Got Liberty?

The Week In Review aka Roundup of Mistakes I Routinely Make:
Items Broken: 1 shattered coffee carafe
Clothing Items Lost: ALMOST 1 pair of boot covers (returned at last minute by eagle-eyed crew member)
Falls: 1 Running during The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County. Opted not to stand up after I wiped out, but instead crawl offstage on all fours like an embarassed puppy. Probably was not the best decision.

At this point I've seen so much of Pennsylvania that I'm practically Amish. Or a cheesesteak. The good thing is, it just keeps getting better!

Yeah, Allentown is bleak and a HALF. Ugh at our first theatre, there was a double ramp load-in situation with a drunk crewmember at load-out. In all fairness, the seconde day in Allentown was much better. We played the Symphony Hall/Lyric Theater, which was really pretty, and the dressing room was on the same level as the stage which makes my life a lot easier. Plus it was one of our youngest (and by default, more attractive) crews, which I always enjoy. Yeah, yeah, I know I'm bad, but sue me - I'm 22, blonde, and a little bit shallow. More importantly than quasi-attractive crews (surprising how much cuter they get the longer we're on the road...), Frog is from right around there (like 20 min. away in a town known as East Stroudsburg), and on our second night in the Soviet Gulag of Allentown, he drove us away into the Poconos Mountains. And let me just say, it was BEAUTIFUL! Loves it, totally loves it. Frog took us to the Shawnee Playhouse, where he used to work. As we drove in, we passed a golf course - ah, just like home. Shawnee is a beautiful old inn with a golf course and a theatre nestled in among the mountains - it felt like White Christmas. We got to run around the theatre (fireplaces and timbered ceilings oh my!) and then walk to the cutest general store for delicious sandwich snacktime. It was all so picturesque and holiday spirity and I was just happy. Which is nice - that's not a sensation I enjoy offstage all that often. We then went to this crazy cave that has a cold draft due to some weird underground lake situation. It was cool - badumching! The evening finished off with meeting Frog's dogs and having dinner with his family (fun deliciousness.) It was just a great day.

Next stop on our Pennsylvania whirlwind was Philadelphia - city of brotherly love. Well, actually, we were staying in glamorous Fort Washington, but lucky for me, my 'rents were in town (to transport me to my sister's dance show), so I got to drive into the actual city.

I've never been to Philly. And let me tell you, my little history dork heart was pounding in perfect time with the overture to 1776. We saw the square with all the Continental Congress buildings, and the Liberty Bell, which was cool, although I really didn't get to fully appreciate all the Liberty Bell displays because I had to pee like a mofo and apparently, the right to pee is not inalienable, and all the bathrooms are in one bizarre freestanding bathroom complex which necessitated a dash accross the green. By far the best, though, was the Betsy Ross house. It's such a nice house and they did a great job restoring it and basically, I just live for that shit. History PLUS needlecrafts = excellent. Philly only got better, as I got to have dinner with a friend I've been in school with since 8th grade (yep, that includes highschool AND college.) And he's now teaching, which is funny, as he was a big part of my Social Studies experience too. Ha ha. It was really nice to see him, and to hear all about his school and life in the real world (you know, not alterna-tour-reality.) Although he didn't need to sound QUITE so astonished at the fact that I drive a truck...although really, only people who saw me go through the horrors of driving school really understand just how ludicrous it is that I drive a truck on major roads.

The show in Philly (ok, actually Glenside, which is a suburb) was just fine. The crew was awesome, which always helps. They had funny nicknames, like "Emo" and "Igz." I especially liked the dressing rooms, as they were cozy. Mine and other actress's said "Hospitality" on the door and was decorated with a sunflower theme, including several fake sunflower potted plant arrangements. Charming!

So my parents picked me up after the show and we drove to yet another town in PA, Lancaster, so see my little sister's dance show.

Ok, so I don't really like dance. There's no talking! I can handle a line of tappers. Or sailors doing highkicks. Or chorus girls in sequins. But I really, really don't like modern dance. I went to one modern dane show at school, and there was a giant bowl of pudding, and they all yelled "pudding pudding pudding pudding" and hopped around throwing pudding on themselves. Yeah...once was enough. I also have this weird prejudice against dancers, where I constantly judge/assume they're all shallow/stupid. I think it comes from back in my performance/competitive children's choir days, when we had to share adjoining dressing rooms with a dance troupe at the West Point Christmas Concert, and they were BEYOND obnoxious and moronic and stuck on themselves and mean to us and my two best friends (who were boy sopranos) and I HAAAAAATED them and made fun of them for being stupid behind their backs. And we were like in fourth grade - so I guess that left a mark at an early age.

So suffice it to say, I was a little apprehensive. The first piece, Coat of Arms, did not reassure me. There were like 30 people running around putting coats off and on. Grrreeeat. The second piece was a girl doing a monologue about her heart stopping and hopping around. I always feel vaguely uncomfortable when dancers incorporate some sort of spoken word poetry/attempt to act. I imagine it is much like a dancer would feel watching me try to half-ass waltz/stumble my way through The Necklace. And then, the lights went out, and came up again, and there was my sister, looking absolutely stunning in her black leotard and pink shiny skirt and expertly applied stage makeup! (hmm, I wonder what talented girl did that for her...)

I think the last time I saw my sister dance, she was twirling around dressed like a pumpkin singing "nothing fills my tummy like pumpkin pie!" Boy, has she improved. As in, she is now really good. Like really, really good. And who would have thought it - we struggled through Miss Susan's dance school together, and it didn't look like either of us had a particular aptitude for dance. I spent all my time singing along to "Peppermint Candy Canes Are We" at the top of my lungs until a crew guy said "man, that kid can yell" and I was told to tone it down. Sister spent all of her time looking at the girl next to her to copy the moves, or if she was particularly unhappy, i.e. wearing a bow tied-barber shop quartet looking leotard, folding her arms, glaring, and refusing to do anything.

But there was no trace of that unhappy 4 year old monster tonight. The ballet was absolutely beautiful (it was a recreation of a Dorothy Humphries or something like that, which is apparently kind of a big deal), and I couldn't believe that leaping, long-armed graceful twirler up there was MY SISTER! I was so proud. During the bows, I yelled really loudly - as always, my one contribution to the danse.

Alas, that was not the last piece. The finale was a representation of plate tectontics through dance. A horde of girls in brown bodysuits with aborigine looking white stripes painted on them crawled accross the stage like they were in the trenches or something. They formed a Pangea like clump. There were lots of weird jerky movements. The knelt. They stood. They bopped around. They rolled and crawled. At one point it looked kind of like a rave full of white girl aborigines on coke. I don't know what was going on, man.

Next stop: Amish Country and Hershey Park. I wasn't kidding about seeing all of Pennsylvania...