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My brain has officially turned into jell-o.

Two more days left in the workweek and I'm jell-o.
You see, we're stitching velvet. lots and lots of velvet. and it all has to be handstitched before machined.

tech is on Tuesday.

I am dangerously close to singing "I'm A Little Fucking Teapot" at the top of my voice; since we border the management offices, that's not a Good Idea.

There are far worse things to be than jell-o.

Tomorrow, perhaps, I will be a pudding pop.

Watching a play at American Players Theater is unlike any other event. Of course, there are the theatrical pluses: excellent acting, beautiful costumes, etc, etc...but the best part is the setting itself.

Last night I watched "The London Assurance", an 1840s comedy about fashion and manners. I expected to be indifferent; usually that stuff is dry and dull or loaded with childish humor. I loved it. Not only for the plummiest accents ever (haw!), but the actual story was good and fun. The actors were wonderful, playing the aging fop or the bouncing huntress or her doddering husband with great glee. (And the lawyer, Meddle, was excellent--padded butt and everything.)

Last week I saw "Twelfth Night", which has sparked some thinking about how Shakespeare views mockery. I'll ruminate on it further in another post, but to anyone who has seen it--how do _you_ regard Malvolio at the end, especially his "I'll be revenged on the whole pack of you" threat, or the weak apology that Belch makes in saying that it was all done in jest, not for harm.

Plus Orsino, Viola, Olivia, and Sebastian were all damn fun. And in a couple of cases, damned hot. Phew!

Again, though, the best part of seeing a show here is the setting. APT is an outdoor theater, up a hill, surrounded by trees. Walking up the hill in the woods, on a lamplit path from the picnic grounds to the theater, then seeing the clearing and the prairie. The theater area is 'hidden', so until you get to your seat you can't tell what anything really looks like. The 'lobby' has wood-chip floor and a small 'landing'. This landing is used for bug spray. Apply it here, then enter the theater, or spend the night swatting.

Over the course of a show the sun sets. We go from evening brightness to dark, with stars overhead. The whippoorwill calls (driving the audience crazy because he's so damn loud!!) and the owls hoot. Bats flutter through the theater, attracted by all the bugs--which are attracted by the lights. All around the stage is the woods; actors disappear into it, saunter out of it.

And when it's over, the lamplit path leads you down and away.

--More leg room than a plane. About 3’ from my seat to the back of the one ahead. Oooooh yeah. Long-femured people rejoice!
--I got the sucky car, without outlets, so my little cellphone Bigby is going to die a slow death. (I stopped at a Starbucks in Chicago and charged him while I latte-d.)
--Huge windows, of course. Although when greenery is rushing by –directly- outside the window at a dizzying rate, it’s mildly unsettling to the stomach.
--The train is far more worn than any plane I’ve ever been on. Fraying curtains, beading on the upholstery, furnished in late 70s browns and reds. Air travel ends up seeming cleaner.
--Ginormous ceiling racks! Screw this carryon limit shit!!
--Odd reactions to fellow passengers. “I hope they’re nice people. I also hope they get out at Albany.”
--Boston is big sky country too…but we never look at it. That is, our “window” to observe the sky is bounded by high buildings, hills, and only when the sky seems to expand forever outward over the cornfield does it become recognizably big sky country.
--The constant slight jostling that occurs when we’re at certain speeds makes even a half-full bladder very unhappy. And train restrooms…agh…eccch.
--Graffiti under a bridge: Love is like snow. You don’t know how deep it will be or how long it will last.

My main idea about trains is that traveling on one feels like traveling through an infinity of back yards. Affluent, run-down, tired, trimmed, wild, neat, laundry on the line, kids in the pool.

I'll be on my way in about four hours. South Station through Albany through Cleveland to Chicago, roughly.

Posts to LJ will, of course, be sporadic while I'm in WI. I also don't know how much time I'll have to comment, etc, etc, ya ya ya. Whaddya want? You're already getting postcards from me! (Assuming you've emailed me your address...)

I return sometime around 8/16 or so. MrTheMan is being amazing and --driving--to--Wisconsin-- to come and get me! Then we're road-tripping back across the heartland, trying not to hit cows or Detroit. This means I get to show him the great features of Wisconsin. Like The Shed, the local bar. And lunchboxes. And the General Store's pancakes. And ButterBurgers. And custard. And Taliesin. And maybe House on the Rock.

I miss him so much when we're apart. He probably gets the worst of it, since he has to deal with a house where I'm not there, rather than a house where he's never been.

Meanwhile, it's a beautiful day for travelling. 20 hours on a train! I wonder if I'll love it or hate it by the end. My first post will be the collected interesting bits of crosscountry Amtrak.

And stealthmuffin made me the coolest mix cd ever for the trip. That, plus the Sherlock Holmes dvds, are the treasured possessions in my backpack today. Ah, Jeremy Brett...