Since I just figured out that I actually *do* have a suitemate home next door at the moment, I guess I won't be singing in the shower afterall. I'll save it for this weekend, or some other time when there can be massive amounts of people in my room to mock me and my shower obsession with Sondheim songs. And punk rock.
So, I don't remember what I wanted to post today, but that's mostly because I wanted to post this morning and then the internet gave out on me as I tried to load Blogger (even though I'd been working all morning beforehand) so I obviously couldn't post anything. I generally stick something into a word document and post it later, but I didn't this morning because I was slightly distracted by my Shakespeare scene (which went fabulously, much better than last time, thanks) and the brownie I was eating left over from the Leadership Scholars BBQ last night -
The brownie! That was it! It was a fantabulous amazing chocolate brownie, and I wanted to tell all of you about how grand it was (read: rub it in your faces that I was eating it and you weren't), and then the internet gave out.
I guess this only proves that if I let myself wander around aimlessly for long enough, I eventually find the goal, huh?
Possibly the best part of watching "The Last Samurai" over the weekend--besides Krista and I mocking Tom Cruise within an inch of his short height--was Michael tapping me on the shoulder to fill me in on other samurai tidbits (ritual suicide, fighting, etc) he learned while writing his last history paper.
I don't know what's up with my comments provider [AGAIN], but they're all a little delayed in showing up. For whatever reason, it's taking them a few days to pop up after being posted. Add it to the long list of the comment server that randomly eats things, posts twice on my page for no discernable reason, and probably knows how to cuss people out in binary. It's got attitude, that's for certain.
I pulled my first tour group today as a "real" Student Ambassador, which mostly wasn't scary as I was just trailing around with a real real SA who did most of the talking and totally all the direction picking. I've had some of my fears of the future [when the "real" gets pulled out of quotation marks] alleviated, though, as I knew some statistics the real dude couldn't remember, knew all the answers to the questions parents asked, and the crowd laughed at all my jokes. It's probably the last one that gives me the most faith for the future, but I'll take whatever I can.
For the second half of the day, I volunteered to be the theatre department guide from the "everybody everybody" admissions presentation to the seperate department-sponsered presentation. This meant I had to sit through a long, drawn out talk from the president and some admissions staff workers about statistics and the perfection of Truman and blah blah blah. Essential, it was something I wouldn't even want to listen to even if I was interested in Truman, let alone now that I'm already here and know what's going on. Unfortunately for my time schedule, I ended the presentation by discovering that there were no potential theatre majors in the audience and had the stigma of being in league with the physics department (who also had no interested juniors). I call it payback for missing the original training meeting, but I still wish that I'd been able to mock the entire thing more if I was essentially there for no good reason.
My thumb is only green when the markers get carried away
Talk about your unexpected surprises: I am now the mother a beautiful baby sunrose (or, Aptenia cordiflora, for those more science minded than I am these days). The science department sells their spare cuttings and pottings at the end of the semester, and Melissa and I decided (with two weeks left of school) to adopt some greenery. Major selling point of mine? From the slip: "keep sompletely dry in winter." Of course, it does have to last until winter for that to become a positive, but I have semi-faith in my abilities.
Not only did we not pick up whatever we were fetching during our "field trip" over to Baldwin from OP during stagecraft, but we also heard all manner of ghosts of Baldwin Hall stories, grabbed free Kool-Aid and cookies from groups on the quad, and left an hour and a half early.
Because I didn't have enough going on already (sarcassim, sarcassim, sarcassim), I volunteered to help with the mock car accident the La Plata police department is putting together to scare all the high schoolers before they go to prom. I don't know how they got my acting professor's phone number, but they asked Becky if she'd help direct and scrounge up students to get all gory and dead-like.
Why would I not want to volunteer for this? I mean, really.
So, things keep changing all the time (I don't know how organized we are, but it's getting there), but here's the facts currently concrete:
* I play the little sister (ah, typecasting) of a guy who goes out, gets drunk before a basketball game, and then hits a little girl on a bicycle on the way to the game.
* Because the group decided it would be the most heartwrenching that way, I die tragically, along with the guy's best friend and the little girl (we voted to let the girlfriend live along with the driver).
* I don't get to ride in the helicopter.
That's basically all that we've decided for certain. The helicopter is for the air-vac from the accident (we gave it to Alex [the best friend] because he wanted it more than I did, though we both turned into seven year olds while begging for it) and we've actually all been promised rides in the helicopter after the "show" is over, if we want. I'm not even certain I get to be in the car, anymore, since I think they still want a dummy for the person completely trapped and in need of the jaws of life (AKA, me). I'm hoping I can at least be the chest compressions person during the hospital since I lost out on the helicopter.
Yes, I realize how weird it sounds to be arguing for this. Do any of you realize how cool I think this all is? I'm sure I'll break down into tears after it's all over with, but for now I'm obsessing over all the stage blood I'll be covered it, where I'm positioned in the car, and trying to get the cooler medical parts. What do you expect from a theatre major?
Apparently, enough people are graduating to open up positions to work in Baldwin Auditorium next year. I'm a little intimidated to apply, since there's still a lot of stuff for me to learn before I'd feel completely comfortable doing, like, lighting or sound stuff (especially) on my own, but [according to the posted sign] that's not supposed to be an issue. I'm also a little scared about all the time it would eat up, but I can't get over what great experience it would provide, especially since I'm not working theatre this summer. I've decided if I do get the job (which would require me to find time to apply first, naturally), I'll drop marching band and gain back part of my Saturdays, if nothing else. Thoughts from the crowd?
My only beef with my acting scene is that I don't have a decent journal (AKA, one obsessed with boys) to truly base my character. Sure, I remember all those entries about "I hate him so much"/next day "he's so dreamy," but it's not the same as laughing over them in person.
Drood has been over for a week now (that long?), which is notable only because I don't flip into British as much as I used to. Granted, I still flip into the dialect without thinking about it--like some days when I go Southern for no apparent reason--but on not such a gigantic scale. I blame my Shakespeare scene for the little that I do, as, even though we were asked not to do the scenes in British, my brain automatically translates it over.
Unfortunately for me, I still DO have the songs from the show floating around in my skull...though they're winding out. I've been reorganizing my music files lately and listening to a little bit of everything (including the Drood soundtrack), so that keeps my inner jukebox from focusing on one theme.
Unfortunately more for everyone else, I'm still never around, as I'm now flitting to one-act rehearsal during the time I used to backstage talking in a British dialect and dancing to the show music. I've become a whole lot better at checking my phone messages, though, so I appreciate receiving them. And, just a bit of FYI-ish-ness...if you're popping by my room and find I'm not there, it is okay to leave me a message on my board instead of just telling me later. Dudes, I love message board messages. That was a hideous sentence.
Half the time I forget where I wrote down my next semester schedule, and, sure, I could just get it off banner web, but I'll post my schedule here to benefit all y'all AND myself.
BSAD 107 Main UG Computer Applications 1.00 W 10:30
BSAD 234 Main UG Legal Environment of Business 3.00 MWF 8:30
GEOG 111 Main UG The Geographic Perspective 3.00 TTh 9:00
HIST 298 Main UG American Institutional History 1.00 online
MUSI 148 Main UG Marching Band 1.00 MWF 3:30
THEA 371 Main UG History & Lit of Theatre I 3.00 TTh 3:00
THEA 395 Main UG Basic Costuming 3.00 TTh 10:30
THEA 399 Main UG Theatre Practice 1.00
Plus my Leadership class on Monday and Friday at 11:30. Anybody want to sell me their textbooks so I don't have to pay for the almost ten classes I'm taking next year? Sure, there's a few that don't require textbooks, but the rest....ew.
Okay, so I've been more than a little swamped lately. I doubt anyone's majorly interested in the list of things, so I won't spew it forth (at least, in list form). I'm sorry I've kinda deserted all y'all for basically a week, especially as I wasn't all that prolific the week before. For the past few weeks, I've felt like I was in some bizarre time warp where I was thrust back into the world of high school (except, one way harder and choosy than Sullivan) and had to deal with all sorts of time constraints, appointments, meetings, and general human interaction.
Obviously, this wasn't very pleasant (just like parts of high school). I am, however, hitting the minor lull [subconscience: "really?"] before finals start in two weeks, and hence my ability to post again........that, and my acting class got out after only half an hour because so many people are too sick to do their scenes.
(Why, yes, of course I'm trolling the network from music videos while drinking cherry coke out of my glass from "Drood" and listening to Flogging Molly (bless their Scottish souls) instead of actually updating like I promised only hours ago)
Hey, Caleb...want some episodes of Titus off the Truman network? I'll send you show titles.
The musical opens tonight (after the friggin' worst dress rehearsal I've ever had the honor [?] of helping with - which means we'll be awesome tonight out of sheer fright), and will basically suck up the rest of my week until sometime Sunday when I crash after disassembling the set during the post-Saturday night show time period.
I'm more than a little neurotically stressed at the moment.
Basically, this is just a "sorry if I don't post for awhile" post. Because I should really spend more time, like, memorizing my Shakespeare scene and stuff like that instead of talking to y'all, and I'll feel better about doing so if I've warned everyone in advance.
Also, though, this is a "sorry if I sound really mean and witchy with anything I write or say to y'all during the next week" note. It's the story of my life in high school: when I get busy, I get stressed. When I'm stressed, I start to get tense and neurotic. When I'm tense and neurotic, I don't take time to be nice to people and all friendly-like.
So, well, sorry in advance and sorry in hindsight to those I've already had the joy of being short with so far. I can't promise much improvement (sorry for that, too), but I'm working on it.
So, if this was the in-person, vocal version of this story, I'd really draw it out and add in faces and crap, but (short of finding a scanner, which I need to do anyway as I finally have pics of myself with short hair and I'm sure someone out there wants to see that) instead y'all get the slightly chopped down version of Monday's Saga.
I was sent to pick up some props for the musical, and (after finding directions to what I thought was the proper street off Mapquest or Yahoo or something) decided to just bike there instead of asking around for a car ride. Unfortunately, I didn't look at the fact that the trip (by car) was supposed to take three miles - not much in an automobile, a whole bunch on my legs.
Before getting lost.
And back on track before getting lost again.
Eventually, I did manage to find the path again, though by this point I was basically behind Wal-Mart (for those of you with an idea of how Kirksville is laid out). I made it to the road listed on the sheet and started looking for the antiques store that was supposed to be there.
Obviously, it wasn't. The map, in its infinate brillance, had sent me to "Dogwood Street" instead of "Dogwood Lane." Somewhat less than amused, I decided Wal-Mart owed me something new and pretty because I'd taken all that pointless time to end up three miles away from campus and was in no mood to return to the highway and all the scary fast cars.
So, I'm just pedaling along on a residental street, basically dead, when two nine-year-old-looking townies bike past. However, in the best part of the story (or, perhaps, just the universe deciding it had to make the trip up for me somehow), one of the townies yelled while going past [in the most wonderful lisp ever], "My fwiend wants your phwone numer!"
I'm sad to report that I had no fabulous comeback for the little helions, as my brain was approximately dead by that point. However, nearly everyone I know thinks it's hilarious that, what with my inner seven-year-old-ness, the nine-year-olds are after me.
It's amazing how worthwhile one little comment will make six miles of near-death experience seem okay.
I know I went downtown to try and pick up a pair of cheaper black pants to use for tech, but how could I resist the orange (like tang!) feather boa when The 'Ville, my favorite resale shop ever, was running a 50% off sale? I mean, that zebra print top that I'll never wear was a find enough as it was, without the orange (seriously - it's tang colored) feather boa now residing on my bed post).
Second. I watched "Cabaret" last night and was somewhat less than impressed. I mean, all the songs were still fabulous, but I just didn't care for the world of the musical outside of the club. Though "Tomorrow Belongs to Me" was just as powerful as it probably was back in the day.
I started off the day with "Alien" before I got about halfway and realized that I didn't really care for any of the characters, or that tiny issue of the aliens popping out of their stomachs. As such, I figured it was okay to turn it off.
"Monsoon Wedding" had some fabulous points, and I'd probably watch it again with people, but it didn't jump to "buy it buy it buy it" level. It flirted with it on several occassions (like I could with the boys using my tang-orange feather boa), but didn't quite reach.
And now I'm going to watch.........I don't know what yet.
"You're on your way to starting your own Blockbuster!"
Off a tip from Annie, who works in the media department of the library, I pulled out my list of movies I want to see and headed over to the library's second floor and the beautiful, wonderful media desk to rent more movies than should be humanly possible.
As the campus officially went on break sometime Friday evening, the library was shutting its doors for the weekend. While nothing could be checked out during this time, it also means nothing can be checked in, allowing for the shelf full of books hanging out in my room right now.
Granted, many people had gotten there before me, so I didn't get everything on my list. However, I do have a grand total of sixteen movies in my room. In alphabetically order:
* Alien - well, I've never seen it and I suppose I might as well
* All About Eve - THE movie about the backstage Hollywood world...or so I hear
* Cabaret - I've been meaning to watch this ever since I played the soundtrack approximately eight times in a row while working on my Hist and Lit paper last semester
* Casablanca - because, deep down inside, I hurt that I haven't seen this one yet
* Edward Scissorhands - well, I did owe Annie a favor for the tip...
* Fargo - per someone's recommendation (not that I remember who anymore)
* Monsoon Wedding - Michelle, who lived down the hall from me last year and exposed me to all sorts of fabulous movies, loved this one
* The Mystery of Edwin Drood - I didn't check the back first and thought it was a stage version of the musical (we have lots of those in the library), but apparently it's taken straight from the novel so I'll probably ignore it completely
* The Piano - Holly Hunter and Anna Paquin, yo!
* Pride and Prejudice - yup, the A&E or BBC or whatever six-VHS-long miniseries starring Colin Firth...all because I asked the media desk worker if there was anything she'd recommend "while I was at it"
* The Usual Suspects - because Mom and Caleb had seen it and wanted to talk about it in Wal-Mart once, but I was there, so I had to go look at keychains or something so they could discuss the ending
If they weren't due back until Monday evening, I'd certainly get through all 16 (I'm not adding up the hours). However, they have to be back by 1:00 p.m. on Monday, or I get charged the late fee: a buck a piece. As I've avoided Wal-Mart for weeks now to not decrease my checkbook further, I think I want to skip paying the University more money than I have to. But that's just me.
...as my classes have been fairly awesome this week, especially Linguistics and Spanish, the two I'd be most tempted to cut out on due to early hours and sheer boredom, respectfully. However, goody-two-shoe-ness worked in my favor this past week as I got out early most of the time in both (a HUGE achievement in Spanish, where we generally run a few minutes over), but also did some cool stuff in class.
[By "cool stuff," I mean non-regular activities.]
In Linguistics, not only did the phrase "den of linguistic iniquity" enter my usage, but she also read us a [drop-in-the-middle-shorted and edited] clip of David Sedaris's Easter story from Me Talk Pretty One Day, a book that apparently no one else in class had heard of, judging from the reaction of the class (compared to mine) which she pulled it out from her bag.
Spanish way-time rocked my socks off, as if clauses continued to benefit my world more than any grammatical function should. Not only did they get me out of class and into sunshine fifteen minutes early last week, they also provided reason for my professor to bring in a clip of "Fiddler on the Roof" so we could watch the "If I Were a Rich Man" section...and translate it into Spanish. And then have a singalong.
"Psycho Killer," such an oddly appropriate soundtrack choice
I feel about three steps from a stress-caused breakdown (kinda like last week, huh?), except that I have to survive until Saturday morning sometime before I'll have breathing room again. Which is exactly why I'm hanging out on Blogger and typing stuff up.
Here you go, Melissa. Something to read.
(Edit after reading all that: Geez, my sarcassim is really touchy when I'm stressed, isn't it?)
(Of course, then it's cold in the Linguistics room, but still...)
Perk of Spring: All the windows are open, so you can hear the clocktower bell and don't have to constantly glance at your watch to know what time it is. Looking studious and knowing how many minutes remain? Definite plus.
To quote somebody, "If you've done it, it ain't bragging"
I could do some cutesy story about how it took forever to get back to my room and check my mail yesterday, but it'd just be long and drawn out when all I really want to do is brag on myself and tell the world that I am, as of yesterday or whenever the mailed it or whatever, an official student ambassador for Truman State University, which means I get to give tours and answer questions and basically be a used car salesman-type person in that I must sell the school to high schoolers who's parents made them fill out the application or whatever and now I'm just slightly babbling because I wasn't sure it would happen after the "drunken sorority girls" fiasco (though, if I didn't make it, I was totally going to blame it on drunken sorority girls without explaining that it was just a quote or whatever)
and now I'm just babbling slightly because it still hasn't sunken in all the way and I'm hungry so I'm going to lunch.
I went from not doing much, theatre-wise, to being waytimeswamped (the lack of spaces indicates how much freetime I feel I have). Sure, I had classes going on (Stagecraft, where I become covered in paint on a much too regular basis and Acting II, the original reason why I was in OP everyday), but I wasn't doing anything non-academic related.
Then I was asked to help with props for the last mainstage show.
Megan kept copying scripts, music, dialect sheets for the show after Stagecraft and I'd tag along and collate pages to save her time.
My acting professor asked for volunteers to help with the La Plata police department's pre-prom "don't drink and drive" fake car accident presentation. Having missed out on the Sullivan disaster preporation thing my senior year, I totally volunteered.
One-act auditions and callbacks appeared, providing me with [first, lots of anxiety, and second,] an assistant stage managing gig.
The same person who's single-handedly made the banners announcing shows all year resigned himself to painting one last one, until I found out about it and offered my services. He gladly handed over the overhead projector, sheet of material, and paint.
The props crew finally met and found out we might also constitute the majority of the deck crew, also, as they needed more people to move scenery than props.
The props girls officially became scenery movers and also lost their Easter break to stay in Kirksville and run dress rehearsals.
SO, basically everyone probably wonders how I allowed myself to become so busy so fast. To put it simply, in life they didn't pop up in a convenient list like above, and I didn't notice until I found myself at musical rehersal Thursday night until after eleven p.m. It reminds me of high school, when I'd have early morning band practice in the pre-school hours and play practice post-school, so I wouldn't see my house from 7 a.m. to 5 p.m. that night.
I shouldn't feel nostalgic for my dorm room, but I have the past two days.
But, I only have about two weeks of this (and some parts will drop out before then: I plan on finishing the banner sometime this weekend), and I prefer feeling too busy to having free time [or so I tell myself]. If nothing else, whatever doesn't kill me one week, I can pull fun stories from the next.
So, it took a couple days to smooth out the details...
(This should've been posted earlier in the week, but my schedule went all *splah* on me around Wednesday/Tuesday and I've spent more time in OP this week than I want to think about.)
When Megan and I (Meredith was studying for a test) showed up at the high school on Tuesday, two police officers, a handful of students, and various office workers were standing around talking about "what needed to be done," except it was all in a "we're desperately trying not to laugh and failing miserably" way. We shrugged it off, moved on down to the drama classroom, and waited for class to begin.
What were all the students talking about when we arrived? Why, the kids who had stolen a vehicle from the parking lot and driven to Wal-Mart.
The THIRD GRADERS who stole a truck and drove to Wal-Mart.
Apparently (though I didn't find this part out until Linguistics class when my professor brought it up for reasons only she knows), when the two third graders were dropped off at school, they waited for their parents to drive off before sneaking over to the high school. They then proceeded to look through the cars in the parking lot before finding a truck with the keys still in the emission.
Surely rejoicing in their luck, one delinquent worked the pedals, the other handled the steering wheel, and they took off for Wal-Mart.
While on the road to the commercial center of our town, a semi driver noticed a vehicle driving erratically (Well, yeah! One's on the pedals and one's on the steering wheel!) and notified the police. By the time the two vehicles reached Wal-Mart, the cops were waiting.
Not only did they find two WAY underage drivers (I can only imagine that: "May I see your license an-" [notices second "driver"] "Where are your parents?!?"), they also discovered the spoils of the pre-keys searching: a pack of cigarettes, two lighters, and an air gun.
Dudes, if this doesn't spell short story material, I don't know what does. I'm getting prepared for creative writing class all over the place.