Is this real life?

Last weekend I had the time of my life in New York City and all I could think was, “Is this real life?” Needless to say, I was feeling like the luckiest girl in the world.

            My best friend from college, Chelsea, is currently on co-op in New York City working for a fashion public relations firm and living her dream.

            She lives in Brooklyn just blocks from the Brooklyn Bridge, which we walked across, works in SoHo and attended New York Fashion Week.

            I’ve been to New York City twice before this trip, but this time felt different. The first trip was with my parents and best friends. We were the ultimate tourists. The second trip was a short look at colleges. But this time I was with someone who knows the city fairly well.

            Chelsea knew how to navigate the confusing subway system and where to take me. But it felt very strange walking a huge, gigantic city all by ourselves without our parents. It felt exhilarating.

            Before I even left for the city, I knew I wanted to see a Broadway show. Musicals are my guilty pleasure and I knew I couldn’t go to the one place in the world where all the best shows live and thrive and not go inside a theater.

            So Chelsea and I decided we would enter the Broadway lottery, a wonderful system that most shows participate in, where anyone who wants to see a show puts their name into a big barrel two hours before performance time. Then names are drawn and highly discounted tickets are sold to the winners.

            I thought we would have to enter for all three shows that weekend and still not win. But the Broadway gods were looking down on us.

            We arrived at the Eugene O’Neill Theater on 49^th Street and Times Square at 11:15 a.m. to enter for the 2 p.m. matinee show. We stood in line, chatted with some locals and at 11:30 put our names on two little cards. We kissed the cards for good luck and added them to a pile of probably 300 others. There were 22 tickets up for grabs, and you can enter your name for 1 or 2 tickets.

            Name after name was called. All the front row tickets went, but the box seats with obstructed view were still left. Then all of a sudden the name “Chelsea Addy” was called out. Chelsea and I both screamed and jumped up and down.

            We had won tickets to “Book of Mormon” the Tony award winner of best musical, written by Colorado natives Matt Stone and Trey Parker, the creators of South Park, and a show that is sold out until it closes next year. The best part, they only cost $32 each, originally $155.

            It was a dream come true for a Broadway nerd like me and an excitement junkie like Chelsea. I hope to never let go of the euphoria I felt the moment we won.

            The show lived up to and exceeded all my expectations. The singing, dancing, acting, jokes and humor were spot on.

            The weekend was also filled with great eating, sight seeing and lots of picture taking, but nothing beat that Saturday afternoon.

            The rest of the weekend Chelsea and I took turns saying, “I still can’t believe we won.” I am sure I had a smile on my face from Friday night when I first saw the city lights to Monday afternoon when I left.

            So is this real life? I’m happy to admit that it was and is. 

The theater for "Book of Mormon" 

My seat next to the stage

Chelsea and I enjoying breakfast at Tiffany's

What I've learned so far

I have been on co-op for six weeks now. Looking at the calendar, I can’t believe it’s already been six weeks, on the other hand, that means I have 20 weeks to go. Here’s to hoping it will fly by.

Anyway, I’ve learned a lot in the past six weeks both in and out of the office.

    My day to day duties are pretty light and only take up about half my day sometimes, so I have a lot of extra time to myself. Of course I’ve fallen prey to the temptation of Twitter and my newest obsession, Pinterest, a social networking site that allows you to “pin” pictures to a virtual board. I’ve never been on Facebook; that is the one thing I won’t allow myself to do. So, you might ask, how do I fill an 8 hour day with only 4-5 hours of actual work?

     I read. I read the newspaper, I read Boston.com and I read stories I find on Twitter. I see this as a way to learn. When I leave at the end of the day, my thoughts are swirling around in my head in the prose of a very well-written journalist. I’ve found that reading is going to make me a better writer. 

    Reading is the foundation we build all other learning on, especially writing. If we couldn’t read, we certainly wouldn’t know what we were writing. Reading and translating a foreign language is always easier than trying to speak it or write it.

   So I’m going back to basics at my job. I’m reading. I’m reading everything from news to business to arts and entertainment. And while the comics are probably still my favorite part of the newspaper, I’ve found a new appreciation for the briefs and articles that stain my fingers with newsprint every day.

I look forward to the hour I reserve for myself at the end of everyday where I can spread The Globe across my desk and read the day’s top headlines.

   In addition to my reading of the newspaper aiding my education as a young journalist, the paper has made me a more educated individual. I think back to high school and even middle school when writing an essay was painful because I could always come up with a claim, but finding the evidence to back it up was the true challenge. Nowadays, I can back up most conversations I have with something I read in The Globe.

   The Globe is an excellent newspaper. I’m not just saying that because I work for them. It is a well run business with many functioning parts. They employ over 1,000 people from the cafeteria workers to the return room guys who sort papers to the payroll people to the reporters. It is a well-oiled machine as I see it from my perspective at the bottom. A machine I am proud to be a part of it, even if my role is small.

So inside the office, I’m learning what it means to work 40 hours a week, be a part of a true business environment and to sharpen my skills as a journalist if not just a well-informed member of society. 

   Outside of the office, I’m learning what it means to be an independent adult. Sort of.

   I am still a college student, highly dependent on my parents financially and emotionally. But in the past month, I’ve come to appreciate myself.

   My time in college has been a bit like a revolving door of chaos that just keeps going around and around. I was stuck in the doors never able to stop outside and breathe in the fresh air, or get into the building and begin what I set out to do. It was always something: friend drama, a difficult assignment, housing problems, more friend drama. I was losing myself, I could feel it.

   But my best friend here moved to New York City for co-op, my roommate drifted away, my best friend from home is over 3,000 miles away and my Boston friends are the kinds of friends you eat lunch with, not really the kind of friends I want to burden with invitations.

   I was worried coming back in January that I would be a solitary homebody. And, in fact, I am. But what I’ve always known deep down is that I’m happy about it.

   I like being alone. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy company. I like eating with friends at lunch and seeing some friends on the weekends, but I don’t mind being alone. I am grateful for this attribute because I think a lot of people find loneliness debilitating. I find it liberating. Just because I’m alone, doesn’t mean I’m lonely. I also don’t feel alone on a college campus and with constant connection with my parents and best friends through email, Skype, calls and texts. I’m an introvert and I certainly have a comfort zone I don’t like leaving. But I’m learning to appreciate the nights I can do whatever I want without anyone judging me or waiting on me.

   I’m learning to live my life as I want to. I’m slowly learning to be myself again.