one heck of a stage name

Another opening night.

This time in Hyogo.

But by this time, after over 500 performances, we all pretty much know the drill.

Not much changes. Ever.

Oh, except today.

Except my name.

It seems that I have a new stage name here in Japan; one of the local Japanese crew members unwittingly bequeathed it to me, and this one just might stick.

The cast was that thrilled by it.

Anyway, I was wandering into the theater, getting ready for sound check, and I hear, Jessica! You gotta come see this, quick!

I go to where Sterling has motioned me--the board with all of our dressing room assignments on it for the week--and sure enough, this is what all the hubbub is about.
And just like that, I am Jessica Ratshaw.

Only here in Japan would that "L" get mistaken for an "R," changing my name entirely.

This is just too good.

hey, hey we're the monkeys!

The magic of today is hard to even express, really.

But I am going to try, and luckily I have some pictures to aid in the process.

When you hear Monkey Mountain, you have a pretty good idea of what to expect. Namely, a mountain on which there are many many monkeys.

But actually going there? Seeing it? Playing with the monkeys? Feeding them?

Just amazing.

Thrilling.

Transcendent.

We knew we were on the right trail when we came upon this sign,

and I was sure hoping that the monkey with the boxing gloves was hyperbole.

Cause...yikes.

And then we crested the mountain and saw them.
Chilling.
With intelligence in their eyes and fingers that are uncannily human.
Once we were actually with the monkeys, we saw one more rule that we hadn't seen before at the bottom of this sign.
The problem was that since we didn't know exactly what putting a load on outside entailed, it was hard for us to make sure that we weren't doing it. But that didn't stop us from pointing out that we were pretty sure one or the other of us was putting a load on and the person in question had better stop before that monkey put on his boxing gloves and made us all cry uncle.

And the babies, well they pretty much stole my heart.
Especially when one chirped, ran towards me, and wrapped his velvet little self around my ankle and started climbing up my leg.
I am not gonna lie and say that I wasn't somewhat terrified when his mother came towards me and wondered fleetingly if letting a baby monkey wrap his silky arms around your ankle was in fact putting a load on. She got closer and closer and I just froze. We all felt relieved when she simply grabbed her errant baby from my leg and went on her way.

Phew.

And here are some short clips I took of the monkeys...babies playing together, their feeding time outside with us, and when we got to feed them from inside this cage (for our own protection).

If you care to see these adorable little buddies in action, take a look.

And really, my time with the monkeys may have just trumped all that I've done so far in Japan.

karaoke and typhooning

It's true.

What they say about musical theater people and karaoke.

Um, we love it. Can't get enough of it.

And the feel of that microphone gripped between your fingers?

Amazing.

And all that swanky reverb that makes those high notes seem just effortless?

Divine.

Seriously, three of us stepped into the place because you know, we're in Japan and all and still hadn't been to one. We purchased an hour session, which I thought was maybe pushing it, but then...well, then there was the feel of the microphone and the cheesy soundtracks and any old pop song I wanted to sing and all that marshmallowy reverb and the hour went by in what seemed like just a fantastically fun second or two.

And there was something like a perfect moment when, right as we were ending a rousing rendition of Doe a Deer, singing in octaves the last two D0 D0's, there was a third unintentional but gloriously in rhythm beat, a crash! and shatter! as a glass smashed onto the ground.

Sending us into gales of laughter.

And though I am sure the Karaoke bar did not think it was a perfect moment, considering how it left them down a glass and all, the fact that that crazy-good drummer from the Dave Matthews Band himself could not have hit a more perfectly timed crash than the sound of that breaking glass was just too good.

But really, I am not promoting the harm or violence toward any innocent glasses, especially ones that do not actually belong to you.

So keep your glasses safe.

But if one does happen to slip from your grip while singing at a karaoke bar--if you can time it so it crashes right as a surprising button to the song, well then, that's the way I'd recommend it.

Oh. And another thing I'd recommend?

How about while flying your passengers through a typhoon, not showing footage of the havoc that typhoon is wreaking in the same area over which they are flying, for goodness' sake?!

Seriously. We were taking off in the storm and every monitor in the plane was giving us views of trees blowing sideways, rain angrily beating down diagonally, and clouds piling up in the sky.

Um, thanks.

We kind of knew about the not great flying conditions already since our flight was delayed. Twice. And if we still hadn't gotten it by then, we could have just, I don't know, looked out the window. But I guess you just needed to leave no uncertainty in our minds as to how hard our flight could be and so you showed us the typhoon.

On TV.

Pounding the earth.

Ripping the sky in half.

And giving us the ride of our lives.

Nice touch, Japanese Airline, very nice touch indeed.

leaving Tokyo and eating sandwiches

I was supposed to be on the bus right now, en route to a plane that would fly me and the rest of the cast to Hyogo.

And no, I didn't oversleep.

There's this small problem of a typhoon here, causing some delays in our travel plans, so I am sitting tight in my hotel room for another hour. And honestly, I don't mind. Just gives me a little more time to myself this morning and that is something I treasure.

It also gives me more time to finagle plastic bags over my guitar so that it stays dry in this typhoon. I do have a case, but it's a soft case and not waterproof...so yeah.

It also gave me a little bit more time to go get one more sandwich from the best sandwich shop on earth. That's right. I don't know how they do it, really, but I have never tasted something so divine in sandwich form. The owner is an Aussie and can you imagine just moving from your home and even your country to go open up a little sandwich shop on a winding side street in Tokyo?

I think it's easy to get in a rut in terms of how life will go or should go, for that matter. But really, we have freedom. There is possibility. Who says you can't just try something new and have it be a roaring success?

And who says exactly what success looks like?

Is it tons of money piled up in a vault so that you can go swim through it, a la Scrooge MckDuck?

I don't think so; there are lots of people with lots of money who are not happy. Who are owned by it. Who jump out windows when the stock market crashes because, apparently, that's all they had to live for.

Is it the career that you've always wanted?

That could be part of it, but I don't think it's the whole kit and caboodle. Why else would a young man, Jason Raize, star as Simba in The Lion King on Broadway and then tragically end his own life? That makes me think that a dream job is not enough.

Maybe it has a lot more to do with love.

With people.

With God.

Maybe it's doing good honest work, whether it's music or organizing or driving or whatever--but it's working hard, earning some keep, and keeping those you love close by.

Maybe it is opening up a sandwich shop halfway across the world and coming home to someone you love every night.

Maybe it's fill in the blank with whatever your calling is and coming home to someone you love every night.

Or at least, you know, talking to them (for those of us who are currently in Japan or on other such adventures).

So yes. Let's live our lives--wherever that may be--to the fullest.

And tell those we love that we love them.

And show them also.

And continue to eat the best sandwiches. Ever.

At least for today, anyway.

desert rose. or the ramblings of an insomniac.

It's 5 am, or close enough anyway, and I am still awake.

Maddeningly so.

Tossing and turning, like one more flop on this bed is going to land me in sleep.

I am up, thinking of him. Wondering where he is, how he is, what he's thinking right now, and how stupid it is that there is an ocean between us.

An ocean.

Full of fish and lost cities and organisms that somehow thrive in the underwater volcanos and have you heard that there are whole mountain ranges down there?

Really.

Who can keep track of it all?

I have to believe Someone can, someone does.

And that I am involved in that; I am being kept track of, so to speak.

I have been here 3 weeks already and have only one week left to go. But right now, at 5 am, each day of that week stretches before me like the desert itself. Like the desert without a guide. Like the desert without even a pair of sunglasses.

But I've heard of the desert rose, and I am convinced that I will find it; beauty thrives in impossible places, made even more startling by the contrast it makes as it blooms.

playing tokyo

I think I drank my weight in water today.

Two shows and a gig makes for one very tired and thirsty individual, I have realized.

Add to that the emotional aspect of being so far from home and communication with loved ones feeling difficult at best, I think tired might be an understatement.

But, I am grateful to be doing what I am doing; being here in Japan, playing the show, and then getting to play my own music as well.

It's too much.

Too big.

Who would have thought?

And just look at that pretty piano; I loved every minute with it.
And I wish you could really see the size of the room from this pic, but you can't.
I guess the max is supposed to be about 40 people for the place, but I would say there was closer to 60 of us all mashed together, trying not to sweat.

Out of my set, I played one brand new song--the one I wrote here, last week--though I always hesitate to play a brand new song that has yet to be tested before an audience. I like to run them by someone first--someone safe, like Drew or a friend. But I decided to throw caution to the wind, practice this week like crazy, and just do it, like Nike says.

After all, the song is about being in Japan, so what better place to play it than when I am actually in Japan?

It was really really fun. I love playing and singing for people; it truly gives me life and I am blessed that people listen.

The Japanese people were asking for signatures and were taking pictures with me afterwards, too, which I thought was funny. But not nearly as funny as when one of the guys said, Kristine, Kristine! Picture???

I didn't even bother to correct him, either. I just took the picture with a bit bigger of a smile than usual.

Another thing that continues to blow me away is the amount of support that our cast shows every time we play. Seriously, they keep coming out. And it's not lost on me. Today was a two show day, the room was small and hot, and all of us were hungry. And yet, they listened and cheered and continue to tell me that they love it.

They are truly amazing.

And now to the business of going to bed.

And though it will not make me any money, per se, I think I am going to like this business a lot.

I don't think we're in Kansas anymore.

So some of the things that are lost in translation over here I just find hilarious.

Like tonight while a friend and I were looking through a rack of rompers I saw that the tag of a certain grey romper read: gley.

Ha. I smiled and moved on.

But then I saw something that was just too good to not document. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I am a staunch Eagles fan; where I live, it's right up there with your religion. You're Catholic and you're an Eagles fan. Or you're Jewish and you're an Eagles fan. Or you're like me: you're a Christian who is also very much in love with a man who is very much obsessed with the eagles and you're an Eagles fan.

And please excuse the excessive use of colons so far, not sure why I am so generous with them tonight, but I'll just go with it.

Now with all that said, I was pretty surprised to see this printed on a knit dress in Harajuku, here in Tokyo.
So that's for Josh, my brother who loves the Cowboys.

Not quite sure how he feels about the Delias Cowboys, though.

At least they don't have to deal with T.O., I guess.

And in case you think I am not being adventurous enough by traveling halfway across the world, here's proof that I am really living it up here.
Cause I ate one of those bad boys tonight.

And don't be fooled by the fact that it kind of looks like a pancake.

Cause it didn't taste like one in the least.

I'm not that lucky.

And just to come full circle, I will leave you with this: that was one last colon.

You're welcome.