A Day in the Life of a Dog Walker

I used to work at Victoria's Secret. Then I was a camp counsellor (ok, well, I've been doing that since I was 16). Next came being a professional internet surfer receptionist. Now I walk and board dogs. Although I'm looking for something else on the side while I develop a larger clientele. I kind of want an Etsy store because I think it would be fun...but I digress.

Part of figuring out how to be an artist in the modern day real world is figuring out how not to actually starve. This is what is known as the day job. Now, I've decided that mine must be at least somewhat satisfying or I will lose my mind. It's all about finding interesting and viable alternatives. So here is a day in my day job life:

7:30 a.m. Early morning bathroom trip for me. The three dogs sprawled across my one room apartment look at me briefly in the hopes that this means it's time for a walk. They are sadly disappointed.

7:35 a.m. Phone rings. Seriously? I am intrigued as to who is calling me at this hour and, more importantly, why. This office doesn't open until 9. Sometimes 11. Someone needs their dog walked. Today. I absorb as many details as possible at this ungodly hour.

7:36 a.m. I am asleep again. Now the three dogs are all in my bed.

9:10 a.m. Shocked that none of the puppies are whining to go out yet. I walked them late last night for this reason. Phone rings again. My aunt, the original dog walker. We're meeting up for a puppy party.

9:35 a.m. On our way. The Black Lab poops on someone's lawn, sidewalk, and driveway for a solid ten minutes. This is gross. It's also part of the job. The first bag has a hole in it. I curse the fates and wipe the liquid dog poo off my hand. Yeah, you're icked out now, aren't you? It isn't even noon.

9:47 a.m. We make it to the off leash park. No puppy party yet. I feed the Lab my apple core. Labs will eat anything. Which probably explains the events of 9:35 a.m.

9:50 a.m. The aunt comes zipping around the corner with a Duck Toller in her front seat (like a Golden Retriever, but more of a redhead). Three Black Labs, a black Golden Doodle, a Weimeraner mutt, the Toller, and a Collie-like dog pile out of the vehicle. That's seven dogs, in case you weren't keeping track. I have three. This makes ten. Basic math is key to walking dogs.

9:54 a.m. We let them off leash.

9:55 a.m. Three dogs are rolling in mud puddles. This includes my white long haired Golden Doodle. Then they drink the water. Blech. Now they smell like swamp.

9:56 a.m. They chase tennis balls and each other around for an hour. There is a fat Black Lab named Lizzie. They pick on her. Playground dynamics work in the dog world too, it seems.

11:01 a.m. Time to start heading home or they'll run until they drop dead. They're far more subdued on the walk home. We creep into my building quietly. I am avoiding the landlady. I do not want to answer questions about why I have these three crazy dogs. I feel it could be detrimental to the tenant-landlord relationship.

11:10 a.m. After having a drink splashing water all over my floor and wrestling on my bed, it's time for a puppy nap. The Golden Doodle takes the bed, the Black Lab takes the couch, and the little one whose breed I can't remember and whom I will therefore refer to as Little Bitch takes the giant dog bed. I relax.

11:12 a.m. I sign into Twitter to see what's going on in the world. It's behaving strangely this morning. The Black Lab vomits all over my couch.

11:30 a.m. I have finished cleaning my couch. Fortunately I am smart and had it covered with a sheet. Google Reader time. The puppies are watching The View. We flipped a coin and I lost so they got to pick the station. Either that or I only have two and I don't do soap operas that aren't Coronation Street.

11:58 a.m. I am restless and feel compelled to troll craigslist for a second job. Then I realize that none of these jobs look fun. I play Snood instead.

12:03 p.m. The Golden Doodle is still covered in dirt and dead leaves. I throw him in my bathtub and climb in after him. We do bathtub battle until his paws are clean. As if my apartment isn't already destroyed.

12:35 p.m. Pilates Pocahontas texts me to see if I want to do lunch. I decide this is an excellent idea but that it requires me to pull my life together.

1:04 p.m. I get to my regular Black Lab's house to let him out for his midday bathroom break. On the counter are puppy booties, saran wrap, duct tape, and a leash. He is perpetually injured. This is another Lab trait. I put the booty on over his already bandaged foot. I haven't seen him in a week but apparently his toenail issues have not resolved themselves.

1:26 p.m. Broken Black Lab is done hopping and hobbling around the neighbourhood. I feed him many treats. He is a treat whore. He will do just about anything for treats. I will do just about anything for chocolate. So we understand each other.

1:39 p.m. I arrive at the home of the new puppy, the 7:30 a.m. phone call puppy. He appears confused. He doesn't know me and his response is to pretend he's a statue. Worst. Guard. Dog. Ever. But it works well for me at this particular moment. And we wander through the park.

2:09 p.m. I return the new puppy to his home and spend just enough time fiddling with the very complicated lock to miss the bus. I decide to just follow the bus route and walk to the subway station instead of waiting 20 minutes for a bus.

2:17 p.m. I am lost in Rosedale. This is inevitable. But I can still see the C.N. Tower, so I figure not all is lost. And I continue to head in what I think is the direction of the subway.

2:29 p.m. I cross the longest, sketchiest pedestrian bridge (or maybe I just don't like heights) and wind up at Sherbourne subway station. Not where I intended, but not so far off track. I head downtown.

2:45 p.m. At Yonge and Adelaide I find out P.P. had her car and could've rescued me from the labrynth of Rosedale. But I'm hungry and that's more important. We go to Fran's Restaurant. We share Mozzarella Sticks. I have Eggs Benedict. She has nachos and salad. We talk about Very Important Things. While wearing yoga pants. Because real clothes are for people with real jobs.

4:00 p.m. We've paid our bill. I was supposed to be walking my friend the Wheaton about half an hour ago. Really, this is not a big deal. But I feel guilty because he is probably thinking where the eff is she right now? P.P. drives me all the way to the Mt. Pleasant and Davisville region. It takes longer than it should because Toronto traffic is dumb.

4:34 p.m. I walk the Wheaton in the Belt Line, which is the trail/park that begins behind Mt. Pleasant Cemetery. He panics at the bridge over Yonge Street. He's afraid of subway trains.

5:02 p.m. I take the bus home. I decide I am allowed to be a bit lazy. Lazy continues chez moi.

7:00 p.m. Oh, how I love Coronation Street.

7:30 p.m. I skip Jeopardy to walk the puppies. They've earned it. Little Bitch pulls on the leash the whole way. It is otherwise uneventful.

8:03 p.m. We return home. Now they wrestle and chase each other from the bed to the floor, across the couch, back to the floor, and onto the bed again. Eventually they will settle. Until then I will ignore them.

9:12 p.m. Puppies are unconscious. Amazing. I am free to enjoy the interwebs.

10:21 p.m. My friend the Ski Instructor texts me to tell me she is bored on a date with her work place "boyfriend." He thinks they're dating, she thinks they're just sleeping together. The thing about dog walking is that the only office drama is about who is being a ball hog at the park. Wait, maybe they are the same thing.

11:37 p.m. Last late night walk to the end of the street and back. They look reluctant to move until I pick up a leash. The Black Lab is snoring. I understand how they feel as this exercise requires me to put pants on. But now they will sleep until I decide to wake up. Or someone calls. You know, whatever.

And that is more or less how it goes. Of course, I don't have three dogs living with me on a regular basis, but you know, you get the idea. I appreciate the flexibility, even on a busy day. Plus, it keeps me sane in that animals are all about keeping it real. With them, it is what it is and there really isn't any B.S. Plus, I get a lot of exercise and I get to be outside. So I thought I'd share that with all of you.

And, of course, I want to know what you do for your day job? And, more importantly, what keeps you from losing your minds while you do it?

Theatre Camp: A Retrospective

Last week I blogged about my adventures as a Theatre Camp counsellor for March Break. I never did quite get to give you all the scoop on our grand finale, though. And now, Tuesday, I've had just about enough sleep to finish the story and to reflect on the experience.



To recap, in case you haven't been following, my Theatre campers were 22 energetic girls and boys, ages 7-13, with varying levels of experience both in theatre and in camp. The plan was that in five days (well, four and a half really) we would collectively learn about performance skills and improv, find out what makes a play, write and rehearse an original script of our own, and put on a performance. No small task for kids of any age. To facilitate this, we had The Director. To supervise the inevitable chaos, we had me. Ready, go!



Well, we spent two days playing games and brainstorming ideas. By the end of day two we had a place, characters, a problem, something to raise the stakes, and a conclusion.



The Curse of the Shadow Creature. Set in a medieval village, with a slight detour through the lost city of Atlantis. Our main characters were Princess Crystal, her sidekick "Warehouse Mouse," a peasant named Bill, and the Queen. There were also dragons, a pair of Greek godesses, and the Grim Reaper brothers, to hit the highlights. Everyone had a part and at least one line or special moment. The main problem was that the vain Queen was turned into a Shadow Creature and subsequently turned all her subjects into zombies. To make matters worse, the Grim Reaper brothers showed up and started dragging everyone off to the Netherworld. Of course, in the end, Princess Crystal and her friends saved the village, everyone was restored, and the evil doers realized the error of their ways. And everyone lived happily ever after. The end.



All we really did was point them in the right direction and set the words down. Every single idea came from the kids. It was really cool to watch them come up with these wild and crazy ideas and to make them all fit.



Then they rehearsed like mad all days three and four while I organized sets and costumes. By the morning of day five, they were ready to rock. More or less. They took their notes with grace and most of them really listened and adjusted. Then The Director did tech (with real lighting cues!) while I ran through the most intense line through of their young lives so far. By the time their parents showed up for the performance at 1:00, they were all off book and the nerves were setting in. I distracted them by dancing around wildly to Beyonce songs backstage. Which is obviously what you're meant to do before any performance.



We opened. And they were damn near perfect. No one missed an entrance. No one dropped a line. There was one little flub, but other than that they were bang on. They were even quiet and hidden in the wings (no small feat, I assure you). I was so impressed and so proud! And so exhausted!!



Now that I've had some time to recover from the whole experience, I have some thoughts on how it went, on what I would do differently in the future (or in the summer, since I've been asked to come back), and on what they really accomplished. Not all of it is terribly relevant to this blog and most of it isn't interesting if you weren't present for the whole process. But what I will say is that I have so much respect for what those kids did in such a short time with such relative ease. 22 of them wrote, workshopped, rehearsed, and performed a play in 4.5 days. There are groups of professional actors who would find this challenging, if not impossible. I am in awe of them! And I'm grateful, because despite the chaos and the stress, they had me thinking creatively again. Like an actress. Like a director. Like an artist. It's a difficult thing to do all on your own all the time. Sometimes you need someone to remind you how it all works, and no one can do that like kids.



I definitely think I have a future as a teaching artist. I like helping people. I like collaboration. I work well with others. It's just how I roll. And watching sort of from the sidelines all week while dying to get more into the game made me positive I can do it. So I'll hopefully be moving up the food chain for the summer time, getting some more experience, and joining the world of after-school drama programs in the fall. Or that's the plan this week, anyway.

Impressive, and not just for kids...

My theatre camp kids rehearsed their show all day today. With almost no complaints! They were super excited about costumes and I was super impressed that the very first time they put it all together, they managed to get through on their own. The Director and I decided not to say anything so they would learn how to cover their mistakes. And they did. And the next stumble-through was less stumble and more through. I think that's pretty darn good since they were only cast yesterday, don't you?

Curtain up tomorrow and I get to play SM in my blacks. So exciting. I am always in awe of stage managers. Now I get to play one, wink wink!

Paint all over the place beats being on stage...

Cast, block, rehearse. Rehearse, rehearse, rehearse. Paint. Repeat.

The Curse of the Shadow Creature is seven pages long. It includes two fight sequences, a journey underwater to Atlantis, and, of course, a happy ending. We have a mermaid, a fairy, a dog, a wolf, two Grim Reapers (they're brothers), Sir James of Bond, three dragons, a mouse, and, of course, princesses, to name a few. And it seems, for the most part, that everyone is happy with their part...except for our principal characters, who were upset that they spent the whole day on stage and didn't get a turn painting the backdrop. If only all of us theatrical types could be so excited about what is done off stage. Never in your life have you seen actors so thrilled to do "tech stuff."

Which is what I spent my day doing (of course, I am a closet techie). I did get to use my well-honed craft skills and creativity in the creation of several backdrops and decorative elements. By which I mean, I painted all day (one of my hands is still blue). And tried to keep the children from killing each other. Or throwing paint. They were actually pretty awesome about the painting part. And the more excited they get, the more focused they are. Which is probably true of all ages--I had rehearsal tonight and I was not excited to be there (read: exhausted), therefore I was not focused. Even I behave poorly from time to time.

Tomorrow we look at creative costuming, amongst other things...

Natasha Richardson

The beautiful and talented Natasha Richardson passed away Wednesday, March 18, 2009 after succumbing to injuries sustained in a skiing accident. A sudden and tragic loss, Ms. Richardson's death will be mourned throughout the film and theatre world. She was theatre royalty, a Redgrave, and while we are saddened by the loss of her life at 45, for those of us who loved watching her, we lament, too, the loss of her future work as an actress and artist. For a lovely article about her life and accomplishments, see the New York Times. She is survived by her two teenaged sons and her husband, Liam Neeson.

How 22 theatre camp kids write a play...

Day two, here we go!

We started our morning with some relaxation and team building exercises. It started well and they managed to untie themselves from a wicked human knot. But the group dynamic is shifting as we see who is really interested in theatre and who is just here because they couldn't get into Circus camp. Which is fine, it just changes the energy. By the time we got to working on vocal production, everyone needed a time-out:

Camper: This is boring.
Me: Performing a play where no one can hear you is boring.
Camper: That's what microphones are for.
Me: Microphones are for wimps.

(I'll qualify that by saying that the theatre has good acoustics and is less than 100 seats).

They like acting. They don't enjoy the games as much. They don't get that the games are directly related to acting. I think perhaps it would be helpful to explain (or to ask them) why these games are important to developing as an actor. Sure, "Keeper of the Keys" and "British Navy" don't seem like theatre games, but they are all about listening and concentration. These are the basics!

But they pulled it together in the afternoon and really did some incredible work. We went over the basic plot outline we came up with yesterday and divided into groups. Each group then had to fill in the details within that outline. We ended up with four distinctly different stories and 22 very interesting characters, including but not limited to plankton, princesses, a mouse, James Bond, a Greek Goddess, dragons, peasants, and an astronaut. We treated this as their "audition" for the show. Some of them are still shrinking violets, but most of them are really putting it all out there. And some of them we really saw for the first time.

What I love about watching kids do improv and theatre games is their lack of inhibition. They come up with the wildest things and find logical ways of making it all fit together. And then they get up there and run with it. As we get older, we retreat much more into our heads. We think about things too much. We lose the ability to just stop thinking and do it. And, of course, then we work at getting it back. At least, the artists do. We have to relearn how to follow our impulses, they have yet to forget.

So we typed up all their ideas and everything we could from their scenes today. Tonight, The Director is writing the script. Tomorrow morning we will have it in hand and will get right on rehearsing...hopefully everyone will be happy and ready to work. I'm there.

And, as a sidebar, I was more or less offered a job there for the summer today. It took two days. Finally, someone gets me.

NYU's Newest Undergrad!

My lovely little protege, a friend of The Photographer's sister, has been on an exhausting audition tour of basically every prestigious theatre school in the US of A. She has been everywhere from Minnesota to Juilliard, learning the ins and outs of auditioning for theatre programs. And I have been supplying advice and encouragement via email throughout the journey (despite my own audition issues, I do give pretty good advice)...oh, and I've answered about six million questions. Which I loved doing because I wish I'd had someone to answer all my questions when I was making the rounds as a fresh faced, idealistic 18 year old.

Well, I'm pleased to announce that as of yesterday she has been accepted to her number one choice, New York University. She'll be joining the ranks of their musical theatre program (CAP21) in the fall..and I am sure she'll be amazing! So proud!!

I survived my first day of theatre camp...

Let me preface this by saying that I have been a sleep away summer camp counsellor/arts and crafts director for seven years. I have also directed kids in grades 1 through 9 in productions (mainly of modified Shakespeare). But I've never done theatre camp...

Today was nothing short of insanity. Chaos. Well, organized chaos. Loosely organized. 22 wonderful, loud, energetic, enthusiastic, wild and crazy campers, ages seven to 14. One teaching artist (The Director). One counsellor (and a highly qualified one, might I add). Needless to say, The Director and I were somewhat outnumbered. From a theatre standpoint, no problem. From a "be quiet and keep your hands to yourself" standpoint, somewhat more complicated. Lots of little boys with active imaginations and energy to spare. Great for the former, challenging for the latter. But they're fun...and it was a very productive day.

We started with fun warm up and improv games...lots of running around, which was helpful given the collective inability to stand still. Everyone got along (although it's still only the first day) and they make an excellent ensemble--a wide variety of personalities. We have some drama queens and some incredible comedians (the lone 7 year old is absolutely hilarious)! It can only get crazier from here...

The plan is to write a play. As a group. Which we will perform for the parents on Friday. This is asking a lot of a group so large and varied and, well, young. But after watching the scenes they came up with entirely on their own today, I am confident that they are more than capable. In groups of five or so they were told to come up with a short scene (2-3 minutes) that must have 1) a place, 2) characters and relationships, 3) a problem, 4) something that makes the problem worse, and 5) a solution. And every single group managed to have all of those things. Twice. Eight totally different scenes.

Kids are so amazing. Because, for the most part, at that age they haven't learned to ignore their impulses. They go with it. They come up with the most incredible ideas and they don't hold back. We lose that little by little as we get older...

So our play...the workshopping officially begins tomorrow. But the play will be set in a medieval village where a shadow creature tries to take over the world. This is what they voted on. The characters remain to be seen, but their ideas ranged from mermaids and Greek gods to juice boxes. Really, this could go anywhere...Stay tuned!

Bliss comes from a modem...

This is my Dino-Dell, the laptop I got when I went away to university and have had ever since. It's old, it's slow, it has a broken key (but no dead pixels) and until I can afford to purchase a replacement, it is my faithful connection to the internet world.

This is my new modem. It's small and rented. I paid some man $50 to come to my apartment to plug it in (that was literally all he did) because Rogers said I had to in order to get online. But I can say, as I sit here with unlimited internet hours at my disposal, it was worth it. No longer will I have to endure the waiting and weirdos of the Toronto Public Library. Priceless.

This is all to say, I am back, my friends. Apologies for my blogging hiatus. It was really a result of the lack of internet connection. Anyway, enough about that. Now that I have the www back, I can do all kinds of important life things like blogging, banking, and pre-ordering the new Tragically Hip album to be released April 7 (I'm soooo very excited). But first, we have some catching up to do...

One of my Twelfth Night castmates commented at our first read through that February really has no redeeming qualities. I disagree. It has one: it's short. Enough said.

March is here now, though, and I am, indeed, rehearsing for an April production of Twelfth Night. I originally expressed some hesitation about this show: the last show I was in with actors still in school and a young director was nightmarish (and is a blog story for another day). Also, Maria is usually played about in her forties. But I figured I should go for it and I'm glad I did. Me as Maria makes more sense within the context of this particular production and cast. And my fellow actors are very cool (and smart...and funny...and, above all, professional) so far. And our director really does seem to know what she is doing. Look, I've been in shows where that hasn't been the case. It's unpleasant, if not damaging. But maybe this experience will redeem the last one. I will keep you posted.

This show is also an excellent exercise in how to produce theatre when you have no money. I'm learning.

Also of interest, I am playing March Break Camp Counsellor for Harbourfront Centre's TheatreKIDS camp this coming week. It should be a lot of fun. It's just me and a teaching artist/director and it's all about collaboration. The kids are going to create a theatre piece to present to their parents at the end of the week. It's quite the challenge but I think they'll come up with something really amazing. And I can't wait. This is something I know I can do well, given that I've been a sleepaway summer camp counsellor for 7 years and I have a BFA in Theatre. Although I was once told that I don't have enough experience to teach drama to kids (which is one of the most infuriating things you can hear when looking for a job). Anyway, I'm sure this will be a step in the right direction. Or at least the source of some fun (and funny) stories.

Finally (sorry this post is a series of unrelated things and a bit all over the place), the lovely Lois posted this on her blog last week about theatre communities and artists trying to break in. I think she makes some really interesting points. The best way in is, indeed, to go see things and to talk to the people doing them. This being said, I think some communities are more resistant to outsiders. When you don't know anyone, this can be frustrating. And I do think it is probably different for actors than it is for stage managers. But you have to start somewhere. And Lois's idea is a good one. So go see a show. And make a friend.

The end.

175 Years of Toronto

Tomorrow, March 6, marks the 175 birthday of the city of Toronto, my hometown. In honor of the occasion, things are happening all over the city celebrating history and culture. I haven't decided what I'm going to do yet, but I will certainly be out and about. If you happen to be in our fair city, check out all the fuss. Here is the schedule of events downtown and around town! Enjoy!