Summer Stock

Ok, people, I have crossed over into an alternate universe. Everyone plays show tunes, in their car, in their stereos, in their iPods. All the boys are gay, and fabulous dancers. There is a definite atmosphere of summer camp, and everyone is engaged in that I-must-tell-you-my-life-story dance that goes with meeting people for the first time. I've heard the phrase, "we're going to be best friends" at least six times.

I am doing summer stock. Now, don't get me wrong, I like these people, and I am fully prepared to enjoy myself. I think we're going to have a great time. But I also see people already giving themselves away and it is cracking me up. Some classic first sentences from these folk:

"Look at me, I'm already yelling in the house!"

"Charlie was the first gay man I was ever in love with."

"We brought all of Hannah's hair..." This last was said as a large, see-through box of hair pieces and wigs came out of the minivan. How does one end up with such an assortment of personally owned wigs??

The minivan contingent made me laugh anyway - girls arriving flanked by relatives and ensconced in massive vehicles filled with their things. We had the mother, grandmother, brother combo, also the mother/brother duo, and a very gruff father that did all the heavy lifting. These are people who brought with them boxes of canned green beans, George Foreman Grills, extra microwaves. It is a madhouse of people who have not all made the break from home.

To be fair, a lot of these folks are still in college. Enough said.

When I say all of the boys are gay, I mean they are all boys, and ALL gay.

Oh, and the house...

I am also living in a Scooby-Doo episode. The house is a rickety, spider-infested firetrap of an old house with a scary attic and creey basement to boot. It's a charming old house, and with some work, would be a gorgeous place to live, but it was bought run-down and years of only being lived in during the summer has left lots of dirty corners and vermin. The boys live in the equally run-down carriage house in back. We've got 11 girls in 8 bedrooms with 2 bathrooms. Hmmm.

I got in by myself at about 1:30 am the other night. No one had told me that someone was IN the house, and no one had told that someone that I might be coming in late, so I basically gave her the fright of her life. I was in the midst of a phone call: "Yeah, honey, I'm fine, it's just that the house is really old and creepy and there's no one here, and... YAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!!!!!!!....*click*.

It was fine. It was just I'd given one of my roommates a heart attack as I wandered around checking out the house. She thought I was an intruder and hid under the covers hoping desperately that I'd just go away.

It was quite an introduction.

In the meantime, don't let all this gossip fool you. I have my own insecurities that I'm sure show as much as the ones I'm noticing in my compatriots. But I'm trying to keep my mouth shut and watch everyone else.

Gotta go - more stories to listen to - more people to figure out.

Tales from the front will follow.