that's right, PA

   I have to admit, I am a huge fan of good old Pennsylvania.  I was born there. Specifically, in a little blue house and even more specifically, sound asleep.

Right, so I was raised on 21 acres of land in PA. 

It was perfect.

I am talking, green-rolling-hills, meandering streams, lots of trees for climbing and dirt paths for walking perfect.  

And apparently, I am not the only one who loves PA.  Apparently, somebody else thought that it would be a really good idea to let Canadians know just how awesome of a place it is.  

And the best way to represent the fantastic qualities of PA--I mean, the absolute pin-point portrayal of my favorite state is what else? 

 A bear. A huge bear, walking around with shopping bags in paw. Perfect, right?

  So this humongous billboard is right smack in the middle of Dundas Square, a sort of smaller version of Times Square.  And it's just a simple advertisement for nothing other than the great state of Pennsylvania.  

  And I think it's pretty funny.  So, way to go PA.  I hope you appreciate your shout-out in Canada; I know I sure do.

had to honor this tradition of giving thanks.

   Happy Thanksgiving!

   Our dear company managers arranged a catered early dinner for us at the King Edward Hotel, American-style, with turkey and cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie and apple cobbler.   

It was absolutely lovely.  Though, we had to show some restraint in the amounts of food we ate considering we did have a show later in the day. And that show involves leotards. And dancing. And preferably not throwing up.

And you don't think I forgot about my pet shark, Bruce, do you?

On the holidays I try to be kind to animals as well, so I let Bruce swim around in his element.

  So, I can tell you what Bruce was thankful for today...
   Since Donna, my head of wardrobe has prohibited him from my shoe box, I try to make it up to him and let him swim around a little...It's the least I can do.

    I sort of forgot about him, though, and left him in the bathtub.  I didn't remember that's where he was until Gabi just recently came out of the bathroom, having just showered, and told me that it's kind of weird to step into the shower and see Bruce grinning up at her with all those teeth.  

   Oops.

   So, I hope everyone had a lovely Thanksgiving day.  Mine didn't feel quite the same; I miss my dear family and Drew so much.  But, I am grateful for the lovely people who I am with. They make me laugh until I can hardly breathe sometimes.  They let me borrow their pointe shoes (uh, thanks, Kevin).  They have perfectly coifed hair (um, Ian). They remind me that they will be holding mandatory weigh-ins in Philly (bring it, John). They stretch my feet (ouch, Brandon).  They brag to everyone they know about how quickly I read the Twilight Series books (what a proud stage mom, Gabi).  And they come back from time to time to hold shabbats (Emily, you cannot stay away, and I am glad!). I am grateful for a lot this year, but right now I will say that I am especially grateful for friends.

  So thank you, God, for all of them. 

this health care is NOT free.

   So much for free health care for all in Canada.

    I am still really mad about this, but I will try to be nice.

    I have been sick now for over a week and I really need my voice to come back in full strength. Last night's show was difficult and I didn't want to hurt my voice further by trying to project on a hoarse voice.  

   So I called out today and decided that I should see a doctor.  You know, to get medicine if that's necessary. To rule out a sinus infection.  To get better so I can go back to work.  

   I call the number of one of the doctors on the city sheet that our company manager gave us.  Perfect, turns out it's only a few blocks from my apartment and they have an opening right now.  

  I get there. The receptionist asks for my Canadian health care card.  I tell her I am American and find out that they don't take American health insurance.  Great.  I ask her how much the cost will be for the visit and she says very nonchalantly, No more than...$300. What? I think. Well, if it's anywhere even near $300, then I should just go because I really can't afford that fee, I say. 

  She looks at me pointedly. You're a performer, right? Yeah, I agree. And you're sick? Yeah, I lost my voice, I say.  Well, at least stay and talk to the doctor; he's very reasonable and we can work something out with you, I am sure.

  So I wait. The doctor walks out, Dr. Hand, which I think is a funny name. I tell him that I am not Canadian and so am not covered and ask how much the fee will be.  He says, Don't you worry about a thing; we can work all that out. We have to make sure that you are better.

  But then he asks me if he can leave for like 10 minutes; turns out he needs to see a doctor that can only see him right then.  I find this ironic and say with a half-smile, Are you sick? 

  The irony is lost on him and he just ignores my inquiry. 

   While I am waiting, I keep worrying about the as-of-yet unnamed fee, so I stand up, go to the receptionist and say, Hey, I think I should just leave. I really don't want to pay a ton of money to be told that I just  have a cold...Once again, she assures me, Don't worry--he will work something out with you.  It will be fine. You need to get better right? 

   So I sit back down. And I wait for Dr. Hand to return from his doctor's visit.  

   Finally, he comes back and escorts me into a room.  The first thing he says is, I can tell you are anxious about the cost; don't be, just relax. Fine. I try to relax. I tell him about losing my voice, I tell him that I am afraid it might be a sinus infection; I tell him I've been sick for over a week and need to get better.  See, whenever anything starts effecting my voice, I instantly get this irrational fear that maybe something is really wrong; that maybe my voice will never become normal again.  Stupid, I know; but this doctor unwittingly preyed upon those fears as he says, Let's take a look at your vocal chords.

   Please God, let my vocal chords be okay, I think.  

    Dr. Hand readies this little apparatus that he says will first thread up my nose, then drop down my throat. This will enable him to look at everything closely.  He asks if I've ever had this done before, I tell him no.  He says it won't hurt at all.

   He is wrong.  At least, it is extremely uncomfortable. It feels horrible, all kinds of wrong.  As he drops it down my throat and then makes me start talking, I convulsively start gagging and then coughing. It's a reflex that I can't help.  At this, he dispassionately, if not somewhat patronizingly, says, Please cover your mouth when you cough.

   As if I was just coughing for fun and not trying to refrain from throwing up on Dr. Hand. I mean, given the choice between simply coughing on him or throwing up, I thought I was taking the polite route. But, I immediately cover my mouth with my hand.  And at this point, I know that I don't like him.  

   He tells me my vocal chords look fine.  And I am happy about that.  Also, that I have a virus. Specifically, a Toronto virus, whatever the heck that means. Oh yeah, and he literally writes on a prescription pad for me to "drink hot water with honey."  

   Then he gets down to business. I would normally charge someone 4 to 5 hundred dollars for this visit, but I understand that you think even three hundred is too much.  Yeah, I agree, I can't afford that. Well, he says, You have to understand that this is my living. Of course, I say enthusiastically, I understand that. He goes on, Can you pay 2 hundred? 

   Gulp.

   I guess I will pay whatever I have to, I capitulate. Great, then 2 hundred it is, he quickly says, ending the discussion.

   Two. Hundred. dollars. To be told that I have a stupid virus...I walk out to pay the receptionist, literally fighting back tears at this colossal waste of money.  She looks up at me and says in her practiced and honeyed voice, I hope that he helped you. I give her a pointed look and say in a flat, emotionless voice, He told me to drink hot water with honey in it.  

   And I promptly leave the room.  

back to work

   Kristine Urich sounded real pretty tonight. 

   And by real pretty, I mean off-key and hoarse.  Um, nice.

    I guess last night really took a toll on my voice; but I am so grateful that I had it last night that I don't mind so much that there's barely any left now.  I mean, if I had to choose one or the other, that's what I would have picked. Still, one of the things that has always been difficult for me to handle is a hoarse voice; it just irritates me so much to not be able to sing.  You know, simple melodies around the house, while just walking around, or um, while doing your job.  I love singing so much, that to not really be able to do it is very difficult psychologically, even.    

   But my friends on the line thought my voice sounded hilarious tonight.  My pitiful little rendition of Three Blind Mice and Jingle Bells inspired peels of laughter behind me.  Not to mention my bass voice as I sang shower.  

   Good stuff.  I really hope my voice feels better soon.  

   On a good note, Drew and I had such a fun time together these past three days.  I cannot stress how proud I am of him as he played last night; he's so talented, it's stupid.  I said good-bye to him, but it wasn't so bad as good-byes go since I will be seeing him Sunday when he picks me up at the good old Philly airport.  

    And I finally capitulated and gave in to the craze that has been sweeping our cast and read that book, Twilight. I uh, read it in one day.  It's that good of a read.  I am now onto the second book, New Moon, and I look forward to not talking the rest of the night and just diving deeper into that story.  Wow, I love a good book.  Also, this page-turner is a welcome change from the book I have been reading which literally chronicles Michelangelo frescoing the Sistine Chapel. Seriously. And it is text-book dry. No need to try to improve on that exciting story with narrative, character development, or anything close to exciting such as a protagonist, I suppose. Nope, just give the facts of how they made azure out of ground glass and that it was as costly as gold...Okay, so the book is boring, but honestly it is a little bit interesting.  

  Which is why I have continued to read it.  I mean, I wouldn't have known how they made the pigment azure, had I not read it, so there's that.  

   Right, but I am going to read now. And not about anybody frescoing anything, either.

yay--it went well!!!

    The benefit concert went great tonight.  I had a voice (thank you for your prayers!), it wasn't at its best, I suppose, but I am not about to get all overly critical on myself.  I sounded a little more like the raspy vocal stylings of Pink than normal, but oh well. The show was actually great fun, and dear Drew did just about everything but play the kazoo on stage.  

    Seriously, poor guy travels all the way up here and he instantly gets put to work.  He learned all 10 of Clyde's songs--not to mention some of the songs that he didn't know of mine.  He was great; it was so wonderful to be on stage with him. It makes a big difference, just having him nearby as I sing and play--especially when he lends his musical abilities to the mix.  

   Clyde sounded awesome, too.  You wouldn't have known that his band (Drew on bass, Rick on drums, and Clyde--as well as Colt and myself singing some background vocals) only rehearsed for the first time last night. Seriously, they rocked it.  

  And again, the music was for a good cause--people are going to be blessed and helped by the proceeds--so that's that.  

   And on a more personal note, there is nothing like performing music that comes from within.  It's a high unlike any other; a gutsy transparency that, once revealed, leaves you wondering how you could live without sharing your soul like that.  Without telling your story in melody, syntax, and chords.  It's truly amazing and I am changed because of it.

  Also, I really enjoy supporting somebody else's gig.  Like I already said, I did some BG vocals for Clyde's set, as well as played keys for one of his songs.  It is so fun to be a little left of the spotlight as well.  Not nearly as much of the pressure, but a ton of enjoyment in being a part of the band. 

   Anyway, tonight was amazing.  

  My voice hurts, as do my feet (heels, stupid, heels...).  I am so glad it's over and if my voice isn't very strong to play Kristine Urich tomorrow, well no big deal.  I don't know if you've heard, but she can't sing so well, anyway.    

please

   Hey guys.  I just wanted to say I appreciate all (or most, haha) of the comments I get here. I love the fact that you stop by and find what I write interesting at all.  Tonight, I would like to just ask for one thing: some good old fashioned prayers!!!

   I have a show tomorrow night of original music that I am doing for Broadway Cares/Equity Fights Aids and well, tonight I lost my voice.  So, I am not talking for the rest of the evening, resting up, steaming, eating chips, drinking tea, doing everything I can think of to get better naturally...But I need some supernatural help too.  I need to wake up tomorrow and be able to sing freely. 

   So, please say a prayer--or prayers--for me. Thanks!!!

first impressions

    Drew's here. I told him to meet me under the Christmas tree in the middle of Dundas Square. Just like a movie. And just like a movie, he was there, waiting for me after my show, with a huge bass guitar, a computer, and a tiny carry-on that looked like it fit about two pair of underwear and that's it.  It's amazing how little men can get by on.  

    We went to a diner for a late dinner and the waitress commented on all of Drew's stuff, saying, You sure don't travel light, huh? I thought about my myriad of bags, my huge roller suitcase, and my trunk that could fit Rhode Island inside and thought, You have no idea...

   We got home to an empty apartment, which was nice.  I had two shows worth of filth on me; Drew had only God knows what worth of filth on him...So, we decided to shower.  In this apartment, there has been an unlocked door policy in the bathroom, that way someone could use the toilet, brush their teeth or whatever, while someone else is showering. No big deal, right?

  But the open door policy wasn't exactly what I had in mind when Drew was with me. I'm just saying.

  Well, so we are showering and um, we hear this really loud knock on the door.  I hesitantly say, Uh, someone's in here (duh, they know that--because surprisingly enough the door was locked. Which is why they knocked.).

   Gabi says, I am sorry but there are a few of us and we really need to use the toilet.

   I say, ...Okay...Well, Drew's in here, too. 

   Silence.

    We think they leave...But then we hear one more slight knock.  It's Amos, one of the guys who has recently joined the tour.  He says, The others went downstairs, but well, I didn't and I do really need the toilet...

   I look at Drew, he says, No big deal, Jess, this curtain isn't going anywhere.

   Amos walks in. He uses the toilet. Drew and I are in the shower.  Amos tells Drew how happy he is to meet him, Drew reciprocates.  I try not to laugh because honestly, I never thought Drew would meet one of my friends this way. Ever.

  Fast-forward, Drew finally meets Amos face-to-face. He tells him that it is nice to put a face with the voice. We all laugh.  And that is how Drew met Amos and the toilet and the shower were the scenery.  Only on tour, I think.