Trusting

We moved back to Tampa a year ago last week, just for the record. If you collect or record records.

Last night I received a call from a girlfriend back up in NYC. This is a girl who daily encouraged me, for seven years straight, with my quest to make it as an improv performer or as a sketch writer, and for a brief period of time, as a Hand Model (don't laugh, I have great, child-like hands).  I was dreading her question. The question that I knew was on her mind but that she was footing gently around. And then, right as I was breathing in the receiver to make it sound like we had a bad connection (seriously, this trick does not work, don't be me) so that I could avoid the turn in the conversation that I saw coming at me like a freight train, she asked. "So are you still pursuing any of your dreams down in the South?" Crickets. A long, long line of crickets passed between us. I was hoping she'd hang up. She stayed on the line. "Not really" was all that I could finally say.

I'm struggling currently to even know what my dreams are. Do I still want to act? That book that I've sketched out about my time in NYC, which is currently sitting only halfway written...do I really want to finish it? Do I seriously want to go back to school to pursue a Masters in Special Education? I'm 33. I should have my life figured out. Or maybe that's just what the enemy wants me to think. Maybe he prefers my heart to be in a state of discouragement....

"Trust me" These two words. I keep hearing them. Continually. "Trust me." I hear them in my heart when I'm having a bad day, when my son is acting a fool, when the car won't start, when our search for a house of our own falls short, and when God's hand seems to have disappeared. "Trust me." My husband reminds me to have Faith. To trust that God is leading us somewhere great, he reminds me to look at what God has already done for us in just the past year alone. He's a better person than I am. Don't get me wrong, I'm excellent at being able to look back at events in my life and point them all towards God-I know full well what He can do and what He has already done. It's in the here and now, when my questions are many and my answers are few, that I struggle.  I guess that's why I have been brought to this place. To learn to trust.

So...my dreams. If I were to be 100% honest with myself, I would say that my current dream is to just be a mom while the kids are small. I want to raise my son in a home that is filled with love, books, building things and then breaking them down with fast moving tiny cars, baking, and zero deadlines on my end. I worked full time for the first 15 months of his life, and I hated being away from him, hated every second of it. When he begins school, I would love to then return to the classroom, and be focused and driven once again.  But not until that day arrives. I think I have feared saying this aloud (i still haven't..loophole since this is in writing only), because in a world filled with so many women taking over the business world, this fact made me sound, in my mind, lazy and outdated. But this is my heart. It's what I want most, and in time, God will restore my story with a way to be creative. I trust that.

 So yes, I guess I AM pursuing my dreams. The dreams have just changed, the dreamer has not.

By the way, this is what it looks like on my end when I write a blog; send me coffee: 

Leaving New York

To see pictures of all of the events listed below, click through our blog. It's all there. Somewhere.

It has been almost a year since my last post, and almost everything in our lives has now changed. Around January of this year, we began casually talking about leaving New York City. We needed a break. We needed space. We needed to be in a place that allowed us to be financially stable. Our talks turned into prayers. Our prayers turned into doors being shut and a clear path being opened in the last place I think we had ever thought of; back to Tampa. I had mixed thoughts about this. Tampa is the place of my birth.  It is where our families are. It's comfortable. But comfortable seemed boring to me. Internally, I fought this idea. I refused to pack. I cried. I told no one. And I prayed. Slowly, my heart began to change. In March, I resigned from my job. For six years I was a Second Grade teacher at a private school. I loved these kids more than I can ever describe, and the staff that I worked with were all people whom I had come to regard as my family. The announcement was made to our community towards the end of the school year, and the emails and calls and words that I received, and am still receiving, from the parents and students alike still stir emotions deep within me. Everything moved quickly from that point on. Too quickly. We packed, we said goodbye to our friends, and we left the city that we had called home since our wedding day back in 2006. Even though it felt right, it didn't feel real.

Two weeks ago, I returned alone to New York City for the wedding of my dear friend Alexis. Flying in and seeing the city below me brought back a huge rush of emotions, and I knew that I would need to spend some time dealing with that while I was in town. Therefore, the day that I was set to fly back out, I spent some time walking around and saying goodbye to my city.

First, I walked by 308 E 83rd St. This rundown, walk-up brownstone was our first home together. We lived in a studio on the first floor that contained just enough room for our bed, a futon, a TV, and several families of mice that all banded together and refused to die. This is the year that we had nothing. We were flat out broke. Our idea of a good time was to take a few dollars and go buy some cheap treats at the deli down the street, then we'd come home and watch the cooking channel, which is the only channel that we picked up since we didn't have cable. We scraped by. We killed mice. We laughed. We both began to perform on various stages across the city. We killed some more mice. We were happy.

I thought next about walking by our second apartment in the city, which was located about 20 blocks north in Spanish Harlem, but my time was short so I hopped on a city bus and just thought about that apartment instead. This was the year that Scott decided to move from being a Photographer's Assistant to owning his own Photography LLC. We weren't sure how it would turn out, so we did what a lot of people in NYC do, but is looked upon as strange anywhere else-we took on two roommates. It was now myself and three guys. The stories I could tell from this year are many, mostly humorousness in nature, but I won't. Though I will say, I really miss our neighbor that would dance, stretch and flex in front of her bathroom mirror while all 4 of us would huddle around the kitchen window and watch. She was fun. Thank you, you.

I then took the bus and headed down to the Upright Citizens Brigade Theater on W 26th st. It was here that I first took the stage (and completely bombed) on my first ever improv show. It was here that I studied over the course of two years and actually got pretty decent up on that stage. This place became my home away from home. I was good. I was receiving pretty great feedback and was making friends with people who are now in ridiculous positions within the entertainment industry. It was a rush. It was also here that I first spoke the words "I'm pregnant" aloud. I told my group right before we took the stage for what would turn out to be my last show. Then, the lights came on, my son kicked me in the ribs, throwing up was on the horizon, and I just sat down. Right there on the stage. My entire team of guys sat down around me as I was dry heaving in front of the audience, and they created a bit that turned into a self help sketch. I loved those guys. I miss that stage.

I walked past Lenox Hill Hospital. Here was the place that my baby boy, MacPherson Charles DeVore, entered into the world, followed shortly after by Beyonce's baby. Just saying.  We placed MacPherson in a taxi two days later and brought him home to Roosevelt Island- our third, and final apartment in the city. We spent four years on this island and we met a ton of characters, mostly seniors as our home was located within a retirement community. On the day that our moving vans came, they cried. They told me that my son and his smile had blessed them and that they wished us well. They were precious.
 
The rest of the time I spent wandering on foot around Chelsea and the West Village. I drank coffee, people watched,and I silently thanked God for allowing me six wonderful, dream fulfilling years here in this great city. Then, I threw away my coffee, called my husband, and hopped in a taxi to head back to collect my belongings and fly back home to Tampa. Tampa; where I am still figuring out my next steps, but I am thoroughly enjoying my days spent at home watching my son grow up around his family and the ocean. I am thankful, thankful for it all.

Movie shoot

I am currently working at the summer camp held by my school. It's
nothing too exciting, except that I love the people I am working with
and the pay is good for the work that we do, which is close to none.

Movie trailers have been parked outside of our front door this entire week, so I did my research and discovered that it is for a movie which is going to be called Baby Mama, staring Tina Fey and Amy Poehler. This makes me happy because I loved these two on SNL (no comment on the current cast, let's just say that they need me.)

Today I had a 2 hour break, so I went out into the streets and began to wander around. I found a great spot that was so close, I was a bit scared that they would ask me to leave, but no one did so I remained still with an "I'm supposed to be here" look on my face. I was now standing behind a cameraman watching them film, when out of a building behind me walks Tina. She stands right next to me, and me, usually being very quick with my words, can only muster up, "So, you been filming here long?" She was very nice and we spoke for a short time, then she had to go back to filming.

It's random things like this which make me love this city.
~Amy~