna see what is out there for me in Charlotte. I've never bothered to look. Maybe I'll end up with a job that will put me on the right track, and I'll move to DC on my own terms down the road, maybe I'll go back to school and get my masters, or some sort of certification, or maybe I'll have a crappy job at the bank here, just like I would've if I had moved. But the important thing is that I will still have my free dance classes, my shows to perform in, my friends, and my family. Because as long as I have my passions and my relationships, the rest is crap. End Scene.
So, let's talk about my new reason to squee like a fangirl. Joshua Lyman. Or Bradley Whitford. They're one in the same. Take your pick. First and foremost, it's the dimples. Oh dear god, the dimples. Also it's the funny, intelligent, ego maniac, cock of the walk, yet vulnerable 'everyone I've ever loved has left me' thing he's got going on. Not to mention the Jewish boy thing. I love a good Jewish boy. Not that Bradley Whitford is Jewish, but his Joshua Lyman is and that makes me want to do very bad things. Hee. And I don't know why I had never noticed before. I mean, yeah, when Sorkin left The West Wing, I checked out, too. But I've gotten sucked back in again. DVDs are wonderful things, and I don't even mind the new ones, especially since I know the show is ending. AND Josh and Donna. JEBUS! How did I never ship them? Because the UST makes me ache. And if I'm not going to live in DC, I can go to this fictional wonderful DC where the white house administration cares about one another, and the good of the country instead of what we have now, because all we've got now is shit. So, yeah. That's my new thing. God help me.