The Dog Days of Abby
The summer came in carrying spring in its mouth / Held it up for everyone to see.
Hello Ladies, Gents, and Everyone Outside and In-Between,
It’s been a second hasn’t it?
After Nicole Elizabeth Graney the First’s wonderful shout out in her neuesletter, It’ll Be Nice to Meet you Tomorrow, I realized I should probably update the Substack for the first time in a month.
! Time for a Summer Vacation Check-In !
Life has been insane, to say the least, to not one person’s surprise if you know me. The Writers’ Strike has hit the 100 day milestone, now set to surpass the 07-08 strike and currently 53 days from becoming the longest walkout in Hollywood History. The Actor’s Strike is on day 33. I have been furloughed from my “real job” for 68 days. I am taking the Party Down route and taking as many weird gigs as I can take to keep myself afloat. So far, I’ve been a greeter at a #GirlBoss MudRun, filmed a Tiktok about making a pizza, and played with dogs.
Between the days spent in Long Island or Upstate hotels; or leaving my birthday disco early so that I can drive out to Southern New Jersey to hand out little #GirlPower drawstring backpacks to comfortably middle class, “glass ceiling-shatterers” in 90 degree heat; or overnights spent editing a video; or having to swat a man on molly away from a RED camera at an EDM festival; my friends have been there to pull me out of the overwhelming anxiety of whether or not I’ll make rent. I continue to meet new and exciting people in strange places.
I did things that I would’ve never been able to do if I was working regularly (or my old job’s version of ‘working regularly’).
I lounged on the beach–twice–during the “work week.” I saw The Mountain Goats at Pier 17 with a gentleman friend (I have a gentleman friend!). I saw the transit museum. I hosted Open Book! I found a place that does a $1 oyster happy hour (not disclosing where), so you’ll know where to find me (lol) when not working.
This is not trying to trivialize what all the working class entertainment staff (like myself) are going through. This time has been a struggle (I didn’t think I was going to make rent for August, Lord knows what I’m going to do when student loan repayments start back up). This is me trying to be optimistic about the fact that I’ve made it this far and romanticize this “Summer Vacation.” It’s taken a fucking lot to be optimistic about this summer. I’m going to fucking enjoy it.
“You can only control what you can control.” is something I told one of my (also) unemployed friends. Is something that my therapist reminds me. Is something that I say to myself every morning.
Enjoy the piece <3
You Can Only Control What You Can Control.
The comfortable haze of August settling in like your head in the crook of my neck. New Jersey’s junk trees along the highway have dots of red and yellow despite the ninety degree heat. The decadence surrounds me, the decadence of hanging fruit about to drop, the decadence of soaking in the sun and wind and greenery and heavy clouds, the decadence of coming home to you. The way the sun’s been hanging, How the obsolete film projector of clouds stutters, slows, you can tell this phase of life is coming to an end. The one dollar oysters, the beach days, the carefree late nights with no work the next morning, the carefree late nights where I have to drive to Pennsylvania or Maryland for work the next morning. Will things go back to normal? Go back to June’s normal? Go back to ‘employed’ normal? I can’t say. But despite it all, the unknowns, the money problems, the self loathing, I’m glad to have taken the time to know you, summer. And I’m glad you embraced me too.
“The summer came in carrying spring in its mouth/Held it up for everyone to see/This is the time when all of our plans and schemes/Melt down into listless anarchy”
Enjoy this week’s track.
This week’s assignment is to go do something that’s been on your summer bucket list!
Love to all of you reading out there.
Best,
A
To all the stories this summer will bring us!