Many the Miles.

Today is my one year anniversary.

Exactly one year ago today, I was awkwardly stumbling my way through my first day at California Shakespeare Theatre. I was picked up by Daunielle and (slowly) whisked through traffic to the office. I got the grand tour (which lasted all of five minutes) and was thrown into rehearsal for Pericles. The first thing Scott every asked me was "have you ever been on book before?" Clearly, I had, so I began work right away. I still remember the scene. It was the top of Act III, prologue into scene one. Gower spoke of a sea-tossed ship and threw a pole to Pericles, who was flanked by two sailors also carrying poles. There were thunderous sound effects and, despite the torn jeans and baggy sweatshirts, I was completely entranced. I was officially hooked.

I often say that Cal Shakes was the best thing I ever did for myself. I know it's only been a year, but I still believe it. Dropping pretty much everything and moving across the country was a big kick in the ass for me. It terrified me, so obviously I had to do it. I find the things that scare me the most are usually the best for me. This was no exception.

There is nothing that can beat those people, those shows, that environment. From vaccumming those fucking runners to typing line notes at 4 AM, I loved every second of it. Late nights around the patio table by the dressing rooms and nearly setting my apartment on fire at 2 in the morning on multiple occasions added up to precious moments that I will never forget. I hate using that word: precious. It makes it sound like I'm cheapening this experience to a Hallmark card, but I can't think of another way to describe it. Everything about the summer reaffirmed why I'm doing what I'm doing. It inspired me and moved me and showed me that non-profit theatre can not only survive but flourish in the United States. I am sure that much of my reminiscence sounds like romantic blather and honestly, I could give two shits. It was life changing, so suck it. I loved it so much, this east coast girl is considering moving out there next year. We'll see.

I am eternally grateful to everything and everyone that made California possible for me. I won't be going back this year and I miss everyone desperately. I am confident, however, that life will go on. I'm sure I'm going to love Vermont and, by the time I'm done, NEYT won't know what hit it. All I can do is smile back on last summer and stare this one straight in the face. Believe me, I'm ready.

Hazy Dazy.

I am back in Ithaca. It really hasn't felt like I've been away that long. I won't go so far as to say that it feels like I never left, but it's still odd. You know how sometimes you don't see a close friend for a really long time and you come back and you just pick up from where you left off, no questions, no apprehensions? It's sort of like that. Times 50.

London almost doesn't feel real. It still hasn't really sunken in that I lived in London for nearly four months. I don't really know if I saw that many shows, or functioned in a big city, or never got mugged. It's settling in but right now it's in this hazy place. I don't know how to feel about it.

I am, remarkably, still healthy. RIGHT when I got home I developed viral pink eye. That was my body saying "Kristin, if you don't slow the fuck down I'ma make your eyes juicy." It was unpleasant but it's gone now. The worst part of it was I got treated like a leper. Sad face.

The great traveling continues! I'm moving down to the Farm tonight, back to Sudbury on Thursday and then doing home-type things. Like getting a new computer. That's the big one. I'm so excited.

The Final Countdown.

Yesterday, as I sat on a plane taxi-ing away from Heathrow, I realized something. I hate take offs. I hate leaving. I am so overcome when I can look out my window and see my former home shrinking as I rapidly fly away. The only exception I've ever had to this rule was my 36-hour-12th-Night-Extravaganza in September, and that was only because I was so excited to be going and knew I'd be back in Ithaca soon. My heart ripped right out again when I left San Francisco. I do, however, love landings. Landing is the best feeling in the whole world. It may even be more excited than seeing people at the airport. It's just so euphoric, knowing that it's all right there and watching yourself get closer and closer to home. Yesterday, I nearly peed myself when I saw a baseball field. It's the little things, really.

I made it back to the 'bury in one piece. I was extremely jet-lagged and slightly delusional and really hilarious to the rest of my family. In one sense, London felt like this really long, really bizarre, really amazing dream. On the other hand, it felt like I could go outside, walk for a little while and hop on the tube to go back home to my flat. I'm feeling juxaposed and wierd. I think I'll be able to reflect more when I'm less jetlagged.

I now commense the final leg of my Sherry Party pilgrammage. One layover at LaGuardia stands between me and home. My body's starting to shut down, but I will persever!

Sherry Party '09, here I come!

I suck, I know.

I've been sucking at blogging because I'm LEAVING. In less than 24 hours. When did this happen.

Proper updates will commence when I'm back in the US and have a new computer.

I could be in Ithaca, preparing to dump shit on naked freshman.

I could be in Sudbury, teasing my little brother and hanging out with Andrew.

I could be in California, frolicking with my wives in the sunshine (I should hope it's sunny now).

But I'm here. In London. And I'm happy about it.

I'm just not looking forward to this hurdle. I hope I have the momentum to make it over.

FML.

I left work over 2 hours ago. I just got home.

I work in Earl's Court. I live in Bayswater. Usually, this takes half an hour if I'm slow. I left get-out/get-in early enough to catch the last tube home. Until the tubes decided to fuck with me.

So I hoped on the last possible train and went to the only place I know how to catch a bus from: Charing Cross Railway Station. This is where you go to googlemaps or whatever and see just how far that is from work and home. It is, however, very close to Heaven, so therefore I know how to get home.

2 buses, 1 half hour wait and a can of pringles later, and I'm home.

Oh, and it's raining.

Oh, and I have to be at work at 10 AM. It's 2 AM now.

This is not a rant about my job. I love my job. This is in no way meant to reflect poorly on my theatre nor is it meant to be taken as me lashing out at my pitiful internship experience. This is me cataloguing an epic FML moment.

(FML stands for "fuck my life," for those who are not up to date with the lingo)

So now I'm going to eat another pringle and go to bed. Then in the morning, I'll get up, go to work and then write papers on my non-existent computer.

Do you sense a theme?

PS - I consider the can of pringles to be the biggest failure of the night. I refuse to eat my feelings.

It's all in the Motherboard.

So, I finally took Lappy to the doctor. The prognosis was not good.

My motherboard is dead. Fried. Kaput. Gone by the wayside.

It's too expensive to fix and I'm computerless. So, no more photos til I get back from London. No more youtube-ing. No more Skype (unless I mooch computers). No more late nights doing nothing and no more obsessive email checking.

I can still use my roommates computers if they'll let me, so I won't be ENTIRELY cut off. I just won't be able to do things like . . . write my art history paper at home. That'll be fun.

It's a gross grey day and this is a total FML moment, but I seem to be taking it all in stride. I think this is going to be OK.

A Quickie Before Stratford.

I depart for Stratford-upon-Avon in 8 hours. But first! This needed to be posted.

I am in love. His name is Jay Brannan and he doesn't know I exist.

In all seriousness, Jay Brannan is an amazingly talented singer/songwriter and actor. I first met him via Shortbus (an excellent movie, by the by) and it was love at first sight. Or rather, first song. In the movie, there's a short scene in which Jay sings a song called "Soda Shop." I immediately looked him up and bought everything he ever recorded.

Jay has released 2 EPs and one full-length album. His debut album, goddamned came out this summer. One of the remarkable things about Jay as an artist is his label. When conventional record labels wouldn't sign him without compromising his art, Jay took the profits from live gigs and EP sales and started a record label, Great Depression Records. He is a one-man operation, just trying to get his music out there. He really is phenomenal and I highly recommend that you, like I, go out and buy everything he's ever recorded. Honestly, he's worth the money and you're supporting a fantastic talent.

Anyway, he's just released a new music video for "Can't Have It All," one of my favorite songs off his album. Please check it out. Also, check out his website. And his blog. I follow his blog so you can find it through here but I'll post the website link below the video.



www.jaybrannan.com

In other news . . .

I have half a liter of Sangria in the fridge, a band-aid on my foot and a backpack full of underwear. It's Stratford time.