AFTER I finish school.
Fat lot of good it'll do me then.
AFTER I finish school.
Fat lot of good it'll do me then.
IT WAS ACCEPTED INTO EQUINOX!!!!!
If anybody is in town during the UArts Equinox festival (I'm not at all sure when it is yet), you have to come see it. Twice. Because what they're doing this year is having two directors and two casts for each play, so that there will be two totally different interpretations. Yippeee!
I feel so...accepted.
But here's a disclaimer, a few months in advance: it is in no way autobiographical, despite some similarities you may see between the main character and myself. Like her love for Cherry Coke and her uncanny knowledge of Fresh Prince lyrics. (Don't ask.)
Despite having the same setting as my musical Give it Up (a dorm lounge), this play (called Drowning Slowly) could not possibly be more different. The whole experience is really very frightening for me. I mean, I've always been extrememly shy about people reading things that I've written (I guess, in a way, that this site is an exercise in exposing my writing to the world and being comfortable with it). At least with my musical, it was goofy and stupid and a lot of it was bad on purpose, because it was a musical that made fun of musicals.
But this play, despite having some lighter moments, is serious. It deals with some serious shit. I'm afraid of people seeing it, because I don't know what they'll think of me. I'm worried that people will walk away from it thinking, "So THAT'S what's going on in her head. Wow. She's fucked up." Or maybe they'll walk away thinking, "Holy crap, what was she THINKING?! That was terrible!"
But anyway, I just read over the script for the first time since I finished it (distance is always good), expecting to see tons of things to revise. I found two spots to add a sentence. And when I finished, I thought to myself, "Damn, I'm good."
At least, I think so.
So one day, we get a call from the parents of this guy who also went to this school. They were throwing a surprise birthday party for him, and we were the only people from the performing arts school who he ever talked about. (Well, probably not me...I wasn't as outgoing...or insane...as the others in our little group.) SO ANYWAY, we were all invited to this party, because we were "such good friends" with this guy.
We all found this incredibly hilarious.
But we went to the party, bearing the most random gifts you could ever imagine (including a ballerina poster and a balloon of Bert from Sesame Street), and OH LORD did he look uncomfortable when we showed up. And from then on, we all laughed about how we were "best friends".
He really was a nice guy, though.
Actually, it's not exactly true that I don't want to take the class. I want very much to take the class (Intro to Mythology) but I just don't want to take it from 7:00-8:30pm on Mondays and Thursdays.
Now, I hate going in to a class purely to have the teacher sign the drop slip as it is. I actually feel guilty. But when I actually DO want to take the class, it's even worse. I'm still kind of struggling with it in my mind.
If anybody wants to buy me any books about mythology, it would make me feel a lot better. Come to think of it, I actually prefer reading about things on my own to taking a class anyway.
Oh, and my Wagner class is shaping up to SUCK. There are, like, four people registered for it which means it will probably be cancelled, and then I'll have to add another class anyway (in which case I'd probably end up going back to the Mythology class, I guess), and the teacher just seems...boring. It's one thing to be falling asleep in a big class, but when you're one of four people, it's hard to be inconspicuous. (Did I spell that right?)
Well, we shall see. All that really matters is that this is my last semester.
Remember when you were 10 years old and thinking, "I can't wait until I never have to go to school again!"? Let me tell you, when you're finally almost there...it's just unreal.
This has been a horribly dull entry. I'm afraid I'm going through a bit of a dry spell. Give me a few days to get back in the swing.
Also yesterday it snowed. I love snow, especially when I don't have to drive around in it.
As we were driving out to pick up the dress, there were a few scattered flakes here and there. As soon as we got off the highway, however, it started coming down pretty heavily - tiny little snowflakes, falling pretty gently, but there were a lot of them.
"It's an omen! It's an omen!" I kept on squealing.
You see, there's this thing about weddings in my family: there tends to be extreme weather. When my parents got married, it was so hot that the power went out at the reception. My sister got married on May 30, 1999, and it was in the high 90's. My cousin got married last June, in Maine, and it was around 100 degrees.
We figure this either means that the day of my wedding (December 27th) be freakishly warm (as it was this year) or really, really cold.
I'm hoping for snow. What could be better for a winter wedding than snow? Of course since the wedding is in a town surrounded by hills, I'm hoping for it to have snowed the day before so that the roads can be nice and plowed, and then I want it to snow gently on my wedding day. Kind of how it snowed yesterday, the day I picked up my dress.
It's an omen. AN OMEN, I SAY!!!
Just to prove that I'm back for good, I am going to follow my own rules. It's 3am and I'm online, so I must quote Matchbox 20: "The rain's gonna wash away, I believe this."
My only excuse for not having written is that, after seeing The Fellowship of the Ring, I went out and borrowed a copy of The Hobbit and then proceeded to buy the Lord of the Rings trilogy, which I have been reading at an alarming pace. The first night that I sat down with it, I read 120 pages. I'm just ADORING it.
Okay, so I'm a nerd! I admit it! But what does it matter anyway? It's not like I'm in high school anymore.
I must say though...the other day when my Mom was driving me back down to Philly, there was this huge flock of black birds flying around over the highway, and I was like, "AAAAAAAAHHH!!! I can't let them see me! They know where I am!" (although I didn't say it out loud) ... and then I was like, "Wait, a minute, I'm not Frodo." But I still felt a little freaked out. It's just really engaging. (That was more a result of the movie than the books, anyway.)
Oh and by the way, anyone who thinks that there are too many interruptions to the story has clearly never read any 19th century novels. Les Misérables contains, among other things, an essay about sewers. Sewers. How it is a waste of fertilizer not to direct the flow of the sewers into the farmlands. I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP.
Well anyway. Now that I sound like a complete and utter DORKASAURUS, I will tell you about yesterday afternoon. I was on my way to The Coffee Beanery to get a white chocolate mocha (because...well...I deserved it!) when I ran into Lou (remember Lou? My best non-fiancé friend). We went and got coffee together, then went to Borders (where I wanted sooooo badly to buy a beautiful leather-bound edition of The Hobbit...but I didn't). This is a conversation we had:
LOU: Ooh! Cute guy!
ME: I thought you said you have a boyfriend.
LOU: Yeah, but, we're not really boyfriends, we're just...
ME & LOU TOGETHER: Seeing each other.
LOU: Yeah. I kind of want to, you know, sow my wild oats, and have a real person on the side.
ME: (laughs hysterically)
I don't even know where to begin on that one.
So I've been reading The Lord of the Rings because the movie was cool and I love reading. I am soooo into it. Yes! I know! I'm a nerd. But I'm a pretty nerd.
So remember all of those problems I was having with my florist? Well she called and said that she's going to be in California for the entire month of December. So she can't do my wedding. Oh well! I found another florist who I simply adore and who actually charges slightly less. Woohoo! And this one actually thinks that my ideas are good!
So I'm stuck here because of a photographer meeting that will be taking place sometime this week. It's a long story. But the moral of the story is, things are getting done and I am happy.
I promise I will start writing more. I promise!
It's a contact sport, too. The other day in Penn Station, I got caught behind Slowby McSlowass and his wife Sloweena (it was rush hour), and I took an elbow to the chest trying to get around them. It didn't slow me down, though. Because a little thing like a blow to the ribcage doesn't stop an Olympic Champion!
That's all for now. See y'all later!