Posted by jessica on Dec 16, 2009 with
11 Comments
in
Funny Stuff,
Thoughts and Feelings
as
anybody,
country of origin,
hand,
kiosk,
kiosks,
Maryland,
matter of time,
news flash,
Russia,
salesperson,
time,
way
So I went to the mall tonight and actually shopped.
And shopping involves walking which means navigating around those kiosks that are right smack in the middle of wherever you are trying to go. And just when you think you’ve done it, that you’ve successfully gotten past a kiosk and are that much closer to your destination, somebody grabs your hand.
And not just anybody, a salesperson.
And a very convincing one at that.
Usually I tell them no thank you and go on my way, but for some reason this time I stopped. Maybe it’s because he was holding onto my hand, examining my poorly manicured fingers because news flash: I care much more about using my fingers to play instruments than to grow pretty polished nails. And he could tell.
So he went on and on about my hands, the wrinkles and the dryness like I didn’t already know; like I hadn’t spent a lot of time looking at the same hands he was studying now. But then he looked at my face and he stopped because all of the sudden he wanted to guess exactly where I was from.
Because there’s no way it was from here I suppose.
And he tilted back his head in deep thought, willing my exact country of origin to come to him, and meanwhile I was participating in a little countdown of my own. He was telling me to let him think, and I was thinking it was only a matter of time until he arrived at…wait for it…Russia.
And sure enough, I saw his features arrange smoothly in the way they do when someone solves a problem and bam! he looked at me and said it, Russia!, just like that. It wasn’t a question, it was the answer.
And I laughed because I knew he was going to say it. Not because I am psychic but because it’s happened before. A lot. But I told him the truth, that I am a yankee just like him. Actually I didn’t say just like him because his accent was so thick I couldn’t actually be sure that he was a yankee. And I know what you’re thinking–that maybe he’s from Maryland–but no, it sounded even thicker than that.
And then he flattered me. He did it and I knew he was doing it and I let him. He told me I was pretty and kept talking and talking and I got suckered. I knew what he was, that he probably said that kind of stuff to all the girls who came to his kiosk and looked Russian but are actually yankees, but well, if buying some lotion that supposedly came from the dead sea is the worse thing that anybody ever talked me into, then I can live with that.
Because now I feel Russian and pretty and also have some lotion I can give as a gift to a friend and really, what’s so wrong with any of that?
Posted by jessica on Sep 28, 2009 with
No Comments
in
Performance,
photography,
Thoughts and Feelings
as
afternoon performance,
brother jason,
day,
Florida,
food,
Jason,
manatees,
Maryland,
memphis,
migraine,
migraines,
orpheum theater,
pretty good day,
Rebekah,
seeing spots,
show,
something,
theater,
theater/tour,
thoughts/life
Today was a pretty good day.
But then I got myself to the theater. I had planned on taking the warm-up class that our veneered choreographer gives when she is in town, but I didn’t quite leave my hotel in time. Oops.
Something to do with getting up late because of late conversations about cereal.
But I already mentioned that.
So I warmed myself up on stage, which is what I do most of the time anyway. And aside from being afraid that I was about to get a migraine after I stared at the lights a little too long and started seeing spots because of it (the warm-up act for my migraines is what doctors call an aura. I see spots and have blurred vision and it fills me with dread because once the aura comes, I know what is coming next. And if you’ve ever suffered a migraine, than you know what I’m talking about, though I sincerely hope for your sake that you don’t.), I got warm and all that.
Oh yeah, and I didn’t get a migraine. Turns out those bright lights on the stage make you see spots and it doesn’t always mean you’re gonna have to find somebody to please remove your head in just a little while. You’ll know when because I will be squirming and writhing and moaning, thank you. So I was relieved that this wasn’t the case.
And then I did a show. And honestly? I’ve done so many now that it’s hard to remember one itty bitty matinee* on a Sunday.
*notice I said MATINEE, as in
afternoon performance and not, MANATEE, as in large and lovable sea creature that I swam with in Florida. Though I will still probably get at least one comment that says they thought I was confessing I had DONE a MANATEE and
ewwwwwww and isn’t that funny?! And here I go proving my brother
Jason, who once told the world wide web that I often write about manatees on my blog, right yet again by mentioning manatees.
I cannot win.
And if you did think that I said MANATEE instead of MATINEE and happen to think it’s funny, well I agree: it is funny.
Moving on.
So I did the show and it went well and I don’t think I made any mistakes, so that’s good. I even managed to make some people laugh, which is even better than just not making mistakes, if I do say so myself.
But if you sang really badly in front of thousands of people while wearing a leotard you could probably make them laugh too.
Oh, and another part of the day that made it good was that the Eagles won.
Go Green.
But after I woke up kind of late and after I got out of my hotel room late and missed the warm-up class and after I was afraid I was getting a migraine but I was really just underneath some bright lights and after I did a show in which I don’t think I made any mistakes and managed to make some people laugh in the process and after the Eagles won–well, after all that, something great happened.
It looked like this.
And oh my goodness it was so good. If I used expletives I might be tempted to insert one there, just as an accent, just to let you know that Memphis doesn’t joke around when it comes to home cooked meals.
In large platters.
And many different colors.
And lots and lots of butter, I’d bet.
It’s a tradition here at the Orpheum Theater for the ushers and friends of the theater to cook and bake their best from their own respective kitchens and then feed us a feast to end all feasts.
I mean, just look at it.
The only problem was that we had to do another show after this southern feast, so you know, I had to content myself with just
one plate.
One packed plate.
Of food stacked right on top of each other.
Cause I had decided on just one plate.
And the pecan pie was heavenly. Just crumbled goodness on a fork.
Oh, and the sweet potatoes even rivaled my sister-in-law, Rebekah’s. Sorry Rebekah, but it’s true. I didn’t say they were better, mind you; I merely asserted the fact that they were contenders. But I think we can all agree that there is room in this great big world for two different plates of out-if-this-world delicious sweet potatoes.
And Memphis and Maryland are far enough apart from each other to let bygones be bygones, I’d say.
And another great part about this meal?
They gave each of us a to-go box and let us have at it.
So I got to take this
home.
And ate it after the second show, because believe it or not, after that first feast my stomach managed to get hungry all over again.
Yep, a pretty good day.
And oh my goodness it was so good. If I used expletives I might be tempted to insert one there, just as an accent, just to let you know that Memphis doesn’t joke around when it comes to home cooked meals. 
The only problem was that we had to do another show after this southern feast, so you know, I had to content myself with just one plate. 
home. 
