Ordinary Days

J: Does this go on?

All the way to number one.

J: The cover story in this magazine. I threw it in the trash.

And I said, go retrieve it! Nine of those things are things are things you've never seen! "Number ten: Eat a bagel"

J: Or say something more?

And carries you away...

J: The zoo!

And that giraffe!

J: Broadway shows.

Botanic gardens. A tour of city hall.

The cab was pointed squarely down Broadway; I know you're concerned, but your cousin's on Broadway so why have we turned?

Darling, I know my cousin's on Broadway, but there was lots of traffic on Broadway.

J: then, one at a time they make you climb so high into the air. And as I go up it's hard not to throw up but I'm trying.

Every week we pick a number and for our way on down the list.

J: SHUT UP CLAIRE, AND MARRY ME!

FINE!! ... What?

Surely, but now, in my own defense we're farther away, which doesn't make sense.

Fine, driver, please stop here, if you would. I think walking will do us both some good.

Fine, I'll bring the red, you bring the white; that way, I'll still get drunk, you'll still be right.

Fine.

Fine.

Fine.

Fine.

Fine. And then there was the cab.

(( BOTH: ))

Fine. We don't say anything as we're walking down Broadway. It's like I'm walking next to a stranger. I've had that feeling more and more, like I don't even know him.

J: My brother made it himself.

Good thing your brother doesn't live here.

J: I'm allergic to the French, you know.

He makes a face. I sign us both up anyway.

D: AHHHH (and exits)

He wanted to come here. He loves it, I know. Look, he's running ahead like a kid in a toy store, and me, I'm here watching him go. He likes the Masters while I prefer wackier things. So of course we wind up in separate wings. I should go find him, not leave him alone. But, I don't know, lately when he's right beside me I'd rather be off on my own. I mean, maybe I'm crazy. But, I don't know, lately when he's right beside me I'd rather be off on my own. I mean, maybe I'm crazy. But really, I think he'll be fine if he goes his own way and I just go mine.

I grabbed my favorite cabernet.

He's got no clue, and so I say: Darling, the wine.

J: Hello.

Hello. (beat.) Ready to go?

J: Which is wanting to put life on pause. So, Jesus, Claire... What now?

Hey, it's Claire! I'm ready of the party. I know, I'm late. But God, I swear, you live so far downtown! What was that? Well, yes, of course, he's coming to the party. I don't know. He's back at home. Still. Maybe coming down with something. No, for Chrissakes, I'm not lying. No, my God, I've not been crying.... Will you excuse me for a minute?

J: Oh, come on! A childhood memento. Let's put it there on the shelf.

How 'bout the back of the pantry?

J: Hey. Let me be your tour guide this time. I know exactly where to find number eleven.

I'm trying.

J: But honey, look: I'm trying.

In my head, I draw a map that shows the whole entire city. I put a mental pushpin at the places where we laugh. Like number four, that fancy store...

J: Honey. What is all this old junk? Do you really need it?

It's just things I want to hold on to.

J: Answer me! D: I promise, later, Warren.

It's not my fault that it is raining, is it?

.....J: You can't just leave me in the rain and hope that things will wash away, Claire. ...... W: Then soon?

It's not my fault that it is raining...

Monet.

Manet.

J: She's got a knack for flipping over omelets. She becomes the teacher's pet.

Meanwhile, he's got yolk stuck in his egg whites and he's getting quite upset.

The wine. We were shopping for a bottle to bring to her cousin's soiree.

My cousin, the sous-chef, she's very gourmet.

Honey, you know I don't like the Riesling. When have you ever seen me drink Riesling?

Never, but can't you listen this once? Red wine and fish? You'll look like a dunce.

Except for her...

No crowds...

J: I just want to see her...

No walls... no bikes... no buildings in my way...

J: Claire, stop... D: Yes, I do, I'm late for my appointment.

Not now...

Ma'am, take a work of art with you today!

Not today, thanks.

J: There wasn't one we missed.

Number three describes some cooking classes at the Institute Francais.

J: Of red, falling. Blue, falling. Orange and yellow and green... ((overlap with him))

Of red and gold and brown and crimson... blue and violet, pink and amber... orange, emerald, yellow, white and green churning like a cloud...

J: Let's take today. Just unpack. We'll both be given more space once everything is in its place.

Oh my God. Jason.

J: The salesman who ignored us.

Or number two...

J: Where are you going, Claire? W: You don't have to go...

Please don't...

(Music 10: Saturday at the Met) J: Hey, come on, let's go! We've got a whole museum to visit. We should probably pick up on the pace.

Jason, we are at the Met. The thing that makes it special is it takes awhile to wander through the place.

J: ... What isn't there is Claire. I wish she'd look at this painting...

Look at this painting...

D/W: Everywhere...

Seeing them there...

It dots her hair like morning dew. Suddenly, I start to think of the day that I first met her. A bucket of snow had landed in her hair...... But how can she know? How can she know?

Shit! Ow! My shoe. My shoe! My shoe! Dammit! This is really fantastic. No, really absurd. And what, you just stand there and don't say a word? Fine. I'm gonna go, we're late for my cousin. God help the soul who's late for my cousin. You can stay put here out in the rain, but don't leave it up to me to explain. Give me the wine, don't take all day. FINE, then! Bring it yourself. Your cabernet, Jesus!

J: I am not upset, I'm simply letting breakfast stir my soul.

So, he can't cook.

W: A flyer?

Some space...

J: Or maybe those trees?

Still keeping you warm...

W: Deb! (Music 21: Gotta Get Out)

Taxi! Taxi! TAXI! Thank you. Hi. I'm not usually inclined to take up useless conversations with a taxi driver. But I saw as I was walking all these taxis without passengers in constant circulation without a destination. And that's not what life should be about, so we're gonna get out, cross a bridge, take a road to another state. We'll sit back, through the noise and the traffic and wait for some kind of scenery change. Wait till the view from our windows is strange. Trust me, I'm not crazy. I can see you making faces in the rear view mirror. I will pay you what the meter says, just drive me up the highway, I don't care how far the way is. I guess what I'm trying to say is: in the bike lane of life, sometimes you've gotta get out. What? Weren't you listening? I don't know where to. You're the professional, you should be making these kinds of decisions. I am really not a person who is qualified to tell you where we should be going. I mean, I just left my boyfriend standing back there on the sidewalk, which is bad enough without disclosing he was actually proposing. That's it- there isn't any doubt that I've gotta get out. Hit the gas, make a turn, let this taxi speed. Cause there isn't a thing in the world that I need more than someplace my head can be clear. probably miles and miles from here. I don't mean to freak and I don't mean to shout, but right now, God! I've really gotta get out. I can't stay here anymore. I just gotta get out. Though I still don't really know what I am getting gout for. I should be near him and Christ, feel happy. But it's like something's changed inside of my D.N.A. I just want to tell him that I'm lost and that I'm frightened but something's there that smothers all the words I want to say. So how can I e what makes him happy when I can't even make a promise that I will stay? I've gotten used to keeping all this space between us. And when he looks right at me... I just want to run away. So I gotta get out. Yes, the only thing to do is to get myself out and accept the fact we're through. We won't get that far staying where we are. Oh my God. Stop the car. I gotta get out.

D: Excuse me. Is that a Monet?

That's a Manet.

The cab.

The cab. Was stuck in traffic in the middle of Broadway, ten minutes we wait.

Honey, the cab...

The cab?

J: I love the rain. How everything shimmers.

The wind's picking up, we've got no umbrella.

(Start of Fine) It started with the wine...

The wine.

The wine?

The wine. They're serving monkfish, so darling, the wine can't be red. How 'bout this Austrian Riesling instead?

J: She grabs my hand and suddenly we're at the pier.

They've got a tent set up right by the river. The whole circus thing. Who knew? You go in a classroom for an hour and they show you what to do.

Turn left and zoom to the suits of armor.

This says that x-rays show an entire other portrait on the canvas below. Isn't that weird? How it just... disappeared?

J: What is it?

This. You kept this?

J: Is she moved by that column?

Those orangey yellows...

J: Number eight insists we go to Brooklyn.

To see where they make beer!

J: Number seven calls for...

Trapeze lessons!

D/W: Fly! Look at them fly high above us. Oh...

Tumbling past windows and through the air

(( I'm Trying Intro ))

Um, what is this?

J: Claire... (I'll be here!!!!)

We met, of all places, in front of Gristedes some freakishly cold winter's day. I had on several unflattering layers of wool; he slipped on the ice with his grocery bags full. So I rescued some Fruit Loops he'd dropped by the curb and he made some remark that my smile was superb. I thought that was sweet, and I started to go, when he said, "Hey, whatcha doin tomorrow? Because I'll be here at the corner of Bleecker and Mercer tomorrow at seven. If you want to meet up, I'll be waiting right here and in case there are two fellas waiting for you, My name's John... he waved and then he was gone. needless to say, I went back there to meet him, mostly to see if he'd show and there he was, out in the cold with his jacket pulled tight. he took me to dinner and kissed me goodnight, The next week we went to this terrible play, and the week after that drank hot chocolate all day. and suddenly, eight or nine months had flown by, when he said, "hey whatcha doin the rest of your life?" because I'll be here, right beside you as long as you want me to be, there's no question. there is nothing I've wanted so much in my life. This might sound immature, but I'm totally sure you're the one! and we had just begun...we got hitched in September, our favorite month with a rock band that played in this old synagogue. and we bought an apartment on west 17th street and talked about children and getting a dog. our first anniversary came in a flash and we promised to take the day off. he had to stop in to his office that morning, and so I went walking uptown to this bakery I know when I heard on the street what I thought was a joke, till I noticed the sirens and saw all the smoke so I'm running back home with this feeling of dread to the voice mail he'd left with the last words he said. I'm sorry, I don't mean to ruin your evening by bringing up all of this stuff. you're probably wondering why I even called you tonight. Well, today something happened that spooked me all right: I saw this storm cloud of papers fall down from the sky, and I thought of that day, and I started to cry. When as sure as I breathe, I heard John, clear as day, saying hey you're allowed to move on, it's okay. because I'll be here even if you decide to get rid of my favorite sweater even if you go out on my birthday this year stead of sitting at home letting all of life's moments pass by. you don't have to cry... because I'll be here when you start going back to the places were went to together. when you take off my ring and you let yourself smile. when you meet someone handsome and patient and true when he says that he wants to be married to you when you call him one night and he meets you downtown and you finally answer him Yes. Yes. Jason, I will marry you I will give you my heart. It has taken so long, but I'm ready to start. Right now, John's whispering congrats in my ear cause I've finally let myself tell you that I will be here.

(( BOTH: ))

We'll be fine... Fine... Fine... And then it starts to rain. (Just Claire now:) My hair starts to drip. My shoes are a mess. My bag's getting wet, and so is my dress.

J: Hey, do you think we can clean out some of the stuff from your closet?

What stuff? Didn't we make room for all of your things? Look, your drafting table fits perfectly over there.

J: ... And that's what I've been doing just to be with her... So I don't understand what I'm supposed to do now.

Why are there so many people in my way?

J: Would it change your perspective from the moment before?

Why did we come here? I'll never know. It's like the colors in this painting might get lost if he came in to say, "Hello..."

J: Would you just listen? Don't you want to... Jesus, Claire!

(( Exit ))

Oh. Ready. Let's go.

(( Exit ))

J: Dancing on the wind all on its own.

(BOTH) But it is not alone. There's a swarm... A storm...

W/D: Get set... Fly!

(Both) We look up into the sky at the pages that keep falling like a blanket spreading out high above us. Oh...

But wait- Hey, mister!

(Claire enters)

J: Of course I did.

"Top Ten Things to Do in New York Before You Leave It."

J: That's the one I've done.

"Number nine: Root for the Mets."

Let Things Go

How does this happen: All your life You think the space you've got Is not enough. But then you open your closet door and think, "My life must be more than the sum of this stuff." Something moves you from within, like, say, your boyfriend moving in, and that's how you begin to let things go. You look up at that shelf and you tell yourself to let things go. And next thing you know... You are standing amidst your whole entire history and you're strewing it across the floor. You've got out-of-date planners and dog-eared postcards, and think, "What in God's name was I keeping these for?" Packed in boxes just in case, But now I really need the space. So I'm gonna clean this place and let things go. I'm determined to clear out some room in here and let things go. I'm letting it go... all of these years and years of junk and flotsam. Plastic souvenirs? Why, look, I've got some. Birthday cards, a pamphlet on Van Gogh. I should've done this years ago. But somehow I've been petrified to see what's been kept inside these chests and drawers. It's so very strange finding stuff from a lifetime ago even when the life you find is yours. Cause there are things that make you feel that you need this proof your past was real. And you can't let them go. So back into boxes they go. Oh, how does this happen? You tear up your apartment just to put it back together again. Jason you will be fine, we'll get creative with our space so that all of our things fit together, and then my whole life can stay in there. Though he's got to put his shoes somewhere. Ugh! Why can't I be some other Claire who can just let things go? I mean, I said I would try, and I did, but I can't let things go. You know Martha Stewart? I'm not her. I'm gonna let things go back where they were.

J: Would she tell me she hates it?

How everything shimmers red...

J: Describe what she sees...

How it swallows you up like a storm...

(((EVERYONE))):

I can see...

J: Left my key. It had been days and where was she?

I couldn't call or even show. I thought it would be best to let him go.

J: I don't want to be a person who is always standing still.

I don't understand these people, always standing still.

We're twelve blocks away and we're already late.

I point out there'd be no delay if we would just turn that-a-way.

J: It was fun, you know, to see the city. I would do it all again. But that was, what, almost a year ago? And all those places... well, we haven't been since then.

I remember when we finally got finished. The number one thing to do. I hadn't been to Central Park in ages, so I'm soaking up the view. We're just standing still, the city's silhouette against the sky... and I think, "why can't this moment last instead of slipping into the past?" I want to keep that moment with me all of the time. And heaven knows that I'm...

D: Look at them tumbling...

I stop and stare

J: Oh, come on. Old birthday cards? Ticket stubs? I've never seen you wear this sweater.

I want to keep it. Okay?

(( BOTH ))

I was stopping at the corner feeling tense and all shook up. Then for no good reason, I look up.

W: Why am I always standing still?

I wish that I could make the people disappear...

But right now it's cold, and we're still in a hurry...

I'm not gonna stop, and I'm not gonna worry...

J: This says to skip this room...

shhhhh / (shush him)