North Carolina Part III

My summer trying to solve history's greatest mystery and looking for Blackbeard's buried treasure is quickly coming to a close. We have 28 performances left of a 72 show run and only 8 shows left of Puss in Boots, the children's show I've been working on. As is to be expected, the summer flew by. I've managed to meet a lot of great people and have some wonderful experiences in North Carolina. I went to the Aquarium, toured the Elizabethan Gardens, walked out on Bebop's pier, spent a few great Sundays at the Comfort Inn Beach, gotten into plenty of trouble in the Grove and had a blast the whole time. I still have a lot of things to accomplish in the next month, but I'm more than ready for it.

This past weekend, I went to Ocracoke Island with a few friends. It's about 2 hours south of Manteo. We stopped at the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse for a bit and fed some very friendly turtles. Then we hopped onto a ferry to tiny Ocracoke. Lunch was mussels and calamari at Howard's Pub and then I spent two hours collecting shells on the beach. The best part about Ocracoke was that there weren't very many people around. You could look down the beach and not see a single person. I came home with a handful of shells to commemorate my trip and some lovely memories of sea air and sand between my toes.

I never thought I'd like the beach because I've never been drawn to it. Missouri girls don't know much about beaches, but I've grown to love my Sundays on the beach, whichever beach I can find. There is something so soothing about listening to the water. My favorite time to go the beach is late at night when you can look up and see the stars and listen to the water gently lapping at your feet. I highly recommend it.

As the summer draws to a close, I'm getting nervous about moving to Connecticut, but I'm also excited for a new adventure. I still have to go kayaking, see the wild horses at Corolla and tour the shipwreck museum, oh and find some treasure. Here's hoping I get it all done in time!

North Carolina Part II

Now that we’ve all had time to recover from that insanely long entry, I’m going to treat you with a short one.

Where did I leave off?

Oh yes, Roanoke Island: home of history’s greatest mystery and more recently, Paul Green’s symphonic drama The Lost Colony, which is what brings me here.

          I arrived on the afternoon of Monday, May 6 and moved into my new home for the next four months. Morrison Grove is a collection of simple cabin apartments to be shared by four roommates. Each apartment has a porch, a sizable living room, a dining room connected to a tiny kitchen, two bedrooms and a bathroom. It’s not the Ritz; think of it more like theater summer camp for adults. My “cabin” is designated as the “quiet housing” which means that it is further off in the woods, set back from the main compound and the perfect location for a horror movie. As a member of the production staff, I arrived one week before the vast majority of the company and found myself entirely alone in this cabin and worried about murderers jumping out of the woods to behead me. Fortunately, that did not happen. I spent Monday and Tuesday getting settled in and meeting a few members of the production staff (all of whom are great people!) and fully believe in the idea of “work hard, play hard.” During prep week, which is what we call the week before rehearsal begins because it’s a time for preparation, I got to know the Production Stage Manager and my co-ASM. The three of us work together really well and have already developed a great dynamic and just sort of naturally fell into our respective roles. It’s going to be a great summer working with them. Yesterday was Day One for the entire company and consisted of a welcome breakfast, understudy auditions, combat auditions, work calls, a read through and a late night. It went very smoothly and if it is any indication of how the rest of the rehearsal process will be, I think it’s going to be wonderful. On a side note, I now have all of the names of everyone in the company memorized and as a stage manager that is impressive and extremely helpful. But I digress.

            Last night after a full 15-hour day, the SM team had to walk through the woods back to the production office with no light and it was terrifying. Walking through haunted woods in the dark may be the only downside to working here. Now, we've begun standard days of rehearsal during which choir, dancers, principals and actor/technicians are separated during the day and then brought back together for a full company evening rehearsal.

            It’s good to be me, living the dream. Thanks for checking in. 

North Carolina Part I

Those of you reading this may or may not know the following pertinent information about my life and recent events: I quit my job at Barnes and Noble in Columbia because I was offered a summer ASM position with The Lost Colony in North Carolina. Quickly following that development I was offered a two year contract to work as a PA (Production Assistant) with Hartford Stage in Connecticut. Two supremely huge happenings, right? You’d think I would have blogged about them before now, when I’ve already been in NC for a week. Well, friends, I have tried to blog it out several times but the town I’m living in, Manteo (pronounced Manny-O; apologies to those of you I told when I thought it was pronounced Man-tay-O.) is the picture of American small town life. You can cross the entire town in under 5 minutes, the library is only one room and Wi-Fi is scarce. In fact, I’m typing this blog in Microsoft Word first and then I’m going to paste in into the blog page because I’m usually only in a room with Internet access for a few hours a day and 100% of that time is spent working on something else. Such is life, I suppose. I suffer for my art and if what suffers most is the blog, then so be it.

First things first: I left Columbia on the morning of May 4 with all of my worldly possessions (that would fit) crammed into my car and started the 18-hour solo drive across the Eastern half of the United States bound for a city I couldn’t pronounce in a state I’d never set foot in. As many of you know, I’m somewhat of a “world traveler,” at least as far as my family is concerned. I moved away to go to college, I moved farther away to work while I was in college, moved even father away after college and then wound up back at home. Even with all of my travels and a strong inclination toward a nomadic existence, leaving home this time was hard. It wasn’t just the fact that my car was weighed down by so much stuff that the wheel wells were rubbing on the tires, it was looking at my family and knowing that this time was different and things will never be the same. I can’t quite explain it, but it goes something like this: every other time I’ve left home it was with a clear return date in mind with multiple visits planned for the near future. In college there were breaks from school and if anything really terrible happened (which it did), I could get home in less than two hours. When I lived in Iowa, it was only for two months and by that time I was confident in my ability to survive on my own in Missouri’s hat, plus I was with friends from school. Then, after graduation, I thought I was really ambitious by moving to Minnesota, a staggering 8-hour trip from my nearest relatives. But, just as before, I was only planning on staying for 4 months. When my contract was extended to 9 months, I think it was the beginning of a permanent transition from being based in Missouri to being truly on my own and away from my family. Last year, when all of that was happening, I rebelled at the thought of true independence and ran like crazy back into the comforting routine of central MO. My year-long diversion where I tried such things as working at a bookstore, testing out graduate school, volunteering as a designer for a church and living with my brother and his cat was well-timed and absolutely necessary. I don’t think I was ready to officially leave my comfort zone, but when these two opportunities presented themselves I felt like it was a sign and the chance I had been waiting for, because honestly you can only avoid breaking out into the world for so long. Even so, it was tough to drive away on a cloudy Saturday morning while my parents fought to hold back tears and I fought (and failed) to do the same. For the first hour of my drive I kept thinking, “You can turn around right now and go home and no one will judge you for it,” and “Maybe there is something closer to home, I haven’t explored all of my options,” but the most prevailing thought of all, the thought that rode in the passenger seat with my all the way to North Carolina was this: “My family will always be there for me. I am lucky to have a rock solid foundation and a place to call home so that I can step daringly into the world knowing that win or lose I will always be loved and if I don’t take this chance now, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.” And I thought back to my last looks out the window at my parents and remembered how strong they were for me. Neither of them wanted me to leave: my mom didn’t want to lose her almost daily call at work and my dad didn’t want to lose his Duck Dynasty watch buddy, but they both understood (and so did I) that I was meant to go out into the world and experience it and they continually support my dreams, even if that means smiling as I drove away.

             I don’t know what it is about crossing a state line, but it’s like a reset. New state, new attitude. When I crossed the river into East St. Louis, Illinois I was finished being sad about leaving my family and fully engrossed in a feeling of excitement about the adventures to come. There isn’t much to report about day one of driving because that’s all it was, lots and lots of driving and then some more driving. I went from Columbia, Missouri to Huntington, West Virginia. Five states in one day is my record and probably my limit, especially if I’m driving alone. I cranked up the radio to keep myself entertained and when I rolled through Kentucky I switched to AM and listened to the full coverage of the Kentucky Derby. It took a fair share of willpower to keep myself from driving to Churchill Downs just to catch some of the action. Night one was a uneventful as day one because all I did was get to my room and relax and sleep. I had originally planned to Couchsurf my way to NC, but upon the insistence of my grandmother, I opted for hotel rooms to minimize my risk of being hacked into pieces by a machete-wielding madman/rapist. In the end, she was right because I was much more comfortable in a locked hotel room than I would have been on a stranger’s couch. On the second day I drove across the entire length of West Virginia and on through to the southeast corner of Virginia to Chesapeake. The last time I drove through the mountains was a family trip to South Dakota where all of the mountains looked like “just a bunch of rocks” according to pre-teen Amy, but as an adult I can appreciate the beauty of the Smoky Mountains and the Appalachian Mountains. It was hours of gorgeous scenery and mildly terrifying steep highways plunging me down, down, down to the coast. It never occurred to me that the difference in elevation would be so great, but my ears popped on several occasions and gum was my only source of relief. Somewhere in the middle of West Virginia I came upon a toll road (my first!) and shortly thereafter was in desperate need of a gas station so I pulled into Gary’s Sunoco right off of the highway and after filling up my tank, walked across the gravel lot, stepped over a sleeping dog, entered the station, noticed that both bathrooms were out of order, promptly paid for my gas and high-tailed it out of there. When I arrived in Virginia, my GPS led me to a gas station right outside of Busch Gardens and very near Colonial Williamsburg, so even though I’ve never been to those tourist attractions properly, I can at least say I’ve seen them. Before I reached my hotel, I caught my first glimpse of water and promptly freaked out. The ocean is not new to me, but experiencing it like this is. Plus, it meant that I couldn’t go any farther east unless I rented a sailboat and that indicated that I was closer than ever to my ultimate destination. I saw seagulls and yachts and bridges galore and even drove through an underwater tunnel. I sort of wish there had been a bridge because I was mesmerized by the water and was a bit perturbed when I realized I wouldn’t be able to look at while I was underneath it. I soon resurfaced and once again found myself lounging in a comfortable hotel, relaxing and preparing for day three of driving.

            Fortunately, I planned ahead and day three consisted of only two hours on the road, which was about all I could take. I drove out of Virginia and into North Carolina and through a bunch of little towns until I found myself driving along the Whalebone. The Whalebone is the land that sits out in the ocean and runs nearly parallel to the coast of mainland North Carolina. Between the Whalebone and the mainland is Roanoke Island, home of the Lost Colony and birthplace of Virginia Dare, the first English child born in the New World. This place is lousy with history. I’m sure the world Roanoke set off a little buzzer in the back of your mind sending you back to fifth grade when you learned about Sir Walter Raleigh and his lost settlement of Roanoke. Well, this is that place.

            Clearly, I underestimated the amount of blogging I had to blog so I’m going to pause here for a moment and update later in the week. Thanks for your support and encouragement and thanks for reading. 

I'm Writing this Post Instead of a Paper

I'm a terrible blogger. It's funny how life can get away from you so quickly, but alas it does and then seven months go by like the blink of an eye.

As I compartmentalize my life, so I shall do the same with my entry. Sometimes I look at the parts of my day and think that I must be crazy and then I realize -duh- I am crazy.

1. The last entry I made (in June, embarrassing) was about my new job at the bookstore. I started as a general bookseller and specialized in Nook sales and support and each day was an education. Everyone should work retail at some point in their life. It's illuminating to say the least. Thank goodness I started in the summer, because if I had been hired in October or later, I never would have been able to survive the holidays. Pure insanity, and I didn't even have to work on Black Friday. Miraculously, the holidays ended (but the world didn't) and once again we are back to a normal amount of business. At the beginning of the year, I switched departments within the store and and became a Shelver. Now, I show up at work at 7 am (a bloody miracle) and shelve books for a few hours.

2. When I started at the bookstore I was working at a local church as a lighting designer and I had just been admitted to MU's grad school. The church lighting work had to be put on the back burner as I attempted to be a successful graduate student. Looking back on it, I think the best term for my stint at MU is an "educational detour." There's nothing wrong with grad school (in theory), but my personal experience reads like something out of a horror story. I was taking two classes and stage managing one show in the fall semester and was doing great balancing everything, but it just wasn't right. I was admitted as a post-baccalaureate non-degree seeking student and intended to submit my application to the department at the end of the fall semester, but couldn't bring myself to do it when the time came. I will definitely pursue graduate school later in life, but not at MU. If you're considering going to school there, don't ask for my recommendation, 'cause you won't like what I have to say. Basically, I paid a ton of money to SM a show and all I got was a glass unicorn.

3. I "started" my own business. I've been a pet sitter in Columbia for years, but I thought I'd better make it more official. My schedule was full of sitting appointments, so I made a website and all that jazz. It's a pretty steady line of work and perfect as a supplement to all of my other activities/jobs.

4. In September, I moved in with my brother. It's surprisingly awesome. We get along really well and after the initial adjustment period, we are in a good rhythm with each other. He's teaching me how to be more domestic and imparting his wisdom about loading the dishwasher and baking leftover pizza. It's a lot of fun and conveniently only three minutes from work.

5. Right before the end of the year, I got a call from the production manager/artistic director of a local theater company asking if I would like to stage manage an upcoming musical and of course I said YES!

Turn the corner to the beginning of this year. 2013: No longer in grad school (that was a bust). Working at the bookstore and looking for another theater job out of state. Pet sitting all over town.

6. That SM job from #5 has begun and I'm having a blast. It's Terrence McNally's A Man of No Importance which opens February 21 and will be followed by rep performances of two other shows that I've also signed on to SM (Personals and Singlemarriedgirl). That get's me through March and after that I'll really be itching to get out of Dodge for awhile.

7. I'm still dealing with residual classwork from my foray into grad school, but at the end of the month I'm finished with that business and can hopefully erase it from my memory.

8. That church I was working for? Well, my cousin is getting married there in March and I'm hoping to help out with the lights for the ceremony and then get back into designing lights for their services regularly. It was such a cool job with a great group of people, and now that my bookstore schedule is set, I can finally plan some sort of social life (as long as it's before 9 pm- my new bedtime).

9. Yesterday, my dad had bilateral knee replacement. His knees had been bothering him for years and it finally got so bad that he agreed to have them replaced. Waiting for the surgery was torture and today was a VERY long day, but he survived the surgery and the doctor said it went very well, so now we are at the beginning of what is sure to be an arduous recovery process. In the end, it will all be worth it and I'm glad that we've made it over the first hump. He had a ton of visitors today and it's great to see how much his friends and co-workers love him. Hopefully, being surrounded by so many people who care is going to make this process so much easier for him. Tomorrow, he takes his first steps as the bionic man. He's expected to go home on Saturday and then has six weeks of recovery and physical therapy to look forward to.

10. I need a tenth thing to talk about because I can't just leave it at nine, but what? Oh, how about this? We got a cat. Her name is Fiona and she's a former farm cat from my parent's house. She was getting picked on by our other outdoor cats, so we brought her to town and now she's the queen of her domain. It was a bit of an adjustment for her to switch gears as an entirely indoor cat. On her first day she peed on my bed (she's lucky she survived that ordeal). Now she's very politely using her litter box and she's spoiled rotten.

Phew, made it to 10.