daylight

I traveled a lot yesterday.

Monday went on forever, it seemed; In fact, it was about 13 hours longer than it should have been.

But when it comes to enduring however many hours it takes to get home, who's counting, really?

Not me.

Besides, those hours will happen no matter what. Might as well be spending them getting somewhere good. What's two bus trips, two flights, two movies, many meals, and multiple games of solitaire--one of which I actually won?

Not much.

Except for when I won, then it was a lot.

And it's been nice to hear Drew play my guitar; he makes it sing with a voice I had yet to hear.

It was nice walking my mom's doggies with her early in the day.

Heck, it was even sort of nice waking up at 5:30 am, since I was waking in my own bed to a still gray morning in which the sun was slowly rising, casting dawn upon us all like a spell. Like a beautiful spell that fills the world with light, and I am no exception so I'll happily stand in place besides the rest of creation and wait to be filled with a new expectation for the day.

Wait to be filled with the dawn.

Thank God there is one every day.

time

It's funny how time works. The way it just keeps going, moving along whether you want it to or not. I am actually pretty fascinated by it...I think back to when I started this job and it feels like a life time ago.

Walking into that big studio in Times Square.

Feeling like it was the first day of school, only my mom wasn't right next to me this time.

And yet at the same time, it is almost unfathomable that two birthdays have passed since I started this job.

Time works that way, doesn't it? Infinite, yet fleeting. Encompassing but can't come fast enough.

What brought this to mind is a picture I found the other night. Sometimes I like to go through my photos when I can't sleep or when I am missing home.

And one stood out to me.

I remember it perfectly, like it was yesterday.

Drew and I were walking on the pier in Chicago, clouds were billowed high over us, and we came upon a sign. It had arrows pointing different directions and the amount of miles to whatever big city was that way.

And yeah, Tokyo stood out.

Cause it was this place that I was going, but it still didn't seem real. At that moment, with Drew in Chicago, it was as real as the children we would have someday, the end of this tour, or even Christmas when it's only June.

It was the not yet.

And all of the moments that had to transpire until I left for Tokyo were daunting; all of the shows to do stateside, the meals to eat, nights to sleep through, weeks home to spend...But somehow all of those moments pile up and eventually tip the scale, making the line between the future and the present blur and suddenly what you thought was just a speck in the distance is staring you right in the face.

And you are saying good-bye and trying to be brave and wondering how that lump in your throat never seems to go down, not even with age, not even with it being the thirtieth time you're having to leave.

And now my trip to Japan has happened. Just like that. And yes, it was amazing...I actually think the question How is Japan? is a little hilarious. I mean, there is just so much to it. Do I mention the smells, how the air in even the 7-11 hangs heavy with the odor of fish? How I awake to purplish grey mountains outside my window? How people are crying in the audience every show; how they video us leaving the stage door and seem honored to shake our hands? How I got to play my music here in Tokyo and one of the emails I received afterward mentioned that my music was very friendly, among other things? Do I talk about the noodles, noodles, and more noodles? How the monkey wrapped himself around my leg, like I was a freaking tree? How I am now used to not being able to read one single thing in the subway? How I am physically in Japan, on the other side of the world, but well, there's this whole part of me, my imagination, I guess, that's back in America, that's in a small house with a man and two cats?

Or do I just smile and say Japan is amazing?

Cause it is.

And it's also a lot.

And how strange that here I was back in April, standing in Chicago while pointing towards Tokyo, a place I had never before been,

and now I have worked here for a month.

And now I get to go back home. And time is behind all of it.

Well, time and God, I suppose.

And guess what?

I never did figure out how to get to this theater here in Hyogo on my own.

And I am really okay with that.

fun with sticks

I remember once my sister-in-law remarked upon how funny it was that her kids had accumulated so many toys over the years.

Because really, Rebekah said, they end up playing with a string more than anything else.

A string.

And who knows where it had even come from. Certainly not Toys R Us.

Apparently, her kids had been into playing doggie and used that string as the leash. Sounds like fun to me. But my point is, put a little creativity into the mix, and voila! you end up having a good time.

Take the other night, for example.

And since I've been in Japan for the last month, I use the term the other night very loosely.

Drew and I were at my brother and sister-in-law's house and, in what is becoming something of a tradition for us, Drew brought out the stick.

A stick that you simply attach to your chin, while standing in a clear space. We even put some pillows in the corners to try to minimize any potential damage to people or furniture.
At first, it doesn't seem all that interesting. At least not for the spectators.
You are simply spinning with this stick on your chin, looking up at the ceiling, counting to 30 rotations.

But then once those 30 turns have been completed, the fun begins.

The object is to throw the stick on the ground and simply jump over it.

Shouldn't be too hard, right?

Wrong.

Maybe the hardest thing you'll ever do. And 9 out of 10 people don't end up accomplishing it.

But they sure do end up like this.
The next rainy day, you should try it.

If you've exhausted your game of doggie, that is. Or lost your string, whichever comes first.

And tonight, we had a big closing party, since we finish out our Japan leg of the tour tomorrow. Part of it was in honor of our dear Production Stage Manager, Ray, who is leaving us after Japan in order to go do Dream Girls.

A moment of silence please, because this makes me very very sad.

But another part of it was to honor us, which was so very kind.

They gave each one of us an authentic Japanese traveling bag with our names embroidered on it. They even had Japanese characters underneath our American names, which is just so special.
They tried to pick out a pattern according to each of our characters in the show, and I gotta say I think they got it spot on with these polka dots.

Oh, and the meaning of the three Japanese words for my name?

Ground. Design. Deer.

Love all three; I think it suits me just fine.

Much better than my friend Amos' whose name means:

Love. Burning love. Vinegar.

Ha! Vinegar!!!

Can hardly believe that my time here is coming to a close...OR THAT MY FIRST SHOW TOMORROW IS AT 11 am!!!!

What?

Yes, 11am. Ouch. That is eeeaaaarrrrllllyyy.

Better get to bed...

osaka

The Tempozan Harbor Village Ferris Wheel.

It may or may not be the world's largest ferris wheel.

But it is definitely in Osaka.

See, before you buy a ticket there is a sign espousing that it is the world's largest.

But then after you've bought the ticket, and upon entry, another sign says it is one of the world's largest.

Whatever, it's big. And I can see it from my hotel window all the way out here in Amagasaki.

It also forecasts the weather; the night before, depending upon the color that the ferris wheel is, you know whether or not the coming day will dawn clear or not.

Pretty cool, huh? Who needs the weather channel anyway?

And tonight Liza and I visited the Osaka Aquarium Kaiyukan.
And yes, I totally had to google that to remember it's name.

And here's what I learned: an aquarium is an aquarium is an aquarium.

Don't get me wrong, I really enjoyed it. I love animals, and always appreciate getting to see them. But, aside from the Japanese announcements as well as all the Japanese signs, I wouldn't have known it from any one of our aquariums in the states.

At one point, however, one of the staff members walked through, blaring out announcements over a loudspeaker. Both Liza and I desperately hoped that she wasn't announcing a break-out from the shark tank or that the building was suddenly on fire because, well, we couldn't understand a word she was saying.

We simply continued to stroll on by in blind faith that the announcement was not pertinent to us. Blissful ignorance at it's best, folks.

I will say that the sea otters were just adorable.
You can just make out his little head, with me getting as close to him as the glass would allow. But not getting to touch the fuzzy little dude was sad.

See, I am a very tactile person. It's how I learn and, for the most part, understand the world. Whenever I am learning something new, I have to physically do it myself. It won't work if you just try to tell me what to do; it goes in one ear and out the other.

Which is why I am so bad at listening to directions. But you guys already know about that.

Anyway, it's hard for me to see something I really love and not touch it, if that makes sense. While shopping, I find myself touching most things that are yellow. I have to hug and pet my parents' dogs. I am driven to squeeze my cats. In love, of course.

Anyway, the hard thing about an aquarium is that you just can't pet the animals. And if I were to have some sort of allowance to pet one animal in the aquarium, it would totally be the sea otters.

I just don't know how to go about getting that allowance...If anyone knows, I am all ears.

And I love some of the English translations I happen by. This one was from Osaka today. A hair salon...Er, actually...

...a hair make.

Yep, that's about right.

And I can only imagine the crazy things I would end up saying if I ever took it upon myself to try to master the complex and beautiful Japanese language; I am sure I'd say a lot funnier things than hair make.

Or good ruck!

Which is what the policeman yelled to us after explaining how to get to the Hanshin subway line to us.

And as it turns out, we did have good ruck.

Cause we found our way home in a jiff.

a day in the life of

Since I moved to this new city that is somewhere in the prefecture that is called Hyogo (and I would totally be more specific if I remembered the actual name of the city), I now have an hour commute to the theater.

And this commute is riddled with tickets--a pink one and a blue one, to be precise, that I cannot lose because without them I can neither enter nor leave the subway station. I was handed exactly 10 pink tickets and 10 blue tickets upon checking into my hotel on Monday and must make sure to have them on hand for our daily commute.

As if that weren't enough, I also have to change trains twice and pray that I get the express train rather than the local, though to be honest I don't think I would recognize one over the other before I was on it and was either stopping at every hole in the wall I passed or was seeing Hyogo in a blur as I zipped by.

Now imagine me.

Directionally challenged.

Not good at keeping small papers.

Or larger papers, for that matter, like marriage licenses.

Don't speak Japanese, so good luck at retaining the names of the stations at which I need to get off.

Or pronouncing them.

And 5'8, too.

Since you're imagining me, I thought it might be easier if you knew my height too.

I know, I think of everything and you're welcome.

But suffice it to say, I am desperate to make sure that I accompany others to the theater. Otherwise, I am pretty sure I might just end up in Tibet.

And I'd still be in the same situation: unable to speak the language, juggling many pastel tickets, confused, and of course, 5'8.

So think of me fondly as you wake up and, with contentment, realize that you know just exactly how to get to where you are going today.

Must be nice.

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.