Last night the internet was down, so Ian and I each made a phone call to the front desk. After about the 4th or 5th ring, the call connected with a gravelly voice saying, Security.
Friday, March 13, 2009
Oh--can you please connect me to the front desk? I asked, thinking I must have dialed the wrong number.
Speaking, he answered, almost before I could get my request out.
Oh. I guess that's one way to kill two birds with one stone.
I told him our internet was down, hoping that since he was trained in both security and manning the front desk, this multi-faceted-tool of a man would know just what to do.
I'll put in a request to maintenance and they can check on it tomorrow.
Okay, I say, while thinking, So much for the multi-faceted-tool of a man getting things done around here.
Or at least the things I want done.
And so Ian and I were forced to simply talk last night, which wasn't so bad considering he is a very interesting individual with opinions on most matters. We did, however, agree that we would choose to live in a cardboard box with a fantastic internet connection over a fancy hotel with a single blue ethernet cable that does not even work.
Hopefully we will never actually be tested on this choice.
So yesterday was a day that had been looming in my mind for a while, since it was full of commitments. It started with actually waking up to an alarm, which is usually just reserved for matinee days or early flights.
* Now, for all of you so easily confused because I have mentioned manatees on this site before, please note that I said I wake up to an alarm on matinee days. Though, to be fair, your confusion could be warranted since the day I visited the manatees had me waking up to an alarm as well...
But I went and taught a master class in the morning at Results Gym. It was filled mostly with men, which was surprising since the last one I taught was all women.
These people came from all different backgrounds; some had dance training, some had none but a ton of enthusiasm to make up for it. It was a joy to teach them, truly.
What was not a joy, was that since Fox news was taping the whole thing, I had to get wired into a mic. I was wearing my jazz pants that tend to be a little loose around the waist band which was exactly where they clipped the huge dinosaur of a mic pack onto me. I kept being afraid that it would fall down, taking my pants--and therefore my dignity--with it and course the whole thing would be kindly documented by Fox news.
It didn't happen. I did end up holding it up--along with my pants--a lot, though, which probably looked pretty awkward but I assure you looked much much better than the alternative.
Fox news also interviewed me. At the onset of the interview I had to say my name, who I play in ACL, and what I was doing there. As soon as they started taping, of course my face started itching and so I reached up to scratch it...
Um, apparently they don't want to interview people who look like they have horrible skin rashes.
I don't know why.
The Fox news lady was like, Ah, don't do that. And so they started again. Luckily I had only said about two sentences so it wasn't that much of an annoyance.
But note to self: do not scratch anything when being interviewed on the news.
I think this is a good rule of thumb.
The rest of the interview went smoothly, and the master class was a joy.
Then I went to play a benefit concert for Habitat for Humanity and it was such a special time. The man who hosted it is the owner of Results Gym here in DC and his house is amazing.
You walk in on this glass floor that makes one question whether they should be walking there at all, but since there is no other way in, you continue with trepidation. There is a koi pond underneath the glass with a waterfall as a backsplash. There is a heated pool on one of his many outdoor porches and an old fashioned elevator, complete with a super-hero costume inside, to lift the guests who don't feel like taking the stairs.
I don't think I have ever been inside a house like that before.
Oh, and there was a gorgeous grand piano in the spacious living room, which is what I got to play.
And let me tell you, I certainly didn't mind it at all.
Clyde, another cast member who writes music, and I were both asked to play two of our original songs. He went first on his guitar, and I went next on the piano. The audience was so attentive---they were poised and listening like we were telling them a secret that they didn't want to miss.
It was a fantastic experience; the only thing that made me sad is that we had to leave as soon as we played since we needed to get to the theater for work. The bright side of that, however, was that a police escort had been arranged to take us to the stage door, so as to make sure we wouldn't get stuck in DC traffic.
He had his lights flashing, we were going through red lights, and cars were moving out of our way--all to get some actors to the National Theater on time.
It was fantastic, and a little bit funny, I must say.