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Touring brings out the peculiarities in you. Anxiety. Worry. Fear. Stress. They gang up on you and heighten the little idiosyncrasies. I find myself freaking.

Over critical things like -- does the hotel have a refrigerator AND a microwave (essential for food, heating pads, and ice -- essential, given the hours we keep). Then, there's the "are all of the pieces of my costumes here, what about my chair on the plane, have I packed enough shampoo, inner tubes AND screws?"

I begin to notice my satisfaction at inconsequential details; my bag will be lighter on the way back (or to the next place) because I will have eaten some of the food and used the shampoo, conditioner, and face cream. I feel happy about throwing things away. Old face wipes finished? Yay. Now, onto the glory of the new packet -- yes, it's the same brand, but it is a new pack. It's hard to describe the joy derived from, gasp, a new tube of toothpaste, and, incidentally, the pleasure of tossing the old. Nothing like brushing your teeth at the beginning of a new day with new toothpaste, especially when that day has also had new conditioner! You just KNOW that the performance will be great.

Our schedules mean that we don't always get to explore the city for the local independent cafe or even the nearest Starbucks. I'm picky about my coffee; I won't drink the hotel stuff and good coffee isn't readily available in many of the places we visit. I bring my own: 1lb of coffee, plus filter, and/or French press (cafetiere) travel mug. I heat the water on the stove (if we have one), nuke it if not -- I won't use the room coffee machine. I bring (dark) chocolate-covered Venezuelan espresso beans in case the water is bad or I don't have time or .... Better safe than sorry.

All of this pales beside the work that goes into clothing -- how often will we work outside performance in costume, how sweaty -- can I wear it more than once? How many tops, pants, tights; are washing machines available? Do I have time to use them? Then, there's the body care. Oh yes, body care. Although I have my doctor's office on speed dial, it's often hard to find a 24 hour pharmacy. I pack remnants of every prescription I have had in the past year into my "crack pack;" I pack my current prescriptions. I make sure I will have access to ice; I pack my heating pads. And then there's the daily routines, performed even more thoroughly on performance days -- as if more thorough care and more rigorous stretching augur a good performance. Though, come to think of it, the practice of care does focus my mind on my body and that focus prepares me for performance -- I suppose it does work.

Gven all this, the hardest thing is remembering that I am more than the some of dancer schedule and practices. Somewhere, under all the preparation and stress, is the person I am back home.

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