I've ditched mass for the second consecutive weekend, in order to go gallavanting in New York City with friends. I hope God is not too angry. To make up for it, I've replaced the missed trips to communion (holy body and blood = bread and wine) with Nila wafers and Amaretto Sours. While not entirely the same, my heart and spirit were in it, therefore I assume I am scott-free.

Last Sunday was Hannah's Birthday celebration. The Prestige, Toys R Us, Indian food, crazy rain, along with crazier friends made it a day to remember. This past Sunday was Tamara's turn. And not to put down the fabulous time I had with Hannah, but honestly, nothing really beats Front-Row Orchestra seats to The Color Purple, except the delicious sushi that followed the performance.



I cried after the first musical number, overwhelmed by my proximity to the stage (an arm's reach away!) and the soul-infusing music. The Color Purple, in my opinion, an opninion which is based on absolutely nothing except pure ear to brain judgement, has one of the best scores I've ever heard. Well, next to The Little Mermaid, The Sound of Music, and RENT. I mean, I think good music and good lyrics should be a given for every Broadway musical, but challenge me on that because I'm a naive little theatre-goer. The characters were so well developed: from the three gossiping women who provided the comical outlet for the audience, to the strong, bold, and awe-inspiring Sofia, and ofcourse, to Celie, the heroine you cried for and loved from the moment the curtain parted.

I read The Color Purple way back in high school, after watching the movie. One of the reasons I applied to/attended Sarah Lawrence was because I knew Alice Walker wrote the novel as a first-year student there. Part of me wanted to follow those footsteps. It's still a dream in the making, but after seeing the show on Broadway, I'm more motivated and inspired than ever to write, write, write.

I think I cried mostly because the words spoken/sang really reverberated. I'm trying to get out of the ego-filled habit in which I apply everything I read and see to my minute life, but honestly, Celie's search for strength and love reflected my own inner search for strength after parting with H in February. At least I was wearing waterproof mascara. What luck!

Lines that set off the waterworks:

Any man who hurts you aint worth a dime!

But you hush my mouth and still me
With a song I've never heard
I guess that means that you are just
Too beautiful for words

What about trust?
What about tenderness?
I want you to be
A story for me
That I can believe in forever

And the whole song: I'm Here

And if you're not sold on the notion that I really loved The Color Purple, I'm watching it again this weekend with my mom. -=o)



I haven't been brought to tears like this in a while. I must admit that I was quite embarassed for being all red-faced and teary-eyed at the end of the show when all the actors took their bows. I'm sure they were all questioning why that little Asian chick on the front row was crying, when the play ended on such an uplifting note. I think they'd be happy to know that I cried because I was moved to tears, by the story, by the music, by the words, by their performances! Oh and by all the sexy male performers, which is why I'm undoubtedly going black! And you know what they say about that.

Unfortunately, I think my crying was the reason why I failed to make eye contact with all the black hotties on stage. On Saturday, I'll work on batting those lashes. Although having my mom sitting next to me, probably won't win me flirt points. In the meantime I'd just like to direct this note to all sexy black men out there: Umm, I have quite a fatty. LOL.

Dinner at Japanese East was the cherry for the night. Mel had recommended some awesome restaurants, but they've never been to JE, so I thought I'd play it safe and go to a place from which I'd already tasted the excellent Philadelphia rolls. Happy Birthday to Tamara, my wonderful college roomie who is also the best friend I made in college! Broadway outing again with her in January to see either RENT or Avenue Q.



Gosh. I love life. I'm so grateful to be here. And if you knew me as a high school drama queen depressive, you wouldn't expect those words to come out of my mouth. But there they are, rolling off my tongue, carefree as wind in air.

There was also some hot fudge that night. Dwayne Wade was in Times Square. Well not him, but a huge huge huge photo of him, which already gives me high blood pressure. I can just imagine the heart attack I'll have when I see him in the flesh.