Tuesday, September 21, 2010

19 hours in Boston

I've never thought much of Boston.  It always brought to mind baseball and snow, neither of which I'm really a superfan of.  So when I booked my jetBlue flights and saw that I had to fly through Boston to get from Denver to Portland, OR (I know, ridiculous - I'm at the Boston airport now preparing myself for a loooong day of travel including a three hour layover in NY), I didn't really consider staying longer than the overnight that was required.  I didn't think I'd care about seeing much in this city.  It proved me wrong.


My sweet friend S. met me at the T station, took me for dinner at a truly Italian restaurant, Giacomo's (where the waiter literally tapped me on the shoulder and said, "hey, which'a you got the ravioli?"), to her favorite place for the best cannoli I've ever had, then let me stay the night at her apartment.  All of this after I forgot to remind her I was coming & she only just happened to check Facebook after my plane had landed!  Today, before my flight out, I had a couple hours to wander the city, and I really discovered how much I like it.  I still may not be a fan of baseball or snow, but I'm now a big fan of Boston.  I'll be back.


Next stop:  Portland, Oregon!

Today I am so happy and grateful for:
~ kind, giving friends
~ deeeeelicious food
~ historic port cities (love 'em!)

xo! n.

Shenangigans & CO.

Denver did a pretty good job in woo-ing me, although I think it was more the work of my best friend and her husband than the city itself.  We enjoyed Colorado's perfect weather, blue skies and cool temperatures keeping us out in the yard or on a rooftop or roaming the mountain-ringed streets ducking in and out of shops.

Their friends rented a boat and we took it out to the middle of Lake Dillon, up by Breckinridge, which was gorgeous; a still blue lake surrounded by trees just starting to respond to Autumn.  Even the dead trees added to the riot of color in their own burnt purple scream.  It was sunny and windy and perfect.  Most of the people on the boat were doctors or spouses of doctors but, oddly, the only other single person was a guy who's moving to LA to be an actor.  I tried not to discourage him while still not lying to him...  After the boat, we had everyone back at the house for pizza and s'mores.  It was a wonderful day.



The day before I left, Denver scored major points by showing me where I'd live - a beautiful historic apartment just off a main, eclectic road full of shops and bars.  My BFF insisted on looking at rental prices (which wasn't a bad idea - they're much cheaper than LA!) and driving by; the apartment is just around the corner from a yoga studio and a theatre - good job, Denver!  Although looking forward to the next leg of my trip, I was sad to leave.

Mostly, though, I'm just going to miss my best friend.

Today I am so happy and grateful for:
~ s'mores
~ friendships that are stronger than there are words for
~ catching my BFF at the only moment this year she's actually available to hang out
~ this amazing opportunity to travel
~ puppy love

xo!  n.

Friday, September 17, 2010

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Pleased to meet you, Denver

Virginia lured me calmly, with a polite slightly southern drawl and the quiet confidence of a city that's stood through the centuries.  I connected with my family; three hours talking porcelain with my grandma (yes, I could barely keep my eyes open, but oh my being there meant so much to her), burgers and beer with my aunt, days and days with my momma.  Moving there would be so easy - I have a free place to stay, lots of connections for jobs, an easy in to a creative group, and even possibly a new (to me) car.  But is it where I want to be?  Is it easy because it's right or just too easy?

My gut's not giving me any answers; I think it wants to weigh all the options first.  So, with that said:  Colorado, you're up.  Show me what you've got.

Flying into Denver, I was just as excited as flying into Sydney, Australia.  How funny is that?  A new place is a new place, no matter how exotic - it always gives me a fluttery thrill.  I was like a little kid, craning my neck to see past the wing to the mountains and flat, reaching farmland.  As we touched down, it was all giant sky and golden fields, stretching like the yellow brick road to Emerald City, Denver's skyscrapers huddled together on the horizon like a distant, steely oasis.


 My BFF picked me up from the airport & took me to her home.  It is surreal; she got married and moved to Denver a little over a year ago, and seeing someone I've known since I was 13 in this new adult life feels peculiar.  It's beautiful - she's so in love and her home is comfy and fitting - but it feels like a strange dream, unfamiliar and surprising but natural and so completely right.

She and her husband J gave me a quick driving tour of Park Hill, where they live, through downtown, and to The Highlands for a happy hour dinner of appetizers and wine on the rooftop of Vita, watching the sun set over the city skyline.  She has about eight million things in mind for me to do while I'm here (hilarious and adorable!), and it seems like Denver's got a pretty great social scene, from the microbreweries on every corner (and a biking tour of them!) to the "Canvas and Cocktails" painting class she's been waiting to take with me.  She keeps saying "when you move here..."

She also keeps asking me, "has Denver woo'd you yet?"  I tell her, this is our first date; I'm not that easy.

Com'on Denver, woo the crap out of me.

Today I am so happy and grateful for:
~ Jet Blue's free in-flight TV and snacks, and free checked bag
~ laughing with my BFF
~ homemade zucchini walnut pineapple muffins

xo! n.

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

The Unexpected Strikes Again

I wonder, sometimes, if serendipitous things should be taken as signs or if they're just good things that happen, either because I put good thoughts out there or just out of luck.

The other day, my mom went to get her hair cut and I tagged along because we were going to go straight from there to the downtown DC adventure I already told you about.  She went into the salon and I walked across the street for a coffee, then wandered around the area, looking at houses and kids playing across the street, nothing in particular on my mind.  As I rounded the corner, I noticed a sign:
My mom had been telling me about this community theatre, and the extraordinary quality of shows they produce, for a couple years now.  In fact, we'd been planning to see their matinee the next day.  So I paused at the locked front door and looked at their seasons brochure.  As I was turning to leave, a woman walked up to the doors; we exchanged hellos as she unlocked the theatre, and then she said, "you should come see 'Nude With Violin' tonight, it's opening night."
        "I'm coming to the matinee tomorrow, actually.  I've never seen a show here before; I'm visiting my mom from LA and she's always telling me about your shows.  I'm an actor."
        "Oh, really?  Well, would you like to come in and take a look around?"

Ok, so maybe I used the actor card, but it was in the spirit of friendliness, of solidarity, and it certainly opened some doors... literally.  She took me into the closed, empty theatre, and over a conversation about everything from, I worked at the Dock Street Theatre (she's from Charleston!) to the quality of theatre in LA (generally poor) to how hard it is to live far from family, she gave me a private tour of the entire building.  I stood in the wings, walked the detailed set, inhaled the sawdust in the shop, perused gobos and fresnels, admired the green room and paced the rehearsal space.


It is a beautiful, clean, obviously well-funded theatre.  I was REALLY impressed.

I thanked her for her time, and as I turned to leave, she said, "If you end up coming back to Alexandria, please consider working with us."  I said I would and I meant it.

When I met back up with my mom and told her what had just happened and who I'd met, she said, "Nikki... she's a producer; she produces a good number of their shows.  You probably met the best person you could possibly meet at that theatre."

Well, well, well.  Universe, you got me again.

The next day, we saw their current show and it was remarkably well done.  The set and costumes were gorgeous, lighting and sound on par, the acting was solid with a couple stand-outs, and the direction was flawless, handling the challenges of many characters onstage at a time and a static set with creativity and intelligence.  There wasn't one element that stood out as being "community theatre" bad; in fact, if you'd told me it was a professional show, I'd have easily believed you.  Oh and the audience, for a Sunday matinee, was packed - probably 10 empty seats in the 150 seat house - and Mom said it's been at least that full every time she's been.
  A still from "Nude With Violin" [source]

It was as good as, if not better than, most of the professional theatre I've seen.  And trust me, I've seen A LOT.

Which begs the question: even though I've been told since college that I'm a professional actor and community theatre equals "Wating for Guffman"-esque frustrations, is it better to work with a sub-par company just because it's professional, or in a community theatre where the shows always have a good budget, the audience is always full, and the artists are dedicated and talented, despite the lack of pay?

Because I think that if I found a job I enjoyed, I could be really happy doing theatre like that, on the side.  And that's how I started out... interesting how things go full circle...


 Waiting for Guffman (one of my favorite movies of all time... so painfully funny)

Today I am so happy and grateful for:
~ an open mind
~ good theatre, treated with respect
~ happy accidents

xo! n.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Dating Places

I think Virginia is wooing me.

I've visited family in the DC/Northern Virginia area thousands of times; I know the weather, the people, the history, the sights.  I've never thought of DC as a vacation destination or somewhere particularly remarkable, I mean, I know the President lives there, but so does my Grandma.  We casually reference The Mall as though it were, well, a mall.  This is just a place that my family lives, it's not home, it's not exciting, it holds no draw for me.

But on this trip, I've been seeing things differently.  Maybe it's because I was planning on moving here 2 months ago (in fact, the day I got here would've been the day I moved into my mom's house - weird), before the movie changed my plans.  Maybe it's because my Mom would still like me to move here & is subtly showing me the reasons it would work.  Maybe it's just because I have no plans and am open, without prejudice, to what's in front of me.  Whatever it is, I'm enjoying it.

In fact, all the states can fight over me, like boys at a dance.  I don't mind.


Since I got here, the weather has been perfect.  Gorgeous.  Hot, yes, but not the typical southern wet-wool-blanket humid.  The sky is a clear blue and the lush green trees, a few just starting to turn, shine golden in the setting sun, like in a painting, unreal.  I didn't realize how much I missed the sound of crickets and cicadas until I got to the east coast; it is the underlying symphony in the heat of the day and the gradual cooling of night.  I've seen two hawks, dark against the sky.

My mom lives in Alexandria, steps away (literally) from Old Town.  I have always appreciated Old Town; I love the south's historic port cities, especially when they are well-maintained and have managed to hold onto some individuality and character, as Alexandria has.  Classically painted windowpanes flake in a charming, not dilapidated, way and walkway bricks jumble beneath you forming a once-organized and sometimes treacherous path.  Historic homes lean against each other like drunken comrades, displaying their star-shaped badges of earthquake bolts proudly and flanked by grandfather trees.  This city is old, but very much alive.
  Residential Old Town Alexandria in winter

I always feel like I don't quite fit in here, as, to be honest, I feel most places.  Alexandria, and the parts of DC I am familiar with, has always felt so buttoned-down, serious, Southern in the most drawling, genteel accent sort of way.  Women in pearls and glasses, hair perfectly straightened in flattering yet unimaginative styles.  Men in suits, alternately boisterous and polite, interchangeable in their predictability.  Maybe that's unfair; it's a stereotype for sure, but it is, quite often, true.

So on Saturday, Mom & I decided to explore some new parts of the area, to get a better feel for what must, surely, be a diverse and vibrant city.  We took the metro (a metro!  It always makes me feel like a backpacker in a foreign city and I get a tingle of delight and fear in my stomach) into DC and walked between Dupont Circle, U Street, and Adams Morgan - three neighborhoods that are supposedly younger and more eclectic than the political, touristy side of DC I've always seen.

We visited U Street Corridor first.  It was a thriving center of African-American culture until the 1960s when the assassination of MLK, Jr sent it plummeting into riots and violence.  In the '90s it started to clean up its act, and now its a really lovely area with beautiful Victorian-style houses and bustling shop-lined streets.  Walking just one block off the main street, we passed people of every age and race, families, retirees, even some hipsters!  The houses were solid, some classic brick, some brightly colored, with unusual rooflines and windows and almost impractically-small porches.  Set up in a row, side by side in this urban yet comfortable setting, it reminded me of a TV city; I almost expected Dr. Cliff Huxtable to walk out the door with Theo or Rudy at his side.  I could imagine myself living in an apartment at the top of one of these gabled buildings, walking down my front steps, past the lush front-yard gardens that spill over onto the sidewalk, to one of the locally-owned restaurants for a coffee, or to a junk shop to hunt for treasures.
   U Street houses/shops [source]

Walking, we could barely perceive a difference as U Street turned into Dupont Circle, but gradually, the houses got grander, the architecture more classic, and the streets wider.  Then the circle itself was in front of us, verdant, buzzing; there were people everywhere, laying in the grass, strolling the sidewalks, sitting on benches and around the fountain.  Mom and I sat next to the very talented buskers playing guitar and drums for the crowd and let the sun shine on us and the fountain spray catch us when the wind was just right.  I know it was probably so busy because it was labor day weekend, but sitting there watching people from all walks of life pass - there's a woman taking pictures of her baby, there's a couple holding hands, a man carrying groceries, a woman biking, a group of friends laughing, a toddler dancing his uncertain wobble - I felt like I was in a movie and all these people were extras.  It was just too perfect.


We walked through Embassy Row with its stately houses and flags like tropical birds (it made me sad to notice the Iraqi Embassy was the only one with bars on all the windows) to the Phillips Collection, where we saw famous Renoir, Matisse, and Rothko paintings, and the works of Richard Pousette-Dart, which neither of us had ever seen before but we both really loved.  Then we had an early dinner at an outdoor cafe, enjoying the pulse of the city in the waning evening light.


The last area we explored was Adams Morgan, the most recently gentrified area of the three.  It had a much younger feel; it reminded me a little of Kings Cross in Sydney (but without the hookers); it is definitely the spot for nightclubs and cheap bars, and I thought if I were a backpacker in DC, this is probably where I'd end up staying.

  Adams Morgan [source]

So maybe I was a bit premature, judging the entire area by the small parts of it I'd experienced. Point one to you, city.

I have more to tell you, but it's just too pretty outside.  The early yellowed leaves are drifting past my window like dandelion seeds, and it's probably 90 degrees in the sunshine.  Excuse me while I head to the pool.

Today I am so happy and grateful for:
~ a pool in the backyard!
~ exploring
~ an open mind
~ momma's company

xo! n.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

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