The One from the City.

So, I thought about going on and on about why I haven't blogged for so long but realize that catching everyone up on the past five months could really take a long time, when what I really want to do is talk about the biggest event of all...

... as I type this from my apartment in New York City.

I have officially lived here for fifteen days. I'll be honest - it feels like longer because so much has happened in that short time. I have learned so much about myself, about my friends, about this city, and about what my future holds in those few days. You see, it's impossible to gradually learn the ins and outs of this place. You get thrown right in the second you arrive. It was overwhelming, and it still is.

I'll start from the beginning.

 

My flight left Dallas Love Field on Monday, June 3rd, at 6:30 AM. I changed planes at the Houston Hobby Airport and departed there at 8:30 AM to LaGuardia. I met a nice Columbian man on the plane who was flying to New York for business; he asked me what I was traveling for, and I told him. He smiled big and said in somewhat broken English, "You have that sparkle that makes me know it will happen to you." 

As we got closer to landing, my heart started pounding. As we went through the clouds and I could see the city, I felt myself getting emotional. I had this vast sense of accomplishment and pride sweep through me, that this plan that I'd had in motion for so long was finally coming to fruition: to move to New York City. The plane landed at 1:15 PM, and I hurried off. (I've never liked flying - motion sickness mixed with minor claustrophobia and anxiety doesn't often make for a very pleasant experience.) I promptly went to collect my bags and soon found that someone had mistakenly taken one of mine. I waited for them to return and then went on my way with two rolling suitcases, a backpack and a carry-on duffel bag in tow.

After dropping off my bags, I met up with my friend Dalton. We have been friends since we were 16 years old. I would say he's the friend I've kept around the longest, my oldest friend. He is a dear one, too, that I think will always have a special little place in my heart. He has helped me so much, in so many ways, and he continues to do so here in this big, big world called NYC. I met a few of his friends that night, let my phone die, and was out until well past bedtime. I had purchased my MetroCard earlier that day, and it was time to head back to the apartment. Dalton and his friends gave me very clear instructions on how to get back. But anyone who knows me at all knows I don't listen to directions well. It's almost automatic that I shut down when someone is giving them to me... even if it means my safety might be involved.

Needless to say, I got lost on the way back. I ended up in an area that I'm sure I couldn't find again if I tried. It was a frightening neighborhood, and it was late. The crazies were out. I hurriedly made my way up to two girls sitting on a stoop and asked them where the street was that I was looking for. They pointed me in the right direction and I practically jogged there, my feet achy from my boots and the day's activities. I couldn't call anyone for instructions or reassurance or company. I was a mess. When I crawled into bed, I laid there in silence and asked, "What am I doing here?"

I woke up late the next day and decided I would make my way to a place I was at least a little more familiar with than others - Times Square. It was a sight for sore eyes, really.

As I walked around the popular tourist spot, I became keenly aware of something quite potent: I over-romanticized New York City. When I visited as a tourist myself, I saw the pretty places - the expensive hotels, the tour bus, the taxis, the nice restaurants, the safer streets, the beautiful night lights on Times Square. Some of those things still fascinate me, but there is so much more to this place than those things. I've seen some ugly parts of NYC. It's dirty. It's gritty and scary and big and can swallow you up in one single gulp if you let it.

And yet, I don't want to leave.

Since that first full day here, I have had many adventures. I snagged a job selling merchandise at a few shows. Because of this job, I've been within inches of Andrew Rannells, Clive Davis, Bernadette Peters, Megan Hilty, Tina Fey, Lea Salonga, Marc Jacobs, Swoosie Kurtz, Elton John, Zachary Levi, Matthew Morrison, and Krysta Rodriguez. Because of this job, I've made some decent friends and some decent money that will help in this expensive city.

I've seen an off-Broadway show called Unbroken Circle. I've seen Once, Peter and the Starcatcher, Kinky Boots and Pippin, all on Broadway. (The latter of which is literally the best thing I've ever seen in my entire life... I'm not kidding. If you get to see ONE show in New York, choose Pippin. It will blow your mind.) 

I've had far too much 99-cent pizza. I've had gigantic cupcakes and tasty cookies and delicious paninis. I've walked probably 100 miles since I got here. I've done the lottery at Matilda and Wicked. I fully intend on returning to try again... you know, since I live here and all. I've lost five pounds. I've slept soundly, even with a rumbling train and late-nighters on the streets. The grittiness is still very alive, but I'm learning to deal with it. I've learned how to discretely, yet obviously, show that I'm carrying pepper spray on my keychain. I've learned to never take a cab. I've learned people on the street will always ask you for money. I've learned to take a backpack when I go grocery-shopping. I've learned how much I can fit into my backpack when I go grocery-shopping so that I can make the trek back to my apartment without my arms falling off. I've learned how to check for bed bugs. I'm learning MTA's system. I'm learning how to dress if I'm making a expedition to the other side of the city. (In other words, never wear heels if it means a long walk. Wear tennis shoes or rain boots and bring your heels with you in your purse/bag. In turn, no heels also means less cat calls in sketchy stations or streets.)

And as of yesterday, I've started to learn about auditions. 

I auditioned for the national touring company of Ghost at Ripley-Grier. I was there for eight hours. I went in at 8:00 AM and finally auditioned at 4:00 PM. I didn't get a callback, and that's okay. Because I'm learning that that's also how things work around here for most people. I learned yesterday that while my music library is extremely extensive, my audition cuts are not. I need to focus on putting together more 16- and 32-bar cuts that will blow people's minds when I use them.

I'm learning where to look for auditions. I'm learning how to act at them. I'm learning how to not act at them. I'm learning they are time-consuming and hard work. I'm learning that if I ever tell anyone that I'm a performer and they belittle the work by saying with a patronizing smile, "Well, that's fun," I'll likely punch them in the face and/or invite them along to an audition. I'm learning that warm-up locations are hard to find. (Tip: when a train comes by or an announcement comes over the speaker in the station on the way to your audition, use those mere seconds to do a loud warm-up. I'm not kidding; I found ten opportunities yesterday to make this happen, and I took each one.)

I'm learning that the love that I have for my friends and family grow as I move farther away from them. I'm learning that to miss them is very, very real and a very tangible feeling.

Right now, I'm learning. That's the biggest thing about being here at this moment, I think, if you weren't able to catch that. I am soaking up one of the greatest cities in the world and loving it at times, hating it at others, but never wanting to leave all in the same minute.

I am a passionate young lady in a passionate city. I don't know if I will ever get used to the hustle and bustle, but I know that I could grow to love it and call it my own.

I am proud that I am here. I am proud that I am learning. And I am proud of absolutely wherever this crazy road leads.