#6 Watching over 30 Broadway shows...ON Broadway

Okay, this accomplishment might seem a bit indulgent or even expensive, but every single one of them was worth it. Some were even free (refer back to accomplishment #5 to see why). I wish I remembered my first Broadway show. Maybe my mother remembers. I'd venture to say Annie, though I'm not certain. There's nothing like a song that bounces around in your head for weeks. I love the sound of tap shoes hitting the stage floor. 

As soon as I met the dancing feet of 42nd Street (in the first row!), I knew that Broadway had "lit my candle." I didn't even need the best ass below 14th Street or a "How to..." book to succeed! My first high school musical performance was Bye, Bye Birdie. I was always a chorus girl, but that was enough for me. I knew I'd never be in the money with the singing voice I with which I was cursed.  Performing in high school musicals taught me how to stand back and let others have the spotlight. Not to be too egotistical here, but I've usually succeeded and been really good at whatever I've done. I learned leadership can be done from the sidelines--what a valuable life lesson. 

Then there's the time when I was given free tickets to sit in 10th row of the orchestra of The Producers. Ironically, my new boyfriend (at the time) and I had talked about buying tickets to see it. Tell me, "Where did I go right?" We coupled the tickets with dinner at Carmine's and had ourselves quite the New York date. Okay, so the relationship fizzled faster than Max Bialystock's career on Broadway. 


And no entry about Broadway would be complete without Rent. Everyone in Generation Y measures their life in five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes (525,600). But do they truly believe and live the idea that we are here to inspire, play hookey once in a while, to go against the grain, to forget about pension, to hate convention and pretension? To be an "us" and not a "them"? That's La Vie Boheme. That's Rent to me. People perceive me as pretty conventional and compliant, until they hear me speak and push me to act in defiant ways--all for a higher purpose. I always want to be passionate, not fashionate. Seeing Rent four times (once a year for 4 straight years) provided me moments to reflect and make sure I was on the right path. I would love to say that it's show for females, but I saw one of my closest male friends break down and cry during it. I won't reveal his name so his man card isn't taken. :) Maybe Jonathan Larson wrote Rent to expose the qualities of Generation X, but I'm ABSOLUT-ly confident that growing up with this show influenced Generation Y's embodiment of those La Vie Boheme qualities. Rent is us, it's evidence of real life becoming more like fiction every day.

Broadway shows are my opportunity to, "relax...not pay income tax...pretend it's my vacation," and remember that, "Ev'ry situation has a sunny side." It's that mentality I want to carry with me in life, so much that at one point I tried to make it my career. I wanted to realize life, while I lived it--every, every minute. I learned that Broadway is my place to do this...then take that spirit into the world. I couldn't realize the wonderfulness of the world working in an industry that often sullied my perfect view of those three hours on a Saturday afternoon or evening. 
 
Hopefully, you picked up on my allusions. If not, here are some pictures to help you!

I was blessed and honored to be inspired by Paul Newman's performance in this show. I ended up working at Westport Country Playhouse, where Joanne Woodward was the Artistic Director and met Paul. He was an amazing human being.

#5 Living in New York City

Once upon a time, a very wise woman said, "...you only get one great love, then New York may just be mine...and I can't have nobody talkin' shit about my boyfriend." Carrie Bradshaw was onto something with this. In this crazy, confusing world New York has always been my dependable, "go-to", "fall back", feel good place. When I'm walking those streets, I'm so sure about EVERYTHING in my life. If you ever want to persuade me to do something you want, make sure I'm not in the 212. Your chance of winning greatly decreases.


Moving into my Astoria apartment was the fruition of a 22 year dream. Okay, maybe like a 17 year dream, since I don't know that NYC was on my radar before the age of 5. Twenty-two years old and I was ready to take on the world. (Aren't all 22 year olds?) After spending an eventful summer in Westport, I secured a job at Lincoln Center--THE center of the arts world. Working in the same office as Wynton Marsalis? YES, sign me up. In the end, he didn't come to the office much, but I am saving the bottle of Christal I managed to get from him. (That's a whole other story and I should probably thank G & I...and W's distaste for Christal. Hehe.) 


So what if I had to live in a borough? I commuted to the Island every day--hell or high water. Literally, high water. I can't help but remember the warm fall day when some of the subways flooded. It took my roommate (who happens to be one of my oldest and dearest friends) and I about 2 or 3 hours to get to work. The commute was normally 40 minutes. Thankfully, we had each other in those moments we got stuck--my absolute biggest fear during those 2 years of my life. What could be worse than having to pee and being stuck in the subway? If you figure out an answer, let me know!


I could write for days about the people with whom I worked. They epitomize the professional ideal. It was them who taught me how to work, how to be professional, how to be efficient, how to be personable and how to have fun with my co-workers. I attribute every professional success I have to them. Invaluable life skills. Nowadays, I find myself frustrated because I don't find the same sense of professionalism in education, as a whole. I guess Jazz music attracts dynamic professionals. Whatever it was, I would pay to have them back in my life on a regular basis. 


I wanted to be a part of it, so I dove into NYC and swam. Frank Sinatra sang it best, "If I can make it there/I can make it anywhere." I made it there. Sometimes I want to leave everything behind and go back. I want to get lost on the city streets. I want to sit in Central Park and make up fake stories about the passersby. I want to stand in line at Magnolia, like a tourist, and get a vanilla cupcake with pink buttercream icing. I want to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge for pizza. I want to eat brunch, with a mimosa included, for $14.95. I want to purchase an unlimited MetroCard. I want to randomly get free tickets to sit in the 10th row at the newest Broadway show. I want to avoid the crowds at Times Square and 5th Avenue. I want to mosey around Bleecker Street Records. I want to buy my dad coffee at the Porto Rico exchange. I want to drink warm beer and eat dirty water dogs under the B Train before a Yankees game. I want to trudge through a foot of snow in Central Park. I want to smell roasted chestnuts in December.

In the end, my boyfriend and I had an embattled relationship. I had and still have so many expectations for NYC, much like my high expectations for people. I was let down. When it didn't give me what I wanted, I got angry. How do you live day-by-day with something that has been built up for so long? That's the question that lingered. It's just another place to live to be honest. Living there didn't mean I no longer had to clean my apartment or go grocery shopping. Granted, I utilized Fresh Direct, so the groceries were delivered to my door exactly when I requested them. At the ripe, young age of 22, I wanted the Friends lifestyle.

New York City is great. I would move back in a heartbeat, BUT with a whole different set of expectations. It's just another place to live. I would take advantage of that expectation, but never forget that it's one of the greatest places in the world. New York is my boyfriend...I don't want anyone talkin' shit on him...


These are a few of my favorite things...

 I was honored to be a part of the Frederick P. Rose Hall opening in October 2004. 

I think if you look hard enough you can see Carrie breaking Aidan heart. Most of the time I worked here, the Circle was under construction. It's such a sight to behold every time I see it now.

 The bakery that started the cupcake craze! It's the perfect combination of flavors and consistencies. K and I tried to recreate these once, even followed a recipe, but we might have destroyed a kitchen instead. 

 They've even upgraded the boxes...

 My favorite.

 A and I stumbled upon this one random evening. The salads tasted like home--the dressing from our grade school spaghetti dinners. Monte's won our hearts and I still make visits. 

I think a co-worker in Westport told me about the Corner Bistro, and somehow it just became my favorite bar. I'm sure the cheap beer and burgers had something to do with it.

 New York's drug store...you're not a New Yorker, if you go to CVS. Plain and simple. This one in Penn Station was a regular stop for when I was traveling in and out of town. 

#4 Walking with a broken femur

Those who know me very well know that I have a unique genetic bone disorder--osteogenesis imperfecta. Yes, I can even spell it without looking it up. I was diagnosed before the age of 2 and after my parents underwent the modern day Inquisition. "Exactly how did your daughter break her leg this time?" was a standard question from the ER doctors reviewing my files. Fortunately, they decided to do some testing, instead of finger pointing. 

If you ever look at my childhood pictures, I'd venture to say I'm casted in 3 out of every 5. At least that's how it feels. There was a span of time that I didn't hang out with some part of my body casted. Unfortunately, as I've hit my mid to late 20s I've also started injuring myself more. Ugh. The joke at my job is, "What will you injure this year?" In the past five years, students have seen me in an immobilizer (a misdiagnosed ACL tear, since those afflicted with OI are more flexible than other humans), a wrist brace (no one was ever quite sure why I couldn't move it), crutches (unrelated to OI, but still CRUTCHES), and a boot (for the everlasting, makes me so happy stress fracture, my most recent injury). 

OI is part of who I am. It taught me that nothing--physical or mental--can hold me back. Time heals all wounds, right? At the ripe old age of 4, while wearing footie pajamas, I slid down the stairs at home. Immediately I started screaming. My mom thought I hit my head. My dad immediately sprung into action and transferred me to an extra piece of kitchen counter he had in the basement, then carried me down the front steps. I couldn't tell you what happened after that and before I ended up in traction for six weeks. I remember meeting Wendy, the best nurse a 4 year old could ask for. Even though I don't know why she was so great now. After traction, came weeks of both legs in a cast and a bar diagonally across the middle. It was a sight.

Furthermore, it was supposed to be a barrier. I wasn't supposed to walk. I was supposed to sit in the bean bag chair my mother had borrowed from someone. Throughout life so far, I wasn't supposed to do alot of things, but I have each time. Beating the odds has always kind of been my thing and I'm positive it dates back to the broken femur. I didn't care what anyone said, I was going to do what I was going to do. Hmmm sounds familiar...

Osteogenesis Imperfecta 

#3 Attaining a Masters degree

A long time ago I started to attach accomplishment with education. I guess that has something to do with my being a teacher. I can't say I remember my parents specifically saying this, but I'm assuming it was always implied. Graduating from my undergraduate program was a big ordeal in and of itself, and then I suddenly raised the bar--I would get a Masters degree.

The first step was to register and take the GRE. Taking the test in 2002 gave me 5 years to get into graduate school. After a few twists and turns (read previous post), I ended up at Chestnut Hill College in the Education program, clearly, in 2006. Woo--one year until my test scores expired!

In 2008, I graduated with a Masters in Education. An expectation for many, a large accomplishment for me. Now what's next? PhD? EdD? JD? Stay tuned.

#2: Becoming a teacher

Okay, okay, nowadays being a teacher is more of a mark of shame than a point of pride for most people and even me sometimes. Many days in fact. I'm regularly told that I'm too smart to be a teacher and should take a job that will pay me what I'm worth. I agree in so many ways, but it's true that I'm good at what I do. It's taken me five years to do it, but I have accomplished this.

Once upon a time, I sat in a nice cubicle from 10 am to 6 pm on the Upper West Side of Manhattan answering the phone and directing emails to the correct person. I attended lavish fundraisers with some of the most fascinating people in the world--Wynton Marsalis, Dr. Skip Gates, Shahara Ahmad-Llewellyn, Peter Norton, Bob Dylan, Caroline Kennedy, Sarah Jessica Parker, Diana Ross, David Stern, etc. This list could go on. Glamor. Some would say, "Why give this up? Eventually you'll get the job you deserve." I gave it up to hang out with more glamorous people--teenagers.

Teenagers are glamorous in their own way. They enter the classroom each day waiting to embark on a new knowledge journey. They soak up whatever you give them, if you sell and package it properly. Much like the donors we tried to secure in my last life. That's all people really want--to be treated fairly, honestly and with respect. Knowing that I was capable of this, and often find myself with too much energy, I needed to become a teacher.

Using the English degree that I worked my butt off for, I applied for and was accepted to the Philadelphia Teaching Fellows. One month of intensive training and I was then placed in a classroom that hadn't seen a full-time teacher in over six months. Sounds like failure, right? Nah, the moment I walked in, I said to myself, "I got this." Again, teenagers are just mini-adults waiting to be treated fairly, honestly and with respect.

Five years later, I no longer need to tell myself, "I got this." My students show me the evidence every day that I got it. Are there days that the haters get to me? Yes. Are there days I think I work in an industry that pays me my net worth? YES. At the end of the day though, there are sacrifices that must be made in order to continue the American democracy.

Philadelphia Teaching Fellows 

April: 30 Things We've Accomplished Before 30...

#1: Phillies vs. Yankees World Series

In October 2009, I attended the World Series. Okay, this may seem quite superficial, nor an accomplishment, but timely since today Opening Day 2011 for the Phillies.

See the thing is that growing up my grandfather LOVED the Yankees and my father LOVED (and still LOVES) the Phillies. I was always distraught as to whom I should be supporting. Not to mention, one of my older brothers was a die-hard Red Sox fan. I respected his love for Wade Boggs and thought on many occasions that I should support that team. Being pulled in three directions eventually wore on me and I stuck with the hometown team--MY Philadelphia Phillies! Nothing says Sunday more to me than Harry Kalas on the radio in the kitchen and golf on the television in the living room. To this day, when I find myself with a free Sunday I recreate that atmosphere, of course, sans Harry, but it almost feels as good.

After watching my boys of summer win the 2008 World Series, I knew that I needed to go to a Philadelphia World Series someday. Hanging out at Chickie's or the Irish Pub just wasn't going to cut it for the next Series, if there ever was one. The last one was before I was born, so I was pretty sure this was a pipe dream.

The moment became real while I was watching the NLCS at Chickie's. Suddenly, I found myself sprinting down Broad Street with A and celebrating at the intersection of Broad and Snyder in October 2009. It was then I knew I would spend whatever money I had to be there. I needed to feel (and savor) the energy in Citizen's Bank Park. Surreal.

A co-worker, a Yankees fan thankfully, and I purchased the best our money could buy, STANDING ROOM ONLY tickets. I won't even indulge you with the price. Most would be ashamed, but I'm not. It turned out to be one of the best investments of my life, thanks to the Yankees fan.

Bottom of the second inning, a desperate man comes over to us, and says, "Are you a real Yankees fan?" To which I reply, "Do you want to see her tattoo?" No kidding, she has a tattoo. He explained how his friend was sick and they had to leave. We took his tickets--THIRD row behind the Yankees. I didn't care if they were wearing blue, I was so close to J-Roll, Ryan, Chase, and Chooch!! Thank goodness for that rain delay! That had just a little to do with the guy's illness.

We lost that Series, but I won. I did something that so few have done...before I was 30!

 Hey CC!

Yep, that was our view!

Turning 30

Over the course of the past year, I've spoken to many of my "over 30" friends about turning 30. Many of them have said exactly the same thing, "It was scary, but I'd never want to be in my twenties again. I actually know who I am now." Sure, it sounds great, but 30 is STILL scary. I've had freak-outs, some more severe than others. Some freak-outs were just stupid. I'm convinced that blogging over the next year will help me come to terms with no longer being a twenty-something. Wasn't there a tv show entitled, "thirtysomething" in the 1980s? There must be some value in this birthday. I will find its value and stop being scared. 

On this twelve month journey, M and I will tackle a different list each month. Each list will consist of 30 items. I think 30 is a great age to reflect and set goals, so here you will read it all.

Stay tuned for MY first official post on April 1, 2011! 

-D