Rainy Travel

Writing has not been my strong point while working at the Dallas Opera. This particular show kicked me in the butt harder than I've been kicked in quite some time. I came here thinking that this show would be a bit of a breeze and I would get all sorts of stuff done in the meantime. Truly not so...I've been playing catch-up since we opened and now I'm sitting at DFW, waiting for a delayed flight (no explanation...just delayed), and thinking about the fact that I have to go into work tomorrow to a brand new job and I feel totally and utterly unprepared (I'm sure that's not the case...but I'm a preplanner. I get sick if I'm not 15 minutes early and if the check's not in the mail a week before the due date).

The good thing is that I'm going home and if this plane isn't delayed further I'll actually be home early enough today to get my ducks in a row before making my first entrance at San Diego Opera tomorrow. We start prep for a stint of five operas in a row. I need to feel confident with all five scores before the first rehearsal because once we start it's like a downhill soapbox race: there's no stopping us until we hit the hay bales at the bottom.

Despite any stresses I've experienced in Dallas, we had a very good closing last night. Quite a few pranks and loose ad-libbing, but my director seemed pleased as punch that the cast was relaxed enough with each other to dive into the unknown in such a way on stage. I never watch final performances because I know what happensk when there's no recourse. I was a performer for years and did my share of onstage pranks...was also the butt of many jokes as well. I've been part and parcel to many a "let's see if we can make so-and-so bust up in the middle of this really serious scene" schemes and I've added a little something-something to quite a few closing nights. One of my favorites was my Junior year of high school. I was a dancer in "Hello Dolly" and our little group of dancing waitresses chose to wear racy garter belts underneath our circle skirts. We gave all of the geeky band boys in the pit quite a show.

Of course I wrestle with how much to frown upon now that I'm in a position of authority. I try to keep a straight face and discourage bad behavior, but the performer inside knows how hard it is to keep enthusiasm and wish I could be out there too, yucking it up.

Boarding soon. Maybe someday I'll get back to regular writing.

The Stars at Night are Big and Bright!

I arrived in Dallas, Texas this evening. Earlier than I thought actually. The flight I was supposed to be on was hopelessly delayed so they shoved me into an earlier flight. I crossed the arid Southwest in the early afternoon and touched down at DFW somewhere around 6pm. I was glad to get in earlier. The more time I have to settle in, the more comfortable I feel when I wake up and start working the next morning.

The flight was pretty smooth. Arriving in Dallas was a little rockier. Because I was early and couldn't get ahold of anyone at the opera, I ended up, somewhat grudgingly, taking a cab after standing on the curb in a state of semi-disorientation. It's so odd to drive through a completely foreign terrain in the back of a taxi. No matter how many times you've looked at a map, the streets still wind in confusing patterns and all of the directions seem to get switched around. Fortunately, all Midwestern cities hold similarities. We passed strip malls galore, churches, and the "President George Bush Expressway" before finally arriving at my corporate housing. Actually...we didn't even arrive there. We arrived at the apartment building next door. The robust cab driver pulled my three immensely heavy bags out of the trunk, left them in the doorway and drove off. As I watched him go, my eyes dropped down and I noticed the door mat with a completely different name than what I was expecting.

A little old man hobbled towards me with his walker and pushed the handicapped button on the side of the door. As he passed I said "I think I'm in the wrong place," asking him where my hotel might be. "Oh dear, you are in the wrong place," he eked out. "This is an apartment complex. You want to be next door." He hobbled past me pointing and I looked up the hill to the big hotel sign, then grudgingly lugged my 100 pounds of luggage down the street. Everything else had been so smooth and quick. My two bags were even the first ones out at baggage claim. Ultimately it's just not possible for me to have a smooth traveling experience. I've accepted this every time I travel. It gets exhausting.

So finally after a long, disjointed day of travel, a Cuban sandwich and a beer at Cheesecake Factory, and a somewhat delirious shopping trip to the local grocery store, I'm settled in and unpacked and sitting on my couch in my great little apartment. My bag is packed for the morning, my coffee's ready to brew and all of my papers are in order.

Let's get this show on the road.

Back in the Sticks

This was me this afternoon on the floor of the Delta Terminal at JFK International Airport. My Balducci's dinner as people stepped over me to crowd into their numerous commuter flights all leaving out of the same gate.

I've never seen so much mayhem. Thank god I had a good book and my Pom Blackberry Tea and a little Caprese...

Though it did get worse. I was on the smallest prop plane in the history of commercial prop planes, and after landing in Albany, I found out that they removed one of my bags from the hold for weight restrictions. As of right now at 11:32 in the evening, they cannot find said bag and I have no underwear, one pair of pants a few t-shirts and some flip flops to wear to my first day on the job (no deoderant, no toothpaste...) Delta airlines was all very nonchalant about the whole thing as if this happens all the time. They told me that bags get removed all the time without the customer being told and it would probably show up on the next flight from JFK in five hours . . . "we'll bring it to you."

Cold comfort when I have nothing to change into and no tennis shoes (and no underwear for god sakes). Ah well, it's the price you pay for air travel. This isn't the first time my bags have been lost to the black hole of checked luggage. Wanna take bets on how long it will take to recover?

So, the picture above is where I was yesterday. With my husband on Coronado Island, enjoying a birthday dinner at Peohe's. This pic was taken with my brand new camera - a gift from John. It was the most perfect day; a great way to end a month together. I see him again in six weeks.

Okay. Bed. More on my crazy old-fashioned house and life in Richfield Springs soon. (This year I have high speed internet in my HOUSE and can WALK to a convenience store!!!)