I'm in the process of writing my story of when I was living in NYC studying acting. There's a lot to my story and for many years it's been so private and special it was hard to even talk about. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times :) If you're just tuning in, I suggest you start at Part I for it to make sense. All links in order at the bottom of this blog entry. I promise it's a juicy read. These entries often include actual journal entries from that time in my life. I'm so grateful I documented so much! Once I finish here, I hope to expand into a book. I'm posting these frequently but they'll also be interspersed with real time blogs :) Thanks for reading & supporting!
*All names are changed
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Adrianna was staying in a hotel in midtown. She had plans with her friends during her visit, but she made a lot of time to hang out with me. I remember one of the first things we did was go to lunch. I wanted to eat at TGIF and she couldn't believe I wanted to go to a restaurant I could go to any time, rather than somewhere particular to NYC. She reluctantly agreed and while she made it known she wasn't happy with my choice, I felt a little comfort in something familiar.
I remember bits and pieces of her vacation. I remember trying to keep my sadness from her but eventually I let it all out.
I remember going to see "The Rocky Horror Show" with her and getting the time wrong and making us a half hour late. I remember going to an audition or two. I remember being glad she was staying in midtown and I didn't have to spend all my time in The Bronx.
One night we went to The Donkey Show. This was an off broadway musical based loosely on Midsummer Nights Dream. It was set inside a club and took place around and in the audience, stages, stairs and booths. The music was all disco. Songs the characters sang included "Ring my Bell" and "Don't Leave me this way". Puck was on roller skates and painted gold from head to toe.
I spent my saturday nights ninth through twelfth grade going disco skating. I was obsessed and convinced I was born in the wrong decade. Discovering the Donkey Show was life changing. And in face, I'd later have a very personal experience with the show.
We stayed long after the show was over. We drank, danced on the speakers and had a fabulous time. Eventually we went back to her hotel and I think this was the night she tells me we got cigarettes and tried to smoke them in the hotel room at the window. I have no memory of this!
Her trip was such a strange time for me. I went from muffling my sadness to pouring my heart out. I never liked to (and still don't) admit if something is wrong or show any kind of weakness. But I needed someone to talk to, more than I knew. I needed someone older and wiser and objective to what I was going through and what life was like at barely twenty years old.
One of her last nights there we went to a bar at the top of a hotel that slowly spun in a circle. I thought it was the absolute coolest. That is until I came back from the bathroom and my seat had moved and I had a moment of panic before I found it again.
This was the night that Adrianna, who always seemed so cool calm and collected, poured her heart out to me. I saw her become completely emotional and tell me things that blew my little mind at the time. I also felt comfort seeing that she had bad times, struggles and issues too. It meant a lot to me at my low point to see cracks in her typically together demeanor.
More of the same entry from the previous blog (which I wrote on summer vacation at home in SLC).
June 3
"...at first I didn't want her to [Adrianna coming to visit]. I felt horrible, I didn't want to have to put on a happy face and I've never felt close to her. The trip was weird, I still knew I was not myself and began to worry about myself. But I saw Rocky Horror and Donkey Show and stayed in a hotel on 34th and 8th and ended up having some great talks with Adrianna. Especially on the last night. She opened up to me and I saw her at her most vulnerable. I saw the Adrianna that is so deeply hurt, but never admitting it. I saw she does have pain, saw her as a completely different person. I think we did a lot of good for each other.
...I cannot ever be thankful enough for our talks about sex. I so desperately needed to talk to a family member about it...now I have a fresh new perspective and feel so at peace.
I turned twenty this year. I'm still having a hard time with that one, but it's getting easier. I thought I was so old. No longer a teen, but at this very moment I feel much more at peace with everything and I feel that it could be the start of something new. A brand new, completely different chapter of my life.
Before I came to SLC I realized I'd become my own worst enemy. Always pushing myself, yelling at myself, beating myself up. Losing confidence, self esteem and knowing I was the only one taking it away. Here and now I'm rediscovering myself, getting to know myself, maybe learning who I am and what I want to be at last. So much darkness has passed in and through me and my entire family this year. One thing after another since my move.
Now I feel happy again but I still find myself holding my breath. I don't want it to disappear. The Guy, Rob back in my life and finding closure here with certain issues. I hope it's real. It's so needed, so deserved. For the first time in a year I'm finding myself living in the moment, too. And learning to like myself again. Feeling much more connected to myself again. All I can do and hope for is to build from here.
One lesson I learned this year was to be proud and happy, sometimes satisfied in my work. What a feeling, to be proud, confident in my acting. Trying to remember to "wipe my feet at the door". I'm trying to apply it to my every day life as well. I thought nothing of my major move and what I would go through, what it all entailed, but now I am so proud of myself. So glad the hardest part is behind me. I'm to be commended. I've asked a lot of myself and always come through despite being ruled by a slave driver - me. It's time to respect and take time with myself and make friends with myself.
I've also learned that other people are not ever going to be perfect, and to take them for what they are, learn from them and know I don't have to try to change them or abandon them as friends because they aren't perfect. If I don't then nobody, including myself, will ever live up to my expectations because perfection doesn't exist.
I'm starting at CAP 21 [NYU's Musical Theater program] on June 25 for six weeks. I see a glimmer of light at the end of my tunnel. I'm full of hope again. My hope will get me there. My determination will get me through. I'm not going to lose my sense of self again in the shuffles. And I have to learn not to be scared, not to have fear, but to just be me. Just be Deena. "
* * * * * * * * * *
This section feels like a strange and emotional time of transitioning and trying to feel, to catch up with myself. I think I did, as best as I knew how. But believe me when I say that up until this point...it's only the beginning. Stay tuned.
Part 1: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/new-york-state-of-mind.html
Part 2: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/new-york-state-of-mind-part-ii.html
Part 3: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-3.html
Part 4: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-4.html
Part 5: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-5.html
Part 6: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-6.html
Part 7: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/im-in-process-of-writing-my-story-of.html
Part 8: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-8.html
Time to Press Pause: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/time-to-press-pause.html
Part 9: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-9.html
Part 10: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-10.html
Part 11: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-new-york-diaries-part-11.html
Showing posts with label deena marie beanerlarue new york city nyc. Show all posts
Showing posts with label deena marie beanerlarue new york city nyc. Show all posts
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Time to press pause
If you've been following my blog, then you've seen I'm in the process of writing "My New York Diaries". I'm up to part 8 which begins the second semester of my acting school experience. It's been wonderful to get this out. To remember, to recall, to have this chance to write and share such personal and entertaining stories.
What I didn't expect (but should have) was how emotional it was going to be. Yesterday I asked my sweetheart to help me scan some pictures to post in this blog. When I went to open up my photo album and choose the ones to be scanned, I couldn't. I could hardly look at them. I started to cry and I couldn't get a deep breath. My chest felt heavy and tight and I was completely overwhelmed.
I've looked at these old photo albums plenty of time through the years without reacting like that. My sweetheart is the best man in the world, and told me he just wanted to hold me and we could do this later.
I felt so stupid. I mean clearly I needed to get some emotions out, but it surprised me and I didn't want my sweetheart to think that I was missing my old life or unhappy in the present.
What I learn more every day is how wise and supportive he is. It's unreal.
We abandoned the picture task and went downstairs to watch episodes of The Office and just relax.
Later on, laying in bed I asked him what was wrong with me? We had a big conversation where he told me nothing is wrong with me, he has told me before how sensitive I am and how deeply I feel emotions. How he knows that's why I'm a good actress. I'm very in tune with my emotions and the emotions of those around me. He calls me an empath. He said my emotions are often just under the surface.
He also told me that I'm in a place in my life where for the first time in years I'm able to breathe. He said while he had experiences and lived out of the state and met new people and went new places, what I did was still different. I had gone from being surrounded by family in my cozy house my whole life to waiting for strangers to recognize me at the airport in NYC one day. How much went on the second I got there. Having to do a million things I'd never done before all alone in a new place. All at the same time. How it's particularly special because I was 19.
I agreed. Had I moved to NYC right now with so much more life experience it would be night and day. He said, "you're never 19 again". He was right. Of course! At 19 everything is a first. Everything is new.
He also went on to tell me how things have been a whirlwind for me from then, leading all the way up to us being married and me living in our cozy house we're in now with each other and our puppy.
Now I can relax. I can breathe. I have the time to soul search, process a big part of my life and chain of events that brought me to right here, right now. He said he's sure when people write their autobiographies there are plenty of tears and emotions involved.
He thinks it's all positive, and he's always interested and anxious to read the next installment. He hopes I do turn this into a book and was a big part of encouraging me to write about it in the first place.
Did I tell you he was wise and supportive, or what?
Anyway. Today I am taking a break. I'm usually really excited every day to get more out, but today I need to step away.
He's right. This is definitely the part of my life where I can relax and breathe more than I've been able to do in a really long time.
It does bring up old feelings to write and relive that strange time. It's almost like a sense memory exercise. I can remember the texture of the pants ant the way they snapped that I was wearing while writing about a night out. I can remember the sound of the buzzer to get into the ATC building. I can remember pangs of heartbreak, loneliness, fun and craziness. It will never be that way again. First times. I don't ever want to forget how it felt and I'm happy I'm writing this before it's all too far away to recall but it is hard to do. Hard and good.
I thought it was important to document the process of this and how I'm feeling while it's happening. It's part nostalgia, part parallel lives, part reconciliation and and ultimate marrying of all of my experiences.
Accepting and allowing.
Thanks for reading and supporting.
I feel so lucky to have so much of my life documented in my journals. There is so much more to come. I don't know how I can not share it.
tweet me @deenamarie
What I didn't expect (but should have) was how emotional it was going to be. Yesterday I asked my sweetheart to help me scan some pictures to post in this blog. When I went to open up my photo album and choose the ones to be scanned, I couldn't. I could hardly look at them. I started to cry and I couldn't get a deep breath. My chest felt heavy and tight and I was completely overwhelmed.
I've looked at these old photo albums plenty of time through the years without reacting like that. My sweetheart is the best man in the world, and told me he just wanted to hold me and we could do this later.
I felt so stupid. I mean clearly I needed to get some emotions out, but it surprised me and I didn't want my sweetheart to think that I was missing my old life or unhappy in the present.
What I learn more every day is how wise and supportive he is. It's unreal.
We abandoned the picture task and went downstairs to watch episodes of The Office and just relax.
Later on, laying in bed I asked him what was wrong with me? We had a big conversation where he told me nothing is wrong with me, he has told me before how sensitive I am and how deeply I feel emotions. How he knows that's why I'm a good actress. I'm very in tune with my emotions and the emotions of those around me. He calls me an empath. He said my emotions are often just under the surface.
He also told me that I'm in a place in my life where for the first time in years I'm able to breathe. He said while he had experiences and lived out of the state and met new people and went new places, what I did was still different. I had gone from being surrounded by family in my cozy house my whole life to waiting for strangers to recognize me at the airport in NYC one day. How much went on the second I got there. Having to do a million things I'd never done before all alone in a new place. All at the same time. How it's particularly special because I was 19.
I agreed. Had I moved to NYC right now with so much more life experience it would be night and day. He said, "you're never 19 again". He was right. Of course! At 19 everything is a first. Everything is new.
He also went on to tell me how things have been a whirlwind for me from then, leading all the way up to us being married and me living in our cozy house we're in now with each other and our puppy.
Now I can relax. I can breathe. I have the time to soul search, process a big part of my life and chain of events that brought me to right here, right now. He said he's sure when people write their autobiographies there are plenty of tears and emotions involved.
He thinks it's all positive, and he's always interested and anxious to read the next installment. He hopes I do turn this into a book and was a big part of encouraging me to write about it in the first place.
Did I tell you he was wise and supportive, or what?
Anyway. Today I am taking a break. I'm usually really excited every day to get more out, but today I need to step away.
He's right. This is definitely the part of my life where I can relax and breathe more than I've been able to do in a really long time.
It does bring up old feelings to write and relive that strange time. It's almost like a sense memory exercise. I can remember the texture of the pants ant the way they snapped that I was wearing while writing about a night out. I can remember the sound of the buzzer to get into the ATC building. I can remember pangs of heartbreak, loneliness, fun and craziness. It will never be that way again. First times. I don't ever want to forget how it felt and I'm happy I'm writing this before it's all too far away to recall but it is hard to do. Hard and good.
I thought it was important to document the process of this and how I'm feeling while it's happening. It's part nostalgia, part parallel lives, part reconciliation and and ultimate marrying of all of my experiences.
Accepting and allowing.
Thanks for reading and supporting.
I feel so lucky to have so much of my life documented in my journals. There is so much more to come. I don't know how I can not share it.
tweet me @deenamarie
Monday, June 6, 2011
My New York Diaries - Part 3
If you've just tuned in, I'm blogging about the time in my life when I lived in NYC. I went to pursue my dream of studying acting. I suggest you start at part I to be properly caught up & for it to all make sense. These entries are combinations of my own personal diaries I kept at that time, and me simply writing my story when I need to fill in the blanks when I wasn't journaling consistently.
*All names are changed.
* * * * * * * * * *
No actual diary entry today. Gotta do a little catch up before I can get back to that.
It's about to get juicy!
The living situation. So my 3 weeks in NJ were up and I was moving into a new apartment. Here is a perfect example the sense of invincibility we have when we're young. Moving across the country with no place to live, just the faith that it would all work out. I don't even know if you could call it faith. I didn't need faith, I just knew. It is far easier to make these kinds of impulsive and terrifying decisions when you're young because you don't second guess, you just do. As we grow older we become more cautious. We are sensitive to what could go wrong because now we've experienced more life. And that means we've felt hurt. Heartache. Sadness. So we are are more careful. We debate and weight the risks hoping to avoid these things. But I hope to never let fear get in my way and to always remember the part of me that is truly brave and believes, no, knows things will work out.
School had stared and it was a lot. Now when I say I'm going to acting class, I don't mean a class. I mean classes. Like a full time job. This was a time when my parents were still supporting me. They paid my tuition. They paid my rent and they gave me money to live on. By no means were we a wealthy family. This was very hard for them. But they were so incredibly supportive. As an adult, I am far more appreciative of what they did and still can't even imagine what that took and how they felt and how hard that was. And what kind of love a parent must have for a child to want to give them their all so that they can succeed. And little did I know, unforeseen circumstances were about to happen that had I waited to go to NYC even a couple of years later, would have meant absolutely no help from my parents...and most likely...no NYC at all. It was the right place and the right time. That's all I can think.
There were students who did have jobs while going to school and that blew my mind. I didn't know how it was humanly possible to take on the load of school, rehearse and memorize when not in school, get sleep, have any kind of social life, and work.
I'm still impressed by anyone who can make it work. Living and working and affording to live in that city.
Of course some students already lived in NYC. But there were many, like me, who'd just moved. And we came from all over the world, spanning quite a variety of personalities and ages.
But back to the apartment search. You might be wondering why I wasn't living in a dorm. There were two ways to train with the Atlantic Theater Co. Acting School (founded by David Mamet and William H. Macy). It's an NYU studio and you could go through NYU to get your BFA or you could do two years in the conservatory training and get your certificate of completion. That is, if you were invited back for the second year. And if you weren't kicked out for tardies or absences (more on that later). I was doing the conservatory training. At this point all I wanted was to eat, sleep and breath acting class. Not math, not english, not science. For conservatory folk, dorms were not an option.
We'd started school and I was told there would be another girl coming a day or two late, moving from California and would be in the same situation as me. Meaning, in need of a place to live. It was a possibility we'd join forces and become roommates. I had my hopes pinned on her.
When she got there, we became instant friends. She was 6 or 7 years older and had bright red hair. Her name was *Martha.
We did move in together and it happened very quickly. We were in Chelsea one day, where the Atlantic studio was, and popping into various coffee shops and restaurants to check out any bulletin boards for "roommates wanted". That's how we found our place. Long story short, we ended up moving to The Bronx. 225th and Broadway, approximately. The first place I ever really lived in NYC.
Somehow we'd found a place where we could each have our own affordable room and in the same place! In our railroad apartment, there was another woman, who we really never saw, and our landlord *Juan.
I was no longer homeless and I was living with a friend! A friend who was in school with me, on the same schedule and could ride the subway with me in the morning. It was ideal. How lucky!
Too bad it didn't stay ideal for long.
Before we go any further, now is also a good time to tell you about the first day of school. I feel like it was yesterday, I can see it all so clearly. I remember what I was wearing. Pinstripe wide leg dress pants. Black doc martens. A black fitted v-neck t-shirt. A magenta sweater that my mom bought me right before I left. I loved it. It was brand new, the first time I'd worn it. I loved having something with me on my first day that my mom had given me. I remember arriving early and where I was sitting, waiting in the break room of sorts everyone referred to as The Lounge. Four things happened that day that still play somewhat regularly in my minds eye.
Again, all because of the right place and the right time along with being at the age when everything is life altering. The time of greatest impact.
1.) In The Lounge, before school had even started I remember a red door (most if not all were red) to my right open and students pouring in from a class that had just ended. I only saw one person. There was a boy with dark hair and Peter Parker glasses in a plain white t-shirt. I don't remember if he saw me watching him or not. But that was it. It was all over. That was The Guy. I don't know why or how or what it was about him, but I knew right then he was going to play a significant part of my NYC life.
And he did. Big time.
Stay tuned!
2.) In one of my first classes one of my teachers (who would go on to have a great impact on me, still to this day) *Tucker asked us all our ages. There were various ages from early 20's into mid 30's. When I said my (teenage) age every head in the room turned to look at me. He said, "serious?" I wasn't sure how to take that, but answered "yes". This would be my first experience with people lying about their ages. It would never have occurred to me to lie. Why would I do that? Later I found out many were insulted that day by being asked their age and lied by 3 or so years. That blew my mind. It took me years to get over that once I knew. It taught me, for better or for worse, to also be offended when asked my age. And to give various answers depending on the person and the situation.
3.) This same teacher, Tucker also told us to, "look around. You never know who you're sitting by". He went on to basically say you never know who each of us is going to become. I think of this often. I am in awe that some people who went on to do incredible things and others didn't even pursue acting afterward. I'm also amazed at who I grew up to be. In the way that I never would have guessed that the woman writing this blog at this very moment married who she married to, lives where she lives, works regularly in professional theater in killer roles, and has a whole crazy online life thanks to YouTube and the internet :)
4.) I lost my sweater. I had a hard time finding my way back to where I was staying in NJ that day. I got a little lost and ended up having to walk a long way. My feet were killing me, my docs rubbing them raw. I was sweating and took my sweater off to tie it around my waist. It wasn't until days later when I wanted to wear it again I realized it was gone. All I can figure is that it fell off while I was walking but I was so stressed about finding my way I didn't notice.
Losing that sweater bothers me to this day.
Part 1: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/new-york-state-of-mind.html
Part 2: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/new-york-state-of-mind-part-ii.html
*All names are changed.
* * * * * * * * * *
No actual diary entry today. Gotta do a little catch up before I can get back to that.
It's about to get juicy!
The living situation. So my 3 weeks in NJ were up and I was moving into a new apartment. Here is a perfect example the sense of invincibility we have when we're young. Moving across the country with no place to live, just the faith that it would all work out. I don't even know if you could call it faith. I didn't need faith, I just knew. It is far easier to make these kinds of impulsive and terrifying decisions when you're young because you don't second guess, you just do. As we grow older we become more cautious. We are sensitive to what could go wrong because now we've experienced more life. And that means we've felt hurt. Heartache. Sadness. So we are are more careful. We debate and weight the risks hoping to avoid these things. But I hope to never let fear get in my way and to always remember the part of me that is truly brave and believes, no, knows things will work out.
School had stared and it was a lot. Now when I say I'm going to acting class, I don't mean a class. I mean classes. Like a full time job. This was a time when my parents were still supporting me. They paid my tuition. They paid my rent and they gave me money to live on. By no means were we a wealthy family. This was very hard for them. But they were so incredibly supportive. As an adult, I am far more appreciative of what they did and still can't even imagine what that took and how they felt and how hard that was. And what kind of love a parent must have for a child to want to give them their all so that they can succeed. And little did I know, unforeseen circumstances were about to happen that had I waited to go to NYC even a couple of years later, would have meant absolutely no help from my parents...and most likely...no NYC at all. It was the right place and the right time. That's all I can think.
There were students who did have jobs while going to school and that blew my mind. I didn't know how it was humanly possible to take on the load of school, rehearse and memorize when not in school, get sleep, have any kind of social life, and work.
I'm still impressed by anyone who can make it work. Living and working and affording to live in that city.
Of course some students already lived in NYC. But there were many, like me, who'd just moved. And we came from all over the world, spanning quite a variety of personalities and ages.
But back to the apartment search. You might be wondering why I wasn't living in a dorm. There were two ways to train with the Atlantic Theater Co. Acting School (founded by David Mamet and William H. Macy). It's an NYU studio and you could go through NYU to get your BFA or you could do two years in the conservatory training and get your certificate of completion. That is, if you were invited back for the second year. And if you weren't kicked out for tardies or absences (more on that later). I was doing the conservatory training. At this point all I wanted was to eat, sleep and breath acting class. Not math, not english, not science. For conservatory folk, dorms were not an option.
We'd started school and I was told there would be another girl coming a day or two late, moving from California and would be in the same situation as me. Meaning, in need of a place to live. It was a possibility we'd join forces and become roommates. I had my hopes pinned on her.
When she got there, we became instant friends. She was 6 or 7 years older and had bright red hair. Her name was *Martha.
We did move in together and it happened very quickly. We were in Chelsea one day, where the Atlantic studio was, and popping into various coffee shops and restaurants to check out any bulletin boards for "roommates wanted". That's how we found our place. Long story short, we ended up moving to The Bronx. 225th and Broadway, approximately. The first place I ever really lived in NYC.
Somehow we'd found a place where we could each have our own affordable room and in the same place! In our railroad apartment, there was another woman, who we really never saw, and our landlord *Juan.
I was no longer homeless and I was living with a friend! A friend who was in school with me, on the same schedule and could ride the subway with me in the morning. It was ideal. How lucky!
Too bad it didn't stay ideal for long.
Before we go any further, now is also a good time to tell you about the first day of school. I feel like it was yesterday, I can see it all so clearly. I remember what I was wearing. Pinstripe wide leg dress pants. Black doc martens. A black fitted v-neck t-shirt. A magenta sweater that my mom bought me right before I left. I loved it. It was brand new, the first time I'd worn it. I loved having something with me on my first day that my mom had given me. I remember arriving early and where I was sitting, waiting in the break room of sorts everyone referred to as The Lounge. Four things happened that day that still play somewhat regularly in my minds eye.
Again, all because of the right place and the right time along with being at the age when everything is life altering. The time of greatest impact.
1.) In The Lounge, before school had even started I remember a red door (most if not all were red) to my right open and students pouring in from a class that had just ended. I only saw one person. There was a boy with dark hair and Peter Parker glasses in a plain white t-shirt. I don't remember if he saw me watching him or not. But that was it. It was all over. That was The Guy. I don't know why or how or what it was about him, but I knew right then he was going to play a significant part of my NYC life.
And he did. Big time.
Stay tuned!
2.) In one of my first classes one of my teachers (who would go on to have a great impact on me, still to this day) *Tucker asked us all our ages. There were various ages from early 20's into mid 30's. When I said my (teenage) age every head in the room turned to look at me. He said, "serious?" I wasn't sure how to take that, but answered "yes". This would be my first experience with people lying about their ages. It would never have occurred to me to lie. Why would I do that? Later I found out many were insulted that day by being asked their age and lied by 3 or so years. That blew my mind. It took me years to get over that once I knew. It taught me, for better or for worse, to also be offended when asked my age. And to give various answers depending on the person and the situation.
3.) This same teacher, Tucker also told us to, "look around. You never know who you're sitting by". He went on to basically say you never know who each of us is going to become. I think of this often. I am in awe that some people who went on to do incredible things and others didn't even pursue acting afterward. I'm also amazed at who I grew up to be. In the way that I never would have guessed that the woman writing this blog at this very moment married who she married to, lives where she lives, works regularly in professional theater in killer roles, and has a whole crazy online life thanks to YouTube and the internet :)
4.) I lost my sweater. I had a hard time finding my way back to where I was staying in NJ that day. I got a little lost and ended up having to walk a long way. My feet were killing me, my docs rubbing them raw. I was sweating and took my sweater off to tie it around my waist. It wasn't until days later when I wanted to wear it again I realized it was gone. All I can figure is that it fell off while I was walking but I was so stressed about finding my way I didn't notice.
Losing that sweater bothers me to this day.
Part 1: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/new-york-state-of-mind.html
Part 2: http://beanerlarue.blogspot.com/2011/06/new-york-state-of-mind-part-ii.html
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