#like it feels wrong to translate something as the translated version will loose some flavour

[iwonderwh0]

Question for fic writers who write in english but whose first language isn't english

[justfollowmyhansel]

October 17th -- Lift Up Your Hands

I woke up in the hotel feeling very calm. Relaxed even for what felt like the first time in a long time. Perhaps it was being able to take an extended bath in the ridiculous sized tub. Or perhaps it was the idea that I had absolutely nothing that I had to do that day besides getting to the show. The more I thought about it, it was probably more that than anything else. Besides at this point, most of the pressure to actually do something or the nervousness of just what the show would be had passed. There was still excitement, of course, but I’d be able to enjoy myself in a different way than I had up until that point at tonight’s show having already seen the staging from the same relative angle.

My only bit of shopping that I had set aside for the day was that I had wanted to try out the 100 Yen store. Dollar stores in the US have long been a favourite of mine for the weird things you can find and the way it makes it relatively easy to try new things. Possibly not the best quality things, but enough to give an idea of whether or not it’s worth investing more money into later.

After eating the cereal I had ordered to my room the previous night and armed with the instructions given to me by the lady working the lobby the previous night, I set out.

I got as far as the train station before something went sideways. Of course, like a lot of times getting turned around, I didn’t realize that I had gotten turned around until I was very turned around.

I stopped into a grocery store thinking that it might have been the 100 Yen store I was seeking. It wasn’t, but it did allow for some interesting comparison shopping to be done – food seemed to cost a little less overall in Japan than in the US, but for some reason boxed hair dye was way more expensive. I wondered if it was because less people in Japan dyed their hair than in the US. I only bought a can of coffee there, having passed up most of the other things as either a little too expensive for what I wanted to buy at the time or, more often, too big for what I could carry, eat, or take back with me.

I set off again, passing a few shops, but mostly restaurants and office buildings. On the way up, I had passed every landmark specifically outlined on the map provided by the hotel – the laundromat, the boxed lunch shop, the convenience store – and yet, even though the relative location between places seemed greater in reality than it did on paper, I began to have the sneaking suspicion that I should have hit the 100 Yen store by now…. Unfortunately not knowing what it was called or what the building looked like, I couldn’t look it up on my Google Map.

As the area started to look less and less…. populated (the shops started being further apart and more suburban than urban, not that it wasn’t populated per se), I turned around and stopped into a pet shop I had passed earlier. I had thought it was funny that while John was going to go combine two things I love (dogs and coffee), I was also combining them. Just… in a slightly more conventional sense than I would have thought I’d do in Japan.

In the pet store, much like the grocery store, I photo’d things that were interesting to me, packaging I liked, and comparisons between the products I’d get in the US and the versions that I could get in Japan including, surprisingly, the exact type of dog food I feed my dog only with a slightly more kawaii packaging.

Before I left, I asked the attractive man behind the desk how to get back to the train station listed on the map from the hotel. I wasn’t sure if I was still going to try for the 100 Yen store or not, but either way, I needed to get back to some place I knew before I could get back to the hotel, reconfigure my stuff (AGAIN), and head to the show. And possibly get something to eat….

On my way back to the train station, I saw a sign plastered to the side of one of the buildings, very visibly reading “DVDS”, “BOOKS”, “MUSIC” in the same big red letters on yellow background you might see on an American going-out-of- business sign. I followed the big red arrow to the shop front, feeling more confident that I was closer to being on my way again than I had been moments before. Maybe this would finally be the place I’d be able to get some Yuri!!! on Ice toys for myself (and as gifts for Risa) or maybe this would be the place I could finally buy some Pokemon things for Kelly since she had given me some money in advance specifically for those.

I looked through the shelves and bins of boxed and loose toys; no Yuri!!!, no Pokemon, but I did find a Freddie Mercury action figure. At around $40, he was one of the cheaper action figures I’d ever seen for Freddie; my favourite being one that topped out between $200 and $400 and featured the multi-talented signer in one of his black and white harlequin outfits. The one I had just found featured the outfit he wore at Queen’s last show at Knebworth Stadium and had an additional face or two that could be swapped out for the one he currently had on. That detail alone seemed like something that would have made Freddie proud to have the figure bear his image, but it was really how well it was rendered that sold the toy for me. I carried him around with me as I checked out the rest of the store looking at the smaller selections of DVDs and CDs and the large library on the other side of the division. (A division that beeped loudly in both directions when I carried the spider wrapped Freddie Mercury over it’s magnetized lines.)

After briefly browsing the selection of manga books, I went up to the checkout desk and using Google Translate, asked the shop lady if the store had anything for Yuri!!! on Ice. She searched in her database and found nothing specifically for Yuri!!!, but went to the DVD section anyway to doublecheck. After the brief, fruitless search, she told me that any figures they might have would be with the open stocked/unboxed figures on the back wall. I went and looked again before bringing up my Freddie and checking out. Before I left, I double checked that I was still on the right path since I had made an unscheduled stop. Initially, I had thought the store was something akin to f.y.e. or Borders (before they closed), but after I got back and showed Miya the receipt, I learned that it was something closer to a Vintage Stock. So not totally wrong, but not the closest.

I would have been find getting around Osaka if one of two things had happened: 1. if my copy of Google Maps updated quicker/more accurately so that I actually knew where I was and what direction I was going at a given time or 2. had there been less streets laid on diagonally. Unfortunately, as both things were out of my control, I ended up getting lost again somehow going in the same wrong direction that I had headed in to accidentally find the pet store.

Recognizing the sight of a large computer retailer not unlike Staples, I chose to get some help again. A sales man came up to me fairly quickly and I asked about how to get to the train station. He pointed me in the direction that I had been heading – that I came from – that I was 95% certain was wrong. I thanked him, went back out to the lobby to buy a bottle of coffee and use the restroom, and left.

Still lost and with a not-firm idea of how to get unlost, I found myself heading in a completely different direction yet again after I had thought I was going the right way. Realizing that I had no fucking clue where I was and that my maps were getting me more lost, not less, I went up to a police officer and, again using Google Translate, asked how to get back to the train station. He gave very loud, but relatively easy to understand instructions that made me appreciate that the urge to speak your own language louder and a little slower to people who don’t understand you isn’t just an annoying American thing.

Not long after and having passed another McDonald’s, I found my way actually at the train station for the first time that day. I entered into the first open air market that I had been to all trip. Unlike the ones that food bloggers and tourists who take conventional tourism trips (and not ones that travel thousands of miles to a foreign country to see a show in their own language…), this one had no noticeable odor of fish. To this day, I’m not sure if that’s something that people actually experience or if it’s a persistent rumor.

Instead, this market seemed to focus more on other foods. There were a couple of little shops/stalls that sold sushi, complete with their own refrigerator units and scales to properly preserve and measure the food; there were more little bakeries, though less fancy than the ones at Shibuchka; there were vendors with fashion-adjacent clothes; there was a stall selling mostly cute toys like you’d expect to see Pokemon things there, but there weren’t; and then there were a couple of booths like the one I finally stopped at: one that sold dried goods like seaweed wrapped rice crackers, coffee flavoured candies, and other shelf stable bulk goods. As funny as it sounds, it was like being home and going to my favourite Asian stores around me.

I picked up a pack of flower shaped seaweed covered rice crackers and a pack of the coffee candies. Now that I was back on track, I wanted to have a little bit of a snack just in case I wasn’t able to have time to stop off and have lunch somewhere. As I was checking out, the vendor and her male associate (possibly husband, possibly someone she had hired) made small talk with me, asking where I was from, what it was like, why I had come to Japan, how I was liking it so far…. They both thought I was very brave for having travelled so far on my own. I was happy with the comment, but like so many other times that people said that to me, I wasn’t fully certain what made taking this trip so brave. Japan wasn’t a dangerous country and it wasn’t all that hard to get around, even if I did have to ask for help a lot, usually people were willing and able to help me get to my next station…. 

As I was leaving, I asked how to get to the 100 Yen store. Since I was already at the station, I figured why not. Neither the main vendor nor her associate knew, but a man who happened to speak English was standing nearby and he gave me some good directions of how to get to where I wanted to be. I thanked everyone involved for helping, for finding someone who knew exactly where I wanted to go, and for having a pleasant conversation with me and headed on my way. I had barely made it three feet away when I heard someone yell, “Hey, you!”

It was so soft, for a second I thought I had imagined the call. I turned and the man who had given me the directions was making his way over to me like he didn’t want to lose track of me. He offered to show me exactly where I was going since he was headed that way and I accepted. It wasn’t too far away from the market, but for the first time since I left the hotel, I was firmly certain of where I was. I thanked him as he went on his way and slowly made my way up the stairs of the open, yet segmented by floors, building.

There were a few things that I had thought were interesting on the landings -- backpacks, luggage, a couple of sweaters...., but nothing that I was quite willing to pay the still relatively high prices for.

Eventually, I found my way upstairs and in front of a store called Dasico. I took a flyer that upon closer inspection turned out to be a job application and went inside.

I've mentioned before on this blog how much I love dollar stores, I find them very easy to look around and usually good places to try out new things, butt the quality of stuff at a Dasico is much higher than that of a Dollar Tree or a Family General.

I started off in the makeup aisle, looking for the things I'd need to complete my Look on Thursday. Namely, I needed eyeliner, but I also found an eye shadow palette, a few nail appliques, some clips for styling my Hedwig wigs, and other things that would have easily cost eight to twelve times more at the beauty supply shop I used to work for like a kabuki brush.

My hands already full, I moved on to the other aisles, picking up another beauty thing, briefly observing a new girl being trained, finding a Hello Kitty sleep mask.... By the time I made it halfway through the store my hands were so full, I was in danger of dropping my new possessions. A pair of school girls offered me their shopping basket and gratefully, I accepted.

By the end of the trip, I had racked up more than $40 worth of assorted things from beauty to stationary to the odd piece of clothing and had successfully asked a couple of questions (and understood the responses) without the aid of my translator app. A very patient shop girl answered my pointing at things and going “nan des ka?” I happily paid for my items, in cash not card, and started to head back downstairs, but before I got too far, I remembered that I had forgotten one of the things on my list -- hair gel.

I walked back into the store and went up to one of the people, asking if they sold anything that would make my hair stick up complete with gesturing what I had wanted. Together, we found a firm hair wax that should have had enough hold to get the look I wanted; possibly with a couple of applications, but it was what I had to work with (honey.)

I went back downstairs and took a closer look at some of the stores I had passed up on my way to Dasico. One of the levels was akin to a Kohl’s in that they sold a lot of shoes, semi-discounted luggage, sleeping bags, kitchen appliances, and other things you’d expect to find in your average suburban soccer mom’s home. The next level is a bit of a blur to me, something that I either didn’t retain or am misremembering as I had thought Dasico was on the 4th floor, but I can only come up with a brief layout for three....

The ground floor was more like the first two levels of the mall at the Hikarie -- mildly-to-a-lot more pricey than the other levels, but with a more serious attitude to it. Like this was a place you could go to get a suit you’d have tailored somewhere nice, but not quite upperend enough that they’d customize a suit from scratch for you. I bought...less on that level.

I exited that building and, on the recommendation of one of the women on the middle level, went into a shop across the street that specialized in socks. My search for the sexy stockings I had seen on Saturday was proving futile, but I wasn’t quite ready to give up looking. I browsed through the ample selection rejecting potential socks more on price or length than because of their very attractive patterns and textures. Once again, I paid and was on my way to the next stop -- the hotel.

Following the printed map that Hotel Grand Fine had given me the previous night, I realized that I hadn’t come up the right way at all when I went looking for the train station. I wasn’t sure exactly what the issue was yet, only that there was one and that if I could remember these sights for the next few hours, I’d be better off than if I didn’t.

Putting in the hotel as my destination again, I used a combination of Google Maps and printed map to wander back to the hotel. I took more time than I had necessarily wanted to, but I arrived and with the show being at seven that evening, still had four hours to get there (and two, if I wanted to be early.) On my way back, I texted Miya asking for specific translations of a couple of phrases. I had decided that even though I wouldn’t likely get to meet either actor in person and that the drawings weren't finished, I still wanted to try. After all, given that most of my friends at this point had met John, the likely worst response I’d get would be no response. Which is exactly the same thing I’d have if I didn’t try at all.

I retrieved my key from the front desk, went upstairs, quickly changed from my Hedwig Japan t-shirt to my RENT one, and headed out again.

The path to the train station this time was different than it had been this morning -- a sooner turn onto a wide boulevard, a longer straight forward walk before a turn.... I thought I must have missed the train station entrance again since Google Maps can be very imprecise as to where the entrances are... I stopped into a convenience store and asked one of the ladies running it where the stop I was looking for was. She directed me to the woman who ran the shop and knew a little more English than she did and I was pointed in the same direction I had been going, only a few more blocks up.

I thanked them and found the entrance, quickly getting on the first train I needed to go to the show.

As it turned out, that would be one of the last stops I actually fully understood how to get from point A (the station) to point B (the next station.) The one I arrived at had far less clear signage. I ended up asking a janitor how to get to the platform my paperwork indicated I needed. She brought me up to the station master, who printed me another set of maps, which provided me with yet another set of directions on how to get where I was going. So far, four people, four sets of directions, and a very, very confused Hansel.

After what felt like a lifetime, probably mine, I was on the right path again. At least for a little while. At the next station, I was faced with the same problem I had had in Tokyo - two platforms that left from the same level, but across from each other, were called the same thing. I hopped on one, put the Osaka-jo Hall into my maps app, and waited to see what happened next. The next station listed was wrong, which I found out pretty immediately, but Google Maps had been wrong before on that front; usually not showing a “smaller” stop along the way of the one I actually needed to go to. I zoomed out to see what direction my blue indicator dot was going in relation to the map and sure enough, it was the exact wrong way. I set an alarm for the time the show was supposed to start labeled ‘You’ve Missed the Show’ because at this point, it felt like I wouldn’t get there until 8. At the next station, I hopped off and then hopped onto the correct train, going past my origin spot and then arriving at the next station.

The next station might have been the entirety of Utah, it was so big. I followed the signs as far as I could before stopping to ask someone where I should be going. He pointed me underground and said to follow the green signs for the JR Line since that’s the one I’d be taking to Osaka-jo and that it might be a lot of walking, but to keep following the signs. So I did and after passing two McDonald’s, a couple of convenience stores, and more people than I’d see in an average week, I finally found the stop I needed. I wondered, not for the first time, if there was another train that might have taken me closer to my next stop.

The train arrived and I felt like I had finally reached where I was supposed to be. The signage said something along the lines of Osaka-jo Square and after heading towards the signs that pointed in the direction of Osaka-jo Hall, I started hearing a person over a loud speaker directing members of the crowd there to see Hedwig to go a specific direction. I knew enough Japanese to be certain that this was about Hedwig and that it wasn’t a misunderstanding on my part so I followed the signs and the speakers to what appeared to be a large, possibly outdoors, stadium. Seeing the size of it, I was all the more glad that Miya had managed to upgrade my ticket from second balcony, Row M to the first floor.

I confidentially walked up the two or more flights of sturdy bleach-white stone and handed my ticket over to the man taking tickets. He looked at it and said “Standard ticket?” “Hai.” “You need to be...over there.” and pointed vaguely in the direction I had come from.

I thought perhaps I had gone too far around the building in my search for a small line and so passing back around the trailers and buses that had brought the equipment from Tokyo to Osaka, I went more towards the front of the arena and showed my ticket off again to a different man directing foot traffic. He told me that yes, I was at Osaka-jo and yes, there would be a version of Hedwig viewable here, but where I needed to be was NHK Osaka Hall, the public broadcaster, as that’s where the actual performance would be. In that moment, I remembered vaguely Miya forewarning me that there were two different places called Osaka Hall and that I needed to be careful which one I went to.

I asked how far I was from where I needed to be and by foot, I was still twenty minutes away. I looked at my phone for the time. I still had a little over an hour and a half to get there, but given my luck? And how quickly I’d been getting places? I hailed a taxi.

The taxi driver was almost as confused as everyone else had been along the way about which Osaka Hall I needed to be at, but after a few moments, we understood each other and were on our way. It was maybe a five minute drive from Osaka-jo Hall to NHK and cost close to $10, but the expense was worth the sudden certainty that I was actually back on track. Seeing a slew of other Hedheads there certainly confirmed this.

I got into the ever expanding line, my heart beating out of my chest like it hadn’t since the last time I saw Hedwig, but worse. What if I showed the drawings to the usher and she wanted me to come back stage? What would I even say? Would I actually be able to manage words or would it be like the time I briefly met Anthony Rapp and was only able to smile and nod along to what my mother said I had liked about his career? And why hadn’t they opened the doors? It was time, wasn’t it?

In my attempt to not fidget too hard while waiting in line, I took off my sweater and redrew the silver and gold Hedwig temporary tattoo that I had done for the last show in Tokyo. Last show in Tokyo, last show in Japan for 2017, what really was the difference? 

Not for the first time since arriving in Japan, I started to sort of regret not dressing up more. Not cosplaying the show like I had thought I was going to for two years before I actually had the chance to see it live. Of course, so many of the cosplayers here had much better costumes than the ones I had thus far been able to put together, but should I have tried harder? In the back of my mind, I remembered that part of the reason for not cosplaying was that I wanted to meet John as a version of myself and not a version of Hedwig. He’d met thousands of Hedwigs, and Yitzhaks, but tended to remember meeting people outside of their makeup more. And the other reason was that I wasn’t sure I’d want the attention it would attract being one of the taller people in the crowd to begin with and then wearing Hedwig’s tall red boots from Tear Me Down or her black ones from The Origin of Love and Angry Inch.

I took out my ticket for the fourth or fifth time that day, reconfirming that I did in fact still have it, that it did look like a real ticket and that someone hadn’t tried to pull the wool over Miya, or my, eyes.

And eventually, late compared to the Tokyo shows, the doors opened to allow the crowd to enter.

I picked up more flyers for HtTtGaP, placing them carefully with the other flyers handed out by the theater in my bag before heading to the bathroom to compose myself again.

I found my seat by myself, which considering my absolute failure at finding things earlier in the day seemed like an important enough victory. And then moments later, I found it again when it occurred to me that I had chosen a seat too far back and that I actually should be about five rows ahead of where I was presently seated.

I played around on my phone for a few minutes trying to decide whether or not I actually wanted to give over the drawings that I had worked on the last time two years ago and hadn’t ever finished. The ones that I had been planning on finishing, putting on a t-shirt or two, and wearing to the National Tour had John or one of the other Hedwigs I had loved from Broadway been performing. The ones that before printing on a spur of the moment, “oh look, I have these to go along with the other Hedwig drawing I’ve done,” had forgotten about almost completely in the excitement of actually Going and seeing John as Hedwig.

I pulled out the small spiral notebook that I had brought with me to the theatre and a purple pen. It took me two tries to get his name to be actually legible, but a note was written (in English, with his name in Japanese written along side his name in English.) Afterwards, I quickly translated and copied a note to Ataru basically saying that I thought her performance was incredible and that it was such a pleasure being able to see her these past few times in Japan. Later, when I showed the pictures I had taken of the notes to Miya, she said the version of ‘perform’ that I had used was more like the one an instructor might have used with Ataru than a regular fan, but that it should show between her note and John’s that I wasn’t a native speaker and simply meant to give a compliment to her.

I stood up and very nervously headed towards one of the ushers at the back of the venue. It looked to me more like my high school’s (very nice) performance auditorium than one that I would expect to see what’s basically a rock concert in. It honestly looked more like the sort of concert hall you’d see on PBS while watching a performance of a modern composer than one that you’d expect to see Blondie or The Ramones at.

I tried to explain what my intentions were with handing her the papers and the usher immediately goes ‘Ah! Giftu?’ which I assumed (and later confirmed) did mean gift. I showed her the notes and said that all of the drawings went to John and that Ataru’s note went to Ataru. I figured if John wanted to give her the Yitzhak one, that would be amazing, but I wanted him to see all three of them before they were given to the people actually playing the characters. She asked for my name and I pointed to where I had signed on John’s note ‘H. Smyth.’ It hadn’t occurred to me when I picked the name how semi-awkward it might be to actually introduce myself to John as ‘Hansel’. So for now.... I was ‘H. Smyth’, the name I thought I might go back one of these days and publish under.

I went back to my seat and was somehow more nervous than before I had given over the notes and the drawings. What if John wanted to have me thrown out for some reason? Or what if I had broken some unspoken rule by mentioning in my note that I had thought it was kind of funny that I had drawn these given that Hedwig’s opening costume had a gold Hello Kitty silhouette on her ass.

The show was later starting than any of the other ones thus far had been, going past the unedited, album version of Light My Fire and completely through one or two songs after it. I worried that maybe I had had something to do with delaying the show. Ridiculous, of course, but sometimes one likes to overestimate one’s importance to the world. A practice that is ironically very Hedwig in it’s execution....

The show, of course, still happened and was performed beautifully. Like I’d remark to Miya and Risa the next day, not once in five performances did John get the words to Wig in a Box correct and on most shows flubbed one or two of the other songs as well, but I didn’t care. The audience didn’t care. All that mattered was the energy in the room (which was amazing) and that the performers seemed to be enjoying themselves as much as the audience. My seat allowed me to see Ataru’s final outfit even closer than I had been able to on Saturday night because of where the venue doors were in relation. And that night provided more opportunities for improvs than on any of the other shows; one that basically involved John forgetting his line and Ataru improving spitting water in his face. (His reaction was hilarious and got them back exactly where they needed to be in terms of the script.)

Once again, Hedwig said ‘then love the front of me’ to Tommy with a delivery that would have made you think it was always there. And at the end of the show, they did the End of Love again, but this time slower since John’s voice was a little sore from performing so much lately. Slightly slowed down, it was still a wonderful song. And as John had recently announced it as a podcast, possibly one of the few times it would be performed live. After the song, John gave his final remarks, as usual, thanked the band and Ataru, his other half for these performances, asked if she had anything specifically that she wanted to say and then went into fully thanking everyone involved with the production including the director, the translator for the show, the translators for him in and around Japan, the artists involved with painting Hedwig’s capes, the animators for the new Origin of Love sequence, the costumers, and finally the people who helped him with his tuck. I was one of the few people who had laughed when John said that in English and one of the many who laughed when Ataru translated it moments later. It was a funny thing to have thanked someone for and made funnier by the just adorable way he said it. Cait and I agreed later when I told her about that moment that it was one of the things that made him so charming and reminded us both of David Bowie.

That alone was the moment I was still laughing about, standing outside the theatre part of the venue, and texting when I met a musician from Japan. He asked a little about my trip, how I had enjoyed it so far, why I had come over. I told him I was from Kansas City and he mentioned having been there with his band about a year ago. He asked if I had stopped off in his hometown and I said no, that because the bus ride was so long to get from Tokyo, I hadn’t had a chance to, but possibly the next time I came to Japan I would. And I truly meant it because despite having gotten significantly lost, I had enjoyed Japan immensely and even then wanted to visit again sometime when I had the time to be a little more prepared in my planning, possibly having learned more Japanese and definitely having pre-walked the majority of the streets I’d be travelling on. He and I chatted for a bit before walking out of the venue with his disinterested girlfriend hurrying him along.

The lobby that had been home to a few food court type options, had completely closed down. The only indicator that something had happened there that night being the few dozen people still milling about and the lights still being on in the main areas.

I walked out onto the street, headed in the direction of the train station to Hotel Grand Fine, and as I walked by NHK, blew a quick kiss up to the upper levels before seeking out food places in Google Maps.

I settled quickly on a soba noodles place. Miya had mentioned having them with her family a few days or weeks before I had come over and I couldn’t remember based on the name whether or not I’d ever had them. It was taking forever to find the restaurant that was allegedly so close to where I needed to be that I stopped into a 7/11, not having given up, but wanting to have at least something since I was quickly remembering that I hadn’t eaten anything all day. I picked out a few snacks and another cold coffee drink before buying two pork skewers at the front of the shop. The consistency in American convenience stores was something I found equally consistent here with the skewers tasting exactly like the one I had had the previous day before getting on the bus to Osaka, but without the other chicken thing that I had accidentally ordered first.

Newly fed, I headed out towards where the noodle place should have been again. And again, finding something else to eat instead.

The restaurant had a visual menu for their food as a window cling near the entrance to the shop. I took a photo of what I wanted and headed inside. The man behind the bar indicated that I could sit anywhere and I chose a spot towards the back, texting and going over the next day’s plans both as I waited for my food and as I ate.

I had finished maybe half of the food when they started to close up. I asked for a box and after another eternity spent trying to translate, gesture, pantomime, and otherwise indicate that I wanted to take the remainder of the food with me, was given one. I paid, left, and headed back to the hotel where I ordered another set of fries and cereal as I started to repack my bag to get ready to go. Afterwards, I took a quick shower and bath, having to cut down my enjoyment of the tub by at least half so that I would be semi-well rested for the return trip to Tokyo.

I set my alarm and went to sleep, both very happy with my trip so far and a little melancholy that this would be the last time this year that I’d see Hedwig performed live.bs