Money!

i've been sending off applications for internships all around the country for the past month, to any and every theatre i've heard of with a good reputation, people to learn from, and who can house and feed me. If you work hard and make the right connections an internship can be a great starting point to get you a foothold in your career. Some places don't offer housing or a basic-needs stipend though, some because the theatre can't afford it but many i think because they want to weed out any would-be applicants who don't come from a financial background in which Mummy and Daddy can pay for your rent and food without taking out a second mortgage. They don't want interns who actually need to work to make a living. I'm not bitter--this isn't really a rant, 'cos at least the theatres are up front about it. (though i did encounter one who's literature read "[the] Theatre does not charge a fee for company membership, nor does it provide a stipend." because, y'know, its important to let everyone know that we're at least honest enough to not make you pay us to be our personal slave.)

rant begins.

My biggest motivation in applying for internships is simple--i need a job. I need a career that will pay enough that i can afford a middle-class level house or apartment in a suburban or rural area. I say these areas for one reason only--I can't stand the NOISE that goes along with living in the city.

There is a railroad less than fifty yards from my house. at all times of day and night trains come through at a snail's pace, rattling my windowpane for three minutes at a time with a horn blast that is obnoxious in jackhammer-safe earplugs. At all times my ears are either bleeding from the volume or i'm laying nervously awake, waiting for the next one.

Garbage collection is between 4:20 and 6:00 every day directly under my window, thanks to a very creative design flaw in the building. This is not the regular crew of 3--a driver and two 'monbacks picking up cans and flinging their contents into the compactor. no no. this is a one-man operation, with a truck fitted with hydraulic lifts to grab the full-sized dumpster over the front and pour its contents into a hole in the roof. you'd think these people would be...trained on how to use their machinery before they're sent out on the job, but this is apparently not the case, as it takes at least five tries each time for the driver to get a proper hold on the dumpster (read: each time he fails he Drops the dumpster about five feet, which sounds similar, to the unsuspecting sleeper, to...armageddon) and then, thanks to amazing levels of intellect, once he gets the dumpster situated he proceeds to slam it numerous times into the wall of the loading dock, which of course shakes the building. GEENIUS. this is followed by another fall for the dumpster as it is gracelessly dropped from on high, then the compactor runs (its what i'd imagine a pterodactyl's screech sounds like) and then he bumps into things before finally backing out into the street (accompanied by that fun alarm-like BEEP, BEEP, BEEP 'cos you know blind people can earn a driver's license--on foggy days he blows his horn during the entire backing process) getting somehow noisily into gear, and slowly chugging away. Time required to empty one dumpster? 15 minutes. I shit you not.

I live in an upperclassman dormitory, but somehow some of the kids who live here still haven't managed to learn that "thunking rap music does not make friends out of my neighbors." Of course, i hardly need to mention that the children in my house haven't had time to learn this yet, which is why they belong back in one of those buildings that was custom-built to accommodate people just like them.

Those are the big ones, but there's always the incidentals as well--souped up cars with no mufflers tearing down the street, fights breaking out among the loiterers under my window, sporting events on the pitch across the street, alarms going off when their owners are out of town, and of course fire alarms because morons who don't know how to make popcorn seem to always be up at six in the morning. (dammit there's another train! 1:26am) Added to the stress of applying for jobs and the medley of stenches emitted by my housemates and their candles, incense, and room sprays and guess what! I've had a headache for three weeks solid!

So yeah. house in a field. no trains. no kids. i'll take my own garbage to the tip. time for bed.