The Step with the Village

In the month or so that I've been here, I haven't felt really here. As in NEW YORK CITY: that city of your dreams and what not. I chalked it up to working a lot and living in a primarily family-dominated area. And maybe, just maybe, that my reality could never hold up to my dreams. I love it here, but perhaps the New York I dreamt was only just that: a dream.

That is, until I went to Greenwich Village.

I finally made it down to 14th St. to visit my roommate at his opening night (or, more so, mid-day) after party. He had just opened a play called Lost and Found for the New York Fringe Festival. The party was casual and fun: free wine, free food, and an actor in the play who also was in a few episodes of LOST (Guess who! Guess who!!). I'm glad it went well for my roommate.

But getting there... getting there was half the fun, if not all. I've been all the way to the tip of Manhattan and I've been about as far as 23rd St. The stuff I want/need to do is mostly midtown, a place I rarely want to go. Times Square is more an amusement park than an actual city.

So here's my surprise when I enter the Village. Interwoven streets; calm, rustic buildings; and even cobbled streets. Cobbled streets! It was as if the Old World came to New York and had a hipster baby named "Greenwich". It had edge, yet it felt comfortable. It was home.

I know I can't afford to live there. Hell, I'm amazed that anyone can. But that doesn't mean I can't play every chance I get. Perhaps I'll start tomorrow.

The Quarter-of-a-Century Step

I'm a quarter of a century old. And I'm kinda glad my birthday is over.

Not that I don't like turning older. 25 is much better than 15, or even 21, where I was this oddly shaped triangle trying to fit into the square peg that was college. And I'm very grateful for my birthday; spent it with wonderful people, had a wonderful brunch, a wonderful (though rushed) dinner at Dave & Buster's, had a great time at Assscat 3000 Improv, where Jack McBrayer (from 30 Rock... yup, 30 Rock) not only made fun of my dancing (you're turning the wrong way, Jacky Boy) but also (apparently) was impressed by my dancing (I had danced onstage for the audience. Because I was drunk!), and especially for ending the night with Cindy and Miia, two amazing people who (hopefully) will be in my life for many birthdays to come, at a rooftop bar overlooking the best view of New York ever. I loved Chelsea, I loved the presents I got, I love the family I talked to (I saved the message from my nephew), and I loved my birthday. But I'm glad it's over.

On your birthday every one expects you to have the BEST BIRTHDAY EVER!!! It adds a lot of unwanted pressure and stress; like if everything doesn't go your way then your birthday is a FAILURE! Well, I believe the first, and most important, rule of being an adult is everything doesn't go your way, especially on your birthday. So I'm glad the unneeded stress of having the PERFECT BIRTHDAY EVER! is over.

I feel that life as an adult is mainly about satiating other people, even on your birthday, a day I kinda don't understand to begin with; my parents did all the work, so treat me to cake and presents. Yay! I could have slept in, but I went to brunch with a roommate; not totally selfless, as the brunch was delicious, but I woke up early nonetheless. Could have gone to see a musical, but people didn't have money, so we went to free improv, to which people invited other people. I need to let it go; so it's gone. 'Cause even on your birthday your going to get jabbed in the nuts by your roommate who thinks he's being funny but is just being... well, that guy you kinda knew from college that you said "sure, I'll have him as a roommate for a year. It's either that or some creepy guy from craigslist that I don't know who apparently wants to invite his friends over to shoot coke into their rectum or to play nightlong D&D. Or both!" That guy. You're constantly compromising, like having to eat your birthday dinner in line 'cause the cooks at the place you went to eat f*cked up your order so they had to make it again so you had to get it to go so you weren't late in line for an improv show. But that's good to know, because I feel those who think their birthday is all about them think their life is all about them. And, er go, they lead a very difficult, annoying-to-everyone-else-because-they-bitch-so-much life.

So I let it slide. Because in the end I got amazing presents/books from so many friends which I can't wait to start reading. I was made fun of (and admired by) Jack Mc-f*cking-Brayer from 30 Rock in person, I had an amazing brunch, I had a beautiful view of the city with amazing friends, I saw my parents, I talked to my sister, I talked to and got the best message from my nephew ever, and I have the knowledge that not only did I spend my birthday here in New York, but that I'm here to stay.

As birthdays go, this was a pretty good one.

Much Too Young to Feel This Damn Old

I am a quarter of a century old.

Sometimes you turn a year and don't feel that age. You're nine and you turn 10 yet you still feel like a nine year old even though you've entered the illustrious double digits (11 more months and Bubs is there...). Well, this time is different. I already feel 25; I'm already more confident, wiser, and more relaxed. Twenty-five is a good year to start chasing your dreams.

Did I mention I want to take a hip-hop class? After my class yesterday, I saw a hip-hop class and it was mesmerizing. I love the way hip-hop is moving right: it's this interesting juxtaposition between smooth lyric movements and sharp staccato steps, and when it's really good it still tells a story. This class was really good. Don't know if I'm experienced enough for that class, but I'm certain ready for something.

This birthday has already been the best ever: got a call from my 'girls' exactly at midnight; they sang me "Happy Birthday" and then giggled when I told them I was at work. No work tomorrow, though. Gonna wake up, open a beer, and not stop until the day's over. 'Cause that's the best way to celebrate your birth: trying to kill yourself with alcohol. Wink!

The Step Where I Die (But I Resurrect, So It's Okay)

Good news! I got all the stuff I ordered from Target today! That includes a desk, chair, bookshelf, pillows, and other fun stuff. I started building the desk in the wee hours of the morning and completed both the desk and chair today (I've been keeping a terrible sleeping schedule). So... that means I'm not typing on my desktop computer on the floor, craning over the keys and killing myself in the process. I'm now in a nice comfy chair seated in front of a sturdy desk, which means I can write more updates much more frequently! Will I update more? Probably not.

Took an amazing contemporary jazz class today at Broadway Dance Center in midtown. I initially wanted to take this choreographer's 6-7:30 class, especially because I had boxes that were begging to be unpacked. Yet, I was late. So I waded around midtown for an hour and took the 7:30-9, which actually was better suited for my experience bracket.

Lo and behold when I get to BDC again, but who do I see? Erin Lynne-Hall from college. She's managing BDC now (which is pretty awesome; no big deal). I was surprised to see her though I knew she worked there, but I don't believe she even had the foggiest that I moved here. I've been here a month, and I've met up with very few friends (I need to get on that... yes, I'm looking at you person who lives in or around Manhattan that I haven't seen yet. I apologize, but the phone does work both ways. Think about it).

Class was exhausting and difficult, which is exactly why I need to keep taking it. I need to have difficult; in terms of dance I've had easy for too long now. I've become soft. So I'm ready to step up my game.

Today was someone's birthday in class, so the teacher gave her what she wanted: something fast. This techno-infused roller-coaster ride of a routine had us going a mile-a-minute while getting down on the floor then up on the floor then down then up then side then out. It was intense. But, again, it was good because it was difficult. I felt clean because I was drenched in sweat. I'm a dancer again.

I also want to take an improv class and maybe do some stand-up. 'Cause it terrifies me.

Birthday looming around. 25. Want to see improv at the Upright Citizens Brigade.

Good news: tickets are freezies!

Bad news: they give them right before the show starts.

So I'm guessing that if I get there an hour before the show starts I'll get some tickets. I hope. I really would like to see something on my birthday, but I have a history of things like this not working out. So we'll see.