If you know me, you know that I’m easily distracted from where I am, perhaps in hopes of being somewhere else or discovering something new. Some call me nomadic, others flighty, others have told me I have the Wanderlust. My Dad, at a young age, told me that I was a Child Of The Planet. I listen to stories of people who have traveled and seen the world, have gotten lost to only find the most magnificent of places and I yearn to be one of those people.
My last post highlighted some amazing unforgotten friendships. One that I skipped is my friend Quincy. Q and I know each other only because our Dad’s grew up together, him and I recently in the last few years have become good friends through chance and mutual love for having fun. Whenever I travel to NYC Q makes up his guest room like a perfectly cozy hotel, complete with mini shampoo and conditioner bottles and a snack. Being in Brooklyn, seeing shows, slowing down and being there makes me want to be in New York City all the time. I end up feeling more like a local than a tourist because Q knows how to do New York.
The hustle and bustle, the creativity that flies around the Village is tangible. Jazz music wafts our of bar doors, dancers walk down the street hoping to catch the next 6 train up town. Even the shops are eclectic and hold my interest for much longer than the chain stores in Soho. There are fortunetellers on every corner ready to tell you your future.
I was also was able to meet up with an old high school friend who was a director of one of my schools shows. I watched him audition people for a one act he’s directing, silently pleading him to need to cast a curly haired brunette and then beg me to stay in New York to perform. And then I’d eventually find a job, an apartment and make my life there—poof! If only life was so simple.
Q, being the caretaker he is, gave me the number for a car service to call that morning to get me to the airport from Brooklyn safely and on time. Eventually I’ve had to say goodbye. Goodbye to Manhattans in Manhattan. Goodbye to easy public transportation, fashion, cheap but amazing street food. Goodbye.
Walking below ground at Union Square with my director friend, we embraced, promised to keep in touch—my dreams of off-Broadway fame fleeting as quickly as the subway cars taking tourists to 42nd street. He going uptown to his day job (because being creative won’t make anyone money,) and me heading back to Brooklyn to soon fly back to the left coast, we let go. It was hard. Saying goodbye to my past and perhaps a future I may be destined to have one day; I said goodbye too much on this trip.