The very first time I came to Chicago was during auditions for graduate school, February of 2000. I stayed with my good friend Courtney and after I finished “working” during the day, we would party at night and she would show me the finer parts of city living. When I ultimately didn’t make it into the conservatory of my choice, I called Court and told her I was thinking of moving to Chitown. Why not? I was too scared to move to NYC (although that was always a huge dream of mine after spending the previous summer there) and thought that maybe a “second city” would be good for me. I’d have the competition and experience of a big city, but on a smaller scale. And so, about a month after I graduated from Baylor, I shipped all of my plays and acting books, checked six suitcases and got on a plane. I will never forget the look on my father’s face, pressing a $100 bill in my hands as he fought back tears. He was not thrilled about the idea, but Mom, God bless her, told him that I “needed to go”. Now, thinking about my own children leaving the nest is enough to bring me to my knees.Court met me at the airport and we cabbed to Lincoln Park – 522 W. Surf, to be exact. A large studio apartment that I originally planned on living in for a month or so until I found a job, apartment, etc…but ended up sleeping in the same bed with C and not leaving until 10 months later, when we found a two bedroom that we could both make our home. Yes, we slept in the same bed. And it was in the kitchen. And when it was really cold outside, it was pretty darn cold in the kitchen…so yeah, we slept with gloves on. No lie.