I feel the earth move under my feet, just like Carol King said.

Okay first, don't be jealous, but there's something I have to tell you.

Not only does my current toilet come installed with a bidet, it also has a seat warmer.

Enough said.

Second, this whole earth quake situation has me mildly freaked out. Well, if the realization that you really can do nothing about it but you're still apprehensive can be called freaked out.

See, the thing is, I got it the first time, Japan. If you're trying to impress a girl from Pennsylvania with your ability to roll up the earth and make it seem like it's not ground at all, consider your goal achieved.

And really, some might say that three quakes in four days might be overkill. Like you're overcompensating. Are you thinking I might not notice how much of your sushi is slathered in mayonnaise if you keep the ground fluid? Are you thinking that a little tremble beneath my feet will keep me from running to the bathroom and spitting that mayo-slathered-sushi out?

If so, you're wrong.

Cause I will not eat mayonnaise in a quake; I will not eat it in a lake; I will not eat it Japan-I-Am; I will not eat it anywhere.

But moving on. And trusting God that I will make it back to America in one piece. And still moving on.

I am exhausted. Completely drained. I have done four shows in 24 hours and have yet another matinee tomorrow. I got five hours of sleep last night and my show shoes feel like they simply must be mistaken for something else because surely those torture devices could not have been intended to actually be worn; not by a blue-blooded and voting American, not in a democracy, not by someone who naively thinks they are ideal for not only standing but also dancing.

Seriously, the pain in my feet have reminded me once again how awfully a foot can ache. On the break, I had sort of forgotten about all of that, which was nice.

Tonight we had dinner in a Mexican restaurant. In Tokyo, Japan. Six of us walked in, and upon taking our seating number, the hostess asked if we wouldn't mind sharing a table. Of course not, we said, and we were led to share the table with these two gentlemen.

We pretended that we weren't taking the picture with them, but rather just with me and Brandon, but really I had instructed Sterling to please make sure she got our strange table fellows in the picture--and I obviously had to sidle up as close to them as propriety would allow.

The unfortunate part was that one was a chain smoker. As we were seated I assumed that they would be leaving soon, given that they had basically finished their meal, but no. Wouldn't you know that they had so much to talk about, so much to smoke about, and so we shared this table for almost the entirety of the meal.

I wouldn't have minded so much if it weren't for the part when their stinky cigarette smoke kept wafting in my face. Like it was cute. Like it didn't shrivel my lungs.

And a sweet Japanese woman convinced me to purchase some face wash that had, among other things, avocado and charcoal in it.
I tried it and so far, so good.

I also washed it off and am now completely ready for bed.

Thank God for this.

opening night in Tokyo!

Ah. Another opening night.

Only this one was kind of special because it was in Tokyo.

And we had super big screens to the right and left of our stage with characters on them that looked like this:

#$#

#

#$%

&*

Okay, so not really like that, per se, but that's the closest thing I have to actual Japanese characters on my keyboard.

One good thing about having an audience that speaks Japanese is that if you happen to go up on a few of your lines in your one number, as long as you keep saying something, than they will never know the difference.

Right?

Well, at least that's what all your friends tell you. Because they're your friends and they generally are in the business of making you feel better when you're disappointed in yourself.

But then when you go to the swanky opening night party and see Japanese celebrities on the arm of a man who is certainly not Japanese and definitely speaking English, you realize that the jig is up. He, at least, knew. Because when you started simply saying doo bee da dee da ba for about one full phrase, he could recognize that it certainly wasn't the Queen's English anymore.

Shoot.

But then it goes full circle when, right as you lean over and tell your friend that you are rather embarrassed that you scatted just a little during Sing!, especially since you know that the English--speaking man was in the audience--that same English-speaking man next to the Japanese celebrities mouths to you across the way, You were fabulous tonight. And then he smiles. And so do you.

Okay, okay, so do I.

Because believe it or not, that scenario was about me.

And bless that English-speaking man's heart for saying that. It's amazing how much a kind word can buoy the spirit.

Oh, and this is Anthony who plays Richie and here we are, all dressed up in our party finery.

The thing about Anthony is that this is our third tour together and our second time in Asia together. See, he was my Tyrone when I played Iris in Fame Korea. We then did the National Tour of Will Rogers Follies together, and here we are on the line every night, you guessed it--together.

We joke that we need to start telling producers that we come as a package deal.

He's a sweetheart and a kind soul and we have laughed often together and had our share of deep talks that involve anything from Jesus to men to what we want to do when we grow up.

And one last thing about Anthony: he is the third man that I have ever kissed. We had some great smooches every night in Korea for about two months and boy does that man know how to keep his lips soft.

Oh and one last thing about opening night: although the Japanese do love the show (we've been told) they are very very conservative when it comes to laughing or even applauding for the most part. Many of us don't quite know what to do with our punch lines now that they are no longer followed by laughter. Raucous, wild laughter. Cause you know how amazingly hilarious we all are.

Ahem.

We've also added an actual bow to the show, instead of just letting the lights fade on our final kick line. This is because the audiences here will just keep clapping at the end of the show because they won't know it's over and won't leave. I am thinking that we might not give them enough credit, but hey, that's just me. Anyway, now we have this really cute little bow involving our hats and then we partner up and tip offstage, so it's really quite fun.

Plus the audience gets a chance to appreciate us and that is just never a bad thing.

erathquakes, tsunamis, and cat treats, oh my!

So, we set out for a bit of adventure today...But wait. Stop. First, let me tell you about the earthquake that woke me up at 5am this morning. Being asleep and all at the onset, I wasn't exactly at my sharpest when I first started consciously thinking.

So after hearing the immense amount of rattling that was taking place all around me, my first thought was, Somebody's trying to get into my room!!!

But it was more like, SOMEBODY'S TRYING TO GET INTO MY ROOM!!!, only, you know, in thought form.

And then, once I realized that my bed was shaking uncontrollably, really rolling around like it was fluid or something, my next thought was, And now they've gotten in and are shaking my bed!!!

So you can imagine my intense relief when I realized that the amount of noise and movement that had so abruptly woken me up was only an earthquake and not, in fact, harmful intruders who first broke into my room and then, horror of horrors, decided to shake my bed.

Because we all know that most break-ins are in order to shake a bed.

Jails are just full of those kinds of criminals and dear God, please protect us from them all.

But that earthquake really was something; it lasted a pretty long time--maybe even ten minutes--and I was glad when it exhausted itself so I could go back to sleep.

I am also glad that I didn't know about the tsunami warning (!!!) until it had already passed. I am terrified of tsunamis, but have always comforted myself by the fact that I have never lived closer than a two hour drive to any shore. Until now, that is.

Anyway, back to my adventure today.

It started with a trip to the 7-11 nearby. My friends all chose something uniquely Japanese, but me? I, uh, didn't.
Ritz crackers and Evian water are the universal language that translates quite nicely into S-N-A-C-K no matter what part of the globe you inhabit.

But don't worry I did eat some local fare later on in the day, and my friends bought this candy for all of us to share.
At least candy is what they said it was. Having only Japanese writing on it, there was really no way for us to tell what it was, but given how closely it smelled like something that crawled out of the ocean as well as the cat face it sported, we decided it might actually be a cat treat and left it alone.

And then we ventured out onto the subway for the first time.
And by we I mean smart people who actually figured out where we needed to get on and off while Brandon and I wandered behind, happy to follow and lost in our conversation.

It's nice to see how the Japanese care for the pregnant women.
And encourage rude, clueless teenagers to get off their seats and do the same.

We made it to the Tokyo Tower, although I gotta say that I did not think it was very beautiful.
It was pretty tall though, so there's that. We could look for miles and miles and still not see the end of Tokyo, this city is that big.

Oh and we stopped for a bathroom break there. I gingerly stepped around the urine that was on the floor and went to it.
After the tower, we went to a nearby temple and graveyard.
You may find it strange and morbid, but I love graveyards. I think the care and attention to detail in the burial of their loved ones is a special and telling part of every culture: we all love and miss our family, our friends, the people who create home for us.

Graveyards are hallowed and sadly beautiful testaments to the importance of each other, I think. And I kind of felt weird posing for this picture next to this gravestone; I didn't feel like a smile would be apropos, exactly, which left me looking like this.
But I am not sure that cats have the same sense of propriety. At least this one found nothing whatsoever wrong about catching a midday nap on this gravesite.
Too bad I didn't save one of those could-be-candy-but-is-probably-a-cat-treat for this kitty.

We visited the Imperial Palace, but couldn't see much of it because it's closed 363 days out of the year. So we settled for walking around the beautiful gardens that surround it.
And I loved the look of these two swans.
Doing what swans should do and not at all confused or doubting their calling. A lot of us could learn from this, I think.

Oh, and leave it to me to say, well, this...

Please bear in mind that we had only landed in Japan a few hours earlier and jet-lagged doesn't even begin to describe what I was feeling. I walk up to Mindy and her husband Dave who had already been sight-seeing in Japan for 10 days and suddenly remember the facebook status of Mindy's that said something about hiking the Japanese Alps a few days before. Perfect conversation starter, right? Ah, perfect conversation starter when you aren't exhausted and apparently dyslexic. But I am getting ahead of myself here.

I give Dave a hug and, in the middle of the hotel lobby, loudly ask him, So how was hiking the Alpanese Japs?

Yep, not only did I sound crazy, I also managed to sound racist. Just perfect. Of course we both laughed, but still--Japs?!?!?! Did I really have to accidentally say Japs?!?!

Apparently I did.

tokyo, take 1

We saw this as we were walking through the subway today. And we open here in Tokyo on Wednesday. Um, I should really go over my lines.

People are so kind here, so dignified. Honor is a huge part of their culture, which I respect so much. Today, we were leaving a restaurant and the waiter chased down my friend Ian, telling him that we had left 60 cents over our bill, and had we miscounted? shouldn't we take it back?

See, tips are not appreciated here. The waitstaff simply do their job and don't expect monetary thanks from those they are serving. And no, I don't think that 60 cents is anything near a good tip. We actually already already knew that tips were not standard when we paid the bill, but Ian didn't feel like counting out exact change and thought that it wouldn't be a big deal to simply leave a little bit over.

He was wrong.

He took the change graciously and we were on our way.

And here is me and Brandon, in a section of the city that I would totally tell you if I remembered the name.

Trust me, it definitely sounds just like a Japanese word.

Probably because it is one.

Another thing I love about Tokyo is the contour of the cityscape.
The buildings are all different in shapes and sizes, some square some rounded, and it makes keeping your eyes wide open that much more interesting.

We went grocery shopping today, and aside from losing Brandon for a good 20 minutes (which we all felt very badly about, I can assure you!), I bought a banana, among other things.
Apparently, a delicious banana.

Huh.

We'll see.

I also tried out the bidet here in the hotel bathroom, and without going into detail, I will simply say that it does the job.

I may be too tired to really get that I am in Japan.

I am here now.

In Japan.

Which evidently takes a very long time to actually get to: 13 hours, by plane. And for me, specifically, 13 hours by way of the middle seat in the middle aisle of the plane--which is what happens when someone else books your ticket.

But that also means that someone else buys your ticket, so I really can't complain.

The sky is thick with clouds and rain drizzles down intermittently. So far, aside from the Japanese writing and, well, the many lovely Japanese people, Tokyo does not look so very different from other cities. I am sure I will find some unique properties once I, you know, venture to do more than walk the five feet it took to get from our coach bus to the hotel lobby.

I got to practice a sort of bow today. It was quite small because I read in a book that one can tell by one's bow whether they are either mature or immature, respectful or not. Yikes. For the inexperienced bower, that is some pressure. So I opted for a downcast head in the steward's direction as I de-boarded the plane. Hopefully that was neither immature or disrespectful. Although it was probably a very touristy thing to do. A very, this is my first step onto Japanese soil, can't you tell? thing to do.

You know what would have been a really good idea? Buying an English to Japanese translation book to keep with me. Like many of my smart friends have done. Or, I could have not lost the Japan information booklet that our company manager made for each of us. That could have been helpful too.

My friend and I practiced some Japanese phrases onboard today, but unfortunately, the sounds seem to fall out of my brain as soon as I think of anything else. Or blink. Or breathe. Or take a two hour nap on a plane. I am pretty sure I can manage to avoid the latter for the next month at least, but avoiding the former will prove to be impossible, I am afraid. Maybe once I actually get a full night's sleep I will be able to retain some of those words. It'd be nice to at least learn the Japanese word for please, I think.

But in the meantime, thank God a smile remains universal.

Lack of sleep upon lack of sleep has made me feel like I am the most recent recipient of a lobotomy. Nice. Usually, I feel very excited about certain things--like a bride all dressed in her finery, for instance. But I passed one, beautiful and shining in folds of white swirling around her, and didn't feel a thing.

It's going to be a good night for sleeping, I think.

it's a long long road sometimes

It's official.

And here's the proof.
My visa. For Japan.

FOR JAPAN!!!

And aside from the fact that I look exactly like my brothers in this picture, it's a teensy tiny bit exciting to look at it.

But I don't really want to go. I just hate the leaving home part. The last hugs, last words, the last last last...

I. Hate. It.

But still, it's traveling. Like, so exciting. Whenever I tell someone that I am leaving to work in Japan for a month they look at me like I told them that, I don't know, I just won the lottery or something. You know, something awesome. A dream. And then I feel like saying if it's so freaking fantastic why don't you go and I'll just stay home???

At dinner tonight I asked Drew if it was too late to reschedule. Something came up. Something like home. And Drew. And how much I need to be with him. So...yeah, I'm not gonna be able to make it.

Okay, just kidding.

I'll make it.

And to prove it, I have half a suitcase packed already with nearly 40 pairs of underwear inside, waiting to be worn in Japan. And no, not at the same time, smarty pants.

I know, I know, God has opened this door and all that. It's gonna be good. But right now--well, it's hard.

But I've been through it enough by now to know that there is grace for me, joy for me. Even all the way in Japan.

Wow. And that's not a sarcastic wow, believe it or not; I mean it, I am amazed by how God continues to bolster my heart, to encourage me, to help me to do it--whatever it is at the moment.

Even if it means doing it afraid, it doesn't end there.

So here's to anticipating some beauty that for some reason can only be found in Japan...and wading through the sadness in the meantime...

Now you'll forgive me for leaving--I have a mom and a few dogs on their way to wish me bon voyage, as well as a husband whose on his way back home after unexpectedly getting off from work tonight to be with me.

So really, who can be too terribly sad after describing their situation like that?

thick as thieves

Friends. And it's been that way for a long time now.

Erin, the beauty in the middle, I met in a rather unconventional way, I'd say. See, I was on the toilet. Yep, On. The. Toilet. But back up a bit, cause there's more to this story. I was maybe five years old and had some sort of digestive problem, to put it delicately. Basically the hairs that move the food along in the large intestine up and died on me (thanks a lot, hairs) and left me unable to go numero dos.

But since I didn't stop eating, I didn't stop trying, if you know what I mean.

So I spent a lot of time on the toilet.

And I guess my mom just decided to keep life as normal as possible for me while I was on that toilet. Thus she introduced me to the new girl, Erin, while I was on the toilet. Straining, if you must know.

And that was it. It sealed the deal for us, I guess, because we've been the best of friends since then. And tonight we spent a long time sitting down and talking, sharing our hearts; it was soul food, you know?

But no, I was not on the toilet.

This time.

And Christine, the beauty on the right? Well I don't technically remember meeting her. I think I might have been three years old or something. I do, however, remember her running around outside my house, tanned and tomboyish, and eating tomatoes whole. Like an apple. It made an impression on me, I guess.

And we've been together ever since, thick as thieves, as they say.

Actually, the three of us are thick as thieves.

And if you can say that ten times in a row I will totally give you a high five.