Ah...the Peter Pan life.

Oh hello. It really has been a while.

My lousy computer – it’s all her fault, I swear…she did make me spill that Vitamin Water on her…and force me to melt her keys with my hairdryer…  It is her that has prohibited me from updating you all on my fabulous gypsy life as of late.  But, she seems to be having a moment of empathy, and she is momentarily refraining from inserting backslashes after every letter I type, so I’m taking advantage of the moment.

In the last two weeks, I’ve been to ten different states.  (Yes, Zach, it really is all relative in West Virginia.)  And, in the last five weeks, I’ve spent more time in flyover territory than I had cumulatively spent in the rest of my life.

My milestones have been:  I saw my first beaver.  He was a cute fellow on the side of the road in Michigan, which, by the way, happened to be 90 degrees in March (maybe Al Gore is onto something – besides recognizing just how cool 30 Rock is).  Also, I was given a sign name.  A sign name, unlike your high school Spanish name (mine was Chalupa), can only be given to you by a deaf person.  It takes a while for them to decide, because a lot of it comes from your personality.  Mine came from the fact that I always wear dresses.  Figures.  Not enough personality there.  Well, there was another suggestion that floated around, but it bore a striking resemblance to a word that in English rhymes with witch, so I’ll take the dress-wearing gift of a name and wear it proudly.

One thing that’s begun to concern me as I prepare to reenter real life for a brief hiatus is that I may have picked up some habits that in the hearing world might be taken the wrong way.  Never mind that I now always sign to waiters and waitresses while ordering whatever looks tasty at whichever rest stop I happen to be visiting (yes, my life is also teetering a little too close to the trucker lifestyle at the moment).  But, I now also wave my hands in front of people’s faces to get their attention.  This is common practice in the deaf world.  Contrary to popular belief, yelling or speaking at a higher decibel does not get their attention faster.  Also, beware future husband, as I’ve now become accustomed to making as much noise as I darned well please in the morning, dropping things for the pure joy of it and singing at the top of my lungs in the shower.

And, thus concludes today’s update.  Thank you, computer, for cooperating for the first time in ages.  You have my sincerest gratitude.

Also, parents, don’t worry too much about the Al Gore comment.  I’ve become quite accustomed to the sweet tea drinking, BBQ eating, confederate flag wielding South as of late to cause too much concern in regards to my politics.

I’m not fired! (knock on wood)

Two weeks down!  Apologies for the lack in updating you all on my fabulous life as of late.  I’ve been working my tail off in the ASL department, and I’m finally fairly certain that I will not be fired for my infinite lack of knowledge.  Lines are memorized (in both languages!), show is blocked, and the next week will be spent cleaning everything up and adding in all the costume changes and such (I think I’ll have somewhere around 7 changes…in a show that’s supposed to run less than an hour).  After that, we hit the road and do our darndest to rile children up by the masses (think chase scenes and teasing grown ups). 

My life truly has been consumed by rehearsals, so there’s not a whole lot else of note.  But, I did have a chance to visit what I presume to be Cleveland’s only claim to fame:  the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (oh look…fame’s even in the title).  ‘Twas swell.

Hopefully my life will be filled with more adventures on the road, or else I won’t blame you all when you seek entertainment elsewhere.  That said, I must assure you that I am still as enthralling and captivating as always – perhaps I should just refrain from the morning blog.  

It’s a quiet thing.

I have arrived in Ohio – my home for the next three weeks as I desperately try to brush up my sign language, lest I be subject to three months of loneliness.  I hope this immersion thing works…

At the moment, there’s not much else to report.  Rehearsals start tomorrow, and I’m staying with the one other female cast member at an extended stay in Akron.  It’s a pretty quiet room.

And thus, the adventure begins!

Oops!

My poor new employers.  Today I received this email:

“Benton,  I rec’d your contract and you missed one question on the contract.  I have copied in below, please reply with your answer.  

15.              ARRESTS

Employee agrees to disclose below any arrests or warrants, including DUI, DWI or warrants for arrest.  Failure to do so may result in immediate dismissal.  If Employee has no arrests, then write “None” on the line provided.                                                  _                                                                     __”

My bad.  I could have forgotten to fill in any section…but it had to be this one.  Never fear, new boss.  While I may have had a run-in or two with some spandex clad (though car-driving) cops at one time or another, I assure you my record is spotless.

At least we know I have my priorities straight.

I cried in only two of the three bridal salons I visited this week.  Darn you theatre ‘get in touch with your emotions’ training.  I used to be a rock, I tell you.  A ROCK.

My mom came into town to spend a few days of fun in NYC while we were sure to find ‘the dress.’  And, as our time in the bridal salons has quickly come to an end, I fear I may be losing my title of ‘Daughter of the Year.’  I have not yet crossed the threshold of ‘bridezilla,’ but I have come dangerously close to the girl to whom you speak in soothing tones while secretly ringing the buzzer that signals the white-coated figures to administer some high doses of sedatives.

I may have found ‘the dress,’ and I may not have…it was very well one of the first ones I tried on, but of course committing to that would be a step too big for this nervous wreck to take at this moment in time.  After all, making the wrong decision would ruin the wedding…right?

Another note for any of you giving second thought to attending a Bridal Expo in NYC: STAY THE HELL AWAY.  It’s like the bridal ghetto.  Unless you want to make a haul in diamonds by standing up the place, run in the opposite direction.

However, what I’ve learned from all this is quite revealing.  While I’ve come dangerously close to calling off the wedding and making a mad dash to City Hall with Mr. B, I’ve never once doubted that I want to spend my life with him.  I get to marry my best friend in October, so this privileged white girl really ought not complain.  However, she just might raid your Valium stash, so beware.

Procrastination

I used to think I didn’t pride myself on my procrastination.  Then, however, it occurred to me that I am a MASTER procrastinator: I should certainly be proud.  In fact, I’ll bet if I put my mind to it, I could be one of best, if not the best, procrastinators who ever was.  So, in honor of my newly defined skill, I’ll let you in on the secret of what I should be doing.  And, all the while I shall be enjoying the fact that by telling you, I’m procrastinating like a champ.

I should be practicing my sign language.  Why, you ask?  In what I can only assume was God needing a good chuckle, I was recently cast in my first national tour.  Why should this cause the Almighty to chortle?  Well, my friends, this is an all sign language tour:  as in, half the cast is deaf.  When initially called in for the audition, I thought to myself:  I studied sign language in college.  I’d love to do a musical wherein I get to sing while possibly doing a basic sign here or there to tie in with the rest of the show!  But, no.  This is no musical.  This is an hour-long rendition of Stuart Little performed entirely in sign language. 

I tried not to panic at first.  I thought to myself, I can totally brush up my sign language and be fine.  But then there’s the added bonus of speaking while using my hands to speak in another language with an entirely different grammatical structure.  You know the whole rub your stomach while patting your head nonsense?  Child’s play.

All jokes aside, however, I’m super excited.  It’s an amazing opportunity – and I get to see a lot of the country to boot!

So, in the next four months, if you happen to be in Ohio, Michigan, New York, Virginia, North Carolina, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Iowa, Minnesota, Texas, Colorado, Montana, Wyoming, New Mexico, California, Oregon or Washington, let me know!  (I’ll be sitting at the silent table with lots of gesticulating.)

Now, seriously, I need to get to work.