Kaetlin Perna
March 2, 2007

I learned how to walk in heels on Dyckman St, last night. Wearing my roommate, Becca's, blue knit Capri pants from Anthropologie, black knit tights, black long sleeve, and three inch heels, I was on my way to see Miranda July; writer, director, and performance artist: my idol. Things We Don't Undertand and Definitely Are Not Going To Talk About is running at The Kitchen (19th St between 10th and 11th) through March 1st - 4th, all tickets were sold out, and I somehow managed to get tickets to see her. I was going to wear a flowy skirt, maybe my dirty, purple uggs... but no, something told me that tonight I would become a woman.

I was running late to the show after Sarah, my roommate (mentioned in previous columns), kept going on about this artist who's exhibit was in Denver and start giving me the ole lecture in abstract impressionism and Maryland, who knows... Anyhow, I stumble down Dyckman in heels being it the first time I wore these particular shoes out of the house. I reach the A (-hole) train; my feet are already sore and it's 30 minutes before I reach 8th Ave at 16th, only to run to 10th Ave at 19th! By the time I got there, I was one of the last people to sit.

I was sitting in the front row, forced by The Kitchen's usher, "this seat isn't taken," she said. The people behind me are star struck; I just want to be her; there is a solemn boy sitting next to me with white shoes. I was delirious from the sleepless nights back in the city, so when she came on center stage, I froze. July's stage presence had a quiet intensity that gave way to the emotionality of the piece she presented. She brought the audience in from whatever was distracting them: work, school, social life, the city, the taxi ride, just moving to New York finally (me), or maybe sore feet from a long day, and allowed us to enter her thought-provoking and quirky world.

Unlike any dog and pony theatre show that you can find on Broadway, July's show was carefree, fun and interactive. You didn't feel like you were being judged in anyway, you were either one of the three audience-performers, or you were of one in an audience. There was no reason to guess why anyone was here other than being a fan (or a super fan that was in the performance who knew facts from when he saw her Q and A): this was new to me. The story's conscious spoken from an orphaned cat's point of view with simplicity of love; a non-complicated version of love that only humans aren't capable of it because they screw it up with their drama.

I'm considerably non-sexual since I moved here. It's a very sexual town and doesn't seem like the place for July's message, although it should. If we live our life following our hearts to what we know is right and not what feels good in the moment, maybe we all would be happy. I feel like I did a little growing, and I'm not talking about what made my calves sore today. If you are willing to go standby for an hour, I'm sure you will get in with a few cancellations, it's definitely worth it.