Up, up, and away!

I have arrived in London after a slightly inauspicious start to my trip. When I got to JKF yesterday afternoon (after squeaking in one more dance class at Alvin Ailey), I saw on the board that my flight had been cancelled. Bummer. So, after checking my EIGHTY pounds of luggage (much of that weight was gifts for people here... I hope!), I had a few extra hours of wandering the airport before I got on a later flight. I did, however, get to have a celebrity sighting in that time. I was sitting in the airport shuttle across from the British actor Dominic something (I saw him in The History Boys, but I know he's been in something more recently), who was on his cell phone complaining that his flight to London had been cancelled. (Somehow, I don't think he would have been sitting back in steerage with me.)

I checked out the old TWA terminal designed by Eero Saarinen (if you're from St. Louis or you do the puzzle a lot, you know who he is), then I killed an hour by slowly sipping a glass of wine at a lovely wine bar and doing the puzzle which I had saved. (Not sure if the wine made it easier or harder.) My flight was uneventful, but alas the audio didn't work on my little TV screen, so I watched, but didn't hear, most of the Sex in the City movie. Not surprisingly, it was actually remarkable easy to follow. (I could have just called Erin, my brother's girlfriend, to have her recite it to me.)

Now I am at my cousin's house in London, wrestling with staying awake, and the fact that some of the keys on the keyboard are in the wrong place. (Not sure why the @ and " needed to be reversed on this side of the pond.) Maybe it will all make sense after a nice nap. It is grey and rainy (it is England, after all), which is perfect sleeping weather.

My Gap Year has now begun for real!

Another Satuday night

Last night Tommy took Dickie and me (and a costume designer friend of his) to dinner in the swanky Trustees' Dining room at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. The food was yummy, the company fun, but the best part by far was leaving at 10:30 pm and walking through the museum alone. This picture is of me in the Great Hall of the Met. Not a view many get to see. Once again, thanks Tommy!

A Red Letter Day

Today I have discarded the scarlet A which has been emblazon upon my chest for the last 20 years. The shame, the humiliation, the sniggers in the locker room, being told “Hey buddy, you dropped your wallet.” No, more. Today I am putting away that scarlet A, and I am moving up to a B.

This morning, upon the recommendation of a number of theater-type people I know, I went to a shop called Bra Tenders. Yes, I went bra shopping. (To those of you for whom this is too much information, you can stop reading now, and my feelings won’t be hurt. Nothing can hurt my newly inflated feelings today!) I was in search of a strapless bra which, when I put it on under something slinky and tight (which I wear so often, you know) does not scream out “Hello, I am a bra on a woman with teeny tiny breasts who for some reason thinks she should actually wear a bra today.”

So I went into this place (after signing in at the front desk, being buzzed in at the door, and then told it is by appointment only. Woops! They helped me anyway), and told them what I was looking for. The woman eyeballed me and stated that I am a 34 B. B? B??! Really truly and seriously? Woo hoo! I feel like I just got a promotion (which I guess I did, in a way). It’s probably a fluke. I’m probably just having a good day today. (I did briefly wonder if I might be pregnant, but then remembered that, unless I am carrying the next incarnation of the Messiah, that just can’t be.) I probably ate too much hormone-injected chicken or eggs recently. But whatever the cause, I’m going with it while I can!

Truth be told, the bra that ended up working the best for me was an A cup, but she told me that I’m a large A or small B. Woo hoo, again! She then asked if I needed any ‘everyday’ bras, and I smiled and said that I really don’t wear them. I don’t need to. Although now that I’m a B cup, maybe I should.

Monday in NYC

I went over to Alvin Ailey this morning to take a class on Horton technique. Luckily I got there nice and early, so when I realized that every single person in the previous class was wearing a black leotard and black tights, I had time to nip back to Tommy's apartment and change out of my green top and black pants. I didn't want to stand out more than I knew I already would!

The class was good, although I did have a moment right before it started of wondering "What am I doing here????" There were about 30 people in the class, the majority of them 18-23 year old Ailey School students. Luckily, I have plenty of experience taking dance classes with teenagers.

I think I faked my way through the class pretty well, which was impressive given that half of the class the instructor didn't show us what to do. In fact, the class simply started with, "Let's begin" and everyone started doing their thing. I was, of course, hugging the back wall of the studio so I could see what everyone else was doing and no one could see me, which worked pretty well until one combination where we turned to face the back wall, and then suddenly I was in the front. Yarg!

After class I wandered around the city a bit. Wouldn't you know it, I come all the way to NYC, and where do end up spending all of my money? At a Farmers' Market I came across. I guess some things will never change.

Off to Times Square tonight to watch the opening gala for the Metropolitan Opera. I had hoped to go to the real show with Tommy the Wig, but he's working the show, so I'm going to put on my black gown and go to Times Square to watch it there. The good news is that he's being interviewed before the curtain goes up. Go Tommy! (No, I'm not really going to wear my gown to Times Square, despite Justin's suggestion that I should. I wouldn't want to make all the other folks feel under dressed, you know.)

Sigh...

Well, I guess I've just entered a new phase of my life. I went to Alvin Ailey this morning to find out about taking dance classes. Unlike COCA, where I take dance classes in St. Louis, where I have been mistaken for a teenager (I think that woman needed stronger glasses), the woman at Alvin Ailey asked me if I was a parent of a student in the junior company.

Sigh.......

Trail Clearing

I just returned from my week of trail clearing with the AMC in Acadia National Park up in Maine. It was a fun trip, which I highly recommend to anyone who is looking for a week in the woods where they feed and house you, and you enjoy sweating and getting dirty!

I went up to Maine early to spend the night with my homesteading friend, Becka. I was disappointed to find out that they have joined the grid, but I enjoyed being able to wash dishes in warm water without putting it on the stove first. I did get to milk a goat while I was there, so I can now add that to my list of skills. (I’m sure it will come in handy in Kenya.) The night I was there, the remnants of Hurricane Hanna came through. It was awfully loud in the little metal camper I was staying in. Becka didn’t have a rain gauge, but in the morning the wheelbarrow was full of water.

From there I headed to Bar Harbor, about which I’d been hearing for years. Two things struck me. 1) It is really no different from Portsmouth, except it has sales tax and is 5 hours away. 2) Everyone there had grey hair. I drove to the other side of Mt. Desert Island (pronounced Dessert apparently… not sure how that happened) to the AMC Echo Lake Camp. The first thing I found was that the driveway had been washed out. Washed out but good. About 100 feet of the tarmac had collapsed. We all just parked at the top of the hill and schlepped down. No biggie. The trick was the poor guy who got there the night before (Mt. Desert got 7.5 inches of rain that night), and was now stuck at the bottom!

As I was unpacking, I realized that I had left my raincoat at Becka’s. Groan! I called mom to check in, and mentioned that I had left the raincoat. She said that of course she would have a spare poncho in her car. I did not. Luckily one of the women on the trip was similar to my mother (except she could actually spell the word “outdoors”) and had a poncho to lend to me, which came in quite handy on a very wet Tuesday.

The crew was only nine people, all very nice (and obviously like-minded, for who would PAY to do manual labor??), but not quite what I was expecting. When I was in grad school, a guy who lived in Seattle or somewhere out west commented in class one day (apropos of who knows what; it was a pretty loosey goosey class) that where he lived it was considered rude to ask someone what they do. I think of that every time I meet someone and go through my standard get-to-know-you questions: “Where are you from? Have you always lived there? What do you do?”—crap, I shouldn’t ask that one—“Um, can you think of any sport more non-stop than soccer?” (No, I don’t ask that one, but yes, my grandfather did one evening when I had a friend over.) I noticed that in this group of volunteers, I seemed to be the only one who mentioned my job. Then it struck me, that is because everyone else is retired! Their ages ranged from 56 (she’s not actually retired, I think) to 77! Yet again I am reminded that I have the tastes of a 60 year old woman. Sigh. (In St. Louis, I spend my time in dance classes with teenagers and at the symphony with grey-hairs, leading me to wonder, where the hell are all the 35 year olds?? Ah yes, they are all stuck at home with their kids, and not free to play around as they wish. Suckers!)

The week was good. We were in canvas tents (here's a picture of the view from my tent) at a swanky camp (it had hot showers). Our task was to build about 250 feet of a new trail they are creating, which will be ADA compliant. That meant we had to dig down about 4 inches and make it level before we poured in a bunch of gravel (Acadia has a secret blend, courtesy of John Rockefeller). I was all about wheeling that barrow of gravel up and down that hill. I much preferred that to grubbing out the soil and rocks. We never did get to see our work complete, because the final stage was to tamp it down, and when we finally got the tamper (two other crews kept nicking it), the pull cord was non-functional. Oh well.

One of the four work days we got to hike up one of the mountains to help out the Park Service replace granite steps. Have you ever wondered how those steps get onto a trail way up in the mountains? Well, now I know. Some Park guys find a bunch of boulders vaguely near the trail and dub that a quarry. They drill and bash the rocks into somewhat step-like shapes. They then sucker in a bunch of volunteers to move the rocks (one cubic foot of granite weighs 180 pounds). That was actually totally cool. The process is called high-lining. We pried up a rock until we could get a chain around it, attached a hook to that, and then cranked down this metal cable which is suspended from two trees until it could pick it up. Crank up the cable, and let gravity pull the rock down the hill (kind of like a zip line). Mind you, the rocks we were moving only went about 30 feet before we had to make the pile for the next high line, so it wasn’t too tricky.

They gave us the last day off to do whatever we wanted. Those of you who know me well will not believe me when I tell you that I decided to get up to see the sun rise on Cadillac Mountain (supposedly the first point in the US that the sun shines upon, although there is apparently a town on the Canadian border that will fight that tooth and nail). I set my alarm for 4:45 am, set out some long underwear, and snuggled into my sleeping bag for a short night of sleep. It was worth it, though. The sunrise was really lovely. (We totally cheated and drove up to the top of the mountain, so don’t think I’m THAT virtuous!)

We came back to camp for breakfast, and then planned the day. Some folks were going to go on a nice flat bike-ride, others on a gentle hike. I decided to do the trail called Precipice. It was pretty aptly named, as it went basically straight up a pretty flat face of a mountain. (Big hill, really. Only just over 1,000 feet.) When I got to the top, it was, of course, cloudy. Oh well. I was back down in no time (via a much more gentle path), so decided to do another precarious hike, this one up Beehive. Both of these trails were ones with ladders (really just metal rods drilled into the side of the mountain), which involved lots of climbing and pulling and feeling pretty buff. (Shaner would NOT have liked either, as there was a lot of standing on, well, precipices, with nothing between you and those treetops way down there.) It was getting pretty windy as I climbed Beehive, so when I got to the top and a couple of women congratulated me (and then remarked “She looks like a pro.” Yes, buy a few of the right clothes, and I can trick people into thinking I’m a real hiker, or dancer, or girl…), the first thing out of my mouth was “We won’t tell my mother about this one.”

It was a lovely way to begin the frivolities of my Gap Year. I even learned (or reaffirmed) a few things on the trip:
1) I like being outside.
2) I now know a new way to tie shoes which will not come untied (teachers and parents, I will give you a demo later if you remind me).
3) I am not a morning person. (My tentmate had to wake me for breakfast one morning… but only once.)
4) I like being active and sweating. (Who knew I liked exercise!)
5) I am a bigger risk taker than I thought. I had no fear dangling from the side of the mountain by myself in the wind. (Again, don’t tell mom.)

Itinerary

My tickets are booked (most of them, at least) and I'm actually going. The spring is still up in the air, but here is my itinerary thus far. (Everything subject to change, depending on how much fun I am having.)

Sept 29 Fly from NYC to London
Early Nov train to Paris/Rennes for a few days
Nov 10 London to Nairobi (via Doha!)
Nov 24-Dec 4 Monkey chasing in the woods of Kenya
Dec 6 Nairobi to Bangkok
Dec 21 Bangkok to Perth (Australia)
Jan 10 Perth to Melbourne
Jan 18 Melbourne to Sydney
Jan 26 Sydney to Christchurch (New Zealand)
Feb 21 Aukland to Fiji!
Feb 23 Fiji to Los Angeles

As I mentioned before, these dates were set around assuming I had to be in Costa Rica on March 1st, which I now don't, so I may stretch out various bits (like Fiji).

Apparently my international cell phone has a feature where you can log on and track exactly where it has been, but that is a little much, even for me, and I like stalking...

First Day of School

For the first time in twelve years I find myself somewhat idle today, the first Tuesday of September. Rather than going to school, I think I'll lounge around. (Actually, I'm going to be doing construction work with Dickie today.) But to all my teacher friends and families who have kids at school, I am thinking about you today, and here I am toasting you as I have a mimosa with my breakfast. (Not really. I'm not that good with a hammer anyway...)