Just in Time

Thud, thud, thud.

Was that her feet hitting the pavement, or was it the sound of her heart pounding in her ears? The streets were growing darker, her breath was becoming more ragged, and the time was ticking away. . .ticking. . .ticking. . . (Image of a ticking clock; music of impending doom.)

Seven minutes. Six minutes. She reached 10th avenue and started moving downtown.

Thud, thud, thud.

Her feet quickened their pace. Only five minutes remained, and she was still several streets away from safety. ("In a strange way, I'm almost enjoying this," she thought to herself. "If I were always motivated to run by a rush of adrenaline, exercise might actually be fun. . .")

Two minutes. One.

And finally she'd made it. Or had she? (Sound of heavy breathing.)

Frantically, she rang the buzzer on the door, praying for a response. At first, she heard nothing. Her thoughts begin spiraling wildly. But after a few seconds came a comforting click, and she was, at last, safely inside the building. The woman at the front desk watched her enter. "You are just in time," she said. "We've been waiting for you."

(Dramatic cliffhanger ending.)

*****

Was that:

A. A sequence from an action movie?

B. An excerpt from a bad detective novel?

C. The preview for a new television series?

The answer is actually: D. None of the above. That was a true account of what happened to me as I was returning home to the CM Residence after Shakespeare in the Park, trying to make curfew and hoping I wouldn't have to sleep on the dark streets of NYC. Luckily, I got there before the nuns locked the doors for the night. As the nun sitting watch at the front desk pointed out, I was just in time.

"Just in time" seems to be a phrase and a concept that I've been encountering a lot these days. Earlier that morning, for example, I'd lost track of time and made it to my internship with only seconds to spare. Afterwards, I ran to Times Square to meet a couple of girls (Jessica-from-Utah and Lena-from-Russia) for sightseeing. . .and because they were both late, I made it just before they arrived.

The three of us stopped by Grand Central Station and toured the public library where I saw Charlotte Bronte's writing table, an original Beethoven manuscript (thrilling!), a draft of the Declaration of Independence, and a first edition of Phyllis Wheatley's poems on display, among other treasures. ("I wonder what museums will look like in a hundred years?" I found myself wondering. Possible exhibit: "This is the original computer used by Erica Glenn to write her First Symphony. It is a 2010 Macbook Pro--sleek and gray and exactly like the millions of other Macbook Pros produced that year." I smiled a little at the idea, but my smile disappeared when I saw a glass case which actually CONTAINED a Macbook. "New York Times Website," said the title card. Oh boy.) The child in me was most thrilled by the second exhibit we saw at the library: all the original Winnie-the-Pooh stuffed animals on display in the Children's Room.

Two hours later, I found out that I'd won free tickets to Shakespeare in the Park through the virtual ticketing lottery, and I had to go all the way to 81st street to pick up my ticket before they released it for standby. I made it to the Delacourte Theater just in time. Then I had to get back to the CM Residence for dinner, and I reached the cafeteria about two minutes before they stopped serving food. After that, I made the trek back to Central Park for the actual show. Did I get there before the performance started? Of course I did! I was just in time--8:00 on the dot.

The show--Shakespeare's Measure for Measure--was outstanding. I think that some of the performers were movie actors--maybe even famous ones!--but I'm not really up on my film celebrities. The hands-down standout performance was given by Danai Gurira (does she sound familiar to anybody?) who played Isabella, a novice nun who tries to reconcile principles of mercy and justice while remaining true to herself. I had a third-row seat, and her performance was so deeply-felt that I could see the tears streaming down her face at several points. I was riveted. I couldn't pull myself away at 10:30, even though I knew I needed about 40 minutes to get home and that curfew was 11:30. 10:45 came and the show still wasn't over. I didn't leave. The thing finally ended at 11:00 signaling my amazing race homeward! As you already know, I made it back just in time.

The next day was Charles' Strouse's 83rd birthday. In honor of the occasion, I wrote him a silly little song which you can listen to HERE. As I was recording the demo, two girls from across the hall knocked on my door. I thought they were going to tell me to keep down the volume--I can get very exuberant when I'm recording with earphones in!--but instead, they told me that they loved the song and wanted to hang out sometime. I think this is the first time practicing loudly has scored me friends instead of enemies! In Ukraine when I was warming up for a performance, one of our downstairs neighbors banged loudly on our door and asked if someone inside was in pain. . .

There was a free concert in Central Park later that evening featuring Yo-Yo Ma and Bobby McFerrin. . .and I didn't go. Surprised? I was too! I'd really burned myself out the day before, so I opted for a relaxing evening in. My life had become a little too. . .насыщенная. (Sorry--there's not a word that fits as well in English! This one means something along the lines of "full to overflowing.") Насыщенная is a good thing. . .

. . .but it can also be a pretty stressful thing! I need to remind myself that I don't have to run around in tourist mode--that I actually live here now and have three whole months to take in New York. Sometimes it's nice to simplify--to not have to worry about arriving everywhere just on time, panting hard and listening to action music in the background.

And now I've finished this entry. . .just in time to go to bed. :-)

(I have an interview for a part-time job tomorrow. Wish me sound sleep and lots of luck!)