Flowers of The Thai Temple

During another trip to Wat Mongkolratanaram, the Buddhist Thai Temple of Tampa, I was able to catch these lovely shots of blooming flowers.

DRIP’s Final Show on International Drive

Saturday, January 27th was DRIP’s final show on International Drive. As we look ahead and focus on new projects I can’t help but see how far we have already come. We spent five years creating a stunning show and forging unique friendships. Our last show was full of amazing people who helped us materialize this colorful dream. I can’t wait to see where we go from here.

Stephanie, playing Yellow, setting up the jean drops.

Sam, playing Red, mixing paint.

Mariko, playing Blue, putting some finishing touches on the paint shower.

The Paint Station.

The beautiful mess that comes from mixing the colors before the show.

Catching Mariko while she gets ready. 

Myself with Mandy and Megan, who multitask as crew and bartenders.

Chris the drummer.

Myself with Lou the bass player and Sarah the bartender.

The cast list for the final show.

My “before” picture.

Doug, DRIP’s biggest fan, made it to the show from out of town and surprised me with flowers!

Doug waiting with crew member Kam in the hallway before the start of the show. 

Current and former cast members Justin, Amber, David, Mandy, and Sarah eagerly watching the show.

Yellow’s entrance during Exchange.

The Band.

Lou.

Yellow’s big moment.

Doug’s lovely speech to Mariko.

Lou, myself, original cast member Jessie, and guitarist Micah factiming Jessie’s boyfriend Dakota.

Jessie and Justin.

Enthusiastic guests dancing on the Paint Sation.

Mariko and Justin F. dancing in the Paint Shower.

My “after” picture.

Me and Justin.

Mariko and Mandy creating a custom DRIP shirt.

Jessie and myself, 3:00am after party at Denny’s.

Justin.

The Central Florida Scottish Highland Games

I had wanted to go to the Scottish Highland Games for years. It was an especially nice treat after an emotional week. My sister Jenny joined me and we spent the day outdoors in perfect weather enjoying all the sights and events the day had to offer. 

Taking in the wonderful view and lively music. 

This fearlessly enthusiastic little boy was overjoyed to meet the horses.

Jenny and the Steampunk Scotsman.

We met a man named Dennis while we were in line for fish and chips. He actually plays Santa during the holidays. We jokingly asked him why we never got the pony that we had asked for years ago. He laughed and said “everyone always leaves cookies out but I prefer lasagna!”

Children enjoying rolling down the hill. 

These children were captivated by this little scottish terrier pulled by a remote controlled toy car.

Eight Days of January

Monday, January 1st

I got home from a wonderful DRIP New Years Eve show around 5am and slept through most of the day. I met my sister Liz for a nice dinner while she was in town for the day.

Tuesday, January 2nd 

I showed up for a company meeting and found out that DRIP will close its doors on International Drive at the end of the month. I was completely caught off guard. Our sales and audience attendance had been great. The New Years Eve show we had just done was packed as usual. But our CEO had wanted to regroup and focus on new projects with DRIP. I have always had faith in her vision and trust in her judgement. I believe that this is the best way to move us forward but I’ve been with her the longest. I remember her getting the venue on International Drive - an enormous feat in it’s own right. We worked for a year getting the show ready, painting the walls black, ripping up the awful carpet and wallpaper, building the bar from scraps. I look at old photos of the building and almost get jet lag realizing how far we’ve come. I can be a sentimental fool but she’s never been so in love with her own creation that she would hold her self back from deconstructing the whole thing if she felt she could make it better. And that’s her genius - she can always make it better. At the end of the meeting we were all astonished and still taking it all in. I reached out to hug her and pulled her close. “Whatever you come up with next - I’m in!”

Wednesday, January 3rd

I was messaged via Facebook about the 20 year reunion for my middle school class of 1998. Suddenly I was seeing names and faces I hadn’t thought of in years. Some were married, some had children. The lives of my former classmates was fleshing out at lightning speed. My past was coming full circle.

I was also contacted by Nicole, a girl I had known in middle school who had picked on me quite a bit. She had written me an apology for the way she had treated me all those years ago. I was completely floored. I already had a flood of emotions I was dealing with at DRIP and I wasn’t ready for this. We were so young and I never felt victimized by her - but I remember feeling confused. I had always thought I had done or said something to upset her and was never sure how to go about addressing it. Her heartfelt letter opened up a conversation I never thought I would have. We’ve both come a long way since middle school. Seeing pictures of her with her wife, crusading for equal rights filled me with admiration. She is lovely inside and out and I am overjoyed to count her among my friends. 

My touching conversation with Nicole also made me reflect on all the times in 2016 and 2017 I had been horribly mistreated by ex boyfriends, potential dates, co-workers, managers, customers, and members of my own family. The only apology I had ever been offered was from Nicole, who reached out for things done twenty years ago when we were children. That made her words all the more profound and sincere. She came out of the blue to remind me that there are people in this world who choose to shine with integrity and class and for that she has earned my endearing respect. 

Thursday, January 4th

The stray cat I had been feeding for a few months was limping and had a large open wound on his shoulder. The temperature had been dropping into the 30’s and I was becoming concerned his health would worsen. My friend loaned me trap and tried to lure him in with some food. He seemed hesitant so I went back inside. A few moments later I heard the trap spring shut and rushed outside. I was disappointed to see that another stray had rushed into the trap, and the injured cat I’d been hoping to save had been scared away. As I went to release the panicking cat from the trap he bit my hand and disappeared into the neighborhood. 

Friday, January 5th

Although I had taken great care to wash my hands repeatedly and treat the bite with peroxide the night before, it seemed to get more sore and swollen as the day progressed. I spent my lunch break at a clinic getting a tetanus shot and antibiotics. I couldn’t wait to go home but I ended up staying at work two hours past closing because of a network outage.

Saturday, January 6th

I was so physically and emotionally burned out I slept through most of the day. Sluggish on antibiotics I willed myself to get through the DRIP show. I was not scheduled for the clean up crew that night because we were supposed to be celebration our CEO’s birthday. I had been looking forward to it all week but left early to go back to bed. 

Sunday, January 7th

I had to deal with the Orange County Animal Services. When I got treated at the clinic for the cat bite it got recorded as a potential rabies incident. Although I showed none of the signs or symptoms or rabies, or even suspected any of the neighborhood cats of having rabies, they still had to follow their protocol and leave a trap out for ten days in an attempt to catch that cat that bit me. The woman they sent to leave the trap was very nice and she was hopeful that I might be able to catch the injured stray I had been aiming for. I was completely disheartened. The cat that bit me was so terrified by the trap I hadn’t seen him in days. I had seen the injured stray but he was anxious of the trap since he had seen it go off and he was keeping his distance. I was worried I was about to get ten days of trapped raccoons. 

I took a nap and woke up to terrible news. Jim, the artist I had gone out with once a few months ago, had passed away suddenly. Beyond the week in the summer we met and parted ways I had only spoken to him one other time. It was during Hurricane Irma. He was one of the people I felt compelled to check on. I sent him a text and asked if he was in a safe place. He responded “Hey thanks for caring, spent night w momma at her house ,all good just no power, you?”. I always thought that was such a remarkably pleasant response given that we hadn’t talked in months. I was glad he was ok but we never spoke again after that. 

Our brief meeting seemed to highlight the best and worst 2017 had to offer. Although our upbringings were vastly different we shared many of the same views, interests, experiences, and personality traits. I had never felt the joy of being seen, found, and appreciated by another artist only to be objectified and rejected only a few days later. In his pushing me away I was spared much of the grief of his passing but not the shock. My Facebook feed burst into sorrow from people who’ve know him far better and longer than I did. Their touching memories fill my eyes with tears. Regardless of his personal shortcomings he was immensely talented and far too young. 

Monday, January 8th 

I wake up feeling hung over. I drag myself out of bed and try to start my morning routine. I notice my cats keep staring at the doorway. I look out the window and in the dark of the early morning I can see the trap door is closed but I can’t see what is caught inside. “Oh shit” I mumble to myself. Surely this is the beginning of the raccoon parade. I open the door and see the injured stray I’ve been trying to save staring up at me from inside the cage. Still in shock I race to get dressed so I can take him to my vet’s office before I have to be at work. He never made a fuss in the car, just sat calmly the entire ride. 

Once at work I had to wait anxiously for the vet’s follow up call. I could feel the week long emotional tidal wave crashing all around me. So much happiness, so much sorrow. Too much change and uncertainty. Nothing to hold on to. I wasn’t sure how to feel. 

Finally, the vet’s office called. The cat was about two years old. His leg was mostly healed already and because he’d been outside in the cold he didn’t even have fleas. He had also miraculously tested negative for feline aids and feline leukemia so I could take him home. He was fixed and I got to pick him up at the end of my shift. I named him Jax. 

The car ride home was just as calm as the initial ride to the vet. I brought him inside and unleashed the general chaos that comes when introducing a new animal to long established pets. Then I sat down as started writing. Normally I write after I have had time to let the emotions settle but this was different. I didn’t have anyone to talk to. I wanted to cry for days but the tears wouldn’t flow. I had to write in order to settle the emotions. 

I sat on the couch with my iPad in my lap and stared at Jax in the other room hiding under my bed. Jax’s left arm was healing and my left hand was recovering from the cat bite. He was about two years old and I’d come off a rough two years. Seven hundred thirty days running wild fending for himself and limping, but now his life was changed so drastically and he was struggling to keep up. I could understand that. I spent two years flighting hard. Now I had so much change in eight days I wasn’t sure how to cope either. 

We continue to size each other up. I’m not sure if the wildness in him will allow him to lead a calm life. I’m not sure if the wildness in me will allow me to lead a calm life. But here we are. A lot can change in eight days.