On the road

So, I'm in Greeley, Colorado.

Um.

Before anything, I really need to get up to the drive across the Midwest. For someone who is terrible at planning ahead (ahem, 'in the past I have been bad about planning ahead') I was pretty effing ready to leave town, and not just emotionally. I don't know if it was that I have a friend's parents coming to stay in my place around her due date that made me get my act together or not, but I was on it.

I. Mopped. My. Kitchen. 'nuff said.

There is a weird melancholy that accompanies a gig on the road. It's been a while since I've done a show where I'm not going to work with 5 of my closest friends (I've been so lucky, that takes some time). On this gig, I know the director from regional and that's it. I'm the only Equity Guest Artist working with college students. It's really weird to leave town so you can do the one thing that makes you the happiest in the world and know that it affects absolutely no one's life back at home. Sure, I have friends that will miss me, but we can talk on the phone (when our schedules mesh) or email and maybe not see each other any less than we do when I'm in town. No one is directly affected by my being gone. I'm not complaining, just an observation.

Years ago, when I was doing a production of The Miracle Worker, one of the girls playing Helen asked me if I was married. When she found out I wasn't married or dating, she asked me if I got lonely. Whoof. No! No. No. Who needs real men when you can meet, fall in love with, and marry fake, gorgeous men on stage all the time. Puh-lease.

Plus the digressing.

So, I set out last Sunday from Omaha in the car my parents have graciously lent me since they're not in Nebraska at present. I was worried the Memorial Day traffic would be heavy, thinking, apparently, that I was in a highly populated area. It was fine.

I stopped a couple of hours later to get some food. I had been craving eggs and biscuits so stopped at a Petro truckstop that had a diner attached, an Iron Skillet. I passed on the terrifying buffet and ordered some standard breakfast fare. This is what I got:



Please click on this to zoom in. I really should have taken the photo before I removed the 4 TABLESPOONS of butter from the egg skillet. Note that the eggs are already swimming in butter. Holy Mary. I gained 4 pounds and 20 cholesterol points just being this close to this meal.

In case you're not getting the magnitude:


Four. And at least that much in each biscuit already. I ate the eggs and both biscuits and instantly felt hurl-a-riffic. Wow. There was also a smoking section in the restaurant. I didn't take a picture for fear of getting my ass kicked. I was way too cosmo in my tank top, cargo pants, and non-permed hair already. I ain't stupid.

The drive was largely non-eventful until I neared Greeley. A) no mountains to be seen from 50 minutes away; B) stockyards, and by that I mean a good 5-10 miles of stockyards like I've never seen or smelled before (and my air was on recirc). If I wasn't already mostly veg, that would have sent me that way in a hurry. I have never been so much about animal rights, but this is highly disturbing. An unfathomable amount of animals in shocking conditions. I can't even go into it.

So, it turns out Greeley is about 40 minutes from the actual mountains. Sigh. Ok. Apparently I'll be spending more gas money than anticipated. Housing is great. All is well.

Thus ends installment one. Tune in soon for stories of cast, rehearsals, and the supermarket.