Monday, August 31, 2015

Firsts

And so the adventure begins.

I arrived three days ago. I caught a cab. I big part of me wanted to go for public transit right off the bat. I'm not 100% stupid though, so I took my extra heavy bag and two carry ons to the cab stand and paid my $40 fare (totally worth it) to get to my generous hosts' house.

Totally nerdy picture of a city bridge I took from the cab.

The place I'm currently staying is delightful. Two performers (one focusing predominately in the dance medium) and someone that I'm fairly certain is a marketing director of some kind. 

When I first arrived no one was home. Keys were left for me sneakily. I hauled my things up stairs and settled in, noting the very sweet and excited dog in the kennel in the living room. 

"Can I let your pooch out, or does it stay kenneled till you get home?" I texted my host.

Gah! That FACE!

"You can let him out! His name's Murphy. He's my roommates. I think there's a leash by the door if you want to take him out to pee too!" 

Of course I did. 1. I love dogs. 2. What a nice thing to come home to after a long day at work, knowing that your dog had already been taken out. 3. Why bother thinking beyond that? WHAT COULD POSSIBLY BE WRONG WITH THIS PLAN?!

I changed out of my sweaty shirt and grabbed Murphy and we were off! Sure I was in a city I didn't know, but I had looked at maps pretty studiously for the last few weeks, and Murphy clearly knew exactly where we were going.

We strolled along, he peed on everything. He led me around a corner and tried to tug me across the street to a dog park. I know better than to take a dog I don't know very well into a dog park. At least I have that going for me. 

I wanted to turn around and head back, as I realized I'd neglected to leave a note for Murphy's owners and they might be worried that someone had robbed their apartment of their dog. Maybe my host had forgotten to tell her roommates that I was coming in today. I hadn't even met these people yet. For all they know maybe I'm just a serial dog napper. 

Now of course as I started trying to loop back Murphy was NOT okay with they fact that we were missing his favorite point of the walk. You know, that part with grass, and other dogs? I apologized to him, (as dogs totally understand what an apology is and it fixes everything) and kept tugging him along, attempting to not look like some sort of animal abusing idiot while trying to find my way back to the apartment I had left six blocks ago.

I pulled out my phone and mapped myself, which I HATE doing, but I was out of options. I kept heading down and re-checking block by block. At about the fifth time I checked my phone (we'd probably been out for a good half hour at that point) I looked up from my screen to see a man 20 yards from me eyeing me suspiciously. He then squatted down with a sign of relief and said, "Hi Murph."  

Over apologies ensued. I felt dreadful, then promptly called him by the wrong name. Then apologized some more. I should have known better than to take him without asking you directly, I should have at the very least left a note, I should have not been an idiot.

Murph on our totally non-approved walk.

It took us a couple days but I think we're on the level now. He cooked the whole house breakfast this morning. It was delicious. I'm very lucky and trying to be the least noticeable house guest I can be. I leave them tomorrow.

I have housing lined up for September as of last night.

I still don't have a student ID.

I'm still not registered for classes, that start on Monday. 

I have a very small, part time position working in the office of the theater. 

I have a cat that wakes me up at three AM to snuggle. He's lovely.

I have my chevro-legs.

I have a ukulele, thanks to a dear friend who gifted me one we've named the "starter uke" that I am to gift and sign as soon as I purchase a better one.

I have a kick ass theatre program and a diverse and exciting cohort. 

I have work to do. I need to start living a less guarded existence. It hasn't gotten me far. It certainly hasn't gotten me anywhere compared to laying all my cards out and showing my under belly and saying, "I could use some help." "I'm really vulnerable right now." "Please." "Thank you."

I like this place. A lot. People are nice. I've been thrown into a family of people who want me to do well.

Adventure officially begun.


Monday, August 24, 2015

Adventure.

A little more than four weeks ago I heard about a new MFA program. A program across the country that had recently come into existence from the magical roots of a theater company that I've long admired from afar that started in the mid nineties.

I was in the midst of finding something to do while working at my summer job which consisted of sometimes teaching and sometimes making myself available to teachers while they taught kids to sing songs from musical theater. I buried myself in an office and tried to shut out the non-melodious sound of 9-year-olds learning what the words "off key" mean.

I went to the schools website and figured it was far to late to apply for this Fall, but I figured I'd get a head start on Fall 2016 and started my application. I think I put in my address and saved it, going back to do something more relevant to work.

Here's some things they do:
They're website's pretty great too: pigiron.org


Two days later I got an e-mail from the school.

We've got spots available for Fall 2015.
You should apply.
Have any questions?
Need anything? 
Here's the program director.
Here's three former students you can talk to about anything you want.
What kind of theater do you make?
Where are you? Boise? That's so cool.
Let's Skype interview.
We like you. Do you like us?
Come. Please. Bring your weird Boise magic.

Now, there's some pretty fantastic roller coaster craziness that happened in the two weeks leading up to my departure- which is now in two days. Things that multiple times made me come to the conclusion that I couldn't go, then could, then couldn't again. They're entries in and of themselves and I'll save them for another time.

As of now, I have less than 48 hours left in what I have made my hometown for the last fifteen years. It's weird. I'm still unsure of where I'm sleeping the first night I'm there- though I have a last resort, so that's good. I'm terrified. And so excited. I'm moving to Philadelphia to make some art with people. It's going to be an Adventure.

Now if you'll excuse me. I need to get back to putting my life in boxes.