(written en route to) Cleveland, OH

Right now, we're on I-80 somewhere in Illinois. We're just past where you'd head north to go to Chicago on 95. Greg is driving (lord, help us) and listening to "Dirty Rotten Scoundrels: the musical". Lunch at Bob Evan's... Paul ordered biscuits and a bowl -- yes, a BOWL -- of sausage gravy. It made me feel all weird and wiggly inside... not in a good way, either. I averted my eyes. I told him this morning, (as he purchased five Krispy Kreme donuts at the Largest Truckstop in the World) that no one would ever look at him and think he eats the way he does. Unless they watched him do ten shows a week, like we do -- trust me, he sweats more and works harder than most NHL forwards.

Well, dear readers, as our tour comes to a close, I just wanted to say "thanks" for being out there. It's been awesome to think that someone (other than my mom and dad) can stomach my pathetic attempts at word-herding, sometimes as often as twice a week. Makes a girl's heart sing. We still have shows in NY/NJ until June, and perhaps I'll keep writing until the bitter end. But just in case I lose the mojo, I just wanted to say... thanks fer readin'. Without you guys, I'm just some crazy bitch out in the middle of nowhere writing nonsense, then hitting "publish" every ten seconds.

We drove past both Brooklyn, Iowa AND Brooklyn, Ohio today. Oh, Midwest... how you TEASE me...

We'll be in New York SO SOON!

(written en route to ) Des Moines, IA

Our last on-the-Road show was this morning in North Platte, NE. It was one of those old theatres, Paul remarked, where you can actually imagine Gypsy Rose Lee making her way down the narrow, steep stairs leading from the dressing room onto the stage. Built in the 20's, it really did feel like there were ghosts in the rafters.

The staff at this theatre were all very... hm... how do I say this? Very Nebraskan. "Bob", the tech director, looked to be about 60, and probably German-American. With his midwestern twang, blond hair and honest, good-natured face, you wondered if he'd ever even stepped foot out of Nebraska. There was also an elderly fellow who programed the lights for us. Good thing we only have two light cues in the show, as he looked as though he might teeter over from exhaustion if he took one too many trips to the light booth.

The women who worked there (house manager, program manager ushers, etc) were of similar stock; honest and round faces, equally round and arthritic hips, eager to chat, and curious about our tour and the outside world. They seemed a bit out of place, in a theatre.. but perhaps the job has it's perks. It probably certainly entails a few more pot-lucks and cookie-swaps than, say, working at Wal-Mart.

Then there was Luis, our mostly-Spanish-speaking stage hand. He was so eager to get the job done, that he often cut in front of one of us to pull something out of the van. Sometimes, he'd flat-out take something out of your hands, if you were taking more than 20 seconds in hoisting it. All the while, working with a fervent energy that bordered on mania. It took us a little while to get used to him, his style of working was so opposite to your run-of-the-mill stage hand, but I swear, he cut our load-out time by at least 15 minutes, today. Usually, there's a great deal of talking, coffee-drinking, donut-eating that goes on with venue-employed stage hands... IATSE obviously hasn't gotten to him, yet. "Pace yourself, Luis", they tell him, one day. "Have some coffee, relax, read the paper..."

By the by, totally off the subject, North Platte is one of those towns that Wal-Mart killed. The downtown, which once was probably filled with little mom-and-pop shops, was nearly desolate. Four square blocks, lots of storefronts empty, and from the looks of it, no "downtown renewal" plans in the works. It seems to me that the people really got a bum deal when Wal-Mart moved in. Man, I'd rather walk a quaint street and know the local business owners by name, or at least by sight, (and yes, have to visit two or three stores to get my shopping done!) ...than have one-stop shopping in a soul-less, florecent-lit, warehouse-style superchain, even if the stuff is "so much cheaper". But, hey -- I'm a Brooklyn-ite. That's how we roll. And none of this is news to anyone...

And now... we are driving through Nebraska. It's the plan to make it to Des Moines by 8:00, as LOST is new tonight. It'll put us ahead of schedule, which ROCKS because we are all eager to get home. HOME! What a word that is. Anglo-Saxon, I imagine. It sounds like what it is... like a reassuring, warm embrace.

Briana is currently driving, and we're listening to Pink Floyd's THE WALL. Gee, I wonder why people don't play this more often at parties? I mean, kid's birthdays, 60th anniversaries, or retirement banquets... or weddings! I mean, because it's so ... uplifting. No, in all seriousness, this is some of the best driving music ever written (and, frankly, writing-music). If you're heading out into the midwest, on I-80, best to have something musically complex and profound to feast your ears on; cause you can bet your ass, your eyes are gonna starve.

We just passed a sign that read, "Beaver Crossing, 1 mile".
Hey, don't forget us, Beaver Crossing, Nebraska. We're the ones who thought you were full of furry cuteness.

(written en route to)
Green River, UT

Finally, friends, the glorious interstate highway signs read,

"EAST"

We are on the way to Utah, heading southeast out of Idaho. We were in Twin Falls ID last night; home of a beautiful, vast canyon, where the Snake River runs through. It's impossible to think of the strength and power and volume of water must have once run through there, to create such a canyon. I didn't get to see Soshone Falls, which was about 5 miles away; but some of the guys went to see it last night, and said it was phenomenal.

The mountains here are beautiful, wetting the appetite for the Rockies. It'll be fun to see Paul desperately trying to take photos at every turn, thinking he's going to "miss it"... when, inevitably, every turn you make in the Rockies reveals another stunning vista, more majestic and awe-inspiring than the last.

Hopefully, too, if everyone agrees, we may be taking a small detour into Arches National Park, near Moab, UT. I'm dying for just an hour or two of hiking...

Lunch at Sizzler yesterday left something to be desired... but we did learn a valuable lesson: DON'T EAT AT SIZZLER. Even if your only other options are Wendy's and Taco Bell... it's just not something ya do. That place ain't right. Rivaled in awfulness only by this joint Warren and I wandered into in Denver, once, thinking we might find old-fashioned home-cooking... and instead they literally served canned "green" beans (brown, really, thank you very much) along side luke-warm instant mashed potatoes and something I don't want think about that I believe they touted as "meatloaf".

Now, I must draw your attention inward, dear reader... to the inside of this passenger van we've been driving around in for three months. Slowly, and selectively, we have amassed a collection of ...what-nots. Knick-knacks. Brick-a-brack. Flotsam, if you will. It's quite an impressive little collection that we shall be donating to the Smithsonian once the tour is over. So far, we have:

> Three miniature Curious George figurines (one is playing hula hoop; one is swinging from a tree-branch; and a third is dressed in a space-man outfit).

> A little asian baby (or Native American? tough to tell) in a plastic pink hooded onesie. With the help of a little knob on top of her hood, you can turn her face around from "sad" to "happy" to "angry"... it's brilliant.

> A green monkey --not George, but some cheap knock-off-- hanging upside down from the rear-view mirror.

> Martis Gras beads, naturally, also on the rear-view mirror.

> A miniature orange road-work cone; a warning, written on the side, reads: "CAUTION: CHAOS ZONE". I should take it for when I have kids...

> A miniature dream-catcher with what looks to be Bill Clinton in the center. Actually, it looks like... Tim says it's a cheap knock-off of a Jedi Knight (his light saber has been busted off, thus my confusion). Greg says that if Bill Clinton and Luke Skywalker had love child, that's what it would look like. But I digress...

> A Shakespeare finger-puppet, who's expression looks as if to say, "I'm not impressed, at all, with what you do..." --he's actually from my aunt, and he's going home with me at the end of the tour. And everything he says is in iambic pentameter.

> A grey, stuffed Armadillo (named Salvadore) that Laura got in Texas as a gift for someone, but decided to keep for herself.

Keep in mind, this is just what's on the dashboard. There are also stickers we've collected from elementary schools (of the "hello, my name is" variety), head-shops, and various roadside attractions. (Laura's favorite is "My other car is a piece of shit, too"). Laura also purchased mini-pillows for the bench-seats; they're not very servicable, but they do have embroidered sayings on them, like "Princess" and "High Maintenance". Also scattered about: a virtual sea of empty water bottles, gooey Drumstick wrappers, and a box of bandaids that exploded back in, oh, Waterville, Maine.

Basically, this van is a-rockin'. From the outside, it looks like an old, grey nothing, a Dodge prison van with enough miles on it to make a Volvo go "Damn!"... but inside... it's our little slice of heaven, our home away from home.

Aw, who am I kidding...?
NO SLEEP TILL BROOKLYN!!

Portland, OR

Our venue today in Salem OR -- the Elsinore Theatre -- was really awesome. First of all, it's an old vaudeville house (built in the 20's), but it was restored by this company out of New York that specializes in restoring old theaters. The dressing rooms were all renovated, too, so we weren't in some scabby dungeon.

As the name implies (Castle Elsinore, from "Hamlet"), the theatre is designed to look like a castle, complete with stained glass windows, arched doorways, windows and walkways, and medieval-looking light fixtures. There are beautiful murals painted everywhere of scenes from the Scottish Play, Romeo & Juliet, Tempest

The theatre also has a beautiful, big pipe organ, and as it turned out, the house manager also doubles as an organist. So during load-out, he fired up the organ and played us selections from "Phantom" (silly show, but perfect organ music) and "Star Wars"! It was so awesome; the sound was just phenomenal, and the organist was so pleased to show us all the bells and whistles (literally!) of the pipe organ. It's even hooked up to play a remote player piano! The organist's talents weren't just wasted on us -- they actually play a lot of silent movies, there, too.

Anyways, the drive up to Portland was uneventful; and THEN... we drove straight through the city of Portland to the north side... which is all rail yards, water treatment plants and the occasional sex shop. EW! We are at the sketchiest Travel Lodge in creation -- sorry, Lindsay, but it's true -- with no internet, no elevator, no fridge or microwave... basically, it's crap-TASTIC!

But, we only have one quick show tomorrow morning, and then we start the beautiful drive to Denver! We'll be going through some gorgeous areas (like Arches National Park)... and of course the Rockies, which, well... rock.

One thing at a time, though.
Portland, first.
...LIVE IN THE NOW!

(written en route to)
Eugene, OR

Fabulous time had by all, here in Ashland/Medford, OR. The venue in Medford was really nice; a great and helpful crew, they gave us snacks and juice and coffee; and as we were loading out, several cars stopped on the street to tell us how much they loved the show. It was like having groupies... without the sex, drugs, or rock-n-roll.

The motel, too, was really cool. While rustic and homey, they also had good internet access, microwave/fridge, and were very close to downtown, and next door to a health food store... if you're ever in Ashland OR, I highly recommend The Timbers Motel. Cheap, too.

But if you're here in Oregon, chances are you're here to enjoy the great outdoors, so you probably won't care what your motel is like. More good scenery as we pull out of Medford.

So, for those who are wondering... now that I have a battery that works in my laptop, I am more able to write blog entries... and as a result, I often will sit and stare at the screen for twenty minutes, thinking, "Don't waste battery power! Write something!" And, of course, nothing comes and I'm back to daydreaming.

"Welcome to the Jungle" is playing on the radio, which is just such a distinctly city-inspired song, so it feels weird to be listening to it with the beautiful Oregon mountains as a backdrop. Very incongruous.

Valley of the Rouge State Park, just passing the entrance to it. Looks glorious. Wish I could stop the caravan and get out and hike.

I just have to ask this... what, exactly, is it about putting large, white letters (single letters, like "R") on the tops of hillsides? All across the country, I've seen these. There's one in Golden, CO, as I recall -- an "M" I think? Here, about 5 miles shy of Grant's Pass, it's an "R". What is that about? If you took a satellite photo of the U.S., would all those big letters spell something? Probably something like "Christ Is Awesome!" or "Drink More Budweiser". Ah, the great mysteries of the American Road. (Maybe that's what it spells... "The American Road"... CHEEZY, but ultimately just as likely as any other possibility.)

More later...

(written en route to) Medford, OR

The scenery in northern California and Oregon is hard to beat. Snow-capped mountains, teal-green lakes, rushing rivers, against a backdrop of lush fur trees. It is a distinctly Northwestern scene, here today.

Greg reported on Chuck's tour, which is in Florida at the moment... apparently they were staying in a hotel that had a bar right next to their pool. Everyone (but me) groans with envy; but, seriously, if given the choice ... mountain-glory of Oregon, or the hot sun of Florida... I gotta say, this white-girl would pick Oregon any day. (Sorry, Florida. She's just not that into you.)

Greg, Patrick, Laura and I had some yummy beer and pizza/sandwiches at a great little joint in Ashland, OR. There's some good theatre, here, and so some peeps went in search of some culture: Greg's seeing TICK TICK BOOM at the Oregon Cabaret tonight; and Tim went to see something at Oregon Shakespeare this afternoon. Not to be outdone, Briana and I went to Blockbuster, popped some popcorn, and had a little movie-night in our room (A VERY LONG ENGAGEMENT -- hey, it was subtitled! That's culture!)

Today was just a travel day; and then only one show tomorrow. So, sort of a light weekend!

Looking forward to getting up a bit early tomorrow and exploring Ashland.

(entry written en route to) Stockton, CA

Well, kids... BACK TO THE SALT MINES!

Everyone has regrouped, and we're getting prepared for three more weeks of The Road. The break did wonders; all of us got to spend time with friends and/or family and/or lovers, which has lifted everyone's spirits. Morale is high, ladies and gents! Morale is high.

San Fran has been good to us. How can you go wrong, really, in the land of brown rice and coffee houses? Gay Pride flags fly everywhere, and women dress funkier and freer here than pretty much anywhere else I've ever travelled. There is a laid-back, party atmosphere, even on a work-day, and even on Easter Sunday. I spotted several "Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence" yesterday-- drag queens in their finest, with bearded and painted faces, roaming the streets after their yearly celebration of all things queer (and 'blasphemous')! It's a funny feeling, to feel at home someplace that's 3,000 miles away from where you began.

Tomorrow we have two shows in Stockton, and then I have no idea what happens next. Laura has all of our schedules with her!

Anyways, the drive up to Stockton, very beautiful. The bay, San Fran from a distance, the mountains, and blue sky... even the weather seems to have cleared up for us.

And in less than three weeks -- 19 days, actually-- we should be back in New York. Not the end of the contract, just the end of The Road. A lot of fun has been had, and no matter what, acting is ultimately what all of us really want to do. Sure, there have been tough spots, dark days. In every choice you make, there are sacrifices you have to live with, disappointments you didn't foresee... there are very few people who can say that everything in life lived up to their exact expectations. But it's the little bumps in the road, the little imperfections, that bring into sharp focus all that IS perfect in our lives.

Santa Clara, CA
I don't want to spend a bunch of time writing, today, as it is a DAY OFF (whoo-hoo!) ...but I did want to share with everyone where we performed yesterday:

http://www.villamontalvo.org/index.html

The grounds at Montalvo are just stunning, and it's a really interesting, amazing place with a rich history. No wing space in the Carriage Theatre... but... pshaw, who needs wing space?! Hard to complain when there are such beautiful surroundings.

When we go back (in a couple weeks), I'll try to get photos, and post them for you guys...