When I came back to San Diego after graduating from college, I didn’t really know anyone. All my friends either went back to their respective hometowns, graduate school or started new lives in new cities. There was so much uncertainty for me in 2017; when I would finally land a job, where it would be, where I would live, and who my friends would be. The only thing I knew for sure was that I wanted to perform again. Musical theatre has been a great love of mine since I was a child and something I never had time to do in college.

The first thing I did when I moved back home was audition for Star Theatre’s production of Addams Family Musical in Oceanside. I still remember walking into the audition room, intimidated by the seasoned musical theatre actors who had been doing youth theatre since they were five. I didn’t know anyone, so with my jittery legs and overactive brain brimming with expectation, I sat to myself and listened to Wednesday Adams’ songs, the character I was aiming to book (I didn’t get her and ended up in the ensemble, still a fun experience!). I spent the year auditioning and auditioning, convinced that I lacked talent every time I was rejected, but there was a voice in my head that said “keep going”.

Fast forward over 2 years, and 7 theatre productions later, I built a network of friends in the theatre, dance and music world in San Diego. Every time I walk into an audition room, I see at least 2-3 familiar faces to put my audition jitters at ease.

Theaters run on ticket sales, concessions, and donations. A show requires thousands of dollars to fund set design, costumes, talent, accompaniment, sound, and lighting, not to mention, it requires over 100s of hours of rehearsal time to make the lighting cues, music, movement, and storytelling look and sound seamless. The brunt of the time and money lost is not just bored by high-end equity theaters that host Broadway shows. It’s small, local community theaters that have shown some of the rawest pieces I have seen, that get destroyed by state-wide shutdowns.

I’m going to take you on a post-quarantine journey through my day that starts in a town called Del Mar, and ends in a warm, welcoming, yet rambunctious little theatre in Ocean Beach, my home away from home. It’s a place that revitalized my passion for musical theatre, and gave me a sense of community in San Diego, again.

I’m driving over to Philz Coffee in Del Mar to meet up with the gals. I stand in line and waffle between buying the mojito iced coffee and the “Tesora” before finally deciding on the Tesora. Philz Coffee was part of the “third wave of the coffee movement” and is the go-to morning coffee stop for Silicon Valley-ers, with its roots in San Francisco. Known for its unique marriage of modern dessert and cocktail flavors with freshly brewed coffee beans, Philz Coffee almost never disappoints. The Tesora is described as “smooth, with vanilla notes”, the slight bitterness of the medium blend invites itself onto the tongue only to be gracefully interrupted by buttery hints of vanilla. The gals and I, which include a few old co-workers and a best friend I made from an Eventbrite yoga meetup, would sip and catch up. I might get a croissant or rich, crunchy baklava to complement the creamy coffee.

Adjacent to Del Mar Highlands is a newly built mall called One Paseo, filled with pretty much all the millennial favorites: ShakeShack, SoulCycle, Sephora, and Blue Bottle Coffee, mixed with local boutiques with unique names like VandeVort and Whiskey and Leather.

It’s time for a trip to our favorite store: Pigment

Pigment is a local San Diego shop founded by a husband and wife duo whose passion for local art flourished into a one-stop shop for local and internationally made crafts and goods. One thing I find unique about the store is that its inventory is organized by color, consisting mostly of pastels, with sprinkles of bold jewel tones. Pigment is the kind of store where you can walk out with a cute handbag, a candle, a cookbook, a potted plant, a handmade coffee mug, some crystals, and cannabis lip balm all in one store visit. I love seeing all the different takes on relatively ordinary things in our lives: a planner, scrunchies, and jewelry. They’re all handmade by individuals, influenced by their respective cultures and backgrounds. I walk around, resisting the temptation to buy the somewhat overpriced candles and pots, but I leave with a small succulent, two crystals, probably a small amethyst and a larger citrine (my favorite crystals), and then that book on astrology that I was always too embarrassed to buy.

We take a sharp right from Pigment to my favorite bakery: SusieCakes. This is not a day for me to hold back on eating whatever I want. I’m coming back to my favorite food places with an intense foodie fervor. I’ve been deprived for too long! Usually, I get a slice of the “old-fashioned chocolate” cake or a peanut butter cupcake, but this time, I’m trying something different. I go for the “sweetheart sandwich”, a confetti cookie with a heart carved inside sandwiched with a sweet vanilla buttercream frosting.

Ugh, I’m salivating just writing this.

SusieCakes was my last company's first “marketing team field trip”. It was a small post-work hangout our co-worker arranged that also started at Pigment and ended with cake. I still remember that day, the bakers had a cake that had ended its “store shelf life” and they gave it to us for free, which of course, we scarfed down as a team the ensuing week.

It’s safe to say that SusieCakes has some “sweet” memories!

Last year in May, my friend encouraged me to audition with him for the musical “American Idiot” at a theatre called OB (Ocean Beach) Playhouse, which for weeks, I flat-out rejected. A punk rock musical didn’t seem like my scene at all, and the raunchy subject matter was too jarring for my conservative-raised self, who still to this day hasn’t had a stage kiss! But, my friend adequately convinced me that I would be “the perfect Extraordinary Girl”, one of the supporting characters. After a few years of rejection in theatre, I somehow managed to convince the director with my audition and was cast as Extraordinary Girl, much to my surprise. Little did I know that this show and this cast would change my theatre experiences for the better. Never in my 2.5 years of performing have I been a part of such a tight-knit cast. It’s still the most active group chat, almost 8 months later.

During "Jesus of Suburbia". OB Playhouse, Facebook.

Unfortunately, OB Playhouse’s latest production, Into The Woods, was canceled due to COVID-19, but I know as soon as the stages are lit again, they’re going to showcase this Sondheim masterpiece.

The evening is going to kickstart with the “OB Idiots” reunion at The Joint, a corner restaurant in Ocean Beach just footsteps away from the theatre with some bomb tapas and good pre-show libations. It’s one of those restaurants that doesn’t exactly know what they are but is completely comfortable with it. You can get sushi and sake, but you can also get mac and cheese, or tacos! The Joint and Shanghai Bun were two pre-rehearsal dinner favorites, but we don’t want to run late and miss out on the front-row seats. I mean, it’s the prime opportunity to embarrass our friends in the production with the ultimate fan poster signs in the front seat. Since I don’t want to get too full before the show, I’m (possibly) sharing a basket of truffle fries (or just having it all to myself hehe) with miso soup. Truffle fries above anything else. I think I get instantly transported to a different planet when I eat truffle fries. Crunchy AND buttery AND creamy? Sign me up every time.

The thing about OB Playhouse is that it isn’t just a theatre, it’s like a little family. That’s when I realized the best types of shows are the ones where even months after the show is over, you still want to hang out with your old cast and crew. You support your old cast mates in productions at other theaters with big neon signs. You cheer them on when they book those dream roles.

The best theatre comes from a well-connected cast and crew. When the musicians, actors, music directors, producers, and tech crew are all bonded, it makes the rehearsal process a harmonious team effort. No drama, no one-upmanship, just art.

After the show is over and we give the directors and theatre owners a much anticipated tight hug, we head over to Mignon Pho, where our friend works, for some more food and drinks at a friendly discount (thanks, Kev).

I’m personally ordering some Shrimp Pho with a Pinot Grigio to balance out gaining fluids with the fluids I’m losing from the alcohol. Mignon Pho is a Vietnamese restaurant in Kearny Mesa, the heart of San Diego’s military town where the Marine and air force base resides. It also happens to be where some of the most delicious Asian restaurants are. Along with authentic Vietnamese dishes, the menu is sprinkled with Vietnamese flavor-inspired sides like the mouth-watering lemongrass garlic fries I scarfed up one afternoon.

After dinner is the part of the night when maybe the introverted ones will head home and sleep off their full tummies. I’m usually one of those people--but I’ve been cooped up for months. I’m down to let loose and rally to Flicks in Hillcrest for some karaoke and a Jameson Ginger. Flicks is a small gay bar downtown where you can add your favorite songs to their playlist, dance away the night, or participate in some good old-fashioned karaoke.

Last time I was at karaoke, I sang At Last by Etta James, but I think this time, I’m going with a Beyonce song, Halo. I’ve been practicing the riff during quarantine and I might give it a show to my friends, who will still cheer me on no matter how bad I screech. Of course, we're going to shout and cheer like nobody's business when each one of our friends gets on the mic, because that's what supportive friends do.

The night might end at around 12:30, or 1:00 AM, who knows. We're not going to set a curfew. Yes, this is a day I made up in my head, but it's a day I plan to have when the world reopens again. I don't know when that will be, but I know I'll be ready for it.