My roommate and I used to drink a lot of Diet Coke (or maybe it was Tab, back then) when we were in Architecture School together pulling all-nighters. She also smoked..... I'm sure you can see where this horrid little tale is going. But I think yours was worse, still.

My bare bewbs, however, are in several places.

I was really active in theater for a long time. It was my life. I was in community and semi-pro theater through high-school and college. I started pro- theater out of college and went onto grad school in theater. I worked in bigger and better regional theaters and built a good reputation.

I was called to work in many locations. I liked the traveling, but it was hard to form close friendships. A friend once said to me "Everytime I see you you're either about to leave, or just getting back from somewhere." He was right.

I desperately missed home when I went for longer gigs. I didn't like traveling for work so much as I thought I would.

I quit an excellent staff position on my way to the charge position the following season, in a relatively well known theater, to move back to Boston. Soon after, I got a phone call offering me the job I had always wanted- the "write-your-own-ticket-anywhere-in-the-field-after-this job" in the theater that I had coveted. They called me and asked me if I wanted to take the job before they advertised it. But I didn't want to move away from the people I loved.

The theater work in Boston, though, was ... ah-hem... less-than-inspiring. I started hating my work. I had to choose between staying in theater and not liking what the work was; staying in theater and moving from where I wanted to be; or leaving theater. I left the theater.

Sometimes I miss it, sometimes I don't.

I can't go to watch live theater anymore.