Lucky Last Day

If I hark back to August of last year, when I was about to leave Osaka, I remember being about to leave, about to go back to the hotel and sleep, when Emma and I chanced upon some friendly people and we had an amazing evening. Some people I met I still have contact with. This was August 11th (and 12th) 2005. Today being August 3rd (and 4th), I somehow recreated that luck and had another comparable, magical evening, that has been a perfect end.

I entered the lottery for Rent, as I always did, and then I walked to 34th Street, so I could see the Empire State Building. When I got there, I walked back quickly, in case they called my name. After a few names, I got used to not hearing my name, and felt like I should go home early. Then I heard him say my name, and I was ecstatic., I started shaking with happiness and anticipation. It was amazing. Someone asked if anyone had an spare tickets (like I had wanted to do the previous days), and I said I did. I'm not sure if those were the rules or not, but it was ok. When you enter the cheap ticket lottery, you put down whether you want one or two tickets. I always put down one, but it seemed that almost all winners put down that they wanted two. So I did this time. It worked.

This girl gave me money and I bought her a ticket as well, and then I went for my usual coffee, finding I only had $12 to spend, I had water. I made that quick entry, and then made my way to the McDonalds to attempt to draw money, which worked, and then bought a pretzel from a street vendor. Then I went and queued and made my way into the Nederlander theatre.

I sat next to the girl I bought the ticket for, in the very front row, at the very furthest left of the central seat block. It was an excellent seat. I love the front row. She told me of her previous theatre trips, how she'd just been in London and seen lots of shows there, how this was the third time she'd seen Rent here, and was a very colourful and interesting person. Then the show started, and I was blown away by a very powerful performance.



Most of you will be at least partially familiar with the idea behind Rent. Urban Bohemia in New York, struggles with AIDS and addiction, and trying to make that one beautiful thing in your life before your time is up. The writer, Jonathan Larson, worked on the project for ten years, and died as it opened. The tragic story is deepened by the show's brilliance, and I found the whole show to be a discovery of sadness, and while a lot of the issues don't translate directly into my life, there isn't much that isn't relevant to being alive.

After the show, my new friend and her friends took me to go and meet the cast, where I had my programme signed by all the main cast members, the people who played Benny, Mark, Maureen, Roger and Joanne. The guy who played Roger, Tim Howar, enquired about my accent and chatted with me for a while about London, as he'd been living there recently. He was a nice guy. I also made a brief video which will start my video blogging, which could take off, or could be awful. With 5 signatures on my now wonderfully sentimental programme, we all made our way towards the Subway, where I headed Downtown and they headed Uptown, both headed for Brooklyn.



I walked around the streets near Henny's place, very happy. The evening had come together, and I realised then that it wasn't just the evening. The holiday had come together, everything had worked out ok. It hadn't been too expensive, it hadn't been too troublesome, and while it had its stresses, everything was worthwhile.

Lightning flashes signaled a tropical storm, which brought a holiday from the heat, which signaled the end of my time in America. It was a ramshackle holiday that barely held together, and brought about a lot of self reflection and joy, as well as some beautiful revelations. Who am I right now? I can't ever know properly, but I know where I am in my life. And right now, I am happy. I have lived America, and there were times I wanted to leave early, there were times I didn't want to go. Now is neither, I know that I have done what I needed to do, I have reached the perfect level. I know where I am, I know what to do, and I have a better idea of what truly makes me happy.

I came here to do that. I'm done.