The Sights and Sounds of an East Village Morning

It is just after 8am and I am out walking. Beth Orton’s “Central Reservation Line” song is in my ear, via my ipod, reminding me that “today is whatever I want it to mean.” The morning air is fresh, and I know that the sun is shining because I can see patches of sunlight splashed across the sides of the tall buildings that surround me. For now, I live in a place called “Stuyvesant Town” – the scope of which I was somewhat oblivious to, until Tracey stopped us in our tracks yesterday and pointed to the stretch of brown-brick highrise apartment buildings, that seem to go on for blocks, and blocks, that make up “Stuyvesant Town.”

I’ve been educated by actual New Yorkers (as in, people who were born here) about the history of this odd, downtown, miniature suburbia. These buildings (with incredibly generous sized apartments!) were built by the U.S. government towards the end of the 1940’s, so that those returning home from the war would have a place to live. Can you imagine? I can. And in my imagination it is summer, sometime in the 1950’s, and there are children playing with skipping ropes and jax... It must be a Saturday because there are adults standing around talking to one another too. The air is thick and hazy with the heat of summer in downtown Manhattan. This imaginary scene is a beautiful paradox.

Meanwhile, fifty-some-odd years later, a 25 year-old Canadian girl is out for a morning walk. The moment is post-yoga, and the day is post-hangover. My new T-shirt, from De La Vega’s “Become Your Dream” store reads: “BE MINDFUL, EVEN IF YOUR MIND IS FULL.” This is my mantra for today. Our show this evening will be stellar, and flawless. (Ah, the zen of stage management... what?)

I savour the experience of joining my neighbours in their respective morning commutes to work and school. I keep place closely with a black man, professionally-yet-stylishly dressed in an outfit toped off with a funky newsboy hat, as he leads his beautiful daughter (my educated guess: aged 9) towards her school. I pass them just as they pause, oh-so-momentarily at the steps of her school, he pecks her softly on the cheek and they part ways. She disappears into the front doors of her downtown eastside school and however oblivious to me, he catches up with me at the corner. He turns and crosses in a different direction than I am headed, and my last image of him makes me smile: He gently and casually high-fives another man, who is walking with his wife and small son, as they pass on the street, like ships passing in the night. It is a simple and beautiful moment.

A few blocks later, I find myself in Union Square. I opt against the 20 person-long line-up at Starbucks and instead duck into a very modern and sparsely decorated French café called TISSERIE. I relax over a café latte and the tastiest whole wheat 7 grain muffin I’ve ever had (the French really do know how to make sh*t taste good!), and I watch a different kind of New York morning scene unfold. The clientele here are pretty much the kind of people one might expect to find in a modern French café on a Tuesday morning in downtown Manhattan; The stylish business people order coffees and lattes to go with the calm and ease of those who have enough money and confidence to not need to rush to their workplaces. Similarly, well-dressed 30-somethings conduct friendly morning meetings over organic teas and decadent pastries. I stand out a little in my jeans and T-shirt, but find myself thinking “How do they know I’m not totally rich and almost famous?” ‘Cause I am.

My last stop of the morning is my favorite spot to grocery shop – Manhattan’s only “Trader Joe’s”. Apparently, the rest of Manhattan shares my affinity for this place. And I can’t blame ‘em. This apparently well-known American chain store sells the tastiest, healthiest (often organic) food for the most insanely affordable prices – and they have a plethora of ready-to-serve options! A little piece of grocery store heaven, just around the corner from my abode.

So, am I lucky? Yup. But I’ll say this too: I’m not just lucky, I’m happy. I’m working my ass off, but I’m also loving every moment of being here. And thus, the laws of attraction (like attracts like) seem to be working quite nicely for me…

NAMASTE

What an 'Open Bar' leads to...

I'm only posting this photo because:
a) it's the only one Tracey emailed to me (the others are actually much more flattering of me, but she's making goofy faces...)
and
b) I'm not afraid to admit to you that I can make an ass of myself, and be able to laugh about it afterwards

So this is me and my new friend Brent. Brent is from Winnipeg and actually knows my friend Anthony (how well, I'm not sure...). He's a nice guy who maybe got about half as drunk as I did. Thank goodness for that because we really needed him on "Team Search For Meghan's Purse" - a team that consisted of the FRIGID Festival General Manager Akia, the Festival Director's wife Laura, and Brent. I had these three running around all three floors of the building, searching for my misplaced purse and jacket. Twice. Each time these items were found, they were in really covert places such as hanging on the back of a chair in the middle of the main party room. I'm also not even sure why I was looking for them so often...

And just to help you picture the evening a little more vividly, other highlights include:

• Running up to the Managing Director of the Festival, Erez, while he is holding a bunch of FRIGID Festival T-shirts and asking for one only to realise that I did the same thing just a few hours earlier (picture me pawing through the pile of T-shirts in his arms like a drunk puppy in response to his question: "what size would you like?" Oh My.)
• Dancing Crazy to Knarls Barkley's "Crazy" song with 2 dancers from The Flamenco Show, only to be told by Erez that the building is too old for us to be dancing like that. Really. So then we danced crazy without moving our feet. Even I can't imagine what that looked like.
• Me talking to Erez's lovely wife Laura. And talking. And talking. And... You know, I have this vivid picture in my mind's eye of her sweet, caring face as she listened to me talk. But I am hard-pressed to remember many moments when I shut own mouth and listened to her. Oh My.

And at the end of the night, as I stood outside smoking cigarettes (bad, BAD girl...) with 3 of the 4 festival organisers, Morgan (the Press Rep) insisted that I enter her cell phone number into my phone, just in case I got lost on the way home (a mere 10 blocks away). As I stumbled down the street just after 2am, I'm pretty sure I heard someone remark in awe: "Canadians sure know how to party!"

Eh!

The Morning After

Is it a bad thing when you wake up and before you even open your eyes, all you can think to do is exclaim "Oh no, oh no..." ?

In my own defense, I think I did it more for the laughs... 'Did what?' you may be asking. Well, I've had that thought myself, a few times this morning. I actually mean the waking up and yelling "Oh no" over and over again. I think I did it so that Tracey would be intrigued to hear more about how much fun I had after she went home last night.

So, last night was the FRIGID Festival party, complete with open bar and a Canadian girl who accidentally forgot to eat dinner... You can imagine what it was like.

Tracey has some photos on her camera that she is going to send me so that you can get a little glimpse of how much I love New York... But she's not sure yet which one she trusts me to have, for fear of what might end up on the internet, I think...

Are you intrigued yet?
Good.

PS - if I sound peppy and together, it's a total act.
I am remembering why I don't drink much anymore.
Hangovers suck.
(And to top it off, I'm meeting Jackie Mason today - for real!)

My Secret

Wanna know a dirty little secret? Okay, well... One of my favorite things to do, when I have a few moments to myself, and am in an American city, is watch TV. It helps me to really feel like am a part of the culture here. I very rarely get to watch TV otherwise.

So, right now I am watching the Forbes Celebrity 100 TV Special "Who Made Bank" and learning all about which celebrities are ridiculoulsy rich and how they throw their money around recklessly. It's an interesting contrast to the Suze Orman special "Women & Money" that I just watched on PBS. God, I love this country and it's broad variety of perspectives...

Now, I have to say, I was very inspired by Suze Orman. And I was reminded that I actually already own one of her books - very thoughtfully given to me by my friend Thea, years ago - as well as another book about women & financial independence called "Prince Charming Isn't Coming". It felt very serendipitous to be watching this show, and remembering those books sitting on my bookshelf at home in Toronto, and realising that it's really time for me to grow up and take responsibility for, and control of, my financial life. (It's interesting to note that these days I seem to often be finding myself coming "full circle" and/or returning to some interest I had earlier in my life... hmm, wonder what that means?)

Alright, so the big message about Women And Money that Suze Orman had for me (and now you) is this: It's not about how much money you have or don't have, or how much debt you have, it is about how you feel... First and foremost about yourself, and by extension, your financial state. This is all very "The Secret" to me, which I am totally into because if you ask me, it ain't really a secret - my friend Anthony and I swear we knew this sh*t all along! Anyhow, with regards to the money thing, I am ready to admit (and here, on the internet of all places!) that I have not always been very good with money. And by that I mean I have pretty much always been bad with money. But all that is changing, and now. Because I say so.

I vow, here and now, to take full and complete responsibility for my financial status from here on in. I have the power, the intelligence and the commitment to be financially responsible, and eventually even wealthy! Yup, 'cause I say so. I can, and will, own a lovely home one day. I choose to make my living doing things that I love, and I will find ways to make these things lucrative. (And as long as I"m predicting the future here, I will get to meet Oprah one day and will someday make my home in New York City too - why not?!) If I really want it, I'm sure I could make my way onto the Forbes Celebrity 100 list in a few years, but that thought just doesn't make my heart flutter like some others do... So be it.

The final interesting piece of gospel that Suze Orman had for us gals is this: OWN YOUR NAME. She talked about how when she asks women to say their name, they often ask her "Which one? My married name, my divorced name or my maiden name?" And even if you're single, or still happily married, there are the options of Mrs, Ms and Miss. Suze points out that men do not have this problem. There is never a question about who they are. She reminds us that our names are our identities - so decide what yours is, and own it.

And on that note,
I'm Meghan (but you can call me Triple, Meg, Megs or Boss)
and I love New York City!!!

Friday Night Blogging, Part II - the pics

This is me, from aproximately 2:30 - 4:30pm this afternoon, acting like I'm totally in charge and able to make decisions about lighting cues, etc. (A.k.a, our Tech Rehearsal)


And now, several hours later (note the glossy-eyed expression), post-totally-sensational opening night show... Here I am, at some bar, with the lovely friends of Tracey's friends... Ah, "six degrees"... I think I'm going to call this picture "I'm not a lesbian, but I wish I was..."