bye bye bye

        And I thought yesterday was hard.  

        Funny how the present always feels like the worst, when really the worst might be just around the corner, or in this case, the uh, next day.  Because that's when you perform the last show with the original company. Or at least, that is what happened today.  

       It started early, actually.  Jay scheduled a brunch for the whole cast at this kitschy little diner that's been around since the mid 1800's, so we met there around 11:00 am.  On the way over, I shared with a couple friends how I started crying the night before when I saw John take his shirt off off stage and they thought that was really funny.  So once we got to the diner and John walked over to say a friendly hello, Ian innocently told me to tell John about the impetus for my tears the night before.  

     I started to tell the story, but then my throat just closed up.  I couldn't talk anymore.  I sat there, amid all the breakfast eaters and surrounded by friends, staring at John and starting to cry.  I did manage to say, I can't tell the story...in between sniffs and attempts at composure.

   

     Of course John hugged me and called me a sweetheart and of course others tried to tell me to cheer up.  But the truth is today was not a day for cheer; it's sad and it's okay to acknowledge it.  

    So through the whole breakfast I was just eating my french toast (which I devoured, practically leaving the plate clean and saving the dish washer a rinse and dry cycle) and crying.  My friends got used to it.  And each time another person got added to the mix, someone would inevitably say, Be careful how you drink your orange juice; it might make Jessica cry.  Or Don't ask her to tell a story about John taking his shirt off; it will make Jessica cry...

    I continued to be all weepy while warming up.  I applied make-up over wet, teary cheeks.  But I was thinking that maybe, just maybe, I was getting all the emotion out now, so that when I go on stage I can, you know, do my job and not be a basket case.

    Good idea.  Great idea.  Didn't happen.

    I hold hands with Jay (who is leaving) to walk onto the dark stage and set for the top of the show.  We grabbed hands and both began to cry. We were sniffling as we walked onto the stage.  My face was hurting during the opening because I was trying to compose it...

    I kept thinking I would stop crying, that there has got to be a point when the tears run out, but no. Because then I would see John or catch Jay's eye or think about Emily and my insides would just melt all over again.  Oh, and you don't even want to know how much snot was flinging out of my nose during any turns that I did. It wasn't so pretty, folks.

    I can only imagine what the audience was thinking.  Either they took us to be some of the most melodramatic, over-the-top actors on the face of the earth (you know, just sobbing cause we need the job so badly--how's that for an acting choice?!), or they figured that someone very close to us had dropped dead right at the places call.  

   How did I manage to get it together for my monologue and song?  Easy.  I thought about some rude comments that an anonymous poster has been leaving on this blog.  Don't try looking for them because I deleted them, which I shall continue to do should they keep coming, but as I thought of them, I got mad and the tears instantly dried up.  

   But only for the duration of my scene with Al.  Because right after, the waterworks started again...

   By the last scene literally all of us were crying on stage.  We were wiping our eyes and noses, and had become a nice little bunch of puffy-faced hot messes.  Poor Colt sits beside me as I stand at the end of the show, and I made the mistake of lowering my gaze and simultaneously succeeded in dripping snot all over him.  

  Nice guy, he only gave me a squeeze and smiled.  He didn't even wipe it off.   

   I have never felt this way about a group of people I have worked with before. I am exponentially blessed to have been a part of this company, and for that I am truly grateful.  

   We had a send-off party tonight and there were quite a few toasts given.  Almost all were heartfelt and transparent, filling our hearts with words of love and honor and devotion to our craft as well as to our friendships.  

  I had just a small toast to add once the weighty moments had passed, so I raised my glass and said, To Cleveland! Since I am so obviously Cleveland's favorite person, I felt like it was appropriate.  And well, we laughed.  

   Tomorrow is a much needed day off.  I have no definite plans as of yet--other than not setting my alarm and definitely working on my music...Oh and not crying, which after today, seems like a novel idea.  I think the five hours or so I spent crying today should have me set for a good long while...

tears...

          Emotional.

          Unduly so, actually.

           Now how about I start using actual sentences and explain that those two sentence fragments aptly describe me this past day? I bet you would like that, huh?  And I can guarantee that I will still be riding that emotional train tomorrow.  

           Let me start from the beginning, though.  In the last month or so, the character of Kristine's singing has gone from bad to well, worse.  Now, don't get me wrong, Kristine is supposed to be a really bad singer--that's her whole schtick, actually.  

          But when I was just a bad singer, people didn't seem to think it was so funny.  

           And then when I became a truly terrible singer people started to laugh.  And let me tell you, it feels really good to get a reaction like that...Maybe my insecurity is what makes it feel so good, but I am just being honest when I say that a responsive audience lends wings to the performer--at least, it does to this performer. 

          Turns out the higher-ups are not happy with my new-found notes and have decided to "reign me in." I met with my music director today and had kind of a difficult rehearsal.  He was very kind, don't get me wrong, but it makes me sad to think about letting go of this path of comedy that I have found.  

      Because here is the thing: my number with Al is all about how horrible my singing is.  So when it comes time for the audience to hear me actually sing, they've built up some expectations, and I feel like I need to deliver.  Like I need to show them that Kristine may be a fierce dancer (if I uh, do say so myself...), but she cannot sing her way out of a paper bag.  

   But when I hear the words "reign in," it just scares me a little.  However, I am not above a note--especially one from my boss--so I am going to try to do whatever it is that they want.

   So right, I left that rehearsal in tears and felt even more stupid for crying about it.  Then Ian and John and Anthony and Derek and Emily wanted to know what was wrong (not necessarily at the same time, though) and so the tears started coming. Again.  

   And then it was 15 till places and I was like, Great, who needs make-up when you have tears and snot all over you face?!   

  But then the show started (with my face appropriately cleaned up) and it was great--really fun--and I honestly did try to reign in my bad notes.  But we will see if it was reigned in enough. Who knows.  

  Fast-forward--I am doing fine...the show is almost over, I haven't needed to blow my nose since the opening and I am ready and anticipating game night with friends afterwards.  But then I look at my dear John, just having left stage and taking off his shirt to get into his finale costume, and I lose it all over again.  

  Part of it may have been seeing John's horribly out of shape body (he was taking off his shirt after all) and those of you who have had the pleasure of seeing him will know just what I mean (wink, wink); but I think most of it was that it's just so sad to say good-bye to such a close friend. 

  Anyway, I am tired. I need to make some more cards for my friends leaving tomorrow.  

  Let's end on a good note, shall we? I am grateful for the extra hour of sleep we all get to enjoy tonight.  Fall back is a lovely invention, I must say.  I am also grateful for the game, Buzz Word, which a small group of us got to enjoy tonight (and by "enjoy" I mean be extremely competitive with each other, me being the ring leader).   No, actually it was really fun. And actually I was really competitive.  

  I just like to win sooooooo much.  

  But I am missing the point: I am grateful. Even when I don't win (lost by 4 points tonight).  

   Still grateful, though (just might be a little more grateful had I won).

    Just kidding (kinda).

Oh, and because today was Halloween and all...

    I thought I would mention that while I was standing on the line during the show tonight, I looked out at the audience and I couldn't help but notice this: a man, sitting in the third row, looking like a respectable theater goer in (almost) every sense of the word, with his glasses and his nicely pressed button down shirt and um, a pair of long, pointy elf ears framing his face.  

   Yes, elf ears.

     But, he was just as serious as can be, watching us dance and sing for our lives, wondering who would get the job in the end, all while sporting some elf ears that were about as big as his head.  

    It was all I could do not to crack up laughing.

    I loved it.  

TGIF doesn't really exist for people in theater...

    Okay, this is something my friend PJ brought to my attention and I just had to share it, because I find it so funny...

    Does anybody else really think that I "blasted" Cleveland?!?!  The truth is that I don't want to blast anything, necessarily; I just want to write.  About life, and namely how it pertains to me.

   I suppose it really is true that the pen is mightier than the sword--case in point being the strong emotions that my statements describing my experience in Cleveland evoked...And the fact that my "honorable mention" award at a Halloween party is considered newsworthy is both flattering and um, kind of funny to me, as well.  But I will agree with them when they say that Toronto is treating me well.  It is. I actually really love it here; it's like New York City and London each gave the best of themselves and landed here.  

   And it's another melting pot; just step onto the subway and you will hear English, sure, but with a nice counterpoint of other accents and languages layering it.  And speaking of stepping onto the subway, you can do so without too much attention to where you are stepping because this city--yes, even the subway--is clean!  

   Nope, I don't mind staying here for five weeks, not one bit.  

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  Now, onto some more news.  Clyde Alves, who wonderfully portrays Mike in ACL, is a singer/song-writer like myself and he has put together a gig for us here in Toronto.  It's another benefit for Equity Fights Aids, which I am really excited about, and is slated as An Intimate Night with a Few of the cast of A Chorus Line (or something like that).

   I saw the poster design today, which we will be distributing throughout the city, and it looks fierce (to borrow a word that we have been overusing in the cast lately).  

  It is officially slated for Monday, November 24th, and I will notify you of the place and time as soon as I know it.  I am psyched about this, though, and if you happen to read this and live in Toronto or nearby, then come! It's for a great cause and you get to listen to some music, too, so really it's a win-win situation.

  Clyde will be playing with a band, we will be collaborating some, and I will be doing some solo stuff, just me and the piano...The only sad thing for me is that my friends and family are so far away that they won't be able to come see me play.  At least at my last gig in L.A., my brother Jase could come and support and share a last name with me and everything... 

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  And now you might be saying to yourselves, But Jessica, how are you doing? Or maybe you aren't, but either way, I am going to let you know.

  I am tired. This week has been nonstop for us because we are doing double duty while rehearsing with the replacements during the day as well as performing our regular eight show week. 

  It's emotionally overwhelming to think about how this is the last weekend I have with this exact group of very special people forever.  The brevity of the situation makes me feel like I need to make every moment count, every word weighted and well-chosen, and once again I feel overwhelmed.  Because sometimes moments just tick by and all you have done is eaten a sandwich or applied some lipstick or done one more kick in a kick line and that has to be okay too.   Sometimes you have to realize that it isn't just these last few days that count; they are poignant, sure, because it our nature as humans to count the days left to us, the few more moments that we have, and see before all else the deadline looming larger than life that is irrevocably set before us, even as we still hold desperately to the sands of time and try to stay the clock; but really, it is the sum of all the days spent together that matter, really matter. They are the building blocks, the steady bricks of make-up-less travel days, of sweating together, of water parks and shabbats and conversations about God and how He might be, that have laid this foundation of friendship.  And nobody and nothing can take that away--not even Sunday and the immovable power it holds as we perform our last show together.  

  But still, this whole leaving thing sucks.  

   I don't cry too much for sentimental reasons, but the other night I got teary-eyed during What I Did for Love, just thinking about that stupid and huge good-bye we have to say.  

  But it really is going to be okay.   

  Oh, and also my feet hurt.  Right before our 8 o'clock show tonight I asked Emily, Is it a bad sign if my feet are aching in my socks?  I mean, that probably doesn't bode well for me for the next two hours of my life. I said this right before I put on my heels.  And I was right. Kristine was a little shifty in her weight tonight; you would have been too if your feet felt like mine did. Just be grateful they don't, I guess.

  Okay, that about sums up what I wanted to say tonight.  Except, as promised, I needed to let you know if I wore that fleece I won as a prize last night.  Well, no, I didn't.  This is because it is actually a fleece vest and it is big as a house. But now I guess if I ever double in size and go hiking in Colorado I have just the thing to wear.  I mean, you do need to be prepared for every scenario, right?!

batman and robin...girl

         Batman and Robin. Uh, Robin-Girl, that is...

               Right, so the casts of A Chorus Line (obviously...), Dirty Dancing, We Will Rock You, the Sound of Music, and Jersey Boys converged for a rocking costume party on Halloween Eve.  

               And so Jay and I had the bright idea to go as Batman and Robin (girl).  And here's the exciting/funny part:

                 I won honorable mention in the category of Sexiest Female!!!

                 Funny stuff, right?  And as my prize, I received a lovely light blue fleece sweatshirt that I might just flaunt at our final dress rehearsal with the replacements tomorrow.  We'll see. I'll be sure to keep you updated because I am just positive that all day tomorrow at your respective places of work or school you will just be beside yourself with curiosity as to whether or not I am indeed wearing that fleece...So don't worry, I'll tell you...

                 At one point during the party, I went to the bathroom (don't worry, the story does get a little better.  Actually, it would probably make it better if I told you that I first went into the men's bathroom...which, uh, I did, and promptly walked right back out).  A woman dressed as Lucy from I Love Lucy walked in to powder her nose and we exchanged compliments on each other's costumes.  She asked me what show I was in, and after telling her ACL, she said, Why, you're Kristine (it turns out she saw our matinee yesterday)!

               Giving myself a once-over in my Robin-Girl get up, complete with an eye mask, I told her how surprised I was that she recognized me.  Oh, why it's your hair!

               Fair enough.  I guess having really short dark hair is distinctive (if you're a girl, that is; if you're a boy, then that is about parr for the course).

             Anyway, it was fun but I am really tired and my feet hurt so much because I had the bright idea of wearing stiletto heeled boots after I wore my heels in the show and after I had a five hour rehearsal this afternoon...

            But now I have a nice fleece to show for it!

Just so we're clear (so says the twit...)

    Hi. Welcome to my writing space.  Maybe I should make this clear: this is my blog.  A dear friend of mine, Anthony, usually says one word when asked, say, what kind of sandwich he is eating: mine. Or you might say, What kind of jacket is that? And he is quick to say, mine. We get a good laugh at this, since he is joking, but the truth is that sometimes you do have to be clear about ownership, certain about boundaries.  

   So right, this blog is mine; a place where I air my thoughts, tell my stories, and relate life as I see it.  I am not a politician trying to smooth talk her way to the polls; I will not be asking for your vote now or anytime soon.  Nor am I a scientist. Most of the time I have not researched much of anything very extensively; I have not taken a census nor have I averaged out anything to find the mean.  I do hypothesize, sure, but I do not usually present my hypothesis as a conclusive fact. Or at least I try not to. 

   I simply relate my experiences, the way I see them.  

    Which is what happened in Cleveland. My experience was a tough one and I am sorry if that offends you.  My friends' lives were threatened.  I felt unsafe. I saw drug deals out in the open. We had to be shepherded by an armed security guard from the theater to our respective hotels at night. 

    This is not to say that someone else might go to Cleveland and not have a wonderful time--I have heard the Rock N Roll hall of Fame is awesome, the Art Museum one of the best.  

    But my time in Cleveland was rough and I hope that the city gets safer and fills its abandoned buildings with good things.  

   With that said, I will say that rude anonymous commentors do not hold much weight with me.  I liken them to a terrorist sniper who simply shoots from the shadows but does not have the courage to reveal themselves or let their words be given the strength of their name.  

    Sure, I find them interesting. But I also find them cowardly.  

   Right, so now that we're clear...Thanks so much for stopping by and I really mean that.  I love the fact that you find what I write about my life to be interesting at all; it means a lot to me.  But please realize that I will be frank in describing my life the way that I see it.  Because, remember?

   This is my blog.  

a blended family

          Tonight while I was walking home from the subway, it started to snow.  As in winter time, as in winter wonderland, as in the earth starts over with a nice clean white slate.  Or something like that.  

          I was walking home with two South Texans who do not appreciate snow or frigid temperatures to say the least, but not me; I was loving it.  

           Canada is cold, but I really enjoy it.  It means I get to bundle up in my new coat Drew got me for Christmas last year; that I get to wear this really cute white knit headband with a big rosette on the side; that I layer everything, of all different colors; that I can wear my thickest, tallest socks underneath my 80's boots, or cowboy boots, or knee-high boots...you get the point; I like boots.

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            I met the replacements today.  That's right, we have the remainder of this week--just 7 more shows--with our dear, original cast--and then the new class steps in.  When they were introducing themselves to us, it kind of felt like we were becoming a blended family.  Like our step brothers and sisters were just there, moving in, whether we wanted them to or not.  

           Don't get me wrong, they seem so nice, and the best part is that they are so excited to be here--their energy alone will be like a shot in the arm for our show, I am sure.  But still. I have to say good-bye to some really dear friends on Sunday and I hate to say good-bye and have never been what one would call a huge fan of change, either, now that I think about it.  

         The nice thing about this business is that the theater community is very small; you always end up seeing people again.  At least, I keep telling myself this.

           Another reminder of the inevitable: I walk into the theater today for orientation, and I see that I am assigned to share a dressing room with my dear friend, Emily, which is awesome--it being her last week, and all--but that's not it.  Since the cast replacements step in after just the first week of Toronto, and we are here for five, the assignment says:

                             Dressing Room #2: Jessica Latshaw/Emily Fletcher/Shannon Lewis

            So again, it made it all real.  Emily is leaving, and I will be sharing a dressing room with someone who is very cool, I am sure, but not the person that I have become friends with in the space of a very special six month period.  

          It'll be okay, it's just sad.

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          My phone is now a very expensive paper weight that I carry around with me. Sometimes it tells me the time, but since it is roaming most of the time on some foreign Rogers Network, I mostly keep it turned off.  I had grown so used to getting my email on my phone, sending and receiving texts, and of course, ah, calling people.  

         Oh well, this is probably good for me.  It's kind of like camping, right?

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       This is a really busy week for me.  We previewed tonight, have two shows tomorrow, rehearse with the replacements on thursday afternoon then have a show (followed by a Halloween party with the casts of Dirty Dancing and Jersey Boys), have a dress rehearsal with the replacements on Friday then a show, two shows on Saturday, one matinee on Sunday...And then we say good-bye to those leaving...

       And on Tuesday, the blended family is complete.  The replacements open with us and the show goes on...And I make new friends. 

       Again.

       But thankfully, there are some very special people staying on with the show...