The Home Stretch...

What a week! Things are ramping up for opening night (day!) on Saturday. I am ridiculously proud of the cast and team that I have on this project. I mean, it's kind of awesome how it's all come together. Everyone's so kind and generous and happy to be involved. Me too.

I just wish I could get a little more sleep, but I have to say, when something this big is happening, it's a bit hard to turn off the ol' brain at night. I'm doing my best. :)

To take my mind off of it and to zone a little bit, I'll give you guys another guy story that wasn't put into the show.

I was in a messy messy relationship with someone who's name I absolutely can't mention, so I'll call him...ummm....Zach...Uh, yeah. Zach. The story isn't really about him anyway, which would irritate him greatly, but oh well...some of his story is actually in the show...

In any case, he had just broken up with me and I was depressed and working in the mall food court. For those of you who don't know, I worked for MANY years at an awesome fast food Chinese restaurant in the mall which is now closed. I was having a busy Saturday, thinking about all the crap that was going on in my life and ruminating about how I would probably always be alone, when some guy came up and ordered some food. He had an accent, which always perked my ears up...Many of you know my first boyfriend was German, I went to a few formals with a lovely Norwegian gentleman in high school and I ended up marrying an Australian...I guess it's sort of a "thing" for me. Hee Hee...

I couldn't tell where his accent was from, so I (newly single) was daydreaming about who or what he might be and where he might be from...and suddenly he was in front of me again. Maybe he needed more sweet and sour sauce? That must be what it was...I asked him if I could help him and he said that he'd like to take me out to dinner and a movie that night!

WHAT THE HELL? Seriously!?? That kind of stuff NEVER happens to me.

I have to say, I was still pretty depressed about my ex, but I said yes, with the condition that I could go home, shower and change and meet him back at the food court at 5. He agreed. Said he'd be waiting right by my restaurant and that he would see me later.

I can't even remember the rest of my shift, besides the fact that I told EVERYONE AT THE MALL who I knew, that I had a date that night...with a guy who had an ACCENT! At the end of my shift I raced home (well, I always raced home...I have that problem in cars...) told my mom and sister about it and changed and ran back up to the mall. He took me to dinner at Applebees (this was Duluth...there weren't too many options...plus, it was just a first date...) and we sat and talked.

Well, it turns out he was Italian. His job was peculiar: people bought planes through his company and he was paid to fly them back to Italy. He was on his way back with a plane when he was grounded in Duluth by weather and had to stop. He was from a family that was famous in Italy for their photography equipment. Think: the B&H of Italy. He was wealthy and cute, in a professorial kind of way. He was older than I was. I was, I think, 20 or 21 at the time and he was probably in his mid-30's. He was intrigued that I was in school to be an actress and I probably said too much about my recent breakup...I invited him to my improv show later that evening, but he said that he had to check in on something at the airport and couldn't make it...Then, as he was sitting there and talking to me about his job, he INVITED ME TO FLY BACK TO ITALY WITH HIM. He said that he was headed straight back with this plane and then had about a week in Italy before he had to turn around and come back to the U.S. He'd be glad to fly me over and have me as his guest and then return me to home in about a week.

Um, what?

I mean, WHAT?

You have to understand: I was 20 years old. I had no idea what to do. It sounded like the best adventure I could ever possibly have. I mean, ever! The saddest part was that I couldn't wait to rub it in the face of my ex. In any case, I told him I'd consider it and let him know...

After dinner, we went to see a terribly crappy movie (Spawn I think...), during which I did my best to keep from falling asleep. (I'm bad with that and movies...ask my husband...) I repeated my invite to the show, which he again declined, but we exchanged numbers and I promised him I would call him the next day to set up another dinner before he left town.

I drove downtown to the Holiday Center for my improv show on CLOUD NINE! It wasn't so much that I'd been invited to Italy, it was more that someone liked me even though the cute boy that I had thought was the best I could do (oh, 20 year old Kelly, come here, let me give you a reassuring hug...it gets better...you're worth it...hang in there...) had dumped me in the middle of quite an intimate moment and showed no signs of wanting me back...Oy.

I won't lie, I did rub it in the face of my ex at the show and consulted all my girls about whether or not they thought I should go to Italy. I'll admit, at this point, I could see merit in the argument that after he set the autopilot, there was the distinct possibility that he could rape me and shove me out over the Atlantic Ocean to plummet to my death, but what were the odds of that happening, really? (I think I was too sensible even at 20 for my own good...)

I went home, talked with my mom about it. She said, go. I said, really? She said, yes. I said, I'm going to obsess about it a little more. She said, o.k.

I called him the next morning and set up another dinner date that night. I spent a goodly portion of that day with my ex talking it out. Ugh. What a horrible experience. I wanted to patch it up at least a little bit because he and I (of course) had to work with each other on-stage and I wanted to make sure there were no hard feelings. I wanted to make sure there were no hard feelings? I was so delusional. He broke up with me during...well, anyway...that was sort of back in my whole people pleasing days where I didn't want to say a bad thing to anyone. I was a big fan of being "friends."

So, I left my ex's house and went to meet the Italian gentleman at Perkins this time, where he asked me again if I wanted to go to Italy with him.

I looked him straight in the eyes, smiled sweetly, and said, "I really appreciate the offer. I'd love to!"

Just kidding. The first sentence was the same, but then I said, "I don't think I can." I told him some sort of crap about not being able to miss school and starting rehearsals for a show (that was true, The Betrothed)...but what was going on in my head was, I don't know you. How could I take this chance?

I know I made the right decision, but sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I'd said yes. Maybe now I'd be married to a 50-something Italian guy with lots of little bambinos and a killer red sauce recipe.

Or maybe I'd be dead on the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean.

I guess we'll never know...which I don't mind...I don't regret my decision one bit.

He kept in touch with me for the next couple of years via postcards (in one he actually told me I looked like Helen Hunt...I don't see it, but thanks!) and the earliest incarnation of email, and I kept in touch with him as best as I could at 21 or so...

Everything happens for a reason, and I think he was to remind me that even if the cute, talented, funny guy didn't want me anymore, at least someone did.

On that note, I leave you, readers to mull over your pasts and think about anything you wonder about. Come check out the show this weekend. It's going to be a blast....