For the first time in my adult working life, I just voted to strike. Sometimes I forget that I’m in a guild, as I don’t feel like a laborer. Writers’ work happens mostly in our minds, but we still need a guild to protect us from tomfoolery, like, say, the fact that tv and film producers’ income has DOUBLED in the last eight years, while writer’s income has decreased by 30 percent. Our pension is suffering, we’re working for less money, and we’re expected to do it with gratitude that we are working at all. The problem with this is that writers are dreamers by nature, which is super easy to take advantage of. I’m still sort of shocked that I get paid at all to write, but I have to put that aside and stand up for fair pay — especially given the INSANE amount of money that is being made off of what we write. And so, STRIKE! I’m choosing to hope that this is just a bargaining tool for the negotiators, but either way — see you on the picket lines, or back in the writer’s room with what we deserve (SNACKS) (AND HEALTHCARE)
On the way home from lunch yesterday, Morrison and I drove by some newly built, pretty rad looking condos for sale, and decided to casually pop into the open house, in a very low-stakes and Sunday sort of way. What followed was THE TWO OF US STOMPING AROUND THE BEAUTIFUL BRAND NEW PERECT AND AMAZING PLACE LIKE CHILDREN, HEARTS PALPITATING AS WE DISCOVERED EVEN MORE CLOSETS AND BATHROOMS AND A MYRIAD OF SINKS, excitedly declaring where we could put things like babies and desks. And turns out, we might actually be able to afford it. We were planning on staying put in our place for a while, but a casual look at a vacant spot has turned into an all out fantasy of dinner parties and balcony and (small, but adorable) yard. Who knows if it’s actually practical, financially and life-wise, and we are still investigating. Stay tuned to find out if we are people who buy property after looking at it for five minutes. (Maybe. But also maybe not.) WEEEE!
LET’S JUST SAY COMPLETELY HYPOTHETICAL FOR EXAMPLE THAT YOU’RE GOING ON YOUR HONEYMOON WHICH ONLY HAPPENS ONCE IN YOUR LIFE AND YOU PLANNED IT MONTHS AGO AND NOW SUDDENLY TIME HAS MOVED AND YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO LEAVE TONIGHT. And maybe you just realized a few weeks ago that your destination of choice, Bali, is in fact enduring its ‘wet season’ during your visit month of choice, and then maybe you look at the forecast seconds before you leave and discover that it’s basically going to look like this the entire time:
And you feel dumb. You also feel disappointed. BUT ALSO YOU FEEL RESOURCEFUL. Also you know how to use the internet. Also you have a husband who is patient and less neurotic, and also you’ve been paid handsomely for your work, as of late. WHY BE PAID HANDSOMELY, IF AT ALL, IF YOU DON’T EVERY NOW AND THEN, LIGHT A LITTLE BIT OF IT ON FIRE TO LAST MINUTE CHANGE YOUR TRIP TO THIS INSTEAD?
PS, we’re off to Hua Hin, Thailand, instead, BECAUSE B.
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My mind sees what it wants. I just got this letter from my bank:
Which I first read as ‘Working together to keep your Coconuts protected.’ Call it a mild learning disability, early signs of a stroke, or perhaps call it what it is: my brain says nay to all adult things and ONLY EVER WANTS TO BE INSIDE OF A BOUNCY CASTLE AT A CHILD’S BIRTHDAY PARTY, COVERED IN FROSTING.
Fudgebook reminded me yesterday that just five years ago, I was LITERALLY WRITING HOMEMADE MONOLOGUES TO FEED MYSELF AND PROVIDE MYSELF WITH LIGHT WHILE I WROTE. I will now take a moment to reflect on how far I’ve come, and how much has changed.
I think I am actually still out of peanut butter.
My phone rings with an unknown NYC number. It’s probably Broadway calling to see / beg if they can do one of my plays on their Broadway, so I answer.
Sweet Girl: Hi, Bekah?
Me: Yes? Hi!
Sweet Girl: My name is very sweet and professional and excited undergraduate theater student. I’m calling from the New School’s annual fund.
Sweet Girl: …Hmm?
Me: I can’t — I’m kind of driving to work right now, it’s very dangerous.
Sweet Girl: I only need a moment of your time. I just wanted to tell you about some of the exciting things going on at the New School right now.
Me: That’s awesome, but I’m still paying off the 120K that I owe the New School, so not so much feeling a donation at this point in time.
Sweet Girl: I totally get that. I just wanted to share with you that I’m just finishing my first semester at the New School, and I wouldn’t even be here as a theater artist without the gifts of people like you. Without my scholarship, this wouldn’t be an option for me. And I’ve just spent the last semester creating important work with my classmates that I feel really speaks to things happening in our country right now that we’re having trouble having conversations about.
Me: HOW DO I PAY YOU.
Sweet Girl: I can send you a link.
Me: SEND IT NOW.
Accountant: Okay, so there’s your year end report numbers financial terms SEP IRA contribution payout payroll words.
Accountant: And sometime in the new year, I can sit down with you and your husband and talk about filing jointly and combining accounts.
Accountant: ….your husband? You said you got engaged?
Accountant: What is that?
Me: I’M SOMEHOW SCREAMING AND SAYING YAY AT THE SAME TIME.
Accountant: Okay. You done?
Accountant: ….I’ll wait.
Accountant: So I’ve finished your first quarterly review…
Me: okay great! So you’ve counted how many quarters I have. I have a lot of quarters. Parking and laundry for DAYZ Y’ALL.
Accountant: ….No. Quarterly. Review. I explained this to you.
Accountant:…..So, I need to run an additional payroll, you’re about $30,000 behind in taxes.
Accountant: You owe 30K. In taxes. To the Government.
Me: ….what? WHY?
Accountant: Because of your income bracket and because you are an American.
Me: …But where does that money come from?
Accountant:….your Business Account.
Me: But do I HAVE to pay them?
Accountant:………Yes. You have to pay them.
Me:….So my money is not really my money.
Accountant: You still there?