I've never done things the normal way.
It took me nine years from graduate from college, thanks to a mild case of wanderlust and general indecision. I once dropped everything and moved to Montana because I'd had a nice visit there one time, and wanted an adventure. While many of my peers got married and had kids in their twenties, I held out for nearly 20 years and did it after I turned 40.
And while my choices may have made my parents prematurely grey, my life has turned out just fine. It's turned out perfectly, in fact.
But my penchant for doing things a little backwards has apparently followed me into my middle years, and I find myself in a situation that makes many scratch their heads: I've spent half of my first trimester away from home, doing a play at a theatre in Myrtle Beach.
During the time that hormones are at their most erratic, when moms-to-be lean on (and confound) their partners the most, when all the weird "what is THAT?!" stuff starts happening to our once-familiar bodies...THAT is when I moved myself 663 miles away in the name of art.
I've been away from home since October 29th, when I left to shoot a film in NC, and in Myrtle Beach since November 8th, the day we began rehearsals for A CHRISTMAS STORY. Here is what I miss most, in no particular order:
Walking/cuddling/looking at/cleaning up after my dog
WALKING to run errands
Cold, winter-time weather
New York at Christmas
Seeing familiar faces on the street
Our crazy old Italian landlords, Luigi and Maria
Dixie sitting on the newspaper
Tater talking nonstop
Dean (bears repeating)
I've had a wonderful time here, and am grateful to Thom and Mindi Penn for the opportunity to make fun theatre with them. I'm grateful to my Dad and Linda for turning their condo over to me, and for putting up a Christmas tree to make being away from home a little sweeter. I'm grateful to Mom and Mike and Sharon and Johnny and Aunt Peggy and Jim and Alice and Paul and all the family who came to see the show and remind me that I'm not here all alone.
But coming home late at night to a pet-free condo, spending 90 minutes a day in the car, and sleeping alone is for the birds. I'm ready to get back to my normal life.
However unconventional it may seem.