Fare thee well

11 years on this street that I’ve loved, coming home for one last night. Fare thee well, old chum..jpg

I listened to the "Making Oprah" podcast last summer, which marks the 30th anniversary of the launch of the Oprah Winfrey Show. In one episode, the host, Jenn White, asks Oprah if she had been scared to leave everything she knew behind when she first moved to Chicago to start the show. And Oprah, being Oprah™, gives her a wise and simple answer: "Everybody knows that there's a time that comes in your life when where you are is no longer where you're supposed to be."

Oprah, man. When I heard that, I had to sit down on a bench and think about it for a while. I'm not sure everybody does know this. But you're lucky if you do, if you can hear that voice and are able to follow it. I worked hard, sure, but I've been lucky every step of the way.

On New York: I loved living here until I didn't. That's not a crime, or a mistake, it's just the way life works. In the words of my best hero: "I chose, and my world was shaken. So what? The choice may have been mistaken, the choosing was not. You have to move on."

So New York: stay cool. I will visit often. I will not miss your subways or figuring out how to get from A to B and back again on the weekends when my station was always closed. Pull it together already. People need to be places.

xoxoxo, kg

What we remember

We're having a snow day at work—l-i-t-e-r-a-l-l-y—and I'm tired of packing & thinking about leaving so I'll just post links to some of my important thoughts on the theater I've seen during my 11 years here and will remember dearly forever & always. THANK YOU FOR TAKING MY MONEY & GIVING ME RICHES, NEW YORK CITY! Thanks for making it worth the dream.

Liza's at the Palace!

Adding Machine - Minetta Lane

Follies - Encores!

Ruined at MTC

Eugene Onegin - Met

La Rondine - Met

The Mystery of Edwin Drood at Studio 54

A Small Fire at Playwrights Horizons

Dear Elizabeth at Women's Project Theater

Jacques Brel Is Alive and Well and Living in Paris - Zipper Factory

God of Carnage @ the Jacobs

In the Next Room (or the vibrator play)

One of many (so many!) Betty Buckleys

Sunday in the Park with George at the Hudson

Passion at Classic Stage Company

Another Sondheim celebration

Sondheim: the birthday concert

And of course one to rule them all: Mary Stuart at the Broadhurst

What we keep

Let us never forget why I moved to New York.jpg

I wanted to toss these but can't do it. I firmly believe in not clinging to physical items for purely sentimental reasons but my heart is here, in all of them. My favorite times in this city, with my friends, are in the memories printed on these tickets.

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Welcome to New York

I came to New York City alone, to live, 11 years ago today. I knew two people here. I had a four-month sublet in an apartment I shared with two graduate students on 89th St. just off Broadway. The man who owned it lived in LA during the winter and for some reason had all the windows boarded up, so it looked like a cave inside a dungeon buried in a basement, but I loved it. It was New York City! I was living the dream!

It was about 50 degrees the day I arrived, and foggy and humid. The first thing I did was walk to the Food Emporium around the corner to buy milk and cereal. I needed to feel like I was home.

I went for a long walk on New Year's Day—this is the first picture I took, with my Canon PowerShot A710, of the reservoir in Central Park. I didn't know how familiar it would be to me one day, how many times I would circle it on a run, how many miles of sweat I would leave behind me.


And this, on Fifth Avenue:


And this on Sixth Avenue, which I now pass every day on my way to work:


And this, which I work right next to:


I've learned a lot since that day—mostly for the better, although I remain naive about many worldly things. And it's been grand, you know? It really has. But I'm ready to say goodbye.

Pipes of peace

Enjoy these photos from yesterday's Pipes of Peace celebration, an annual event centered around bagpipes, a drum corps, a foxy Scottish reader, a Presbyterian church on Madison Avenue, cocktails at the Carlyle, and dinner at Bistro Chat Noir. Too many cocktails, maybe. But zero regrets.

My favorite exchange of the day, re plans for Christmas:

Byrne to Sarah: "Are you going home?"

Sarah: "No, I'm going to Star Wars."