If there's one thing I'm bad at, it's managing a calendar. Fortunately, these days I get a lot of practice, and I've become quite good at the day to day scheduling. My main failing with calendars has persisted though: remembering holidays.
I remember my very first tour like it was yesterday. I rolled into Chicago full of hopes and dreams for four days - Friday through Monday. I got local advice from my industry mom. I posted ads early. I checked into a gorgeous hotel in the Gold Coast on July first ready to seduce an entire city.
What I didn't realize was that, Friday being July first meant that Monday was July fourth - American Independence Day. There are two types of people in the States. One type took off work early on Friday and didn't come back until Monday. They were gone the entirety of my trip. The other type spent all four days with family. They had schedules entirely blocked off. I ended up meeting up with a single person on my last day in town. Apropos to the Lifetime movie that my life is, he fucked me over the edge of the bed whilst I watched the fireworks through the window.
This year, thanks to the Minnesota Opera's schedule, I find myself out of town for Mother's day. Though, I suppose, what better way to treat yourself or the mother of your children than to book a babysitter as well as a once-in-a-lifetime night with a city-hopping transgender woman? Who knows, maybe some good child would treat their own mother. While you figure out how to sell that to your wife or to convince your husband that it's a good idea, I will try to find myself a way to creatively weasel out of spending Mother's day with my own mom. It's silly, really; the ability to spend holidays with family was one of the major reasons I changed careers.
Though, most people don't remember exactly when Mother's Day will be, right? What's perhaps silliest is that I didn't realize for quite some time that I had scheduled my tour over my own birthday, much less that I scheduled it as a travel day. Now, not only am I surreptitiously avoiding Mother's Day (sorry, mom! I have opera tickets in Minneapolis), I am also having to escape the rest of my family and friends hoping to celebrate with me. As someone who loves deeply and broadly, few things thrill me as much as an excuse to gather all of my favorite people together; instead, this year, I find myself twenty-five hundred miles away.
The road is always some sort of lonely which makes me ever more appreciative for the good company I do get to see in each city, but, still, I find it particularly difficult in these moments to not feel so isolated. I am ever appreciative for every moment I get to spend with Delilah Sansregret, and the silver lining of my lack of foresight is that I find myself galavanting with one of my dearest companions. Still, though, as friends and family contact me to wish me the best and to try to schedule time together, I find myself a little blue. So, if you think of it, I'd love a little happy birthday text or tweet today. If you're the giving type, I'll be home in a little over a week, and I'd love few things more than to walk into my home to some thoughtful gifts and a calendar full of time curled up with my favorite people back home.
I was born a week late, a short bit before midnight on May 3rd. My parents called my grandmother to tell her the good news, and she sweetly responded that it was the best birthday gift she'd ever received.
Maybe this year you can be mine.