Hot. Part One of Part Two: Dead Creek

When I really joined the human side of the interwebs (as in: when I joined nancies mailing list), I learned the hard way that online characters can severely differ from their real personalities. The lesson came for example in a stalker who wouldn't leave me alone for three years.

Meh.

Nancies mailing list was an entertaining, unkind, hilarious, fickle downward spiral of flaming, gossip, ass kissing and ass kicking. I loved it. I even managed to make friends on and off it, and they were the embodiment of 'looks can deceive', or rather 'the written word can deceive'.

Whoops - the clown whose posts 90% of the list couldn't even comprehend, turned out to be a provocative, intelligent but most of all incredibly loyal and fun friend.

Sarah - the quiet type who hardly ever posted, was in fact an incredibly determined, vocal and thoughtful lady, who trots the globe like she owns the thing (and most of the time, she does).

Sharon - the snarky sarcast, who was much more shy than I'd ever imagined and, although we've fallen in and out of touch, still reaches out when you most definitely need it.

I could go on and on, but I won't. nancies was crowded and after nancies I joined other media and the list of examples would grow out of proportion. The point is: arriving at Dead Creek, unofficial camping site of the venue Deer Creek and official 'Home of the DMB Freaks', I was once again baffled how I can be so right about 'online' people, yet at the same time so wrong. There's something pretty awesome about meeting people you've 'known' online for years - some for almost a decade - for the first time. Legends aren't so legendary, subdued becomes spontaneous, sharp as a razor purrs like a kitten in the sun. You see them as old friends you haven't laid eyes on in ages.

I loved it. I loved them. The familiar as well as the unfamiliar faces. I loved their dynamics. Their antics. Their inside jokes. Their differences and the mutual respect for it.

What can I say? Some watch birds, I watch people.

The camping site is situated on the fields of a farmer, who apparently pays his mortgage by renting out his property for about four concerts runs a year. You pay, you set up your tent. He provides port-a-potties and makes sure there's catering. If you can hold your breath and have strong thighs, the peeing situation is bearable. Staying away from catering is advised though, because I don't want to imagine what a daily dose of funnel cake, fried Oreos and candied apple will do for your bowels - without a decent toilet nearby.

There were four things, other than our group, which dominated the Dead Creek experience.

- IT WAS FECKING HOT. Hot. Hothothot. No weather for a Dutch person. Sweating my eyes out. So hot. God it was hot. No wind. Just humidity. Eff 30 Celcius and calling it a heat wave. Eff that. Try 35 and tangible, stifling, thick as grits air. And then walk a mile :).

- Five PM starts at about noon. I haven't drunk so much beer since my university years. You'd sweat it out immediately though, so it's all good.

- Hotness + humidity = storm. In the middle of the night. And nono - not a good old fashioned Dutch storm. Not some lightning, some thunder, a shit load of rain. Are you Dutch? You know our infamous October storms, right? Triple that and add another swimming pool of wet. Sarah, God bless her, had offered me the inflatable bed and slept on the camping mat herself. So she got the grunt of it. But yeah, even I was soaked. Our tent was very strategically placed between cars, so at least we didn't end up with a table in our foreheads.

- The food. 1. Let it be known that Cuong Vu can cook. Well. 2. Let it be known that part of 'Giving Esther the American Experience' entailed eating all of the fried stuff mentioned prior, Gripos (some sort of chips), pretzels (about 100 times the size of our pretzels and so much better) and an insane lack of good coffee. Yes, I eat lack of good coffee. I chew on it. It's hard to digest. I don't recommend it.

Needless to say, I had a blast. I'm sure you don't want to hear about flabongos, icing someone, team USA, monopoly money, the phrase 'That's what she said', high fives from lickables, a gambling game called LRC and how I had to text myself through Holland vs. Japan because of the storm.

I'll just say that once again, as in 2002, I thrust myself into a group of people who have known each other for years and I felt absolutely welcome. People were kind, considerate, interested, funny as hell and they made the experience for me.

I love America.

(will add pictures later)

(up next: the shows)

Hot. Part One.

Basically my trip started somewhere past midnight the day after the one which should have been my first day off work. You could say I left the Netherlands being stressed the F out. However, the major perks of my morning were

1. Joyce (my co-worker and friend) drove me to the airport, which definitely beats having to go by train
2. I could get myself through security with the new do-it-yourself passport check. Saved me about half an hour of waiting
3. Amsterdam will be Amsterdam and I could smoke in the pretty lounges while I waited for boarding to start
4. Thanks to my new phone, I could at least pass the time online

Less fun were the constant phone calls from work, which left me exclaiming "What the hell are you going to do when I'm up in the air?" What do we do when we are frustrated and stressed? Right, we shop. So shopping I went. Bought a new camera, and cigarettes, and nicotine pills for on the plane, and a magazine, and an orange Holland shirt for Jen & Matias' kid.

The flight was okay. Flying long distances is uncomfortable but there's nothing you can do about it. It sucked that the mediasystem crashed and now I won't ever know what the ending is of that wonderful movie called Valentine's Day (/sarcasm). My transfer was in New York, where I thought it was bloody hot (but what did I know). Descending towards Newark, it became painfully apparent that I really, REALLY need to visit NYC.

Got an hour delay on the flight to Nashville, my ears hurt like a mofo during landing, but it's all good, because at the end of the gate, there was Sarah! Dude, I ran. It was like a movie scene that wouldn't have been out of place in Valentine's Day. But I was just really happy to finally be there, that my ears weren't bleeding and to see Sarah.

Sarah had warned me that it was hot and humid in Nashville, but Oh My God. I was only wearing a legging, dress and a thin sweater but when I stepped out the doors and went outside, the heat hit me like a brick wall. Needless to say, the first priority was getting me into something cooler (after getting an iced coffee at Starbucks and a smoke or 10). It was already after 8 PM, so we only went out for something to eat at this hip & happenin' place called Burgers Up. I had a salad and tried some of Sarah's sweet potato fries. Damn, those are good! After that, I had been up for 24 hours with about two half hour naps crammed in, so I crashed on Sarah's couch. Where I managed to get six hours of sleep because I'm old and my body is annoyingly stubborn.

On Thursday, it was time to see the sights in Nashville. Nashville - as you should know - has recently been flooded and it was kind of eerie to see the signs of that disaster on the buildings. About up to a meter from the ground up, the paint on the houses was chaffing. It really made the concept of what had happened more real.

We opted for a backstage tour at the Ryman Auditorium, an 1892 building that currently serves as a concert hall. We had to wait a while before the tour would start and wandered down what I remember being called Broadway, towards Cumberland River (?). we could see huge dark clouds coming in, definitely a storm underway, and we made it back to the Ryman just in time - before the floodgates opened.

The tour was kind of fantastic. I'm not knowledgable at all when it comes to country music, but the tour guide was very good and you could feel the grandness of the things that had happened there. I loved being on the stage, sitting in Sarah's favorite seats, standing in Johnny Cash's dressing room. The balcony was a part of the building which they had added for a Confederation Army reunion, which the tour guide almost apologized for - felt bad about that. Really, what do I know? It's not like the Netherlands doesn't have some serious dark history, which makes something like the Confederacy pale in comparison.






























After the tour we went back on Broadway and stepped inside a poster shop called Hatch Show Print. They make the most awesome posters the old fashioned way; by cutting wooden boards and then have a few print rounds - so in true fashion, hand made posters. I bought a fantastic one with a nostalgic feel to it... of a coffee pot.






































We had lunch at Whiskey Kitchen, of course I had some sweet potato fries again, and watched France making an ass of itself on the big screen. We shopped.
- Baby Gap! I scored 15 dollar All Stars for Yannick which he actually wants to wear (not too big on new shoes, usually)
- Ugg's sandals for my neighbor for 60 dollars!
- A&F shirts for my new 17-year old BFF! God, I hate that store!
- And we bought groceries for our upcoming trip to Deer Creek.

We had dinner at Cheese Cake Factory (seriously, half the trip was about food) and although I like the Red Velvet White Chocolate cheese cake - it was too rich for me and I prefer the Dutch kind. Gasp! I know - not like me but honesty comes first. we finished the evening with drinks at a fancy but not posh place called Patterson House, which was actually in a house. It made the atmosphere that much more intimate. I met a couple of Sarah's friends who are funny as hell, so that evening was a success. Crashed on the couch again, getting maybe 5 hours of sleep. God, I hate me.







































That rounds up the Nashville part of my trip. To come: Deer Creek and Indianapolis.

Hey you, get off of my cloud

I just hung up with a clearly intoxicated ex-husband. Yannick is here with me, safe in his bed, by the way. That's not the issue. The issue is that he's an alcoholic and he's going down that slippery slope again (I recently learned that expression - it's dead on).

The part that worries me most, isn't that he's drinking on a night Yannick is not there with him. The part that worries me, is that he's in fucking denial again. Once again, the excessive drinking was the marriage's fault (also known as: it was your fault). Once again, I am to ask about his drinking when Yannick is there (he's not - I do believe him (and my mom having checked up on him), but I also know that this road might very well lead to: not yet), but not about what he does in his own time. Once again, he feels like throwing in he has a new girlfriend, all boasting. Once again, he's suggesting stupid stuff - this time that Yannick didn't miss me when I was away. And the best part: the stuff that put my son in danger when we were still married, the stuff that made me decide to walk away and keep walking, that stuff is once again labeled a minor incident.

Thanks so much, asshole. Because this time, again, you talking out of your ass is a sure sign that you cannot be trusted in your judgment. And now, I'm back balancing on that tight rope again, praying to god that it'll work out if I keep my cool and try and talk to him when he's sober and I don't have to act in a way that will hurt my son, no matter if it's in his best interest under these conditions. His best interest is for us to be as stable as possible - this world is going to be hard enough for him as it is.

I'm really going to blog about my trip. The damn world cup keeps getting in the way :)

gone fishing

Well, sailing. Report on USA trip to come!

Meanwhile - enjoy this...

No use crying over spilled milk

Crisis averted. My co-worker just told me to snap out of it and she would kick me on that plane if she had to.

And just because these make me happy:

I'm not the champion

I love my job. But right now, it's killing me. For once, I'd like to go on vacation without feeling like I can't. To be honest, I'm a little scared I won't even have a job when I get back. I know being stressed out doesn't help keeping reality in check. Anyway, Debby Downer over here.

In better news: Netherlands - Denmark: 2 - 0.

Because of the absolute ban on the game at the office, I didn't get to see it. But we had my co-worker's kid text us the updates.

I had so much fun yesterday. We recorded a kind of spoof of the musical. It was hilarious and creative and as silly as it may sound, it left me smiling throughout the day. Seems like a different universe.

Riiiiiiiiiiight. Get back to work, Debby.

High School Musical 1, 2 & 3

Act 1
Ah, I did it. I went and be in a musical.

Seriously - a musical. I don't even particularly like musicals.

My former class mate Jeroen wrote the score for a musical and my former teacher Ton wrote the script. They based the story on the Alexandre Dumas novel The Black Tulip and got together a cast. They wanted to put up a pilot and sell the thing to theater producers. It was all downhill from there.

Cue the "Especially after you joined"-joke.

So after six months of rehearsals, I got to hyperventilate on stage again. Me? Huge stage fright. Huge. I used (emphasis on the past tense) to get the leads in plays, probably because I was the bold kid and tend to not give a shit about making an ass of myself. Until after the fact. I mean, I tend to get my foot stuck in my mouth way too often to even entertain the idea that I can help it. But I digress. The point is, I developed a serious anxiety to getting on stage - and this is why I do it. Show them all! Mostly myself.

The cast was interesting. Ages varied from 15 to 75 year old. Former teachers and students, parents and current students. The common denominator should have been that they all could sing. SHOULD. I mean, I don't expect everyone to be bust out a high keyed "I will always love you" flawlessly, but you should at least be able to hold a key, right? God knows that I am no Barbra Streisand (I had to sing the men's part in two of the songs because my high pitch is shot - smoking is bad, kids), but I can carry a tune. It won't raise goose bumps - neither the good nor the bad kind. But that didn't matter, because I didn't have any solos. All of us being able to sing pretty reasonably, was what made the chorus line quite strong. With four notable exceptions.

Three of them could sing extraordinary. Not that all of them were equally well trained, they just had that voice. The kind of voice that moves you. Needless to say, one of them was the lead actor (a 17th century doctor/scientist) and the other two had big parts and solos.

The fourth exception? Was tone deaf. F-ing tone deaf. I had to stand next to her during a couple of rehearsals and it literally hurt. It wasn't even that her voice was awful, she just couldn't hit the notes right because she couldn't hear right. And they gave her the other lead.

Of course I flat out asked the director (same guy who wrote the script) about this (bold kid, remember) and his reasoning was the chemistry between the lead actors and her acting abilities. He said acting prevailed singing. Now, I love my former teacher. I worship him. He's the reason I didn't go insane in high school. But, dude - it's a musical. The singing part is pretty much essential, me thinks.

You can imagine this blew, right? Fortunately, she only had one solo and a couple of duets. They changed some parts to parlando (talking on music). She got singing classes and extra rehearsals. Things got a little better. But the solo, oh God help us all, the solo.... Somewhere down the road they offered her a way out, saying she could switch parts with one of the talents I just mentioned. She didn't take the offer. To be honest, in spite of best intentions, I think it was mostly cruel to her, to have her do it. She had to work with a co-star with a really great voice - how's she ever going to hold up to that?

Anyway, what started out as a weird, kind of scattered group of cast members, turned into one of the most fun crews I have been a part of during a production. In the end, I even befriended a 17-year old (B, probably the best singer in the crew). She's young of course, but was hilarious and just tremendously energizing. Not to mention I thrive on passion. And she had a drive you don't often see.

We all had so much fun. We knew that small parts of the show would be weak (see prior bitching), but everyone worked very hard and gave everything they had. I slipped on stage during a dance rehearsal, hurt my hand pretty badly but I'd be damned if it would keep me from practicing. And I've got to hand it to keyless girl - she got up there on opening night, sang her way through it all, through the hisses and gasps of the crowd and only cried about it once. And got up on stage the next night like nothing had happened.






























Act 2
The shows were the bomb. Like I said, I was in the chorus line for the most part and among other songs, we had to do two songs in which 'the people of Holland' first threaten and then actually kill two of our historical forefathers; Cornelis and Johan de Witt. Right. Up. My. Ally. Esther loves her some acting menacing. Oh, the people I imagined shoving my prop stick in... Therapy.

The crowd was enthusiastic, and honest. My friend Ellis worded it perfectly. She said she had a blast, she was impressed by the acting and singing skills of the cast and then "it all got shot to hell and I remembered I was watching amateurs", because of the female lead. Fortunately, Ellis managed to get back into it after the dreaded solo.

I had a small part as Judge. The male lead, R, continuously fucked up that scene during rehearsals either by purposefully making me laugh or messing up his lines so I had to alter my own, but it went smoothly when it counted. My mom especially raved about my 'silent play' as Judge in the final scene. Yeah, I don't know what to make of that. Me? I'd rather be vocal. Come to think of it, that's probably why she loved it so much.

The entire cast visibly had a blast on stage. We all had a blast off stage (me, R and B particularly). I cried a little after the last show. It's like post tour blues; you're sad, but it reminds you of the immense fun you've just had.


































































Act 3
The after party. Oh God, the after party. Questionable Italian food. Way too loud conversation and tons of laughs at the Grote Markt (downtown Den Haag). Teenagers and emotional fall-outs drinking too much. B didn't eat all day and started puking after chugging back three tequilas with beer chasers. Dragged B home (did I mention I love living downtown?), called her dad who picked her up in the middle of the night. He had hardly left when we got a call from Keyless Girl, who asked to pick her up at some really shady bar she didn't know the name of. Figured out where she was, picked up Keyless Girl, dragged her home. Ready to dubbing my casa to 'night care center'. Keyless Girl lost her purse with her phone in it. Biked back to shady bar. No purse. Keyless Girl starts passing out on my couch. Doesn't want to call her boyfriend (father to her two kids). Starts mumbling stuff about "You don't want me here, nobody wants me" and presto, passes out on my couch.

The night was saved with great conversation with R about psychology, politics and philosophy, followed by drunken conversation with R - we kept drinking really bad red wine. Brought R to the station at 5 in the morning (Keyless still sleeping on couch), crashed, and got up at 8 to go to my management meeting. Unsteady legs and everything.

What am I? 25?

That following day was filled with hysterical phone calls, mostly about Keyless, who's boyfriend didn't believe she had innocently slept on my couch. The drama proceeded into drama.

But it was worth it. So much. I want to do it again!



































Other news
I've realized that I'm pretty kick ass in all my imperfection. I think I was convinced that the fun, "younger" part of life was over and lost in the divorce, but somehow those shows and the conversation and the after party proved me dead wrong. Life's just beginning.

Y finally got into the school I really wanted him in. I'm so happy about that.

My brother was also in a play last week - Romeo & Juliet. He got a great, personal review by a well-known reviewer. I'm so incredibly happy for him. He deserved it and the timing is dead on.

I voted in the national elections today :(. Well, I always vote but I always vote blank (long story, it's something I firmly believe in). But today I actually voted for a party. So the other asshole won't win - if I can help it, which is a joke, I know. So I voted for the party with the least parental program because that's the only option holding a faint echo of my own beliefs. And the whole thing doesn't sit right with me - at all.

I'm leaving in a week :)