On the Road Again...

I write this, dear readers, from an exit-row aisle seat in a stunningly unexceptional Airbus 320. We’re all packed in like sardines, fighting over peanuts we have to PAY FOR and trying to avoid breathing the air of our coughing and sneezing neighbors. So: it's the same as always. I am on my way to Seattle for a little giglet with the Symphony. It’s my first contract of 2011. Since there’s no movie on this 5-hour flight (for shame, US Airways!) and I’ve already read my New Yorker magazine, I am left with writing for my little blog as my most viable option for in-flight time-fillage. It’s about time I checked in with a post, anyway.

First of all, Hi! Happy New Year, and all that…it’s been a while, my friends. I spent my holidays having a 6-week long break from the road, and it was nice. SO NICE. I actually teared up yesterday at the new Pain Quotidien on Walnut Street, having brunch with my wonderful Mom and contemplating my impending departure today. This little run-out to Seattle is short…but when I am finished in Seattle, I head home for 3 days and then I’m flying back to Europe to sing a last-minute Aida contract that sprang up for consideration just before the holidays. The indefatigable roll has begun. For all intents and purposes, this new contract fills up all the empty spaces in my spring schedule and will mean that I won’t be back in Philadelphia for any length of time again until November. And, frankly, November isn’t looking good either. Realistically, I’ll be gone until next spring.

Good for me, right? This is what I wanted. To work in Europe! To be busy singing! To be fulfilled.

All true. ALL TRUE. I’m thrilled to be working, and thrilled to be able to count on being able to pay my mortgage for the next 12-14 months. I’m overjoyed that the big gamble I took spending my Fall (and all my money!) auditioning in Europe has flowered into something so quickly. I am truly fortunate, and I know it.

I find myself wishing, however, the world were just a little smaller. Wouldn’t it be just lovely if I could pop back and forth across the ocean like I hop on Amtrak and go to New York? Now that I’m reconnecting with my Philly friends, I cringe a little at the idea that I’m leaving AGAIN, after being away for months already. Last week, I had dinner with Melinda Albert, a friend of mine from high school. She lives in the suburbs of Philly and works in Delaware, so weekends are really the only time we can get together in the best of times. Over the holidays it proved impossible, with parties, houseguests, trips to New York and general family-related merriment confusing our schedules further. The last time I was home, in October, my visit was too short to get together and we passed like ships in the night, SMS-ing each other as we went. We finally got it together last week. Over appetizers and sangria, I told her about my gig in Germany, and that I would leave again in early February. Her face fell.

“Oh, so you’re not going to be here for a while, then?”

Sigh. No. I’m not.

All fall, I’ve been telling my friends with breathless optimism, “I’m gone a bunch this fall, but then in the New Year, I’ll be home for most of the spring! So we’ll have plenty of time to get together!”

I’ve been telling them that at the end of quick skype calls, when it’s 1:30 am my time and 7:30 pm their time and convenient to neither of us. I’ve been writing it at the end of e-mails that should have been five or six paragraphs long instead of the two I ended up writing. I’ve been saying it to myself when I think of all the quality time I’m missing with the people in my life whom I really love, and who love me.

Now, I say: “I’ve got this gig in Germany now, and I’ll be based there most of the spring, BUT I’ll be back for a little while in April!” They look at me skeptically these days. I think they are starting to catch on.

I’m sounding dramatic and over-wrought. Sorry. Having friends to love all over the world is a good thing, I know. Maybe it’s because I am getting older: I’m officially 34 now, which is as we all know, ANCIENT. (Please imagine a wry smile here.) Seriously, though--I’m the age my mother was when she had me. Clearly, I’m a little behind in the Williams clan life plan. More important than the pressure from my gene pool, though, is this prime directive I’m feeling to simplify my life, to deepen my relationships, and to NEST. Ironically, another prime directive of mine seems to involve continuing to travel all over the globe as often as possible and singing for whoever will sit down long enough. It’ll be interesting to see which directive wins…and for how long.

As I prepare to leave America again for destinations uncharted (and far too close to the chilly North Sea for my taste), I am going to start this new German adventure (and this new year) with a resolution I can’t afford not to keep: to hold my friends and loved ones as close to my heart as possible, even when shores divide us, and to remind them often how happy and grateful I am that they still remember me and make room for me when I come back to them.

I know that without this love to come back to, I would have nothing to sing about when I am away.