100 Things. Re: Moi. Part X: Best Memories

91. Train ride from Lucca, Italy to Nice, France. Drinking wine out of paper cups. Thinking that Boris Godunov--which someone was humming--sounds exactly like the theme from "Indiana Jones." Tucked like crumbs into the cracks of red, velvet train seats. Everyone in their bare feet. Windows-open-fly-by-sky-by-water-by-moon-by--for the whole night. And knowing, in the moment, that someday when I was old and wanting to remember what it was like to be young, that that was the night I'd remember.

92. Moving into my first post-college apartment with Emily. Sitting all day on the street by the green sofa I'd found, which was my treasure, but someone else's trash. Guarding it jealously 'til Emily came home from work. Then, Emily coming home. Contributing her 110 pounds of might (which is to say, not much might, but lots of heart) to The Moving The Sofa To Our Second-Story Apartment Effort. Balancing precariously on the top stair in the hallway of our building, anchoring the green monstrosity with my entire body, sweating and shaking from effort and laughter. Emily fleeing to the street to find aid, and, instead, returning with Not-So-Handy Jeff. Who lived up to his name. But still managed to help these two crazy, snort-laughing girls procure their first real piece of furniture.

93. My first call-back for Rent.

94. Senior night at The Roxy. In the green summer dress my parents had bought me, that looks nothing like a dress you'd think any parents would ever buy. A certain boy. The only slow song of the evening. The sexiest thing I've ever done with my clothes still on.

95. My first couple of weeks driving around the country in a van with six other actors, getting paid to do what I love.

96. 6:20 AM. Sidewalk in Times Square. Cold and waiting for the audition sign-up to start. Cell phone call to Wisconsin. Good morning, Mom. Hi, Papa.

97. A walk I took down Broadway once in college. Post Jacob's Room. Finding myself in the throng of people and traffic lights and street lamps and bodegas. Finding myself.

98. Dear Applicant, We are pleased to offer you a scholarship in the amount of...

99. Pretty much any night I've ever spent that involves Emily and a living room.

100. The letter I found in my suitcase last Friday. Dearest Kathryn.... The kindest letter I have ever read. Love, David

One hundred things. Fucking FINALLY.