I don't know how I get in to these places. People kept asking me if I was an actress and I would have maybe made something up so I didn't just sound like me but I generally always have my mouth full and didn't have the opportunity. There was braised tofu & grilled vegetables and some particularly good stinky cheese, among other things.
Anyway, I went to a party where people had to keep leaving because they had an audition in New York in the morning. Or they were just in New York for 18 hours for a rehearsal. Or whatever. And because I don't actually get out much I have really no idea who these people are. They are theater people and they were nice to me and so I like them.
It was a housewarming party and it was a really really fun house to be warming. The rooms were sort of... well I didn't actually count the walls so let's just say they were faceted. My father was an architect so I have license to make up architectural terms willy-nilly. The living room had a cathedral ceiling and now that I type "cathedral" I realize that it felt similar to being in the apse of a church. Except there was no organ music on the play list. The play list was put together by their teenage daughter - who had gone to one of those art & music summer camps and was therefore an Interesting Teenager able to produce a playlist that made you want to jot down the band names.
The house was full of very very interesting people who I had no idea existed before tonight. I especially enjoyed talking to the dramaturg. What the heck is a dramaturg? He is also the literary manager and because I like literary things I liked him immediately. As far as I can tell, he researches the details of plays so that the details are accurate within the sets and so forth. And he does the program notes. Which I should think makes him incredibly smart. I think just having a title that most people have never used in a sentence makes you very smart and somewhat enigmatic.
Now here's the "small world" part. This was a house warming, right? So they must have moved out of another house, right? And what are the odds that I have actually been invited to the old house by the new owners and gone to dinner there? Answer: Very good.
It occurs to me that it takes a certain kind of person to inhabit houses like these - houses that resemble a genie bottle or an oversized tree house or an apse. They are apparently known as "niche" houses (and we would love to live in one, if in fact we don't already). It seems we are collecting friends who live in niche houses. Perhaps we will turn them into a coffee table book some day.