Friday, June 04, 2010

The Concrete Jungle, Dreams, and a New State of Mind


"My biggest influences are strong creative women that charter their own path, lead their own lives, and charter the course of history.” Rachel Roy


It’s past three o’clock in the morning. My sister and friend are both passed out, and I am sitting in my hotel room marveling at the day I had. So, I got to meet my favorite actress (Kate Walsh) and I FINALLY made it to NYC.

“They’re waiting outside because she’s famous. . .” I heard a lady say as I waited –camera in hand--outside The Atlantic Theater Company. Had I traveled to New York City to meet someone famous? Did I drag my friend and sister to a play that they had no interest in because I simply wanted to meet a celebrity? I spent eight summers throughout high school and college working in theater. Many of my favorite childhood actors and actresses did summer stock at the theater, and I never clamored for an autograph or a picture because that was never and has never been me. Why had I come to New York? Quite simply, something had changed, and ironically I owe a little of it to Twitter. The past months I’ve been reading about people living their lives, pursuing their dreams, and it hit me like a ton of bricks---Live life, don’t be afraid, and if there’s something you want--- go after it.

A self-professed scaredy-cat of just about everything (planes, dogs, cats, highways), I have always envied people who take risks, go after their dreams, and stay true to their convictions even when it’s difficult. Today and the past few months have been all about doing something new, taking risks, and doing what I want do. So much of my life has been about playing it safe, doing the rational thing, and not stepping outside of the box. To make a long story short, my admiration for Shonda Rhimes, her character Addison Montgomery, and inevitably my admiration for Kate Walsh, the actress, had brought me to this incredible night. So, slowly, but surely I’ve been making a conscious effort to go after the things I want in life. I no longer want to be on the sidelines watching people “do”.

Kate Walsh is an amazing actress--plain and simple, but I--and thousands of other people --okay, call us what we are, fans or Walshies-- have discovered she's an amazing person (or rather, her persona appears to be that unique blend of confidence, intellect, down to earthness, and more importantly for me, fearless in her pursuit of her dreams). I loved her on Grey’s and her work Private Practice this season has blown me away. Her ability to convey emotions with just a simple glance is amazing. She’s an artist with a natural ability. In actuality—she was the reason I even joined Twitter. Her tweets had confirmed what I already knew. She’s amazingly talented, smart, funny, and humble. Not everyone rocks killer outfits and shoes, possesses a quick wit, uses words like pontificate and behemoth effortlessly, and tweets about toe fungus. Kate Walsh does—and that makes her a rarity among stars. Earlier this year I said that it would be great if I ever got a chance to see her on stage, but knew that with her grueling schedule of taping a tv show, the opportunity to see her would be in the distant future. When I heard she’d be on stage, I decided that I had to go. It was a chance of a lifetime and I was not going to miss it.

As I approached the theater, I thought I’d be more nervous, but I was not. It was a pretty building— the doors are painted bright red and white. It looked like an old warehouse. I learned later that the theater is in the middle of a meat packing district. Oddly, I don't know what I expected. The red and white building, with open windows, and horizontal white blinds gives outsiders a small glimpse of the inside. Kate Walsh was in the building, I thought to myself, and I was a mere hour away from seeing her in person. I knew I was about to experience something amazing.

We arrived early to pick up our tickets and to take pictures outside. We picked up our tickets and decided to walk around the neighborhood until the theater opened. As we walked, my sister and friend began to smell the infamous New York City air—a mixture of sewage and late evening musk . As they gagged, I walked, all smiles, around the city. I hadn't noticed the smell, because my mind was filled with thoughts about the play, Kate, and the ultimate question of whether or not I’d be able to see her in person.

My hopes of trying to get a picture were crushed by an earlier tweet from Kate: On the taxi ride to the theater I saw that she apologized to fans for not getting the chance to meet her. I wondered if that meant she wouldn’t be meeting people that night. I quickly texted my fellow KW supporters for their advice. I was disappointed and began to prepare myself mentally that I may not have the opportunity to see her after the play.

When we walked back, we were the first at the theater. As we waited, I took pictures of the marquee to calm my nerves. We were a good thirty minutes before the show. I wanted to go in, get my seat, and just take it all in. Was I really in the same building as my favorite actress? As I walked up the steps my mind went all ‘crazy fan thoughts’ (I am walking up the same steps Kate Walsh uses, I am in the same building as Kate Walsh, in thirty minutes I am going to see Kate Walsh in person).

I glanced at the various black and white pictures on the wall. Some I recognized (the girl from Glee, and William H. Macy –the Atlantic’s co-founder), most I did not, but my mind was squarely on Kate Walsh. Upon entering the surprisingly small theater, we were told to turn off our cell phones. How I wanted to tweet or FB “I am in fucking the theater!!!” but alas I turned off my phone. The lights went dim and I went in half-expecting Addison Montgomery, but two minutes into the play , I was watching Molly. Yes, it was Kate Wash: tall, pretty, Addison voice, and her infamous red hair, but the character was vastly different from Addison Montgomery.

Without giving away the plot—Kate was everything and more. Molly is less stylish and less confident than Addison Montgomery, and Kate’s work in conveying her flaws is superb. Even my sister and friend—who didn’t like the play as much as I did, praised her acting. After the play my friend was tired. She, herself a KW fan was worn out and had forgone the idea of getting a picture. I thought about my friends at IAOPP (International Addicts of Private Practice) and the many people who didn’t have the opportunity to see the play, and stayed. I—and others waited for the chance opportunity of seeing Kate in person. My friend had given me her playbook and I was on a mission to get an autograph for me and my friend, but I couldn’t find a pen.

I HAD flown hundreds of miles and drove up three states to get an autograph and I DIDN’T HAVE A FREAKIN PEN. I panicked. I had changed into my new Fendi bag in an effort to look ultra chic, yet I did not think to add a pen. My friend finally found an ink pen, but everyone else had MARKERS to write on the glossy playbill. I decided it didn’t matter, somehow I’d get an autograph. I immediately spotted her as she walked down the stars and outside. I half expected a huge smile and the signature red hair down, but her hair was pulled back and she looked very serious and tired. I hear people say this all the time, but Kate Walsh was absolutely stunning in person. Her skin was flawless and she didn't look a day over 25. I expected her to be pretty, but even with her hair pulled back and minimal make up--she was gorgeous.

Kate walked straight out the door, then produced her "Addison" smirk as if to say, “Here I am." Two girls to the left of me immediately flashed a camera in her face and asked for a picture. While she declined because she said she was sweaty, she graciously stated she would sign autographs. Again, I am not aggressive in those type of situations, and I didn’t know how to give her my book. My sister, like a parent watching their child in a sporting event, stood on the sidelines encouraging me. When everyone around me was getting autographs, I started to lose faith. I glanced at my sister, eyes big, and feeling a little defeated. She shouted "Nicole!!" and gave me the “Girl you didn’t drag me hundreds of miles to New York City--GET YOUR AUTOGRAPH" look and pointed to Kate. I handed Kate two playbills-but could not make eye contact. She was busy signing autographs, and I—who has always been described by anyone who knows me as a talker---could only utter three words: "You were amazing." I thought I whispered it, but she heard me and said a very gracious "Thaaank you." I wanted to say more--to share what a true inspiration she has been to me, but couldn't. So, I “met” Kate Walsh, and I use the term broadly.

All and all it was an amazing night. Sometimes people describe events like this as being surreal. It was not. I was in the moment, feeling the excitement, joy, and happiness. I began the evening wanting to see and meet Kate Walsh, but amazingly I had met the new "me" in the concrete jungle of NYC. I was a do-er, I was Ellen Nicole: Dream seeker, confident, and possessing a new state of mind.