I experience rush hour daily now. I wake up early, board crowded trains and fill my head with questions. How do people have the focus to read on the train? I’m always trying to characterize the people near me. If you close your eyes, might you miss your stop? If you’re listening to an iPod, what if you don’t hear directions from the conductor? And what about all those riders who like to stand around not holding the rails? I think they try to impress people with their balance (or lack thereof).

Today the weather was nice, and my walk to my train home was pleasant. A gaggle of business men dressed in black coats and black shoes took to Park Avenue at precisely 6 o’clock. I realized all the money is in men’s wear–make a bunch of tailored black wool coats and you’ll always sell.

Monday evening an e-mail from my friend Philip (the blogger at Oberon’s Grove) popped in my box. “Would you like to see ‘Prodigal Son’ again?” he wrote. I immediately tossed all of my evening plans out the window and agreed to meet him around 7 p.m. outside of State Theater. I’d seen the ballet on Sunday afternoon, and it was worth seeing it again.

My afternoon yesterday (Tuesday) was spent pouring over old issues of dance magazines. I stopped briefly at Starbucks for a coffee–a stranger blew me a kiss through the glass window (so many weirdos in New York). But like any day that I go to the ballet, I was constantly checking my watch.

After meeting Philip we waited in the lobby and he picked up his tickets. We were given the best seats in the whole house: front and center of the orchestra. Before curtain we whispered gossip about dancers, and I eavesdropped on the critic sitting two seats away who was writing on assignment for Ballet Review.

The show opened with Balanchine’s “Square Dance.” Megan Fairchild and Nikolaj Hubbe were the leads again. I adore Hubbe and think he’s embodies the perfect Balanchine dancer. In his pensive variation I noticed his exaggerated second position arms, and rounded hands perfectly done the Balanchine style.

When the lights went up after Hubbe’s curtain calls, Philip and I looked at each other.

“So sad.”

“Depressing.” We said simultaneously about his upcoming departure from City Ballet.

“Prodigal Son” followed intermission, and being so close to the stage made the performance more special. Just like Sunday, when Daniel Ulbricht jumped for the first time the audience gasped. I found last nights performance a little more touching. I began to fidget to keep from crying. After curtain calls I turned and Philip had tears falling down his face.

We went to the Promenade to people watch, but both of us felt so heavy and emotional after “Prodigal Son.” The final piece after intermission was “Four Seasons.” One of my favorites, Sterling Hyltin, was in “Winter” but I wished she was in another season so that she could stay on stage longer. I was extremely impressed by Ashley Bouder, she is such a star in every way imaginable. I know I mentioned him when I wrote about Sunday’s performance, but Antonio Carmena is a new favorite. The other male dancers were so-so last night.

After the show Philip and I left out the set of doors that all the dancers exit through (I kept my eyes peeled). Then I thanked Philip profusely for the tickets and hailed a cab home.

A woman shushes a man behind her.

“But nothings happened yet,” he says, waving his hand to the stage where the conductor has just taken the podium in the pit.

“It’s rude,” she says over her shoulder.

“B___h” he says loud enough for the other rows to hear him.

Just your average night at the ballet folks.  Despite that little argument before “Russian Seasons” at City Ballet, I had a phenomenal time. I wrote about the dancing and the dancers in an additional post that you can read here and am devoting this post to all the extraneous detail.

The world premiere of Bigonzetti’s “Oltremere”would be my first time viewing a premiere of a ballet. I spent the whole afternoon on the West Side strolling the streets, flipping through dance books at the library and popping in Starbucks for pre-show coffee. I kept impatiently glancing at the time.

Since my ticket was a gift from a friend, I would be sitting in the orchestra. The section is normally too expensive for me, so I’m always in the fourth ring (read: nosebleeds with a view). As soon as I arrived at State Theatre and sat down, I realized how much I’d missed at other performances because of the distance. It’s going to be heck having to view Daniel’s “Prodigal Son” debut from the fourth ring. Total downgrade.

During intermission I met up with Tonya and Philip, who also wrote impressive reviews of the evening (viewable here  and here ) Crossing the promenade Tonya and I and spotted Times critic Alistair Macaulay.

After the show, Tonya and I went to Starbucks for a post-show chat. I fell into bed at 2 a.m.

If you didn’t catch it in my previous post: I love Bigonzetti’s “Oltremere.” All evening I recalled my Facebook friends who, after seeing “Cloverfield” changed their Facebook status to “Go see Cloverfield.” I wanted to change mine to “Go see Oltremere.”

While returning from the Lincoln Center Library for the Performing Arts, I spotted a camera crew setting up lights and a tripod to film State Theater! I wonder what, or who, they’re filming?

There sure is a lot of dance TV shows and films coming soon…

On TV:

- MTV premiere’s “America’s Best Dance Crew” soon, according to their ultra-cool point-of-view advertisements. I haven’t found much on their site about the show, but the blogger at “Blogging ‘So You Think You Can Dance” made a pretty informative post about it that you can read here.

- MTV also has premiered a new internet site which will most likely be developed into a TV show called “Dances from Da Hood” where you can learn dances online via videos, and then post your own videos for a chance to be on TV. Brilliant! That’s very similar to the You Tube ballet idea I posted about previously.

- MTV (again) is also casting for a show they call “Dance Justice,” where you settle issues on the dance floor.

- And then there’s “Dance Wars” which should be called “Song and Dance Wars.”

In film:

- The sequel to “Step Up” titled “Step Up 2: In the Streets” opens Feb. 14th.

- A new film about a step dancer called  “How She Move”  premieres Jan. 28th. This film was already nominated for an award at the Sundance Film Fest.

- And of course there’s “Center Stage 2″ !

Last batch of photos from the ones I took last Tuesday at Mobile Ballet’s rehearsal for “The Nutcracker!” Everyday I re-flip through the shots and always find a new favorite. Here are a few that were hampered by the blur (I’m still mastering shutter speeds) but that I still like. There are also a few of my little sister Dione!

Cute little waltz girls! I used to be one of them.

“Nutcracker” Billy Blanken and Marina Yasuda have a brief chat on stage.

My sister Dione and Billy Blanken–on stage husband and wife.

Dione in “Pary Scene.”

Shannon Kendall in “Arabian.”

ABT’s Blaine Hoven and Caroline Frey as the Snow Prince and Snow Queen.

Blaine and Caroline again. Blurry, but I like it.

I love collaborations,and when the Mobile Opera and Mobile Ballet teamed up for a spring 2003 performance of Carl Orff’s “Carmina Burana” it was heavenly. Here’s a photo I snapped at their first dress rehearsal.

October is the month in which decadence, beauty and the arts collide. In Mobile the month brings 21 days of perfect weather (some argue 15, but I’m an optimist). In October all of Mobile’s major arts organizations put on productions, and each weekend turns into an extraordinary celebration filled with post-show late night dinners, intermission gossip, standing ovations and green room photographs with costumed vocalists, dancers, and musicians. At least for me.

My first October of magic was in 2003. That year I discovered opera with Puccini’s “Turandot.” Hearing “Nessun Dorma” orchestrated live for the first time made me cry. It was also the time that I frequented the symphony, began my study of violin, and wrote my first articles for the campus paper. It seems like so long ago, but it was a wonderful month. My family and I spent every evening downtown taking in some show, and never made it home until after midnight, sweeping through the front door in couture, laughing about what had just conspired at dessert, or the cast party, or perhaps just backstage.

All of that is unofficial tradition now. The inaugural event was just last night, at MSO’s “Halloween Pops.” As I approached Saenger Theatre last night, the weather was perfect and the Saenger marquis glimmering. I reminded myself that this is a celebration so I put my chin up, smile on, and prepared myself for the beginning of a great next three weeks.

I fumble at celebrations and gatherings. I don’t like attending them, but enjoy their excitement. I hardly know enough people in town that the idea of doing something with anyone is attractive. My birthday (which nears) is always a mess: a fancy dinner where last minute reservations have been made. The evening proceeds as every Friday night does–conversation and steak with the family. Last year, we went to Café 615, and the same thing happened. I did receive lovely gifts: lots of Tchaikovsky recordings to add to my collection.

In my day dream world, my birthday parties are like photos out of NY Social Diary or Park Avenue Peerage, lots of swanky looking people holding glasses of champagne in newly bought party frocks from Saks. My sister somehow pulls off great parties each year, no party frocks, but lots of hip looking people. I’d never be able to beat her party this year: she rented out the VIP lounge at a local restaurant for an affair that began at 8 and ended after midnight.

This year, like I do every year, I said to myself, “I’m going to have a big bash!” But those aims were quickly murdered, as I recalled that all of my friends now live elsewhere. Including one of my best, who moved to New Orleans to attend Loyola as a vocal performance major (she’ll be famous soprano some day). Now I have no one to invite! And more importantly, who will go to the opera with me now!?

Being busy is no excuse for my lack of posts. I’ll be honest and admit that I really hate this blog. I hate my posts, I hate my phrasing. I can’t seem to keep readers, and think back to the good-old-days before July with my old blog that I actually liked to read.

When the arts events in Mobile pick up, hopefully so will the posts. In the meantime, I’m going to keep plugging along at this tepid pace and blog about whatever until a ray of hope appears.