constant contrast

the great thing about traveling is that the scenery is always changing. your context rotates away like the earth under your feet, spinning from here into there like the stars around the night. and you get the chance to be a different person, even if only in tiny subtle ways occasioned by your interactions with new people.

but there are things you take with you. the same eyes, the same notebooks. your family. just a few things to keep life comfortable.
all exaggeration and sarcasm aside, The Playmill is a wonderful place. my sister and her family are lucky to be a part of it. in classic me style again, I'm pretty jealous. if I had to pick a favourite, it'd be Guys and Dolls. The Secret Garden I've read, and delighted in the music of ever since my former roommate Camille burned me a copy of the soundtrack. likewise the music of Footloose is fairly familiar and the story predictable. but Guys and Dolls was all new to me, hilariously performed, and preceeded by indescribably fabulous pre-show acts.

now I can swallow my tongue, advise you to politely ignore all the firefox quirks, and insist that if you're anywhere near west yellowstone before labor day, you ought to get yourself some tickets.

so I'm not going to stop being the kind of person who notices things like all that outdated code and synopsises full of sloppy spelling. I will always be a bit of a pedantic geek about things like that, I think. but neither will I ever stop being the kind of person who falls in love with anyone and everyone in costume on stage. indeed, that is my only half-excuse for not being brave enough to get on the stage myself. they need a few of us to adore and applaud them.

with any luck I'll be able to convince my grandfather, the man from whom I probably inherited this endless devotion to the theatre, to take me again next month. anyone else want to come?