Just Checkin' In

Anyone else feel like this blog sucks?

Okay good.  You're not alone.

I need to either post more often or shut it down completely because man, this once a week random posting of something not even remotely funny is boring ME. I can't begin to imagine that any of you make it past the first paragraph before clicking over to something cooler than me. Like this.

I've read quite a few articles lately about bloggers and how boring it is to read a blog and how narcissistic it is to have a blog and on and on. And these articles make me THINK, you guys. They make me think about how I've had this blog since 1998 and how it's like the only thing in my life that I've stuck with besides you know, being awkward and getting an education.

And I think about that and my brain starts to hurt and I feel like I'm on the cusp of a revelation, y'all, a REVELATION and then I get distracted by something bright and shiny. Like the box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch my dad bought for me because GUESS WHAT? Cinnamon Toast Crunch recently became a vegan product.

Amount of People Reading This Blog Who Care About That: .5

Speaking of weird things that happen on the subway, I was walking down the steps to the train platform this afternoon when I overheard a touristy family say, "Well, then we just have to ASK SOMEONE WHO LIVES HERE." And I knew, I JUST KNEW that they would zero in on me because apparently, I always look like someone who 1) knows if the train is running express today B) knows where the nearest bathroom is 4d) knows if you'd look fat in that skirt.

The family rushed over to me but took me completely by surprise when I saw that the high school age daughter was crying. She was ridiculously pretty, with gold hoop earrings and big brown eyes and she asked me, "Do you ride these trains!?"

"Ummm. Yes."

"See...uh...they're dark...and...I can't...I just..." 

Then she burst into tears. 

Her mother came to the rescue and explained to me that her daughter (Becca! We're from Seattle!) was extremely claustrophobic and they really wanted to take the ferry to see the Statue of Liberty except EVERY TIME they got on the train, Becca would panic, start screaming and run off of it.

I kind of almost laughed because dude, I'm insane but I've never done that but instead I said, "I totally relate. I'm claustrophobic and I don't deal well with elevators."

In that moment, Becca from Seattle slipped her arm through mine and whispered, "Will you ride the train with me?"

"Sure."

The train came. I got on, the family got on, Becca got on and then FLIPPED OUT LIKE I'VE NEVER SEEN. It was honestly incredible.  She started screaming her head off and running for the door while her mother blocked it and yelled at her to just STAY ON THE TRAIN, BECCA! YOU CAN DO IT!

"NO, I CAAAAAAAAAAAAN'T!!!!" Becca wailed and her mother insisted that she hold onto me tightly.

Wha??

She grabbed my hand as she muttered that it was dark, it was very dark, and the train is fast and then she progressed to hugging my arm and then, THEN, she threw her arms around my neck and hugged my ENTIRE BODY.

"Let's talk about something, Becca!" I suggested, talking into her hair. "Let's take a deep breath and talk about something!"

"Let's..." stammered Becca, pulling away and staring into my eyes, "Let's...SING RENT!"

"What?!" 

"RENT!" shouted Becca as the other people in the train car stared.

Her mother, realizing what a great idea it was got excited, "Becca loves Rent! Don't you Becca!? Don't they sing a song on the train! Do you know Rent?!"

"Um. Yes. I do."

"SING RENT WITH ME!" pleaded Becca.

And you guys? 

Much like Meatloaf, I can do anything for Becca, but I can't do that.

"You sing Rent, Becca," I told her, "I'm a little too old and jaded to do that."

Her mother offered up a concerned, "We are totally freaking you out, aren't we?"

And the truth was, they honestly weren't.  

"I'm a musical theatre actress," I replied, with Becca still gripping my shoulders. "You'd honestly have to try really hard to freak me out."

It sounds odd. I mean. There I am, innocent with pretty hair, going to the farmer's market on a Saturday afternoon and suddenly, an entire subway car full of people is staring at me while Becca from Seattle alternately screams, cries, rips out her hair, latches onto me for dear life and then bursts into "WITH A THOUSAND SWEET KISSES!!!!!" from a hit Broadway show.

I chatted with the family a little bit more while Becca changed her mind and wanted to know if I could sing some Hairspray with her. I had to get off at the next stop and told Becca to just keep singing showtunes to make it through her crisis, I mean how do people think I get to work every day!? I get on the elevator and then suddenly I'm Patti Lupone until I get off at the 9th floor where I revert back to myself, younger and thinner than Patti but without the fierce belt.

There really isn't a good way to sum up this story. I'm not sure what I learned from my experience with Becca and the train and the fact that it didn't freak me out to have a stranger clinging to me and singing in my ear in public. (In private, well, that's another story.) I suppose I will say what I always said in acting class when I didn't know what to say: that I grew as an artist and as a person and that I'm so much better for having gone through it.

I don't know about Becca though.  It was a long way down to the ferry and honestly, I hope she knew a lot of Jonathan Larson lyrics to make it through.