Melinda's Moments Mmprh

Monday afternoon – On the plane from LA to Seattle…

Jerry came down early yesterday morning so that we could attend Billy and Bruce Stuart’s Christmas party. Attend isn’t the right word, though, because I was actually performing. They are amazing, amazing guys, who, for their annual Christmas party decided that they wanted Diavolo to perform. They went out and built a full-sized stage in their garden (really and an extra lot that fills in the space between their main living quarters, a cabana, a guest house, a green house, the pool complex and some other unknown, but equally opulent and amazing structures.) The stage had full lighting trusses and support structures so that we might perform the Knot, a piece where the silver orb the three male dancers interact with is suspended from the ceiling, and can be swung from and circled with a support wire.

I realize I’ve lost all order in trying to describe this party. Henceforth, I am just going to type it as I think about it… and there is soooo much I want to document. I’ll start with the Stuarts themselves: I can’t even believe how wonderful they are… it was such an amazing and fun experience to begin with, but having these two generous, openhearted, amazing, amazing men take such wonderful care of us was beyond anything I could have expected.

When I say that they ‘took care of us,’ I mean this in about 800 ways: Mostly, that they threw this party for the who’s-who of Beverly Hills, and asked us to perform, not only because they like our company, and just wanted their friends to enjoy a good show, but also because they wanted to help spread the word about us, and wanted to provide for us a way to get our name out among people who matter in the arts world. It was just so wonderful, I still am in awe. They had a basket by the front door of flyers about us, and came up on stage after we performed and talked about us, and how much they love our company… and they were so genuine, and it was so touching.

They also took care of us by allowing everyone in the company to not just be there to perform, but to actually be full party guests, and for each of us to be able to bring a guest. This was why I splurged and flew Jerry down just for the one night to be my date… when else will I ever, ever get to go to a party like this?!

They also gave the Diavolo people their cabana (read: full other house on the property,) to have as our green room and chill-out space. When we went upstairs, there were even gift bags full of very-well selected goodies for each of the dancers. You can tell these guys just care, a lot, about everything they do. Otherwise, how else would they have thought to give the dancers foot-care products, back pain spray, relaxation bath and body accouterments… It was so fun. I was giggling for about five minutes while I delved into my bag, grinning.

As if it couldn’t get any better, the Stuarts also gave full rein over use of their hot tub, warm, simmering pool and cabana-house for our use after the party, once all the other guests had left. (!!!) They told us ahead of time to all bring our swimsuits and stuff to spend the night (should we so choose, or should we be so inebriated that we would incapable of driving home…) AND!! As we all were enjoying ourselves, and having an amazing time in the spa, they would come over and sit and talk with us and bring us (even more) drinks, waters, towels… it was unbelievable, and when I offered to help clean up and everything, they just said it was okay, and to just enjoy ourselves to the fullest… wow, right? RIGHT.

So… back to the party itself. We got to the house early to run through all the pieces before we were going to actually perform them. Afterwards, guests started showing up at about 7:00, and by that time we had all had time to pile into the same room in the cabana and get ready girl-slumber-party, before-prom style. Many of us had brought multiple choices on dresses, shoes, make up, dress shirts, pants, accessories… so we have mini fashion shows and swaps until everyone looked their absolute best and we were all ready to hit the party for a couple of hours before we had to go get ready to perform.

One quick note: I have always had gorgeous friends, but really, I really, really had the most gorgeous friends last night. I mean, everyone in the company (and all our dates,) are very pretty people, but everyone also cleaned up like, talk-show makeover worthy. It was awesome.

So, heading out into the party, it was a little chilly because with no cloud cover in So Cal, even when it’s moderately warm during the day, by night, there is nothing to keep all that moisture in, so it just gets real cold real fast. There were heat-lamps spread throughout the grounds, though, so it wasn’t even an issue really (until I got out of the pool later that night, and realized I had left my towel in the room in the cabana across the property…)

There were waiters walking around with hors d’ouvres, as well as “Hottie Santas” walking around with mojitos and champagne. By “hottie santas,” I mean that there were scantily dressed men in santa hats and red bottoms walking around spreading alcoholic Christmas cheer. There was also a full, hosted bar, and desserts later on in the night. Another function of the Hottie Santas was to, at the end of the night, as the guest were leaving, to change into hottie santa, open-chested, red flannel PJ’s and hand out presents to everyone as they left. Unfortunately, I never got around to getting mine since I ended up leaving about three hours after the normal guests.

Oh! And there were Jingle Dogs!! The Stuarts have three beautiful, amazingly fun puppers that they had outfitted with jingle-bell feet warmers and collars, so they jing-jing-jingled their way all over the property throughout the party. I found this highly enchanting, to say the least.

So, about our show: We did three pieces: The Door solo, which David did, Origin (body sofa,) which I did, and The Knot, which Garrett, John, and Leo did. (Also – last night was the best I think that I have ever seen Atom (aka the knot) look. Especially since all of the dances were set against a backdrop of manicured foliage and a cloudless starry sky, and a three-quarters full moon.

The stage itself, by the time we performed around 9:00pm, as dewy and very cold, but it was so amazing and fun to perform under the night sky like that. I feel so lucky to be one of our dancers who got to perform at the party… it’s something I’ll never ever forget for sure.

Also, doing Origin there was the first time Jerry got to see me perform that piece, and as well, it might be my last time doing the full, long version of it as a solo. (Now origin has been combined with hanging duet, so the piece is half origin statue, half hanging duet.)

– Cut to: me in bed, Wednesday morning, really tired. —

Also, I was the only female Diavolo member to perform, so I was the only one who didn’t get to come cute, and stay cute… this also led to me not being able to drink until after I performed, so I was on a different track than everyone else… by the time I was done, most of my friends were far too wasted. The party continued on, I got re-fancied-up and wandered around the grounds. The inside of the house was amazing, it looked like Indiana Jones and Thom from the fab-five had collaborated on the decorating.

Everywhere were important people… one conversation I had with someone that was meaningful to me was that I ran into the man who produced and created the special on MTV that aired when I was in high school about Matthew Shepherd, starring his mom, right after he had died. It was weird, getting to hear about the whole process. It made that special, which has obviously haunted me until now, all the more haunting.

Jerry made friends with Melisa, Becca’s best friend and guest and Becca, and the three of them were on serious party-patrol while I was up getting ready and warming up and all that. After we had performed, and mingled, and drank, and wandered for quite awhile, one by one, Diavolo members started getting in the pool and hot tub. It as funny, because I was in the middle of a random conversation with a party guest, when, all of the sudden, Felix and Garrett popped up on either side of the guy, in their swimming briefs, dripping wet and pulling me towards the pool.

Eventually, I succumbed, once I had changed into an extra swim suit Becca brought, but Jerry, as per usual stayed as far away from the water as he could manage. Once the the hot tub turned into… an awkward place to be… I got out, and went back and changed into everything warm I brought. By that time everyone else was too drunk to notice that Jerry and I and some of our more sober companions had chosen to stay in the nice and warm Cabana to talk, and play with the pool table. Once I made final rounds, double checking that everyone had a safe ride home, Jerry and I took off, getting back to my apartment at about 1:00. Obviously, I fell right asleep.

The next morning, Jerry and I finished Sky High, and watched the 40-year-old Virgin as I packed up literally everything I could possibly think of. I let go of any concern about over-packing for this trip home, I really didn’t want to be accidentally without any possible thing when I was stressed out about, and about to get married. We got lunch on the way to the airport at Cilantro’s – to which I had never been, but is now squarely on my list of mexican places to go once or twice a week – and flew home on a mid-afternoon flight.

In a weird turn – we got the same taxi guy I got the last time I flew home. This time, instead of a morality lesson on why it’s best that my dancing is not not the stripping type, we were privy to a philosophy lesson on the joys of married life. Bizarre.

I’ma write all about the million-dolla party on the plane on the way home, but for now I have to effing pack a shit-ton of stuff… I have to have everything for two weeks which include my wedding, a million celebrations, and everything in between. This is waaaaaaaay more stressful than trying to pack for two months of tour…

Oh yeah, Saturday… I had originally written this on Saturday afternoon (duh,) but the saffitz.com server has been down or something, because up until now I haven’t been able to load the page or post. So… yeah:

“I’m watching Sky High right now, and it’s definitely supposed to be a kid’s movie, but I haven’t enjoyed a movie this much in a long time. You and you and you should go rent it.”

And that was it.

In a ridiculous coincidence, I am right now re-watching Sky High. Now that Jerry is here, I made him watch it while I pack cause I thought it was so good. He also thinks it is far too fun to have been lost to the kids’ movie vortex.

I am going to try and follow Megan’s example and blog everynight. I might be bad at this though, because, unlike Megan, I don’t seem to have a penchant for finding fun stories in the monotony of the day to day.

Aha, today though, I get to cheat, because crazy shit went down today.

So… In the AM, I just kinda woke up, took care of some stuff (windexing a line of Ants and then duct-taping thier sneaky entrance into my room shut,) did more wedding to-dos, called Audrey and wasted about an hour of her time being needy and *that* bride… ugh.

So, anyway, I went to the space at about 3:30, and the kids who took the intensive all week were being taught the final movements of the piece they were going to do tonight. Time passes, we all go get food, we talk, we start warming up…

John and I are rehearsing wheel duet since neither of us had done it since St. Louis or so… when suddenly we hear a huge thud, and a scream and…

I look over and the Capture bowl (large, silver fiberglass half-of-a-circle,) has toppled over on Chad, who had been in the bowl, knocking his head into the groud and crushing all of the fingers on his right hand. It was brutal – there was a silver dome, with four fingers sticking out… and that thing is effing heavy. It scared the shit out of me. He is okay, by the way, well, jury’s still out on the status of his head and hand, but he got up and a couple hours later was able to leave on his own.

Without a Chad, we had to change the whole show around and do a last minute scramble to revise all the group pieces to do sans one guy.

For me, more of the reason why I am telling this story is because, it hit me — I’m doing some scary stuff here. I always knew it, but I have gotten to this point where I am comfortable enough with the choreography and the sets, that I had stopped my daily reverence to the unplanned, the unexpected and the dangerous. I am so very glad that something knocked it back into me before I took a tumble by going too far. I don’t think this would have been inevitable or anything – and I find no positive in Chad being hurt – but it really shook me up. It was the first time I was watching as something went wrong in a run… and it re-centere me, for sure.

My subsequent close-call tonight came as John and I were performing wheel duet and the piece hit it’s balance point… and just stayed there. We were up on the very point of a rocker, and about to completely fall. It would have gone towards me, and I would have been crushed, and John would have been thrown… It’s never gone that far, it felt like it looked amazing, but John and I were about. to. crap. our. pants. onstage.

I think on any other day, that type of scary thing, (that was actually pretty awesome in the end because it ended up going alright,) I would have just laughed off. But tonight I was just too anxious and tense to not freak out afterwards. I hope and pray I’m always safe on stage.

Now I am home, in my warm bed. Jerry is in Portland for his Bachelor’s party. It’s funny to me, simply because he so not a typical guy. Sunday morning he flies here to accompany me to the million-dollar party I get to perform at. Now, I need to start concerning myself with what I get to wear!! It is truly going to be one of the coolest things I’ll ever get to attend in my life… I’m so stoked!!

Oh man, did j’y’alls know I had a web blog? Because, I, apparently did not.

So to recount the past three months in a nutshell: my computer croaked, and with it, took all record of what was probably three of the most significant months of my life. Effing heck.

Alas, that’s how it goes, I suppose. I did get wicked pictures, that might help.
So, the long and short of it:

-went on tour September and October (Black October): San Diego, Long Beach, Charleston, Morgantown, State College, LeHigh, Philadelphia, Purchase, St. Louis…

-came back for three days, and then went to South Korea for 10 days… performed, learned some crazy fun new flys, did a LOT of shopping, and got sick of Korean food…

-had a break. But, it wasn’t really a break, because darn near every moment of every day spent running errands to catch up with life, moving into the new apartment, or doing wedding planning stuff. It’s all fun, but it’s been kind of daunting.

-now I am back in LA, in rehearsals, and doing some small shows in the rehearsal space. I leave again for Seattle on Monday, after I get to go to a pretty kick-ass party and perform for the elite in a mansion… oh man… so excited…

Last night and today, I have been ridiculously productive. Like, my normal prodictvity is about a little above the average person, and recently, it’s doubled. I made (like art-and-crafted) about half of my thank you cards, wrote the whole program, did the dishes (this was a BIG deal… I’m too embarrassed to admit why,) unpacked from the past three months, and organized everything. In that last category is included about a million small tasks like paying bills, and buying gifts.

Maybe this is why I don’t update. I’m not really saying much at all of interest.

Erin was here for a couple of days. We had a pretty rockin’ good time, too. We saw three movies, and not-shopped a lot – also known as “window shopping,” though we actually went into the stores.

The movies: Jarhead is maybe the only movie I’ve ever seen that I liked better than the book upon which it was based. Brokeback Mountain was good, too, but not as good as I wanted it to be. Bubbleboy, which we rented, was just too lame to acknowledge.

I am getting sick, which makes me angry because I want to be well, dammit. For a number of reasons, least of all vanity for my shows, most of all capability ro perform in said shows, and be healthy by my wedding.

Crap! 15 days!! I am so overwhelmed, I think I’m supposed to be more giggly excited and less stressed excited, but excitement is excitement, and excited I truly am.

What the heck am I going to do with myself once I don’t have a billion little and big deadlines to meet, and things to take care of, and plan for, and stress about, all on a daily basis?

Maybe my hair will grow back or something. (Note: this is a joke, and I bet my mom was concerned for just a second until she got to the disclaimer.)

Wednesday afternoon – In between the opening and the finale…

I’m the in the bowels of the MGM Grand, in the dressing rooms of the Grand Arena. This venue is where Tyson fought Holifield and all the huge concerts come to… and all along the halls leading from the dressing rooms to backstage are their signed pictures thanking the MGM crew. Kiss, The Rolling Stones, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, Britney Spears (one of these things is not like the other…) It’s awesome cause we get juice, coffee and coke products in our room every morning. They have half bottles of coke that are amazingly cute. I’ve never seen them elsewhere. I took some to give to mom, dad and Jerry this weekend.

What they don’t provide, however, is food. That sucks especially hard because the food here is soooo effing expensive. Today for lunch I had a $9 turkey sandwich, which was cheap, compared to my $12 chicken sandwich from Monday. Yesterday, I tried to go cheap and ate at the least expensive place at the food court – The Grand Wok – and paid for it for the rest of the day. I thought, and still think, that the projectile vomiting would have fit right in with the pyrotechnics, fog machines and lasers. 

I keep on saying that the stage is gi-normous. It completely dwarfs dreamcatcher, and that’s saying something considering that our set is a good 22 feet. When I climb up over to the tippy-top to drop in to climb down to the center before my fly is no longer the SCARIEST thing ever… and I realized that it’s all relative. The thing is, that at our rehearsal space, the top of the DC is about 10 inches from the ceiling, so when you’re up there, you freak out. BUT, when the top of the DC is about 40 feet from the arena ceiling, suddenly you’re all confident.

**** Cut to Friday Night – Back home, in my own bed, and exhausted. ****

Hmmm… where to (re)start. Monday? Ok. Monday.

I didn’t have to be at the airport until noon, so my morning was spent sulking and stressing over all the stuff I couldn’t get done before I left. The flight to Las Vegas was only about 45 minutes. Becca, John and I caught a cab with Jacques after having already checked in to the MGM at their airport kiosk. Almost as soon as we got there we had to go to our first tech call, but we did have just enough time to squeeze in a meal from ‘wichcraft (the $12 chicken sandwich previously referred to…) which we ate by the pool, in our clothes.

The first tech was mostly cue to cue, spacing, etc. It was a long day because everything had to be re-worked according to the stage – which was smaller than our sets liked, and slippery than my ass liked – which consequently was why they became so well acquainted.

I think we got out a half an hour late on Monday, but I really can’t remember. After we left, Becca, John Paige and I trekked the ten-mile (hyperbole) long walk from the arena back to the casino and took a late dinner at the Studio Café. I had a rather amazing BBQ sandwich, which I mention simply because the sauce rivals Chicago for ribs, and THAT is saying something. Also, our waiter was a turd and tried to trick us in to believing that Grey Goose was the well vodka. AND he never brought my chips and guac. Bastard.

We then went up/over to Garrett uber-posh “west wing” psycho-mod-euro-white-and-blue-contempo-whore style room and hung out for a bit. I definitely fell asleep there, and had to be woken up. I went back to my room and crashed. Thinking back, I’m shocked that I remembered to set the alarm/call for a wake-up call.

Tuesday morning we had a 10am call. It was harder to wake up than I expected but by no means harder than I would find subsequent mornings. We spent a good part of the morning teching who knows what, but it involved running everything a bajillion times. That was fine, and was to be expected. We only got a half an hour lunch, instead of an hour, though, which was rather frustrating since in order to get food one had to sprint to the food court and buy grease and acid for $20. (This quip is referencing the also-previously-mentioned Chinese food.)

After lunch we teched more… and then had dinner (John, David, Becca and I split a pizza from Mamma Ilardo’s.) Then we had a long strung-along pseudo break, in which we were sequestered to our dressing room due to the possibility of being needed at a moment’s notice. This resulted in a weird, hyper, delirious cabin fever, exacerbated by the fact that we needed to stay alert and warmed up with no release. By about 11pm we were finally back on stage and we left around 11:30.

For a late dinner, almost all of us – even Evan, Derrick and Jeremy – went to a local pub called the Crown and Anchor for dinner. Paige had raved about it, and a bunch of others seemed to know about how good it was, so our decision to go was made regardless of how exhausted we all were. After midnight burgers there were $3. These were HUUUGE burgers, too, and even came with fries, Everyone filled up on the beer specials, too, but instead I opted for, like, five glasses of good ol’ Coke. And, (sadly?) one of my strongest associations with that dinner was how figgin’ much I enjoyed those Cokes. Dinner went long, and we got home about 2:45am… after a random additional stop at Jack and the Box so that AD could get a strawberry-banana milkshake.

Ah, Wednesday. Wednesday we had a 9am call, so that we could run everything in full at 11. (Keep in mind that the actual show was coming up that night at 8pm.) The run at 11 was to do the whole thing strung together and add fog, lasers, lights (read: everything distracting and dangerous for us all at once.) During that run, we were introduced to the bodily sensation of suffocating on stage… they overdid the fog machines and choked and blinded us with CO2 (put that 2 in a subscript in your head, please.) The best part was that it obscured us enough that it was difficult to see what we were doing… and the client liked it… meaning the fog stayed… and we just had to deal. This was all okay, just one hurdle among many, but a particularly brutal one for my lil ol’ lungs which were already sad and bitchy due to the air conditioning and desert humidity level.

One thing I do want to interject into my own monologue is that all the people who were backstage and working on the Honda show were so much fun, and so nice. One guy, named Chief, is going to come and see us in New York, and hopefully, if there is time, he is going to take us to all his favorite places in the city. Another guy, named Brian, was one of the Asimo operators and could tell I was retarded-excited to see/be next to/within 10 feet/ witness the robot. He arranged it so I could take pictures with Asimo and was so fun and crazy nice and totally put up with all my nerdy questions and giggles and freak out when Asimo did cool shit in front of me. Also Jennifer, the stage manager, was totally chill and played along with us and didn’t get up tight or cranky ever – an amazing feat considering all the shit she was in charge of… Everyday when she came to page the drape for us to do onstage, Paige would lead us in a golf-clap for her, saying “ladies and gentlemen, Jennifer. Jennifer, everyone.” She seemed genuinely tickled by that, which made me smile. I love fun, silly people and I hate stupid, stony people. So there.

Our lunch was extended by a bit to accommodate rogue motorcycles so we headed to the pool, (that day we had come prepared with swimsuits and SPF.) We laid out, but I opted for a spot in the shade and my iPod with Death Cab’s new album on repeat. For me, 30 min was not worth sunscreen-grease and that post-sun hot-fever feeling I get. On our way back we bought food, to be had again courtesy of ‘wichcraft (Turkey on a potato roll: $9, previously mentioned.) We got back and had our dress rehearsal, which was our first time in costumes.

Our costumes were interesting to say the least, and I loved them, but there were several humorous things to take note of when viewing pictures later… First, the girls’ tops were much more club-music-video-sassy than Diavolo-style work should ever be done in, which meant some creative solutions were in order to keep them on, and in place. By looking at us girls in those tops, a random person would have a very skewed and wrong impression of what kind of dancing we do. (Check under our pants for the 3 different types of pads for that instead.) Also, the guys were wearing girl-pants, leading to a very sailor-ish cut and issues with exposed butt cracks. I loved it though, and they looked awesome from the video we watched of ourselves. I’m sad I don’t get to keep my track jacket…

Dress went great, and afterwards Jacques treated us to dinner at… wait for it… ‘wichcraft. Becca and I, both having already exhausted all the choices of sandwiches we would eat there, opted for salads and potato salads. I got the absol-effing-lutely best cream soda I have ever had in my life there, too. Then it was back to the theater to do the actual show (the US version.)

It was a full house, and the show went great. At the dress rehearsal they had added pyrotechnics, and both that and the fog seemed to be kicked up a notch during the actual show.

After, John came up to our hotel room and helped Becca and I pick out outfits so that we could get all cutesied up for a night out. We went across the sky-walkway to the New York New York hotel and had dinner at Il Fornaio, (I think it was called that, at least,) an Italian place which only gave me SIX raviolis for $18, AND Becca and I were splitting it – assuming that, at that price, it would be a heaping pile. No matter, I filled up on bread and olive oil.

After, we headed back to the MGM and a bar called Centrifuge for drinks. This bar, I was sad to learn, is what replaced the huge replica of the emerald tower they used to have in the big dome area of the MGM.

Thursday morning we had another early call so we could run the Canadian version of the show (which was half in French, and didn’t have a big-boobed female sportscaster host.) We were done by 1pm, and headed straight for the pool as a big group, (we had again come prepared with swimsuits.) We all got lunch at the grill, which was poolside. Fat and happy, I actually took the time to put on sunscreen so I could lay out and swim in the currented river.

While I was at the pool, I ran into two people from home: Ethan, and also Ruth Burwell – her family was actually there for the Honda convention and had seen me perform the night before… sooooo weird!

The constant quest of the day for the Diavolo crew was to obtain one of the inner tubes you can rent at the pool. None of us was willing to pay $15 for that, so we set out on a (mostly) passive campaign to gather them as we saw them abandoned or neglected. By the end of the night we had procured about five, and had had numerous laps of coagulated dancers-on-tubes floats around the river loop altogether in one big bundle.

After the pool, Becca and I headed up to our room for some much-needed downtime. I re-dyed the red in my hair (which had turned an embarrassing seventh-grade orangey-red from the sun and the pool,) and called up Sarah and made plans to see her that night.

Renee and I already had plans to walk up and down the strip together, (most others held the opinion that this activity would be like “a slow death” and didn’t want to come.) We took the new super-connected monorail system that Vegas has all the way up to Harrah’s so that we could start at the north end of the strip and walk back south to the MGM.

Sarah met up with us at the Harrah’s station and we all walked to Caesar’s for dinner, where Sarah could treat us to use of her employee’s discount for dinner. Some great conversation later, the three of us headed back to Treasure Island, now saucily dubbed just “TI” in an attempt to sexify their image, for the ‘Sirens of TI’ show. This show used to be that pirate battle that was outside in the lake, but it is now a stripper-esque review where boobs challenge buccaneers. We missed it, having gotten the time wrong, and I can’t say I was too sad about it… I only feel super bad cause it was the one thing Renee wanted to see.

Next we headed across the street to check out the Venetian, Bally’s and Paris. Paris was my favorite of the three by far – I would looooove to stay there sometime. Bally’s was so much fun to be in with Sarah as she pointed out where she goes to rehearsal everyday and showed us the Jubilee Theater and all the things she knows about the place and her show so far. I am so excited for her, it’s so much fun!

By this time, poor Renee (who was dying from a severe head cold) had just about had as much as she could handle,) so we said goodbye to Sarah and re-boarded the monorail, which, by the way, now costs $3 each way, to get home to the MGM for the night. I got back to my room and packed up, knowing I had to be up at 6:30 for a 7:30am call Friday morning.

I definitely woke up at about 7:10 this morning, and RAN downstairs. I had to skip breakfast, but we made it in time. The show went okay, weird things happened, like I slipped on my fly so I had a weird body position, but it went well in general.

Post show, Becca, Garrett and I went to go check out the MGM lions, which turned out to be lion: singular, and also a bunch of fun. I finally found a souvenir to buy – an elephant necklace from the lion habitat gift shop – courtesy of mom and dad and the Alaska card (by permission, for once.)

John, Leo, Becca and I split a cab to the airport, and all had lunch together at a Mexican place inside the airport terminal. We inhaled a huge plate of nachos and all ate entrees as well… I think we were all cranky and starving and hankering for food that wasn’t a fortune.

The flight was uneventful, and plans to watch Sex and the City together were usurped by all of us falling asleep upon take-off. Oh well, we all also desperately needed naps.

I have been in bed, at home, loving just laying here since. I am about to go and pick up mom and dad and Jerry at the airport so we can have a fun-filled weekend at Disneyland. I am so excited, I can barely handle it!!

Yikes. The last time I updated was just before my massage – which turned out to be an emotionally disturbing experience. Vince is amazing, and definitely the absolute best masseuse I have ever been to… However, I definitely left in tears. I had heard about this happening to people before with deep tissue massage – usually Rolfing – but I never thought I was susceptible. Apparently it is a byproduct of 22 years of not letting myself exhale emotionally, so all my junk emotion gets stored in my muscles. It was like therapy. I left feeling too aware of my insecurities and my fears in life, but physically cured of almost all my chronic stature and pain issues. It was so incredibly weird.

Now, a week later, I am feeling much better, mostly for the following two reasons: 1) a lot of my confusion/freak out came because I felt so vulnerable having opened up so much to Vince, a guy who I’ve met only a handful of times for Monica’s rehearsals. In hind-sight, though, (which mom nailed exquisitely,) he is just one of those people who knows what to say, and how to say it to you. He was so generous with his time and his advice and his listening. I hope the next time I see him (in about a week,) I won’t feel so sheepish that I can look him in the eye and really, really thank him. (What a weird outcome for a massage, huh?) … and 2) After I was feeling so disjointed and unhinged I was struck again by what great family and friends I have. Mom stayed on the phone with me just because I’m a nutcase and Becca completely invited me to her plans without a second thought cause she could tell I just didn’t want to be alone, without my having to say it. That was the second time Becca has been an absolute angel to me (the first time being when she dropped everything when I was so sick a few weeks ago, and came over and spent the day with me watching TV.) I’m so glad we’ve become such good friends. Diavolo is so far the most amazing experience, and 99.99% of it has been the people. And we haven’t even left on tour yet. 

So anyways… The next day, Sunday, Becca called me up early to see if I wanted to join her and her beau, Pete, for a trip to Manhattan Beach. Sad as it is, I have never ever been to the beach down here for the actual act of going to the beach. As in, I have gone to eat In and Out there and walk barefoot with mom, or Mark and Kris, but never have I gone in a bikini and with suntan lotion in hand to lay out for the express purpose of just being at a beach.

I had so much fun, I can’t even believe it. Part of it was that I felt like a different person: the normal Melinda hisses at the sun and reads whenever there isn’t a TV on… but that day all I did was lay out and play in the waves (another thing I have never, ever done in my whole life.) It was the best!!

After beaching myself (haha) I had dinner with Kris at California Pizza Kitchen, securing myself quality Kris time and leftovers that I could have for lunch for the following two days: quite the deal. 

Monday thru Thursday rehearsal was what rehearsal always is: exhausting, and too hot and long. We finished Trajectoire and the pieces of Dreamcatcher that we’re bringing to Vegas for the Honda Industrial. We also re-learned D2R A (which we did for Denver) and which is going to be the alternate piece we do in the venues at which we can’t hang from the ceiling (ie- for when we can’t do hanging duet or Atom.)

Monday night after rehearsal Becca and I went to Westside Pavillion – an awesome mall by her place in Palms off of Overland and Pico – to buy our stage makeup for the year. Knowing that we didn’t want to break out or sweat off our makeup we totally did the whole have-a-sales-guy-help-you-pick-out-every-part-of-it thing. I left $350 poorer, but with a full face of designer makeup that is the BEST you can buy and lasts because you use less. Also, it means that I won’t need to tap into my personal/fun stuff and use it all up on tour.

The biggest part of the investment was about $150 worth of brushes and brush cleaner. I have always been a use-your-finger kind of gal, but apparently that is bad for your face, the makeup, and how long it lasts. Becca already had a killer set of brushes so she didn’t need to buy any. She has had her MAC brushes for about eight years and they are still perfect, so I don’t feel so bad having “invested” in a good set. The whole experience was also super, super fun having someone pick out all your colors and teach you how to apply it all so it looks amazing. It was fun to spoil myself and throw my budget to the wind for a night. It will last far longer than just this season (most of it anyway – the foundation is the only thing that I might need to restock.) 

Wednesday night, back at Diavolo, was our annual donor’s gala-show/season kick off. It’s when we perform for everyone who gives us money to survive. The day was so long I couldn’t form complete sentences by the end of it. But the event was catered and I got to tons of fresh fruit: a highlight for me simply because it’s been too long: my apartment is too hot to buy fruit – it ripens waaaay too fast, or not at all if I leave it in the Fridge.) I would have also drowned myself in the ridiculously expensive French wine, just because it was soooo expensive and I when else would I have that opportunity, had I not been the driver that day. It was fun to meet the Board of Directors and get to kick it with the company outside of rehearsal while wearing things other than sweats and actual sweat. 

Thursday after rehearsal, too, I got to do just this. After Paige, Becca and I went to a costume fitting (in what I still maintain is the creepiest – like haunted-wise, not dangerous-wise – building in all of LA, off of West Pico and La Brea) we decided to get cocktails at an English pub on Sunset in Hollywood called the Cat and Fiddle. I felt oh-so-grown-up to go “have cocktails,” and this was definitely part of the allure that kept me from instead going home and passing out for the night. 

What started out as us three girls turned into most of the company. We all got burgers… great, massive, wonderful burgers and fried vegetables. It was great being around them and not feeling like I was the gross one eating crap. I also found a new drink that I actually enjoy drinking and don’t just tolerate: Vanilla vodka and Ginger Ale. Who knew? It was very sweet, though. Paige let me try her vodka tonic, and I like that too: it was like 7up but more alcohol-y. Looks like my silly quest to find drinks that I actually like has had a sudden kick-start. And just in time for Vegas! Awesome! 

Dinner was tons of fun. Afterwards, Becca and I went to the Hustler store – yes, like Huster magazine – to buy her brother a birthday present: he had asked for one of their trademark tees. It was actually not a bad experience. I was sure I was going to feel terribly uncomfortable and hate the place, but instead I found that it was more like a Hard Rock Café: all logo gear and gag gifts, not raunchy or overt at all. There were, of course, sections that had gross “lingere” and books about things I didn’t care to browse, but I was pleased to leave and not feel sick to my stomach or like I was gross. I even bought a shirt for Jerry. It is brown and has a skeleton with guns crossing his chest and doesn’t have one single reference to sex on it anywhere. I therefore have no idea why they were selling it, but whatever. He’ll love it.

Friday I spent the day in Orange County with Wesley, my long-time-no-see most favorite guy friend ever, who has been in China for the past two years. We went and got Boba and then watched MTV and caught up for hours. I’ve missed him so much! He definitely has the best laugh ever and always makes me feel loved. We met up with his friends at night and went to a Street fair in the orange “district” – he swears it’s not a city, or a neighborhood, so by default we’ll call it that – of Tustin. It was amazing. The whole thing is divided into nations/countries. So, as you’re walking in one area it is all Mexican food and crafts and drinks, and then you cross a walkway and enter into Swiss everything. They had Japanese, Chinese, Korean, Danish, Italian, all-american, german, French… and a ton of delineations I couldn’t have imagined warranted their own area, but there they were.

We ended the night at a friend of his parent’s restaurant called Jalapeno’s. There was a very drunk and very hot-tempered Mexican guy there who tried to start a brawl because Wes put his beer on the edge of the table connected to his to give his friend a hug. It was scary for about two seconds and then it was just hilarious. The guy was an idiot and was doing that whole “whose got a problem here?!” puff your chest and glare thing. I made it worse by laughing directly at him (it was a reaction, not an attempt to exacerbate the situation – the guy was just that retarded, I almost did that spit out your soda laugh thing.) Oh well.

Wow, my posts are always so long when I take too long in between each one.

I’ll finish with today: I got up, and immediately called Mark and asked him to go get Rubio’s with me. We ended up seeing the 40-year-old Virgin after lunch, and it was amazing. So good. Go see it. Now.

Since then I’ve been paying bills, cleaning my room, and half-assedly packing for Vegas. I leave on Monday. Tomorrow we have our last rehearsal and load out of the Dreamcatcher set – which is going to take forever: it’s effing huge. I made rice and beans and an olive and cheese quesidilla (no idea how to spell that…) for dinner, and I am enjoying writing and eating and watching yet more of Sex and the City. (I’m on Season Three now. It’s an addicting show!)

Jerry is at the gorge seeing Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. I miss the Gorge and Seattle Summer. I can’t believe summer is over… I had a panic attack when I found out LMU started last Monday. I gave myself the summer to settle into pretending to be grown-up and it’s laboring for me to realize my grace period has ended. I miss college and I miss Seattle. But hey, I’m about to go all over the country and the world doing what I love, so, I can’t really complain now can I?

I am joining the world of web blogging.

Woohoo! 

And now that I have a forum, I really have no idea what it is I just a few moments/days ago I thought was so worth sharing. Also, this is about my third attempt to sit down and write something… my other two attempts were thwarted by computer pixies and exhaustion. Therefore, this shall be a long post, several tries and days later… 

I just dropped Jerry off at the airport. We’ve had a wonderful few days, and we were both rather shocked by how ridiculously quickly the four days he was here seemed to go by. That is to say, generally his visits always feel unfairly short, but this one really felt like he was only here for five minutes.

All last week I was learning sections of an evening-length piece on a set called the Dreamcatcher. It us about 21 feet tall and is basically a giant, rotating (end over end, not rolling) ring/wheel (of doom!!)… It is by far the most ruthless apparatus I’ve encountered with Diavolo – and now I can fully appreciate all the remarks I hear from the seasoned company members about “just remember, it can’t hurt worse than the dreamcatcher…” I’m not sure if that’s comforting or not. I definitely feel way more badass after last week though, cause now I’m a part of that club, the one whose initiation is being flung from a huge metal ring into a wall. Just kidding. Kind of. 

That was a sidebar: the point was to explain why perhaps Jerry’s visit felt so truncated: I spent most of it in a zombified state of half-asleep recovery from last week’s rigor.

Regardless… Friday night after rehearsal I came home from rehearsal and promptly napped for a few hours. When I woke up I did a whole slew of things I had been unable to do during my busy week. I really felt way behind, even though it ended up not being to dramatic, I think just not even having the time to stop and think about what you’re not getting done is scarier and more stressful than actually knowing exactly what it is you’re behind on. (Another sidebar: to further illustrate the kind of week I had last week: after normal Diavolo rehearsals, most days I had rehearsals for Monica’s piece for the unplugged until 10pm. Yay for 14 hour days.) So in between napping and picking Jerry up, I paid some bills, ran some errands and made some long-overdue phone calls, most notably to Kelly and Sarah.

Finally getting to talk to Kelly for more than a few seconds, I asked her to be one of my bridesmaids, She said yes, and squealed, and I couldn’t be happier. I think besides the whole married thing, and the whole getting to wear a really pretty dress thing, I am so excited for my wedding just because I get my seven favorite people to surround me for a few days as my bridesmaids. I really couldn’t be more pleased, and I am super happy I decided to go with my gut and ask more people than usual.

Sarah, who has been in Hawaii for a few weeks, just moved to Vegas and just started her rehearsals for Bally’s as a showgirl. I can’t even begin to get into all the fun and exciting things going on for her… but it’s basically the coolest thing I have ever heard. She’s such a superstar, and one of the bravest people I know. I so proud of all my friends, and Sarah in particular is a stellar example of why. I miss her already, the one downside is that I don’t get to see her anymore. Hopefully Becca and I can steal her away for a bit while we’re in Vegas for the Honda industrial shows.

So, back to the timeline, I also cleaned my room, did some laundry, dishes, etc and watched (for the second time in my life) Sex and the City. I bought all the seasons from Mr. Ping, my probably questionable but always reliable Chinese DVD seller on eBay. I never got around to watching them, however, until last Sunday when Becca came over to spend time with me when I was super sick. It is her favorite show pretty much ever, and I will say it was pretty easy to get into the show and hooked. I’m not almost done with Season One, and, luckily, already have seasons 2-6 ready to go.

When I finally picked up Jerry, we went straight to In and Out and had burgers and Neapolitan shakes. I pretty much fell asleep immediately once my stomach was full.

I woke up the next morning having not taken out my contacts. That sucked quite a bit. We woke up surprisingly early, about 7am, and we watched the History channel until about 10, just enjoying being able to not have to immediately jump up and head out the door. Eventually, though, hunger got the best of us, and a plan was hatched to go to Ruby’s and to the Bridge to see one of a handful of movies we had been planning on seeing while he was in town. Ruby’s (the one in the Marina) was closed though – like, for real, not just for the night – which pissed me off. A lot. I loved that place. Instead we decided to go to Johnny Rockets, another post-WWII style diner, unwilling to give up on the idea of chili dogs and malts.

Speaking of which, I got a ‘Black Forest’ milkshake and damn that shit is good. Oh, snap. It’s cherry and chocolate and goodness all together in one glass. I’m going to have to make a point and go back there and get another before it is September and there is a new Flavor of the Month.

After a lot of food later, we were too full to fathom sitting in movie theater seats and instead opted to go back to my apartment and watch some Netflix we already had. Jerry had brought with him from his subscription the first disc of The 4400, a sci-fi show that was on USA last season. It was sooooooo good!! Good enough that after the first disc was over, we had no idea what else to do but go out and buy the series so we could watch the rest of it together, so off to Fox Hills mall it was.

Fox Hills is the Southcenter of my area of LA, and the crowd usually leaves something to be desired, but we always have so much fun there for some reason. We were both sad to see that the nice jeweler who had sized my birthday ring from Jerry had gone out of business, probably because he was too nice and gave everyone a good deal. We found our DVD and it was only $20, which ruled, but the season only had 7 episodes total, which sucked. We bought it though, and got Great Kahn’s Mongolian grill noodles to split and take home, and headed back.

We then watched all of the rest of the series except for the finale, because we had to stop in time to go pick up Becca and Pete. We were all going to go to Universal City walk for, what we later realized, was a double date. Universal City walk s interesting because by its very nature there is nothing to really actually do there, but you always seem to run out of time. We had great Chinese food at Shanghai and Mein and then ice cream from Ben and Jerry’s. Other than the eating, we bought candy and visited a lot of weirder and more interesting store they have there, none of which makes sense that they’re there or really work in relation to one another. It’s mostly the neon and the atmosphere that make that place so much fun.

Sunday, Becca and I had appointments to have our hair done with a woman on Abbott Kinney in Venice Beach – for those of you who don’t know, that is the cutest street in the world. The salon we went to is in the back of an eclectic store and is really small and super fun. I got red in my hair in places, my who reasoning for changing my hair was to have a characteristic that would discern me on stage from the other 3 brunettes in the company. It sounds silly, but watching the tapes, it’s super hard to figure out who is who even when you know the people and they have really different bodies. Becca got her hair cut and dyed more blonde and copper. At first she hated it – like devastatingly hated it – but now she loves it. A lot of her trepidation was worrying that the Diavolo folks would think it was too short and that it really wasn’t what she had asked for.

Shockingly, the process of getting our hair done took seven – yes, seven – hours. Jerry was such a trooper, he stayed and hung out the entire time. I was super pissed it took so long because it wasted a ton of one of my days off with Jerry. After we finally got out of there, Jerry and headed closer to the water and had dinner at C&O’s tratorria, still one of my absolute favorite places to eat down here. We took our leftovers to the car and, since we had parked in the beach lot, decided to take the opportunity to walk along the beach and visit all the vendors and fun sights that pop up.

It was that beautiful time of night right before Sunset when it is warm and sunny, but not too bright or hot. Venice is such a beautiful beach. We saw the guitar guy who rollerblades along, but does not ask or accept money. He is often also at third street and Jerry and I have a fun sentimentality associated with his existence.

We bought fun watches and sunglasses – both vendors gave us GREAT deals, so we saved a bundle and walked away with more than we had hoped for. We also got a frame for the pictures I had bought once before from one of the photographers who sells his work on along the walk.

As we were walking back to our car, with our loot, and randomly, the world’s biggest soda in our hands, we saw a couple trying to sell the puppies their pitbull had just had. We had to seriously had to refrain from running to a cash machine and buying this one puppy, a little girl one who climbed up my leg and fell asleep in my arms nuzzling me. I rather don’t like dogs, but these dogs, even the parents were so chill and so loving and gentle. The one we liked was the color of apple pie and had seafoam green eyes. Sooo sweet.

On our way home we went to blockbuster, having exhausted our supply of netflix and got four movies. We came home and ate the rest of our mongolian grill from the day before and our garlic balls from C&O’s and watched Constantine and XXX: State of the Union. Constantine was good, I had seen it before, but Jerry hadn’t and Triple X blew. I fell asleep half way through it and never even thought later to ask what had happened. That’s how bad it was.

Monday I had rehearsal until 3 – we started learning Trajectoire, the one that looks like a huge, rocking boat – and then I cam home and showered. Jerry and I went to dinner at Baja Fresh, (because I can’t go more than two days without Mexican food). After dinner we bought two containers of ice cream at Vons (cherry almond fudge and rocky road… hmmm… now I want some of my ice cream… be right back…) and then came home to watch the rest of our movies: the last episode of The 4400 and Sin City. Sin City was okay. Jerry had already seen it and loved it, and I could tell he was sad I wasn’t as enthralled by it was he had been. Visually it was stunning, but story-wise, at least for me, it could have been on mute.

When the movies were done we watched the Daily Show and then went to bed – although I had a crazy, kick-the-walls, can’t-sleep, restless night. Today I had rehearsal again from 9-3 and when I got home, Jerry had cleaned my room and done my dishes, just because he is the cutest thing ever. He also caught up with me on an anime series we have both been netflixing, so after we went and got Taco Bell, we had a marathon of the next two discs of the series before I had to take him to the airport.

That part of the day sucked. It goes without saying, but I really, really hate having to say goodbye so often. I can’t wait until I live at home, and I hope that when that time comes it’s not because I finally had to choose to give something else up I love to make it all work. I wish Diavolo was based out of Seattle, or that Jerry’s band members could all move here.

I have rehearsal from 9-7pm tomorrow and Friday and from 9-10pm on Thursday. We leave for Vegas on September 5th, and the unplugged show is September 17th and 18th. I really hope we’re ready. I really hope I can at some point not feel so tired and bruised.