Posted by jessica on Nov 19, 2009 with
8 Comments
in
I Lift My Eyes Up,
Performance,
photography,
Thoughts and Feelings
as
A Chorus Line,
anything,
bamboo forrest,
birth center,
city,
don miller,
emoji,
God,
Japan,
mental energy,
Miles,
picture,
sentimental/inspiration,
sort,
time
It’s weird, I sort of already forgot about this.
I mean, I know I haven’t really. And I know it happened and all that, but I’ve barely given it any thought at all. Not until I looked at this picture, actually. And how strange it is to not be going back to some city sometime soon, for a soundcheck at four and the hope of a Whole Foods that is within a walkable distance.
In a book I recently read, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, Don Miller talks about a guy he knows who keeps a notebook with him and writes down everything that he can remember. All the time. He wants to record his memories because otherwise he’d forget, he says, and I get that. Because although it might not be so bad to forget that time you waited at the DMV for an hour with nothing to do but listen to the sounds of the security guards urging you to please stay in line! and then next! to the person who is unfortunately 50 paces in front of you, it could be sad to forget that time you first met your little niece exactly eleven years ago. And when you walked outside from the birth center to the car that night it looked like the stars had been polished and buffed to the point where God could see his face in them, the newness of that little girl in your life was so radiant.
And I guess that’s why pictures are nice too.
They are memories in colors and stills.
Like, I hardly ever think about Japan. I mean, I do occasionally use the emoji app on my iphone, but that’s about as much mental energy as I give to anything Japanese lately. Call me present minded, I guess.
But I look at this picture and suddenly I cannot deny that I’ve been there.

Walking in a bamboo forrest that dwarfed me.
I remember the way the light was barely lasting, the sun was setting and couldn’t quite reach around the bend in the road anymore.
And no matter what it feels like sometimes, it’s good to remember that there are some things that are true. It’s good to write them down, to take pictures of the love you’ve shared and the places you’ve walked.
I’ve been to Japan.
I’ve swam with manatees.
But more than anything else, I love and I am loved and I have so many memories that can be given as conclusive evidence to support this theory.
But I’ll still keep writing it down, because I don’t want to forget.
Posted by jessica on Nov 16, 2009 with
8 Comments
in
Performance,
Thoughts and Feelings
as
A Chorus Line,
cathartic,
day,
Denver,
fact,
feeling something,
God,
height differences,
kindred spirits,
last show,
Mindy,
sentimental/inspiration,
show,
something,
theater/tour,
time,
tiny women,
Tony
Remember when I said that I wasn’t feeling a thing?
Yeah well, about that.
I started feeling something.
A lot of something. And the closing show tonight was amazing. Emotional. Exhausting. Beautiful. Magical. So sad. And so good.
But before that, I had a moment with some of my favorite ladies in the show. They are kind and safe, funny and kindred spirits. They love their men, respectively, and know what it is to begin to hate the phone because no, it’s not enough, it’s never enough when it comes to sharing your life.
We had already finished our first show of the day and proceeded to share a cast dinner in the theater when I quietly stole away to the piano. After about a half hour or so I hear a gentle knock on the door, and they walk in. Three beautiful, tiny women. Seriously, they range from 5’1 to 5’3 on a good day and when we are all together I find our height differences so funny. They ask me if they are bothering me and of course I say no. They’ve yet to bother me, in fact. They tell me that they could hear the strains of my playing from the dressing room and felt like they needed to be with me on this last day listening to the music.
Mindy pipes up, Can you play that song? The one you wrote about us?
Sure, I say, hoping that I remember all the words and chords cause it’s been a while.
I play and as I do, I start to feel it. This great sadness. This acceptance of our parting. This breaking up of such a sweet community. I play that song and then I play another and by the time I finish we are just crying and so we talk. We share and are real and it’s like therapy only nobody needs to pay anybody and nobody gets kicked out after fifty minutes.
It’s cathartic and broken and honest and I think we love each other maybe even a little more when we finally get up to ready ourselves for the last show.
The last show.
But first I take some time to be sentimental. I walk on the stage and gaze out. I go over to our quick change station and see all our headshots lined up and ready to be put in dance bags at the onset of the show.

They are just faces, black and white features on cardboard, but to me, they are so much more. The kind of bond you create with people you’ve lived, worked, laughed, and literally been with for over a year and a half is staggering. It gets to be a part of you without even realizing it and suddenly you leave and you wonder at the bereft feeling that is left; you feel the ghost pains, so to speak, of the missing part and you might as well get used to it, I guess. It’s gonna hurt for a while. But it’s a good hurt.
I don’t think I’ll miss the gold hat so much.

It’s pretty heavy and you can pop yourself in the forehead pretty badly if you’re not careful. But after you do it once, you learn to be careful. Believe me. I don’t think I’ve done that since opening in Denver last April, actually.
But I will miss what it means to wear that gold hat. The fact that you’re in a show. The great story of it, the transformation that happens when you step on that stage. A friend of mine who has a resume that would impress God always says something whenever she leaves a show: If I am lucky enough to do another show…And there’s a humility in that that I like. True, she’s so talented and beautiful and accomplished that come on, she’s gonna do another show. But the truth is we don’t ever know, not really. Which makes me grateful for the job when it happens.
And here I am, as Kristine for the last time.

At my station. Which no, is not the neatest on the block, but neatness has never won anyone a Tony or a Grammy or even an Emmy, for that matter.
Though I am looking forward to going home again. And keeping a home. Even keeping it neat. A girl can learn, right?
Posted by jessica on Nov 15, 2009 with
7 Comments
in
Performance,
photography,
Thoughts and Feelings
as
A Chorus,
A Chorus Line,
different this time,
foot of the cross,
God,
Jesus Christ,
jesus christ superstar,
Line,
Mary Magdalene,
merch table,
room,
show,
sweatshirt,
theater/tour,
time,
whole shebang
Took me over a year and a half, but I finally bought a sweatshirt. An A Chorus Line sweatshirt, that is. There’s nothing like an actual deadline to make you get something done. The whole time I have been on this tour I’ve been meaning to get a sweatshirt, but when the notice went up [...]
Posted by jessica on Nov 13, 2009 with
6 Comments
in
Performance,
photography,
Thoughts and Feelings
as
A Chorus Line,
Cassie,
leotard,
monumental task,
packaging supplies,
Parcels,
parr,
Paul,
side,
Stuff,
theater,
theater/tour,
time to go home,
way
Boxes. Parcels. Packages. Do those words incite the same kind of excitement in you as they do me? And no, I am not talking Christmas here. Not yet, anyway. But it’s on parr with that, I’d say–the greatest of holidays. It’s time to go home. To box up my stuff, tape it up tight, and [...]
Posted by jessica on Oct 28, 2009 with
No Comments
in
Funny Stuff,
Performance,
Thoughts and Feelings
as
A Chorus Line,
anti smoking campaigns,
broadway cares equity fights aids,
Canada,
cigarette,
dumb joke,
fan mail,
friend joey,
Joey,
part,
Sheila,
show,
smoke,
story,
theater/tour
Tonight I was backstage signing posters for Broadway Cares/Equity Fights Aids when my friend Joey told me I had to read something. I made some dumb joke in response and he reiterated that I really had to read it. Okay, I will, I said nonchalantly, most of my energy going to making that large J [...]
Posted by jessica on Oct 24, 2009 with
No Comments
in
Performance,
Thoughts and Feelings
as
A Chorus Line,
cast,
Chorus,
chorus line,
Detroit,
drew,
first wives club,
God,
Japan,
Line,
misty eyes,
morning bus,
New York,
ready to go home,
sentimental/inspiration,
show,
theater/tour,
time
I have 28 shows left of A Chorus Line. Even as I type this, it’s hard to really comprehend. Already, there are some misty eyes in the cast as I look around the stage during the show. If the last few times we’ve had closing performances for cast members are any indication, I will probably [...]
Posted by jessica on Sep 24, 2009 with
No Comments
in
Funny Stuff,
Performance,
Thoughts and Feelings
as
A Chorus Line,
Bethany Beach,
Christmas,
christmas album,
goal,
goals,
humor,
kick step,
kitchen ceiling,
memories,
mine,
sewing,
sewing machine,
talk,
theater/tour,
tight hamstrings,
time
Lately I have been possessed with this desire to learn to sew. But I just read in a magazine that “people who tell others their newest goals too soon often end up not doing them. It is better to start working on the goal, and after having done it consistently, talk about it.” Okay. So [...]
Posted by jessica on Aug 13, 2009 with
No Comments
in
Funny Stuff,
Performance,
Thoughts and Feelings
as
A Chorus Line,
America,
Brandon,
earth,
earth quake,
earthquakes,
God,
Japan,
mayonnaise,
pennsylvania,
quake,
sleep last night,
something,
Sterling,
table,
theater/tour,
time japan,
tokyo,
torture devices,
trusting god
Okay first, don’t be jealous, but there’s something I have to tell you. Not only does my current toilet come installed with a bidet, it also has a seat warmer. Enough said. Second, this whole earth quake situation has me mildly freaked out. Well, if the realization that you really can do nothing about it [...]