U.S./Canada relations

The wonderful thing about this blog is that it almost writes itself. Seriously. I swear I don't make anything up that goes in here, and thus far I haven't even exaggerated for comedic effect. This weekend provided ample fodder, to the extent that I'll probably forget about half of it before this entry is through. Let's see if I can at least hit the high points.

This weekend we made our first of three excursions into Canada to perform in Abbotsford, B.C. Problem number one occurred with the suspicious border control officer figured out we were artists, planning on acting for (hopefully) money. He let us through the border, but only with some stern looks. After some driving around the, quite frankly, confusing streets of the city, we found the auditorium where we were scheduled to perform the next night. We also met up with our hostess for the weekend, Judith--the nicest woman ever, with the coolest family to boot. They also have a cat named Sweet Pea, who handled our pet-starved fascination with her with surprising grace. To everyone: thanks for the hospitality!

Something I tend to forget about acting in real festivals in the real world is that I'm kind of a baby. Actually, our whole troop are kind of babies, when compared to the medium age of performers on the fringe circuit. This is cool, since one of my passions is getting youth inspired to take part in art (rhyme!). I remembered this, though, when we started attracting a lot of attention in the relatively small community of this festival. Comments like, "You put your hair in curlers? Wow!" suddenly seemed sinister (alliteration!). The people talking to us were simply trying to be nice and put us at ease; I'm just suspicious, awkward, and self-conscious--a fantastic triple threat, especially in theatre. Our youth also attracted the attention of Jason, a very kind, very talkative older gentleman who was possibly very slightly unstable. He talked to us for hours, both before and after our show. Actually during, too.

My favorite things about Jason:
-He argued with Abby about United States history
-He has stories about everyone in show business, especially Jason Priestley
-He tried to come into our dressing room while we were changing, causing the girls to all but throw Forrest at him in a panic in order to distract him
-He used to play Benjamin Franklin at Disney World, which is controlled, as he darkly says, by "The Mouse"

The show itself went pretty well, despite the small house. My dad, bless him, laughed throughout the whole thing, much to my relief. I was worried that the small numbers would equal small audience response, but people seemed to dig it. The kids at least thought it was fun. Afterwards we all went to Red Robin and caroused at several different tables (the poor seating hostess turned pale when we said we had sixteen in our party). It was really good to see my family, especially since I'd been feeling rather weepy and out of place lately.

Today we crossed back into the U.S. with ease, and The Hulk started back to Walla Walla well ahead of Eddy the Prius. Along the way, we (Beth, Kate, Lisa and I) started listening to "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince" on Lisa's iPod. Twelve chapters into the narrative, we suddenly realized we had no idea where we were. We turned on Mandy (the GPS), only to discover that we were in George, Washington (a real place), and at least two hours outside of Walla Walla. Despite intense wracking of our brains, we have no idea how or when that happened. I blame Jim Dale.

Long story short: we made it safely back to Walla Walla and the sweet comforts of the Danger Zone (my off-campus house). And now, to sleep.

Goodnight.