Today is one of those days that will be permanently etched into my memory bank for years to come, kinda like the first time I caught my parents having sex or the moment I realized that Santa Claus wasn't real. Or the day that my grandma taught me that the secret to the meringue on my favorite lemon meringue pie...was whipped egg whites. I'll remember what I'm wearing, what i did throughout the day, and more importantly, how I'm feeling.
For the past, ehhh, 2 months or so, I've been entertaining the idea of relocating to Texas. Someone that I call a best friend was planning to move there after graduation, and had been asking that I come to live with her. Last year, that same friend asked that I come to live with her in Greensboro, NC -- a move that I WAS NOT excited about but you know me -- and I said yes. Just before I was to pack up and move, the Universe began sending me all types of work and great things in my personal life, making it impossible for me to move away in good conscience. This year, I'd briefly mentioned that I might consider moving to Houston since I'd heard so many raves about the great cost of living and salary potential there. Because I'm a makeup artist, I didn't necessarily care about salary potential because, for me, makeup money is different than corporate job money. But I was interested in learning of what Houston might have to offer me in terms of low cost of living, making it a bit easier (read: compared to DC) to work and save money and have a stepping stone towards fulfilling my career goals of working in film and television.
After several weeks of research, I decided that I would consider moving to stay with my friend, then possibly moving on to Houston. I researched photographers, other local MUAs, schools, classes, production companies, directors, everything. I found a website (www.shortfilmtexas.com) that I obsessively checked every day for job postings and crew calls. Eventually, I began responding to them. Initially, I got great feedback and was welcomed to join the crew of several short films. The more I responded, the more jobs I seemed able to get. Once I saw that there was work potential there, I got excited! I wanted to go RIGHT THEN, lol, but then I remembered: I don't have a great track record with living with friends. I've done it before with no problem, but the last two times I did...the words 'train' and 'wreck' come immediately to mind. Granted, those two brawds were both psychotic, respectively, but when I thought about that happening to my best friend and myself, I got a little depressed.
I spoke with her about it, and to be honest, the conversations were brutal. Not only was I going to chance living with a friend and absorb the consequences after, but this wouldn't be a typical move in and hang out deal. She wanted this to be her and her girlfriend's first attempt at 'community living among black women'. I didn't even know WTF that was, or why anyone would want to do it. That first convo where she described what she wanted it to be like -- a place where everyone takes care of everyone and contributes to the household in various ways based on their individual strengths, that's the gist of what I took from it -- threw me into a panic. I have been living on my own since I was about 17, and even though I'd had a child shortly thereafter, I'd only been accustomed to caring for myself and him. I don't come from a family where everyone takes care of everyone. My family PROUDLY proclaims that it's 'erry nigga for themselves up in here' when I'm home, so I knew NOTHING of cooking for the whole house, washing everyone's clothes when I wash mine, planting gardens and harvesting our own crops (an idea for the future), or any of that. We all lived very independently, and took care of ourselves. To us, that's what adults were supposed to do. She asked me if I wanted to learn to live a different way, and I said I wasn't sure, to which she responded "Well then, don't come." #Ouch . What? I wasn't. I'm 33, and I had no problem with the way I'd been living. I didn't need my parents to care for me in that way; I needed them emotionally, and learning to live communally wouldn't solve that problem.
She admitted that this would be a new experience for her, and that she wasn't really sure how it would go nor would she be tyrannical about it, but I could tell she was excited. She was determined to prove that adult black women could coexist in the same living space, harmoniously, and with intention. I, on the other hand, became very stressed out, grew several gray hairs, and had stomach pangs for days on end. I could just say no, right? It didn't sound like my scene AT.ALL. Well, I did say no. I admitted that I had too much baggage from my past experiences, that I didn't believe friends should live together, and that I concerned that I wouldn't get community living right. I didn't know how to do it. It was her girlfriend who convinced me that I should give this a chance, to trust them, and to just come and see what would happen and if things went too far to the left, we would all sit down and talk about it. That helped to sway me tremendously because, in the instance of my other two friends, none of that had occurred. One 'friend' oh-so-politely served my desk chair with an invoice, then 2 weeks later IM'd me asking me to leave. No talk, no discussion. The other, did a Jekyll & Hyde while I was away over the Thanksgiving holiday, and about a week and a half later, it was a wrap. Talking had served no purpose with that one. And I knew I wouldn't do that ever again, with someone I called a friend or anyone else.
Each time I brought up a reservation about moving in, while she assured me that this wouldn't be a repeat of that situation, my gut would cramp and cringe at the idea of sacrificing a cherished friendship to that sort of disaster. She seemed very okay with taking the risk. I was NOT. But at a point, I realized that most of that was just the fear of my past talking, and that I couldn't live with that fear forever, especially not if this would be an opportunity for me to really BREAK OUT into working on movies. So, I agreed. The conversations got easier, and she even sent me links she'd found about 'how to share household expenses when living with a couple'. This just might work out after all. I felt SO much better!!
I didn't tell anyone at first. It was my little secret. I continued to land gig after gig in Texas, I decided on a last day for my job, and i secretly began to pack my stuff at home, sorting through what I would take and what would be left behind. Gradually, the excitement of the possibility of a new start took hold, and I was literally SKIPPING with a stupid ass grin on my face everywhere I went. When my co-workers would ask 'What's goin on with you?? *side eyes*', on the outside I said 'Nothing. I'm just happy that Spring finally came.' On the inside, I sang in my schoolyard bully voice 'Iiiii'm goiiin ta Teeeeexxxxas!' No longer would I be stuck here in tiny ass Richmond with no friends and only my sister's puppy for company. No more barely OK local photographers and directors who never responded back to my texts. I was going to a whole new place, with filmmakers who had REAL interest in my talents and I was finally excited about something. I was a little proud of myself. LOL. Things at my job, the one I hated, were winding down and I knew it was time to leave regardless of Texas or not. This was a good time to wrap that job up. I don't think I'd ever been in countdown mode so much in my life, lol.
i began planning my move like a madwoman! Planning a cross country road trip was something I'd never done before, but I dove into it like a valedictorian. Crossed every T, dotted every i, even down to the groceries I needed to buy for the cooler. I knew I would finally have to tell my family, but individually, not as a group. I told my dad first. He took it surprisingly well, but he was NOT on board with me driving my car. My car is kinda old and can be temperamental in its high mileage and he refused to let me drive it. So, I saved more money up and found a van to rent and tow my car. It was a LOT of money, but I was ready. Told my mom, she went a little ballistic...but she came around eventually. My sister, on the other hand, went ALOT ballistic and never really got out of denial about it. She NEVER accepted that I would be moving away. She avoided me like the plague. :-( I gave my two weeks notice at work, but the next day, my boss called me into her office to say that her boss had decided that I didn't need to stay that full two weeks. 2 more days would be fine. *blinking* Wait...what? I NEED those 2 weeks of pay!! She made it clear that it was non-negotiable, so I walked out determined to find a way to recover those funds and still make this trip work.
Eventually I planned a going away party, and invited all my friends whom I really wanted to see before I left, whom I thought would feel some kinda way if I hadn't made time to see them. On the night of my dinner party, exactly one of those people showed up. One. Of course, Stevie came but the only other person of my 'close real life friends' who came was Ray (big shout out to Gangsta Ray! *waves* Hey Boo!). Everyone else was someone from my FB life. I don't know if that means I need new friends (probably) or if it just wasn't worth it to them. But we had a great time anyway, the food was EXCELLENT, and I was so humbled and grateful to those that took time to show up for me. I would truly miss them.
My last day at work was pretty uneventful...and awkward. A co-worker whom I'd *thought* I was growing closer to in friendship, I'd recently discovered was (and had really only ever been) just a co-worker. I'd treated her as I would a friend, not even really paying attention to the fact that she was treating me...as a...co-worker. LOL! It's the silliest thing to see now, all after the fact, but that was the truth. Once I saw that, I'd pulled away from her and began to treat her as I treated all my other co-workers. I don't think she liked that, but I hardly cared. We weren't friends. On that last day, there was so much awkwardness between us, I just wanted to skip my goodbye to her. It didn't help that she'd just had a teen suicide happen in her family over the weekend (ouch!), so she was really out of it already. I just wanted to leave. :-(
My last week at home was a blur of activity, day after day. Finalizing things, sending out deal memos, last minute chores, etc. Now that I'd resolved to drive my car to TX since renting the van was no longer an option, I had to put my car in the shop for various repairs. I could barely contain myself! One of my old organizing clients called me out of the blue to help organize her new (sickeningly beautiful) home so i spent several days working with her. I was headed into a super duper busy weekend, and once it finally ended, I got in my car and waved goodbye to Stevie, my best friend of umpteen years. That drive home was so gahtdamn long. I'd developed a severe pain in my back the night before, and wasn't sure how I would get the car all packed up by myself. I knew my parents would be NO HELP, so it would be up to me to work around that pain. I had been home for almost 2-3 hours, just piddling around the room packing things and the MOMENT i stepped outside to put a box in the trunk, it began to rain. and I mean it RAINED. The sky just opened up, and the raindrops pelted my face and my hair. But, I was determined to get it done and not wait til the next morning, and I remember saying "It's just a little rain, I'll just keep packing the car until it gets to be too bad." I'm not exaggerating when I say that in the time it took me to go inside, grab ONE box off the floor right by the living room door, swivel and head back out...the sky turned black, lightning flashed across the sky in about 3 different places, and thunder roared right above our house. Suddenly, the wind was blowing the trees sideways, the rain was coming down in droves, and I couldn't see a thing in front of me. *sigh* Ok, I'll just wait this storm out.
The next morning....
After it stormed all damn night, I leaped out of bed around 5:30 (which y'all know I NEVER do) and got started with packing again. taping up boxes, packing my suitcase, checking the bathroom for final toiletries. One of my last minute errands for the day, was to get an oil change. Jiffy Lube didn't open until 8, but it was only 7:30 so I went to buy groceries for the cooler and fill my gas tank up. I get to Jiffy Lube and they take my car in back. Not 2 minutes later, the clerk calls me out to the bay. Uh-oh. *side eye* She takes me to the car, explaining that, somehow every hose in my car is now leaking oil and the engine has no oil left in it. As she's saying this, I see a technician standing under my car and there are copious amounts of black engine oil POURING out of my car onto his hair, his shirt, everywhere. He says 'I hope you have a mechanic, and nowhere to go. We could change your oil, but it's leaking so fast, it would just pour right out. You should probably take it to a shop for repairs. ' -__- How had this happened?? I'd JUST gotten my car back, and been driving it NON-STOP for the past 100 days!! The mechanic had just given me my car back and said all i needed was one more thing. He never mentioned any leaks. At this point, it's 8:30, and I'm supposed to be on the road at 9am. I'm beginning to panic. I take the car to my mechanic, and he says to wait an hour. OK, an hour isn't that bad. As long as I'm on the road by 12.
Around 2:00, after I've been spent the better part of the morning on the phone with my then-pseudo-girlfriend, listening to her beg me to cancel this trip, I get a call from the mechanic. "Ms. Beautiful Dae, it's gonna cost an arm, a leg, a kidney, two front teeth, and all of your relaxed ends to repair your car into enough shape to safely drive it to Texas."
*face palm* *deep sigh*
Everyone is telling me to cancel this trip or, at the very least, to postpone it. They have their reasons, and I can't lie and say their reasons weren't valid...but I'm stubborn and I had given my word. Not just to my friend, but to the directors, producers, and most importantly, to myself. I'd promised that the moment an opportunity to escape this dreadful place I was in, both physically and mentally and emotionally, presented itself, i would take it, come hell or high water. Well, yesterday, the high water had come...but I'd refused to let it deter me. I revamped the plan and decided to fly to Texas instead, selling my car, taking the money, and just figuring it out when I got there. I was out of answers, I was frustrated, I felt entirely defeated, and I just wanted to be held and rocked like a baby and told that everything would be ok.
That was a long day. I spent the better part of that day and night crying. After the horrendous start to my day, having to delay a trip I'd so been looking forward to, I spent the evening breaking up with my girlfriend (for a totally unrelated reason). That night, I dreamt of demons and Michelle Obama. In church pews. eating cookies. *smh*
The next morning, i woke up and prayed. For a long ass time. I asked the Universe to please send me a clear sign -- not just a sign, but a sign that would be clear and unequivocal to ME -- of what I should do. I was truly conflicted. If I was supposed to go to Texas, for whatever the reason, make it happen, in a good way. BUT if going to Texas to live with my friend and do movies was not what I should do, please conspire to shut this trip D.O.W.N. All the way DOWN. It needs to be virtually impossible for me to leave here and go to Texas. I mean CHASTITY BELT impossible.
Right after that, I bought my plane ticket to Texas. One way. The following Tuesday, I would get on a plane, fly to Texas, and not look back. I hadn't received a clear sign. (LOL!)
Wednesday, my dad bought my car from me, and put it on CraigsList to sell after I left.
Thursday, my mom got notice that her job would be dissolved. I passed on two makeup jobs in DC, and one in NY (they were for later in June).
Friday, I received an email from a former model who was familiar with my work, saying that she would be coordinating a show in October (but the preliminary meetings would start in July) that she wanted me to be the Key Makeup Artist for. She would find a budget for it, and get back to me. I passed it on to someone else, since I wouldn't be here.
Also on Friday, I received an email from a director (in Texas) asking me to come work on his movie the very day after I was to land in Texas. But now that I would have no car to drive there (or to any of the other movies I'd landed), I would need to rent a car for it. It didn't pay in cash, only in film credits on IMDb. The moment I realized that I couldn't afford to rent a car for X amount of days to shoot this film AND bring my friend the money I'd promised her I would when I arrived, I called her to ask if I could pay her less money.
We talked about it, and she agreed, but once we hung up I realized that there was something I was missing. Moving to TEXAS wasn't supposed to be this complicated. And I had just done something to my friend that, I believe, contributes to the downfall of living-with-friends situations. And I hated myself for it. She'd offered to take me to my shoot, but I'd refused. I slept on it.
Bright and early Saturday morning and it's raining, AGAIN. I'm not going anywhere today. I lounge around all day, til it's time to get up and start packing my suitcase for Tuesday. Yes, I'm still going to go. I'm on the phone with Stevie, and I get a call on my business line, but I don't take it. I check the voicemail afterwards, and it's an LA-based Photographer whose, apparently, found my work or been referred to me somehow, and he's inquiring about rates for a lifestyle shoot on June 16 + 17, and he wants to know MY FULL DAY RATE FOR BOTH DAYS. At first I think it's a trick, so I Google dat ass with the QUICKNESS. And sure enough, I find his site, and he's a real photographer. And his work is GOOD. How the hell did he even find me?? And is he asking me for RATES!!??
Perhaps, unless you're a makeup artist, you don't know why this is huge for me. Brides? Ask me for rates. Models? Ask me for rates. Novelists and bloggers? Ask me for my editing rates. Photographers NEVER ask me for rates. NEVER. And they certainly haven't asked me for my full day rate. Again, if you're not in this business, you probably don't know that the going day rate for a working MUA or hairstylist ranges somewhere between $500-850/day in this area. In other areas, for those who have agents, its double and, in some cases, triple that amount for an 8 hour day of work. If the stylist has a GOOD agency, they can make that or double that in far less than 8 hours. Yeah. It's real.
I call him back, leave a message saying I want to discuss the details. But now I am TRULY in panic mode. It may seem obvious to my readers that I should just cancel this trip and stay here, but for me, it wasn't just about that. My friend Tia warned me not to ignore the (obvious) signs. Crystal told us a story once of her former client Neeko who, for a really long time, was hairstylist to Mary J. Blige. In negotiating the rate for a job for Neeko, when she gave the client Neeko's rate and the client immediately agreed to it, she knew she'd 'left money on the table', or had not asked for enough/had asked for less than they had been willing to pay.
It took this photographer awhile to call back, but eventually he did, and I got the details and asked him his budget. He kinda balked on it, but the moment I gave him my rate and he said "Ok, good!" I knew I'd left some money on the table, lol. But I was just excited to even be having this conversation, and would know better for next time. We talked a bit more, and he agreed to send something to me in writing the next day (with details so I could give him my day rate and my overtime rates). I knew that, if he'd agree to my rates, and I booked this gig, 1. this would change everything for me, and 2. There was no way in hell I'd go to Texas, ESPECIALLY without a car, and continue to leave money and work behind. Not even for the summer. Not even for a visit.
It had just become impossible for me to leave.
Granted, it's 5:54p the next day and I haven't heard back from Ben yet, but I'm now able to see the bigger picture in a way I wasn't before. It took me awhile, but now I see that I can't go to Texas. not that I can't move, but the logistics and circumstances surrounding this move just...weren't working and I wonder if it's the Universe's way of protecting our friendship from a cohabitation downfall. I don't know what the reason is, but the very same thing happened last year when I almost moved with her to Greensboro so I can't help but think that there's something about this that just isn't supposed to happen. I am very disappointed, and I have been crying non-stop, but in my heart i feel it's for the best. Not just because of work, but because this move set so many things in motion for me, and opened my eyes to so many things. It's helped me to remove some things and people that didn't belong in my life in the capacity they were in, and allowed me to be OK with how my life is growing.
Stevie reminded me that, part of my problem is that I'm clinging to a lifestyle that isn't mine, out of fear. The fear is understood, but if I would but have the faith to believe in both myself and what has been destined for my life, I could spend less time worrying and just get on MY track, in MY lane and stop trudging along in the wrong lane. <-------------That was the nice version. Any of you who know Stevie know that she can be brutal sometimes. But i love her to her core for just this reason. These were the words I needed to hear, to reinforce what I already know about me and the life I want to have for myself. Gosh I love her, and I'm so glad I have a best friend who speaks my language!
But, i digress.
I won't be moving to Texas on Tuesday. I almost did. But not quite.
I think I'll have to forfeit the flight costs and charge it to the cost of learning. Be careful what you ask for, because SOMEtimes, God will show up, and show OUT, and it'll fuck yo' plans AAALLLLLLL the way up. But I also learned that the plans that you have for yourself will NEVER outshine what God has planned for you. It cost me $147 to learn a lesson that I've been trying to learn for free for years: listen to your intuition. Even if it takes you months to heed what it says. Its never wrong.
Ever.
Thanks for reading my story. <3
BD
A good read. Glad you're still here. Thanks for the shoutout mama. Love you to pieces.
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