Keep reading. It gets interesting.

Good Sunday afternoon, dear reader. It's been too long. How've you been? You look terrific. Me? Oh, pretty good...

We're now two weeks into our rehearsal period, which in fact means that we're just about to hit the road. A little problem involving our schedulers apparently not knowing the size or shape of Labrador has resulted in a minor change of plans: instead of leaving St. John's at the end of next week, we'll be hopping on a plane on Wednesday to do a show for 30 kids on Thursday. Or something like that. I can never keep the schedule straight for more than a couple of days in advance. The long and the short of it is that we pretty much have to be stage-ready now, almost a week early, despite not having practiced with our sound equipment or rehearsed our French script. Which is okay. Because we're that awesome.

Anyway, i don't really want to talk about all that right now.

The past two weeks have been pretty standard; everyone getting to know each other (everyone's really nice and we're all getting along fabulously), rehearsals, shopping trips to acquire the needed wardrobe and props (yay to free clothes that i get to keep after the show's done!), as well as a brand-new keyboard.

Yes, a keyboard. See, depite the fact that i'm playing the same character in the same show as last year, a few small changes have been made to the script, so now i'm singing and playing a song. In front of people. Hmm. I really must get around to freaking out about that some time soon. No, no, i'm cool. I've played piano and sung in front of crowds before. Sort of. I can handle this. I'm almost sure i can handle this.

Anyway, i don't really want to talk about that either.

What i feel i should tell you about right now is how i came to find myself running half-naked through the halls of a large hotel in St. John's this past Thursday.

Now, the first thing you need to know is that the Battery Hotel, where we're staying, is on Signal Hill, which, if you've never been to St. John's, is, like, this really big hill. The second thing you need to know is that it's actually been quite sunny and warm most of the time we've been here. Warm weather, plus steep hill, plus being dressed more warmly than necessary, equals being kinda sweaty.

So, here i am, Thursday afternoon, the day's errands run and rehearsals done, having walked back up to the hotel, gotten into my room, and hung my room-key on the doorknob, to prevent me from leaving the room without it. These things done, my next step, being, as i mentioned, a little sweaty, was to take my shirt off, with the intention of replacing it with a fresh one. Before i proceeded to that step, however, i noticed my breakfast dishes from that morning were still in my room, so i decided to pop them out into the hall for collection by housekeeping.

Looking back, this may have been where things started to go wrong. I wasn't going far. Just going to reach out into the hall and set the breakfast-tray down. It was so simple. So innocent.

So i step out into the hall, set down the tray, turn back to the door.

Slam.

Pause.

...Oh, damn.

I look at the door. Look at my skinny, pale, shirtless chest. Look down at the doorknob, on the other side of which hangs the key to my salvation. Cast an accusing eye down at the breakfast dishes. They stare back, indifferent to my plight.

Look back at the door. Still closed. Try, by the sheer force of my will, to summon the key through the door and into my hand. No luck.

The thermostat in the hall was set to 15ºc. Despite this, i found i was starting to get sweaty again.

Look left. Look right. Nobody in the hall. Thank goodness for small favours. Can't remember the room number of my male castmate, so i can't go ask to borrow a shirt. No phones in sight, so can't call front desk and beg them to come let me in. Don't panic. Think, man.

Okay, there's a small gym up two staircases and down three hallways (this hotel has a really weird shape). There must be a phone there. If i can get there, i can call the front desk for help, or something.

And i'm off, sprinting as quietly as i can down endless corridors, peering around corners like an underdressed secret agent on the run from beshirted assassins. I get to the gym unseen, look around, find no phone. Look around again. Still no phone. There are, however, some clean towels stacked in one corner. So, draping one over my shoulders, i sigh and make for the lobby.

The biggest, most densely populated lobby in hotel history. Or, so it seems as i walk across to the front desk, trying with all my might to behave as though i'm not clutching a small towel to my chest. Relax. Just act casual. Casually, i ask the front-desk person if i might please have a spare key for room 206. Casually, i take it from her, casually thanking her before i casually walk back to my room, where i casually put on a shirt, and take a moment to laugh hysterically at myself. Casually.

Anyway, since then, it's been largely uneventful. I avoid eye contact with the front desk people whenever possible, although that's difficult at the moment as i'm writing this on a public-use computer in the lobby. That's the other bad news: i'm going to do my best, but updates on my current location and/or state of undress might be hard to come by in the coming weeks; you see, my poor old laptop appears to have bitten the proverbial Big One. It's been acting up for days, and today it decided it just wasn't going to start up at all. I fear i may be without it until i can get it sent away for repair.

But i don't really want to talk about that right now.