Nothing in N.Y. comes easy. That’s why when you achieve something you feel like you own the world. At this point in my career though, it doesn’t always take me long to realize I don’t. I’m sitting in Starbucks waiting for my very first rehearsal with Cherub Improv, a group that performs improv comedy at hospital, correctional facilities, nursing homes, etc… It should be an exciting moment. Instead, I’m haunted by my lack of income.

I shouldn’t be worrying about this. I should be in performing RENT. I got cast to do a regional production. But, sadly, I got uncast suspiciously close to my rejection of the producer’s offer to let him be “a bad influence” during the production. “I’m looking forward to being friends, but I meant that in the plutonic sense”, I said shortly after he tried to kiss me. “That’s too bad because I’m not looking for plutonic friends,” he replied. The next day I received a call stating that I was too young to play opposite their Roger.

It happens I guess. It sucked. I missed out on what would have been a lot of money I could’ve made doing bus tours during the holidays. I also canceled lots of day jobs. Then I struggled to find replacements. Standing in the cold handing out flyers seemed most profitable and reliable after going through a slew of other options. But now, even that’s dried up. I’m tired of looking for survival work and feel I’m missing my chance to find actual paying acting work.

I sit in Starbucks lost and feeling too exhausted with the problem to find a solution. Where will I find the energy? I must because I cannot let go of my dreams.

Matt works hard for the money but the ideas don’t always pay off. Today he hatches yet another scheme.

So, the idea solution to this problem is to just book a show that pays more than most of the shows I book. But I have no way of knowing if that will happen. And aside from my regular bills I need to send out postcards to tell everyone about the parts I’ve booked, I need money to print off my new headshots, I need money for my classes and to be able to meet casting people (oh yes, that’s a whole other can of worms — we’ll discuss later). It’s expensive to be an actor.

Lately I’ve been paying the bills flyering in Times Sq. Sometimes I teach computer lessons or build websites. I had a temp agency. I’ve waited tables. I’ve written magazine articles. I’ve setup video games for corporate parties. I do bus tours… yes I do. So yesterday my roommate asked me to take a look at his computer. It was speaking and crashing. Crazy right? Well, it just so happens I’m very good at fixing things like that. So while I was sitting there, going through the system registry. I thought, I’m going to make a Craigslist ad. Maybe I can get people to pay me to fix their laptops. Anything to keep money in my pocket and a flexible schedule.

Sure, in reality it’s just a Madison Avenue marketing ploy thought up to create buzz and customers for banking giant HSBC. It’s easy to dismiss it as a gimmicky and void of humanity. I’m walking down Seventh Avenue trying to decide whether or not I’ll be able to handle the lowering temperature or if I really belong back in California. Then I see it – a taxi cab – a a restored vintage Checker taxi cab. Upon closer examination though I discover it’s got the HSBC logo plastered all over it. Ever the license plate says HSBC – another guerrilla advertising stunt. I turn away and continue down the avenue. Just ahead there is some guy wearing jeans and a florescent t shirt handling out to-go menus. At least the HSBC cab had some character to it. I turn around and see people gathering around the car to talk to the bank cabbie. Something about the humanity of it made me turn around again and start walking to towards the cab. I had to speak to the driver as well.

New York tends to be a very impersonal place. You become used to ignoring people who look as if they’re about to collapse in front of you as they beg you for money for “a cup of coffee or something to eat.” People routinely feign interest in you in order to conduct business. “Sorry, I can’t give you money. Sorry, I don’t have time to chat. New York is expensive and fast paced and I have to keep up.” So I guess the idea of a cab driver chatting with people on the street really appealed to me. It may be a marketing ploy but it’s brilliant.

But the point of this post is not the cab itself. It’s the what the cab made me realize. The mere sight of human interaction on the street made me giddy. I’m craving human contact. No, I’m craving meaningful human contact – friends. As a seasoned mover, I’ve learned that you cannot survive in a city, any city, without strong friendships. I cried the day I moved from Las Vegas to Los Angeles because most of my time in Vegas had been very lonely. As I drove that U-Haul across the desert I realized I was abandoning friendships that had taken me two years to cultivate. Just recently I cried thinking about my friends in Los Angeles. For whatever reason when I left none of us really thought I would actually go. I was so ingrained into Los Angeles and close to my friends there. A friend of mine recently conveyed that he was still waiting for me to come back.

Should I go back? I don’t know. But one thing is clear – if I’m going to find out, I need to make some friends. The newness of the always new New York is waning and I’ve found myself wanting to stay on the phone for hours with particularly friendly T-Mobile customer service representatives when they ask what it’s like living in New York.

So this week, I’m starting again. What would I do if I just moved here? What brought me here? What made me leave the friends that I made in California – some of the best friends I’ve ever had? In a sea of yellow cabs can I feel like the bright, shiny HSBC cab? I owe it to myself to find out. For the past two months I worked my ass off to become a real estate agent and now I’ve got a job that gives me a certain amount of flexibility to pursue my dreams. So for now – perhaps for the first time in my life – I’ll look at the strengths of this day job and formulate a plan of attack given my current situation. I’ll audition, I’ll create and most importantly, I’ll go out out and work at cultivating my new and current friendships. I’m going to make New York a success. If I do decide to move back to Los Angeles I want to be absolutely certain that I gave New York a fair shot.