"So, you were in that quesdo video, right?"

As I sit here in the CMC waiting for a meeting for the theatre company in which I am doing tech for, and as I patiently wait for so many good things to come, I reflect on many things.

First off, My Birthday.

20 years now, I have been alive.  I received countless birthday wishes; but it doesn't help that facebook now reminds people of your birthday; thus you don't know how many people actually remembered, and how many people actually didn't.

A few of my favourite birthday greetings:

1.  A text from Scotty saying:  "Happy Birthday!  Let's celebrate twenty years of nerdom - from one nerd to another."  Okay, so just because I dress up for Harry Potter events, and collect Harry Potter memorabilia, and have a shrine of sorts in my room, that does not mean that I am a nerd.  Do I own 52,343,122 tiny figurines of Micky Mouse?  No.  You have an obsession; I just have an interest and a hobby.

2.  A voicemail from Brett, singing Happy Birthday - poorly.  I had seen him earlier, and he had failed to say it (although everyone around him was saying it), so to compensate, he sang me a voice message.  It made me laugh.  A lot.  Especially when he said, "I think you're twenty right."

3.  A text from TJ Hanson:  "Happy birthday Rachel!!! If you want me to kill anyone for you, its on the house today!"  In which I stated, why yes, there is someone I want you to kill, and his name is Chris.  In which he said, "So be it.  Forsooth, I must slay my fellow syndicate comrade.  With these hands Rachel...I will end him!"  This is, by far, the most meaningful present I got my whole birthday.

4.  A text from Abigail saying:  Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, Kittens are Cuddly, And So Are You!  Complete with pixilated pictures of roses and violets.

5.  And lastly, after I told Chris to be sure to turn in some homework, and I got the following text:  "Just turned them in.  Happy birthday"  It was so heartfelt, I nearly cried.

Thanks to everyone who made my day MY DAY.  Because that is what it is.  Some people are born great; others have greatness thrust upon them.  I am both.

Dance - is dismal.  There is really no other way to describe it.  You remember that jazz combination I was talking about, where I was the one off, and what not?  Well, we have class, and the teacher gives me a 'Congratulations' certificate for "Keeping It Moving" and "Good Energy."  Basically to say, "Sorry that you made a 70, but don't give up!"  Chris got one that said, "Keep Improving Baby," or something to that effect.  He made an 86, which is depressing because he looks horrid dancing.  Which makes me think, I must really look like a raptor.  We have the Charleston tomorrow and none of us is looking forward to it.

Chris and Volpi are currently trying to find my blog; they will fail, fail, fail, and this is mainly because I do NOT want them to read it; because if they ever did, I would die.  Perhaps I should edit that part about how I dream about them in a shower of queso.

Now, onto the important stuff, that I have been wanting to discuss.

You know, how I was in the dumps for having to part with my good friend Anne?  Well, so much for that, because we became quickly reacquainted.  I got a message in my inbox on my birthday, with a message asking me if I would like to do some readings from her diary for a city-sanctioned Peace Festival in Asheville. Of course:

Asheville + Peace Festival = Hippies.

But, I did it.  I'll right a more in depth blog on the matter when Abigail posts her pictures that I can narrate to, but it was an experience, no doubt.  But, more on that later.

For now, I have to continue to sit in the CMC while we watch this video of this girl who is apparently everyone's enemy.  She is sort of silly and full of her self; but in a way, they all are too.  But then again, they weren't naked in a video advertising queso, so take it for what it's worth.

-Me

French and English

Alas, more blogging!  I remember why I stopped blogging now; I couldn't stop and I got nothing of importance done.  I.e. French.  So, so, so, much French!

Pee.Ess.  I know you used a translator, Amanda, you minx.  You'll pay for that.  If you had actually went to public school, you would know that translators equal an F.

Love you...

Right now (well not right now), I am doing a presentation on French theatre.  It should be interesting.  Boring, perhaps for the rest of the class.  And impossible to understand. You see, I am excellent when it comes to writing and reading French.  Speaking, on the other hand.  Not so much.

I mean, at this point I'm in French 4 so I should be able to say a few things properly, but at this point, I can only pronounce subjects, a few verbs and a few adverbs correctly.  C'est mal.  :(

But, I'm going to finally break down and buy a French-English dictionary, because I'm tired of having to do all my work on the internet, instead of at the comfort of my own home and with my cats.

I also have to do something for dialects, where I go to someone I never met, and speak in a British accent.  The first time I did it, it went well; of course, that was the Southern Accent.  And that's loads easier, because it comes more naturally.  The British accent, on the other hand, will come somewhat easy because of the LOADS of Harry Potter films in my life, but not that easy.  She keeps stressing the importance of speaking with the front of mouth; it gets me a little confused.

Regarding Anne Frank:
This show has gotten a massive amount of praise.  People have cried, people have laughed, people have been completely stoic.  I've heard that it's the best show yet, the best ever seen, and more 'bests.'  The show has had many complements, I have had many complements, and my fellow cast mates have had many as well.

I'm glad it was such a hit.  I can truly say I adored this show, and I want to thank everyone who was a part of it.  Especially the people who helped me.  :P

I'll probably write more about this at a later date, but at the current time, I am starving and it is time for some vittles.

Dear Anne,

I'm going to start with the beginning of this story. It's a very lengthy story, and if it's boring or not is up to the reader. But it probably is.

It is a story that begins in in the summer of 2009, the first year of my internship and the first year of the SMCPA. Somewhere during this time, Scotty told us of his plans in doing 'The Diary of Anne Frank.'

I can remember my instant reaction to this news: "I want to be Anne Frank." Visions of me up on the stage, portraying the lively Jewish girl who's story is often the center of the Holocaust occupied my thoughts. Later that week, I ran/drove to the bookstore and picked up the most well known copy of her diary, "Diary of a Young Girl," or the version that is known as being lovingly written edited by her father. I can still remember Chris and I getting drinks, and him shuffling through my new books, looking at that one in particular, stating, "you want to be Anne Frank, don't you?"

I told only my closest friends of this dream. I didn't get a whole lot of encouragement; I could tell they didn't really believe in me. I suppose their logic was this:

Captain of the Nerd Dazzlers

Does not equal the Jewish face of the Holocaust who has actually done something worthwhile with her life.

That, and this could not possibly equal anything that resembled attractive acting. I suppose they *rationally* thought, "well, if Anne Frank is supposed to look like a raptor on stage, then Rachel would be perfect."
On reflection, I really can't say for certain if I didn't end up looking like a raptor.

Flash forward to July 2010. Interning yet again, I silently took note of the calender inscribed with 'DoAF Auditions'. Chris and I were personally in charge of copying the audition packets. Every time a page came out, I read it eagerly. Chris, who, at this point, had heard of my dream 500 times, (and had yet to give me true encouragement but didn't hesitate to say "why are you so boring,") hears them yet again. I stealthily took one of the packets and rushed it to my car, eager to read the scenes and work on them. A little while later, I sprinted/drove to the library and sat, packet in hand, working each of Anne's lines and finding her intentions behind them.

Gradually, audition day loomed forward. I had practiced in front of several people, all of whom had good words to say, although I will say they were all immensely partial. Either that or they didn't want to kill my spirit and tell me that I looked like a raptor. *shrug*

I had read the diary. I dressed as much like Anne as I could, without losing some sense of modernism. I brought my packet and I was ready.

...I also spent the whole hour before auditions crying over this cat that was squalling at the humane society, and they kept telling me that they were going to have to put her down if she didn't get a home, a.k.a. the ol' guilt adopt.

:( :( I hope, to this day, that Cleopatra survived.

Anyhoo, I had prayed many things in preparation for this day:
1. I would do my best at the auditions; well enough to earn the role
2. I would have the courage and knowledge on how to do it
3. God would obtain the glory if I was to do it well
4. And most of all, if I was to be cast or not, I prayed that God's will be done.

I showed up at auditions and did my pieces. Scotty called me up for every Anne Frank piece, which made me think I at least had a shot. I had heard many rumors that the role was already promised; but I didn't care. I tried my best to control my body, to be subtle and focused. After auditions, I thanked God, for I felt as if I did my best and I knew that He was with me. I spent the next few days in peace. My mother, bless her, told me she knew that I hadn't got the role. She didn't say that out of harshness, but in her eternal theme of 'reality.'

But I kept my faith and I couldn't help but have a good feeling.

The day came, and the cast list was posted. Amanda called me into her room, and I literally exploded with delight. I thanked God, I thanked Jesus and then Scotty. In that order. I had never been more happy. I proudly went to Garret and said, "Garret, I need my script." I stroked said script, I told Scott my great news, and began to pour over all the stage directions.

After this, I began checking out additional books. A lot of books. I found the expanded version of Anne's diary with "30% more material," and not lovingly edited by her father, which I read as well. I checked out photo books, Miep's book, Anne's friend Hannah's book, research books, biographies, books with the stories Anne wrote about fairies and dwarves; which is just a step away from magical wizards, so don't tell me we're not kindred spirits. Most importantly, "The Critical Edition" - which is essentially the diary, complete with spelling mistakes and everything else.

The more I read, the more I began to see Anne Frank in my mind. I slowly began to relate to her; I found similarities between the two of us, similarities we had before I even knew her. Like Anne, I feel closest to God when I am enveloped in nature. Hence why I frolic through the woods.

She is an independent and free person like I, and even I will admit that I do believe that people are really good at heart (except Scotty.) After a while, I began to know Anne. I knew what she would do and what she wouldn't do in her every day life. She had become my constant friend and kindred spirit. One who understands me.

Not to mention she faced a lot of the same battles as I did. And that was the battle of not being taken seriously. (Shall I redirect you to the above picture?)

As I became deeply involved in rehearsals, I found myself understanding her even more on stage. I knew what she would do and how she would feel. As for executing this on stage, that was a different story. I thank everyone for the patience they had as I rowed boats, ski jumped and seduced Peter with my sexy, telephone voice. It was definitely a challenge. I especially thank Scotty who walked me through, step by step, on how to do it. I had the most notes of anyone, but I am thankful for this, because not only had it kept my humble, but it has also helped me do my best.

Before I knew it performance time was here. Everything was set and ready, and all I had to do was show up. Regarding the performances, I prayed only that I would do my best, and that somehow my performance would lead people closer to God and that it would allow them to pick up Anne's diary or Wikipedia the Holocaust and discover some things. I know, it sounds cheesy. But I also prayed and I still hope that my performance satisfied Scotty in the end. I never did overcome the ski jumping thing, I don't know if I ever did become spunky enough, and I know some nights were almost over-energized, while on Sunday I was a drag.

I know that he was rather pleased with the show, and I hope I helped in that happiness. Being "a swan" in rehearsal and being one at a performance is two different things, and I hope, beyond hope, this was achieved.

I have received many complements. From my fellow actors, peers, my mother and random audience members. But, the way I look at it is, most people aren't all that hard to please. Besides if any part of my performances were good, it was God and not me, I assure.

Reflecting on everything, I can say that I do feel as if Anne and I have went through something similar. Where as she developed into a writer, I feel as if I have developed somewhat into a true actress.

Now that it is over, I can say that this is probably the most depressed I have ever been after a show. I am sad that it's over; but I'm mostly sad because I feel as if I have lost my best friend. For two months now, Anne has been my constant companion. I have done little without at least considering her. If it were any other character, I know I would not feel this way. After all, very few characters are non-fictitious characters, and rarely are they so relatable. I suppose, in a way, Anne will always hold a special place in my heart. I doubt I will ever play a more meaningful role in my life, as that of Anne Frank. And really, I don't want her to ever leave. I like her; I like her company. And who says that she has to leave?

I'm rarely this sentimental, and my blogs usually consist of things like raptors and the dumb things I do such as dropping my phone in the toilet (my current epidemic), or my misadventures in theatre, or Chris and his spandex. I still have to write about many things, but spandex has no place in an Anne Frank memorial/Acting journey/Thanksgiving To God Blog. (Or does it...?)

A funny thought that often crosses my mind is, what if Anne was born in 1990 like I? What if she had the privilege to be raised in the freedom of the USA? What would she be like? What if her only worries of the day were having dropped her cell phone in the toilet? What if she was 19 years old, and had a car and went to college, what would she be doing? Would she listen to Lady GaGa while driving down the road? (Oh, you know that she would love Lady GaGa.) Would she be going for a journalism degree? Would she be writing a blog, instead of a diary? Would she be writing about reading the diary of a 15 year old girl who died in the Holocaust?

Would she be like me?

-Me

Bicycle Shorts

Have you ever reached a point where you're so tired that you're unaware that your tired, but then your realize, "hey, I'm tired."

Well, that's me. I am exhausted. Dance classes every day (my body is old, ya'll), rehearsal every night, theater functions that require me to mingle with people, etc. But, regardless of all of this, I am very, very, very happy. Can I explain the great parts of my days to you? Well, I'm going to anyway.

Yesterday, the theatre department had a cook out. I went and ate a hotdog, although I hate hotdogs. It was very fun, and I felt my 2 years of awkwardness slowly vanish. I found myself talking to people, and driving people, and talking. And eating with people and talking, and dear me, it was amazing. I'm amazed in the strength I can have when I have a little faith.

Regardless, today was more fun.

I get in class today at 8. It's design. Susan has us take our headshots and cut them up. I cut off my double chin, because the only headshot I could find was from my freshman year, when I had a double chin. (You know, the infamous fridge picture). I was fat then.

I also wore colourful eyeshadow.

Today, in jazz, was the treat. I'm already better at what we learned Tuesday, which shows me that I am a fast learner, just not a fast executioner. But, the funny part came when the boys were told that they HAD to wear tights or bicycle shorts and a dance belt. And although I don't know what a dance belt looks like, I know what it is used for. Infer for yourself.

Anyhoo, I was siting stretching, when out Chris comes in a pair of spandex bicycle shorts. I went up to him and laughed at him for a solid minute. He promptly sat down and hid everything. I laughed a little more. Then I told him he didn't look so bad because I didn't want to hurt his feelings, and I could tell he was self-conscious. And he really didn't look that bad, just ridiculous.

It wasn't so bad from behind. *shrug* I also told him this so he would feel better about himself. If it had the desired affect is debatable, but judging from my basic intuition, it did.

Apparently he was cornered by the teacher for wearing his standard, modest bottoms. So, you do what you have to do, I suppose.

After dancing (me being pulled out again for lack of coordination), Chris (sans shorts), me, and one of Chris' friends, Volpi, went walking and we stopped by my old acting teachers office. You remember, DV. Chris is basically in love with him, and DV shares a similar fondness for Chris. For some reason, everyone loves Chris, making it their personal goal to befriend him. It's sad really, because very few people know what a true jerk he is.

Anyhoo, we all went in the office and I sat down and sat in the corner, and DV was fabulously kind to me, and he asked what I had been doing, and I was very excited because I think he may be starting to like me.

I dunno, whatever, it was exciting.

So then we went to lunch, I served Volpi a little Jesus along side a BLT panini. I said someone needed Jesus, and then I asked him if he had Jesus, and he said, "Not... really." And Chris told him that was the wrong answer because I've already given Chris the Jesus talk several times. But I was kind and I told him that regardless I would pray for him and that his life would be blessed, but not in that creepy way that some Christians do it. Or in that way that makes someone feel inferior or uncomfortable. Speaking of serving Jesus, Amanda singled me out. Glad someone recognizes my greatness.

Wait, I'm trying to be humble now. I am nothing. But awesome.

(Okay, I'll work on that)

My friend Jenny is mad at me though because I went and ate with them instead. :( If feel sad because of this, but I apologized and I'll draw her a picture of horses to compensate for my lack of consideration.

I say au revoir, because I have a little french due for the morrow, and, for my free night, I plan to beat the turtles out of my script. Enjoy life. Eat pizza and get some rest.

-Me.

"You have ham breath."

Hai ya'll.

As I sit in the office ordering scripts of things that aren't even available on Amazon (how is this possible?!) I write a blog at Nikki's insistence. Speaking of which, I just visited said page, and and the lipstick is ridiculous. For shame.

So, I start college for my 3rd year (!) the 23, and I have auditions the 28th. After the mega flop that was my first college audition that consisted of a harshly memorized monologue, a last minute head shot and comments that included "well, you have nice stage presence......," I am sort of nervous. BUT; after working my hardest on not being over the top, of channeling my energy and creating a character, I believe I will succeed. Especially with my latest success at obtaining the title character in The Diary of Anne Frank. I don't want to discuss that too much though; I'm afraid it might effect my over all humbleness. They say the meek shall inherit; therefore, I am dirt.

I believe I have found a way that acting actually works (for me) and it does not include objectives, unlike what college continually drills into you. I'm not against objectives; if they are your thing. But for me, personally, I do not go through my day thinking "I really desire this biscuit because it is buttery and warm, but I do not desire it because it will go to my hips." No, I just eat the biscuit and complain about my stummy hurting later. Do we go though our days, thinking why we do each and everything? No. Therefore I develop a character, and become said character and act accordingly.

At least it make sense to me. Experiment, I suppose?

Anyhoodle, at WCU they are doing 3 plays, none of them I've heard of, rationally, but I'm auditioning all the same. I have to have 2 monologues; one is the one from Anne Frank ("Look, Peter, the sky.") and the other one is... debatable. I think I'm going to do this one on why this guy should kill himself for a million dollars. That contrasts right?

I've been so busy pondering over all of this, working, eating Mrs. Reynold's candy, rehearsing and flirting (...) that I've hardly had time for anything else. Much less blogging; but I should be more patient and let people know that I am least alive.

So, as I hopefully get ready to eat lunch, I will leave you for now; because Abigail is waiting for me. I hate you all and I hope that you have a disastrous time.

-Me

I would be the dead prisoner.

So, when was the last time I wrote a blog...? I have no idea.

Why the abandonment? Well, it has something mighty to do with college. Anymore, I am always so very, very, very busy. Not with anything important mind you, just stuff. For example, every Monday, Wednesday and Friday at 11 I eat with Troy. We eat at this taco joint every MWF off campus. Troy's current obsession is being fit, so while he gets a whole wheat burrito with grilled onions and spinach (no, seriously), I get to eat his chips because he has to be fit. He always gives me good chips too, so I usually get double the chips.

This is what my life consists of.

So at night, I have this problem where I stay sleepy all day (especially right after school) and I just want to nap, but I want to sleep at night. So I don't sleep. But then, at night, I go to sleep and it takes me like, and hour to fall asleep. Mind you, I get all rilled up because I imagine things (mainly living at Hogwarts) and I get excited and I can't sleep, but eventually I have to just relax and sleep. It's frustrating.

I've also gained this new love for any blue sports drink. If it's blue, and a sports drink, I will devour it.

So, I am currently in Joesph and the...whatever. The title is too long. You know what I speak of. It is such a fun show... but very, very exhausting. I'm a fairly fit person (yes, yes, I know, I don't look it, I'm so fat, etc.) but when "Poor Poor Joesph" rolls around I want to collapse. Although, my favourite scene is "Close Every Door To Me" because I lay on the floor. It so relaxing. Just don't be surprised if I end up playing the dead rotten prisoner.

And may I say, I am immensely impressed with how magnificent my solo is in "Go Go Joesph". Why, I daresay I embody that man. "Hey Dreamer..."

And, my dancing has sort of improved, right?

So, yeah, lets talk about College.

COLLEGE.

I LOVE college. I'm not particularly good at it, I have a handful of friends, but I really do enjoy it. I am beyond ready for summer though. All these papers are pilling up. I have to design all of The Glass Menagerie for an Honours Contract, I have a French skit, I have to write a lesson plan on Death of a Salesman and I an ecology paper, another honours contract in Francais. I love French though. I won't say I'm good at it; in fact, I'm dismal. But I have always enjoyed it immensely. -OR- Mais, Je me suis amuse quand parle francais.

Okay, so that is actually saying, But I have always enjoyed myself when speaking French, but more or less, its the same. My vocabulary is limited, okay?

I also have Voice and Articulation, which is hard. Seriously, I am awful awful at it. We're talking about 71 awful. Something about voiced vowels throws me crazy. Do I score it, do I not? Lessac, your books pictures are funny, may I at least colour in their pupils? I can at least say I'm decent at the NG Oboe. Like I got the whole section right. *note: it was the only section I got entirely right. That and the "is it unvoiced or voiced" section and the cognates section. Linking easy as pie. Seriously, I want to kiss it it's so easy next to scoring. Vowels, meh, I don't know. I haven't done the homework yet.

I also have Dr. Beam. We are kindred spirits. There is no denying it at this point. He has the vest that says 'WADA' on it, and I was the only one who knew what it meant. You know what it meant? "Wizardry Academy of Dramatic Arts." From Harry Potter. Yes. Dr. Beam is a Potterphile. Like obsessive too. On his door, it has the Hogwarts crest and says, "Dr. Richard S. Beam - Professor of Theatre Wizardry."

He's tries to out Potter me sometimes, but, because it is impossible, I've mauled him. Or shall I say, I've stupify-ed him.

Right now I say au revoir, for I have to go get my hair trimmed. I hope you are all dazzling, and I hope the wood nymphs treat you kindly.

Yours truly,

-Me

I was going to be hateful, but that's not nice.

*le sigh* Okay, I was going to write a blog about all the things I hate (the phrase 'lol', people only post pictures of themseves on facebook, facebook in general, puffy shoes, fake fur, etc.) but it kind of put me in a not angsty mood, so now, I'm just going to talk about nonsesnse and see if any logic comes out of it, mkay? Mkay.

The Superbowl happened. I didn't care.

The Olymics will happen. I still don't care.

I have The Sims 3 now. It's delightful. No seriously; it's my life.

So sleepy. Got in bed at 12; Woke up at 5. Studying for beastly test in Ecology, but it wasn't that bad (probably because I studied.)

Had Rolling Stone with Troy-Troy today. We talked about how stupid girls and guys are. How very, very stupid. My tilapia had a lot of bones. It freaked me out. So Troy gave me all of his good chips. It made me smile. And we looked up videos of cars and balloons. I then went to Voice and Articulation. I saw a girl looking on the SMCPA site, looking for the cast list and I smiled to myself because I know things. So many things. Mainly that Frankie keeps Reeces' Cups in a jar in the office. And that those Reeces' Cups are just for me.

Although I almost nudged her and said "Don't expect if for another 5 hours."

I misses my Kelly. :(

Oh, and in other very important news:

THIS. And if the video doesn't work, just click this.

A. That's quite possibly the cheesiest thing I have ever seen.
B. Oh, Daniel. How could you? "Come on guys!"
C. May I go now?

Oh desire, you burn so bright. Expecially in the form of a Harry Potter theme park. :) :) Love, love, love, love, love, love, loveee.

The end. I'm going to take a nap now.

-Me.

I do love Orange Soda...

Because Sociology was canceled, and I am going to wait and eat lunch until my lunch break, I am currently in the library, and I feel like expressing my...dorkiness to the world; mkay? Mkay!

This is titled: Why I love stage movement.

Why do I love stage movement? There is really only one reason. I am not particularly good or particularly fond of it. It's not a camaraderie class, or a easy class. It's hard and I have to work to be decent. BUT, I love it. And why?

Because...it has scope for imagination:
Yes, while I am doing all my silly stomping and marching, squats and statues and what not, there is always one thing going on in my mind. Today, it was Mulan.

As we march across the room, to our distinctly asian music, I have one thought running through my mind; I. Am. Mulan. My warriors are all around me, all men, and I'm the secret woman. I have proceeded to sing "I'll Make A Man Out of You," all day today. Complete with warrior march. While I go to class.

As I raise my invisible "spear," it is not a spear to me, but a wand. I raise that wand and imagine my billowy robes. As I do the whole "move like taffy," exercise, I stick my arm in the dueling position, ready to AK* some of Voldemort's posterior.

I raise my hands in front of me; I am Rafiki raising Simba while on pride rock.
When we do sitting statues, I am not just Rachel; I am a super hero, in flying position. And yes, my name is often 'The Feline Avenger.' My cape billows from my neck.

After doing 3 minutes of marching (Yes. 3 minutes. Of solid marching. My thighs are becoming quite hard.) and when I have to arise from the ground, I pretend I am a vampire, a newborn. (sorry, all you vampirelore people out there; twilight sparkly vampires will always be my favourite idea of a vampire.) Or a tigress. Or something even stupider.

When we do our rapier work (yes, me. With a sword. Lord help us all), I pretend as if I am slashing Zombies.

And we do everything to either Asian Techno or Asian Swing or Asian Battle Songs. Give or take; imagine that.

[end of nerdfit.]

I hope everyone is well. I saw Annie and it was quite precious. Jazzy was stupendous. And everyone else was alright. :) And that pencil moustache really suits you; reminds me of something else...

I found a hotpink guitar paperclip in the library. I'm taking it; because it makes my day. One has to find the small things in life to enjoy. Sure life is tough but we just have to count our blessings. I was feeling off yesterday, and I thought, "God, why ever are you not showering me with blessings? I don't understand. I'm a decent Christian; I have a slight potty mouth and I gossip something awful, but I'm trying to fix myself. I love everybody and try to do my best in everything; but why are things not going my way?" But then, I started thinking about it, and things are going my way; slowly but surely. And I am truly blessed; but it's all about patience my friends; patience.

My motto that has been deemed a stupid motto by someone who is even stupider is this:
Pray about everything, worry about nothing, and do your best.

[end of Godspeech.]

Speaking of speeches, I got my grade back from communications on my Zombie Speech (In 3 parts: The Zombie's Prevalence in Pop Culture, The Zombie, and Survival), and I made a 100. Speaking of this, reminds me of something else: I have this whole outlook on life where I will things to go my way. When it involves me at least. I pray, and then I will that I'll do well and... I do. It's fascinating. "It's like magic!"

...I fell like such a freak. More so than usual. :(
I also feel a bit like Pollyanna. "Let's play the glad game..."

Sadly, I do play the glad game. I was talking to Chris the other day and he was complaining about having so many scripts to read and I told him it could be worse; he could be bald. He agreed; that would be worse. We then figured out that he would be bald when he got older; I think it disheartened him a little. And then, after this whole eye surgery deal, I told him it could be worse. And he didn't see how, but I told him he could be blind. And he agreed, it could be worse.

...I'm so infectious. I'm like the happy disease. And I'm using a whole lotta semi-colons (;) for some reason. Pardon me, English teachers as you wriggle in pain.

Actually my happiness is making me vomit a little because it's so out of character. I am usually so... snarky.

So, onward with snark. November 21st, New Moon is arriving to theatres. One of two things is going to happen: I am going to dress like Alice Cullen, the love of my life who I want to be so bad it hurts; and I am going to squeal with girlish delight at the whole experience because I secretly love those books with all my heart that isn't taken up by Harry Potter or Nutella. Which doesn't leave much space, but you know...whatever.

I do like Edward Cullen, I do. I like his broody prissiness. I just don't like the fact that he watches Bella sleep. That's... creepy. That and the fact that he actually goes back and oils her window so he can properly sneak in without making a sound.
Edward: That's creepy.

I do hate Bella though, although, as bad as Kristen Stewart is, I do enjoy her portrayal of Bella. She takes the whine factor down a lot. And I am thankful. I do hope she plays off the whole "Edward's gone," thing better than Bella does in the book. 4 blank pages with nothing but months on them to show the passing of time... please Bella. No boy is worth wallowing in self pity! I haven't done that since...
...
...Let's play the glad game! At least Edward isn't dead!

[Just kidding; the last time I wallowed in self pity wasn't too long ago, (I usually light a candle and listen to Celine Dion and just...lay there. My mother tells me I can be a little dramatic. *sigh* C'est Vrai.) but as for the matter of doing it over a boy, I don't think I've done that since like, the 8th grade.]

But let's talk about High Brow literature: Harry Potter.

Voldemort is. The best. Character. In this world. EVER.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
I am Lord Voldemort. That was always my Harry Potter nickname. Well, technically we called me Lord Voldiepizzle [My gangster Wizard Name; yo.], but still, more or less.

Which brings me to the birthday present I still have to put on my car. Kaley [lovingly] sent me 5 bumper stickers that look like this:
I can't find an adequate picture, but they say "Republicans For Voldemort."

Now, yes, I realize this is supposed to be an anti-republican joke (Oh, you liberals are so witty!), but, once I am both Lord Voldemort and I think Lord Voldemort is the...cats meow, AND I am a God-fearing Republican, it must go on my car. But where to put it? I think it needs to cover up that cheesy one that says "And what difference do you make," that I didn't put on there because it's cheesy. No one will help me take it off though, because they think it's cool. Blegh.

...HARRY POTTER RULES.

So, yeah, that's life. Pretty delicious, I daresay, but busy. I read a lot. And watch A LOT of Disney movies. And Anne of Green Gables. I'm getting in touch with my inner child or something. Whatever.

Speaking of reading, I have one tiny qualm to discuss before I exit. If I, have to read, one more book with a beautiful but unnoticed heroine, who gets the dreamy popular guy and they fall in love within two weeks, and no one notices her but him, and oh, she's so special now, and wait, SHE IS SPECIAL in the way that Jesus was special to her whole entire race and she's going to be the saviour to them all, all while having her dreamy mancake and being gorgeous and unique and interesting, I AM GOING TO BARF. All these cheesy teen books are so cheesy. I've read a few lately because I'm not feeling up to reading the meaty classics I usually read, but heck, I'm dragging those bad boys out. I cannot take another selfless and gorgeous heroine. I can't. I can't do it guys.

WHY CAN'T A HEROINE BE FAT AND UGLY UNIQUE. I feel like I'm ugly, (I've already figured this one out; it's good to be ugly [in fact I favour being ugly] because then people like you for you and not for your looks. America is obsessed with looks; it's good too be liked for more.)or at least not ubber attractive by normal standards, and I'm unique and interesting. AUTHORS, QUIT MAKING YOUR HEROINE'S BEAUTIFUL. I'M TIRED.

Thank you Jane Eyre. For simply existing.

(sidenote: WHY IS THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME NOT A BROADWAY MUSICAL [besides in Germany.] I WANT TO KNOW.)

I'm going to go get lunch now. G'dbye.

-Me.

Pee.Ess.
GUYS I THINK I'M PSYCHIC. NO SERIOUSLY. I had a dream last night that my mom worked for Sesame Street and she had kept Elmo, Grover and Oscar the Grouch and they were in my closet. I don't know why I dreamed this because there was honestly no catalyst.

THEN I FOUND OUT IT WAS SESAME STREETS 40TH ANNIVERSARY. THIS MORNING.

I. Have. A. GIFT.


*Avada Kedavra: The Killing Curse. DUH.

Look who found his way on Beatrice...

I bring my laptop to rehearsals for the waiting period, and I am fortunate enough to have a present as my wallpaper when I get back on:


...if only we all were so fortunate. *eyeroll*

-Me

To Be A Cantalope

NO
If Miley Cyrus gets Ariel Moore I will vomit all over the reel and request that they do it over.
No. No. No.

Regarding Twilight:
HEYS LOOK YOU GUYS A NEW POSTER
I love how Bells is all up in Jacob's space. And Edward like, cries a tear. Well technically no, because vampires can't cry, but he I suppose he can dry sob or whatever.
Oh and Breaking Dawn has been confirmed as a movie, so the whole, Cesarean-by-fangs thing is gonna go great. I can see it now...



On the Harry Potter front, news is lame. There is a whole lotta new clips and scenes being leaked from the new movie, but I usually avoid them like the plague. Why you may ask? Well, you take a movie you were looking forward to like everything, you watch all the clips and scenes and when you go to the theatre you already know the whole movie and it's all so spoiled for you. With something like Harry, spoiling it is the last thing I want.

I love you Harry.

As well as this, this is the only other news available on Potterfront:
THEY BOUGHT FURNITURE? FOR THE SET?

Even I have now hit a point where I don't care. We should set up a news site for whenever we buy set stuff. "Today Effie picked up carpet remnants; I wonder where that will go." "Scotty purchased some paint and a set of three hangers. This is important news."

Harry Potter fans: if this is the sort of news you cling to... shame.

...I love you Harry.

In other, other, other news, I have my Peter Pan review finished. All I lack is the videos to upload and then, I shall jumpstart that magic into this world.
Then I have to do Beauty and the Beast.
Hee, B&B was pure, pure joy to my heart.

Onward to AIDA:
So, tonight is Strongest Suit night, so needless to say I brought in the reinforcements (i.e. water, sweatable clothes, etc.) I just want to have a light up dress of light up robot goodness. And to dance. My passion is dancing.

I'm a slave too. And Nikki is my slavely mother. I feel like she's our mother at least. She's our princess/mother. I love you Nikki.

Scotty got us little notebooks last rehearsal. And I was in heaven. I love goodies. Goodiess... I have big goodies in store. :)

I've been working on my script for the past, well, forever, and by the time I get it done I probably won't have to use it any more but whatever, do what you must. It's been fun. We should have Script Parties! To fold and cut and mend... and whatever, I like it.

And I bought Sidewalk Chalk. To advertise. Shut up, I like advertising.

End of AIDA.

So, I must say adieu my friends because I'm tired of looking at this blog entry. Gday.

-Me

Pee.Ess. Come to The Rachel Show Project T tomorrow night at 7:30 in the FAC. I'm emceeing/rapping/dancing/making a fool out of myself/etc. Entry is articles of clothing and/or donations that go to El Salvador. But don't come because of El Salvador (because, who cares? I don't.), come to see meee...

Beam me up, Scotty!

HAI U GUYSS! GUESS WHAT?

That's right. I'm out. Like, from school. For three months. Jealous?
Because you should be.

Anyhoo, as I sit in the library at Western... hold up. Why am I at Western? Well my beloved laptop Beatrice's touch pad went all faulty on me, so I had them fix it. And they did a gorgeous job. She's little sad to leave the I.T. building though. So many handsome, young, strapping and flirtatious male laptops waiting on her every purr, and she gets to go home to my rinkydink gentleman desktop Sir Henry. He's in love with her; as is every other electronic. But will she ever realize his appeal? I doubt it because I sure don't.

Sooo, Summer Plans:
Work. Somewhere. I'll figure it out. ;)
AIDA AIDA AIDA
Hopefully the Foreigner; something with it, be it tech or acting. I'm obviously not picky.

Going along with the Aida train of thought: HANDMAIDEN GIFT BASKETS. Or should I say Pyramids? Once there are several more handmaidens than Bird Girls I'm going more so for crafty and cheep than "hey lets buy lots of stuff and I'll sew buttons on it, okay? Okay!" approach. Looking back, will I get everyone something? No.
For two reasons: 1. there are like, 14 handmaidens. If you think I am painstakingly going to cut pyramid gift boxes and glitter them for 14 handmaidens, you are sadly mistaken. 2. I'm poor and can only afford so many pairs of drawers. I think I'll just tie-dye white ones or something though. How does that make you feel? To think of me tie-dying your panties, eh?

Speaking of Handmaidens and Co. I've put the whole lot of them on a diet. Walking once a week and although the mass majority can't walk past a mile it is progress and by the time the play comes around we shall all be fit. Turns out I am surprisingly fit; I toted my 45 pound cousin up a steep and long driveway and back without even getting tired. I was impressed with this.
Although I do have the most horrible lungs. Untreated asthma or something. Whatever.
And all this fitness is disguised by a whole lotta fat. Mm.

Our first try was kind of failed though. I come out of the bathroom dressed in shorts and tennis shoes and they're all walking in decorative flip flops and normal shoes. Sillies. Had blisters. We walked half a mile and the whole lot was worn. We walked back and then went to Pizza Hut, which essentially kind of makes everything not exactly work and kind of useless.

Then crazy stuff happened that was weird and we're not going to relive it, mkay? Okay, so we will. One day. I'm kind of worn out. I have a Lock-In Recap floating in my drafts and I'll post it... sometime. I got to prune it to my preferences.

And I have to find a name for our Aida Fitness Days for Aida Fitness Days is a mouthful but not so much a mouthful as "Elaborate Lives are not so elaborate when they are fat," which is more or less my favourite. "Enchantment Passing Through my muscles hurts like a Pharaoh" doesn't quite work either. I'll think of something. "A Step To Far for I think I'm going to die..."

So, LETS TALK ABOUT AIDA SOME MORE! *hint: this is going to be life this summer. So get used to me talking about this.

So after our Plink Nights I have decided that I am tone deaf. Well, I sort of knew this and I can sort of tell when I'm major off but sort of not and it's all dastardly. I dunno. Kelly sung on-key in gentle tones in my ear to help me get on key and that helped a whole lotta. But my Kelly will not always be there to hold my hand, and *le sigh* this saddens me. We are kindred spirits my friend. :(

Anyhoo, all the handmaidens get to wear towels.
And I get to, more or less, wear something like this:

Fierce. In all actuality this is a unitard and the original word was "body stocking," but if you google body stocking you get something a little more... risque? Sure. So I'm thinking, "unitard" was more in mind. I will then be beamed up to the mothership at the end.

Don't be hating.

So, back to something else, my Dearest Kelly is doing a show for her Senior Project and who is to be in it but yours truly. We're doing "Snuff the Girl" from Urinetown and I'm *gasp* dancing. Kelly actually trusts me that much. Egad, what?

I also think she wants me to Emcee or something or something that's sort of like an Emcee but more like I walk out and dance and walk off and something happens and we're not sure what and it's all like Spaghetti Cat and Tavern Beaver and you just don't know.

And that's what I contribute. The More You Know

And in other news, I have picked up reading again now that the purgatory named college is over, and I am reading 2 books. One is 200 pages and is thoroughly boring but Kelly told me I would love it and obviously I do a lot for Kelly and I trust her opinion on what I like for we're pretty similar in this aspect. The Catcher in the Rye is this one and I keep waiting for the interesting part. I just got to the part where he buys a hooker, and I'm still not intrigued so there you go.

My other book is 600 pages and I'm halfway done with it as well. The Host by same woman who did Twilight. It's amazing. Even though the narrator annoys me a little in this one as well. She's such a pansy, but it's justifiable and works. But the person whose body she had taken over is not; she's hardcore. It's sad but great with lots of sections in it that are like, you know, the camping sections in Deathly Hallows where you just wait till its over so you get to that one good chapter and then we're camping again. Whatever. I found myself crying of the characters anguish last night. Don't judge me.

The guy she's in love with though is named Jared. Jared. This is significant.
He's also a jerk. How... appropriate. But pretty much my favourite character so there you go.

Anyhoodle, I'm off to Wal*Mart to buy a tape adapter because if I listen to what I have to listen to anymore I'll carve ornate bedposts out of my legs or something. Whatever. Good day friends.

-Me

Pee.Ess.
Grades!:
Religion: A-
Psycology: A
Acting I: B (WHAT?!)
Stagecraft: A+
Comp II: B

Meanwhile, Effie is in the light booth, doing the time warp...

A few updaties:

Almost Maine: is Fin. Oh thank goodness. Afterwards, I will say I missed it a little. I dunno if it was just the stage experience or what, but after spending 2 weeks with a group of people, I suppose you do feel a little melancholy. I made a few friends and I will miss them. Regardless, the most will be doing shows again, so I reckon I shall see them again.
As much as I miss a few, the relief of not being there from 12 to 10 is the best feeling ever.

In general, I felt like it was an okay show. I won't go so far as to say it was amazing and life changing, but the kids could act and I've seen so much worse. (Yes Beauty and the Beast I am talking to you.) Like I said before, my empathy meter to the whole thing was on low, but overall, it was a functional play. Alex, on the other hand, hate, hate, hated it.

Of course, my minuscule, blink-and-miss-it part that you couldn't see because the lights were out is really what gave it any kudos in the first place. :)

So, from the backlash of Almost Maine I have a whole lotta work. I have 2 1/2 pages done on my Aida paper out of 12, and I have 2 days to finish it.

Alack, stress.

Oh, and we had a Lock in, but a detailed explanation of that later. All I will say about the subject for now is:
Dead Deers
Initiation
Biting Robbie AND Sam
Hula Hoop Contests
Matching Tinkerbell Pajamas
Wink and Tangle
BLOWHORN
"Where's our stuff?"
John-Mark attempts spooning. And fails.
"Rachel is so worn out."
A sad attempt at Sardines.
Prison Break.
"I'm so bloody tired." BLOWHORN

And please realize I slept at Scotty's feet the whole time. Slept at... is that not the epitome of pathetic? No wonder everyone thinks I actually like him. Blegh.
*note: I hate Scotty Corbin. I will destroy him.
*second note: ...okay, I don't. It would be like hating myself.

Anyhoo, in other notes:
AIDA AUDITIONS

So, we had Aida auditions. Kelly *added* to the dance, and I thought, hm, FAIL. So I ended up looking like I had the jerks or something. Score. We then sang, and I thought, I could sing this alone, but then I thought, nah, I'll probably freak out. Which I did. When I didn't do it. I shook. A lot. Then acting auditions, and everyone laughed at me. Afterwards Nikki had me sit beside her and she cradled my feelings because she is the only person who has any sense of compassion in this whole group.
...I love you Nikki.

Speaking of my acting audition: I'm right and you're wrong.

Looks at their feet!

Now, a few more things regarding Aida:
1. If I don't get cast, I would like the two following technical jobs: Costume Crew Chief (Mainly, I choose this just because I want someone to clean up the dressing room) and Effie's partner. i.e. I sit in the back with the lights and chill with Ef. And make sure she chooses "stair" light instead of "star" light. Or make sure she doesn't black out in the middle of the song. And we'll probably do the timewarp in the back or something, I dunno. I just want a claim on these positions if the "what if" happens. Hope it doesn't, but I'm marking my turf if it does.

2. There is a conspiracy theory going around that today Scotty is posting the cast list. According to Alex, tis true, but, then again, it is Scotty and we know how he works. What a trickster.

3. I've already figured out my presents that will be sort of like the bird girl baskets.) It's cheep and highly creative, so I relish in it. I just have to find a some of the right stuff...

4. I already have a photo album started for Aida...

And here we goooo

I hope you realize that the best photo of the all (of any photo ever made for that matter) is the one of Effie lurking. Oh, Effie, I love you.

Anyhoo, I need to stop talking about this Aida and start writing 6 more pages about the other Aida. Good day friends, and I await by my email account for ye ol' cast list, be it conspiracy or not.

-Me

Nothing says "I'm protesting my typecast" like a naked romp on stage.

In news not directly related to me:

Spring Awakening is being made into a movie
I'm kind of, sort of, not really fond of this musical. Music: good. Theme: bad bad baddy bad. It's like a gigantic teenage angst drama set in ancient Germany or something. All the same, we all know I'll be at the theater.

After all, not much can be worse than Mamma Mia!

Zac Efron: NO MORE FOOTLOOSE D:
WHAT? You and Daniel Radcliff wanting to create a new image for yourself. *sigh* Silly Zaquisha, do you not know that you are forever indebted to HSM? It created you. And I say much of the same thing to you DanRad. You are forever Harry Potter (at least in my mind...)

Speaking of Zac and Daniel parallels:
Pants off to gratious nudity!

Everyone is prepping up for Aida as of right now on the Overlook side of things. All us teenagers (hold on a second; I'm 18. I'm an adult. *snort*) are going crazy. I've [almost] got the audition dance down pat, except for the rhythm (Rhythm!? What is this rhythm you speak of?!) but, at least I have the moves down... right? Anyhoo, I can hardly wait and, with my almost official job at the Dessert Factory this summer I can just shimmy on over to the SMACPAC and party with buttons and what not. YEAH!

And today as I went into the scene shop Luther and some guy took time out of class to play us a concert with a harmonica and a fiddle respectively. They were both good, but I couldn't help but reflect on the randomness of it all. I mean, who does that?

Besides Uncle Scotty, the piano, and his Broadway/Disney songs and my singing "Memory" at the top of my lungs. But we hardly count as odd.

In other, other, other news, I won't be seeing any of you for 2 whole weeks much. Working tech for "Almost Maine" here at WCU for practicum hours. Happy? No. But the actors were loving enough: they all got us a bottle of Sunpop. Small cast; they seem weird enough. As for skill, not too bad. There were parts where I should have been laughing/crying and I did neither throughout the whole production, but hey, whatever, they're not bad. It's a cute play in general although I'm not sure if it's something I'm going to like watching as many times as I'll have to. Although rehearsals are from 6:30 to about 9:30 and by the time I get home it's 10, so technically, I now live at Western. Fortunately Jenny shall sacrifice her dorm services when necessary and I am pleased for this. Besides these times I have to be there around 12:00 on Sundays, so you know what that means: no church. Miffed? Yes. Does that matter. No.

And I have to dress in stupid winter clothes. To move things backstage. So take the amount I sweat now and multiply it by 10,000. It may not be snowing on stage, but it definantly will be raining.

Anyway, they should probably be dressed warmer because, technically it's Maine (hm, how about that!) and it would be sort of cool for them to have a snow machine but I'm not judging, I'm not, I swear.



...whatever. Judge for yourself.

ANDD GUESSS WHATTT?
And here's an explanation. SO THIS IS ESSENTIALLY LIKE CHRISTMAS COMING EARLY.
I really should buy me another Harry Potter shirt. All mine are like, from the fourth movie and from a time when shorter shirts were in. And I need longer shirts because I have a huge torso.... sooo...

HARRY POTTER IS COMING OUT JULY 15TH AH.
So many preparations.

Speaking of which, if everyone remembers my previous audio problems in my car (lack of iPod adapter, Linda Ronstadt, etc.) I am delighted to say I have found a temporary answer to this problem of nothing to listen to by checking out Half Blood Prince on audio tape.

Jim Dale (who was from Barnum. Which is the worst Broadway. Ever.) does the voices and its... concerning? Yeah, I'll go with that. Because:

1. Bellatrix and Narcissa sound Italian, for, some, reason.
2. Dumbledore sounds like he's going to die any minute (Hm, how ironic!)
3. It is so hilarious to hear Jim Dale trying to do female voices. He has a great narrator voice, but gee, to here him try to get all high pitch like Hermione with the I failed everything flail is made of fail all on it's own. And Ginny sounds like a man. But I hate Ginny so it's okay.
4. Snape sounds like a chain smoker. And less malicious and more drawing. For some reason I imagine him sitting in a high back chaired and stroking a cat. And wearing a turban. I dunno. Which reminds me of Draco. Who reminds me of... I don't know what, it's just bad.
5. Just a side note: Voldemort is probably the dweebiest villain ever. "LETS SMASH SOME BRIDGES! THAT'S EVIL, RIGHT?! YEAH!" I mean, who does that?
6. And I had to stop the tape when I heard Jim Dale's Fleur voice. I died.
7. Lastly, Tonks sounds way too perky.
8. Never mind, this is lastly: How we are first introduced to Harry.

Whatever, I'm done.

-Me

Heavenly Aida, mystical garland of light and flowers...?

Some "while I wait for mom to come out of the grocery store" musings:

Sevy looks so nice since I have cleaned him out. I vacuumed and everything. He's very appreciative; I can tell by his hum.

It's not a pleasant sort of felling when you go to wipe Subway sandwich off your mouth, when suddenly you realize the napkin has a different texture. You then realize that you happened to puck up the blackened dirt rag you had forgotten to take out when you cleaned your car.

What's even worse than this, perhaps, is when your adapter for your iPod is tore up and you're stuck choosing from the collection of cassettes the former owner of Sevy gave you because she didn't want them. The choices? Van Morrison, Lynda Ronstadt, Paul Simon and Beethoven. I went with Lynda and sort of regret it.

Sort of.

But it fun to go around all of Franklin in this beautiful weather blaring Beethoven. Alas, the looks you get.

For something completely unrelated, I have a 12 page paper due in English at the end of the semester. For some odd reason the idea of Harry Potter and Morality wasn't "sophisticated" enough, although Tolkien and his Elfin Language and Dr. Seuss' Political Messages are. Huh. She even bothered to ask me "Who cares?"

I care. Theology majors care. English majors care. Harry Potter fans care. Concerned Christian parents care. Crazy book burning Christian parents care. Other parents care. Everyone cares. I mean, they've written tons of books on this subject; I can't see how it isn't important.

But this didn't suit her. She wanted something that would be beneficial to my future. So she asked my my major was and my future job plans. I told her Drama Teacher/Heir/Dictator, etc. and she said "perfect." So now, I get to do something about a play.

Still not that bad.

So, I'm doing Aida. Taking the opera opera and the new musical and analyzing and comparing, hidden meanings, the story, etc. etc. Whatever. Checked out the opera, and *snort* it's great.

This would be Radames:
...bwahahahahahahahha.
Well, at least we know someone won't have to go to the gym to get ready for the show. Not that he would anyway...

Here are some of this hilarious lyrics:

And here is Amneris, looking like something from a Cher concert:

And this is sort of as far as I've got. So like, within 12 minutes or something.
It's not very exciting.
Imagine.

Anyhoo, the report should be interesting, even though it's next to impossible to find any scholarly books on the musical version of Aida. I'll Amazon it or something, but I'm really suffering here.

On some other notes, Harry Potter news sites are reaaallly suffering. The news consits of "J.K. Rowling resigns from MS Society Scotland." And I say, who cares? I would rather them post nothing but things I care about like new books, or movie stills, or the *squee* theme park. But this? I care not.

But I despise J.K. Rowling. I know, it makes no sense. Whatever.

And my mother just ate some 2002 expired oatmeal. It clumped up and after the first few bites she stopped and said it tasted odd. We're kind of hoping it had weevils in it. "Yummy yummy, I've got weevils in my tummy," is an exact quote.

*sigh*

-Me

Pee.Ess. JACKPOT!

Ellipsoidals and Chocolate

Being sick is a beast.  A literal beast.  Friday I go to the health department and they say "do you want a flu shot?" And I say, "No, I rarely ever get sick." Which is true, because I rarely do.  Saturday, I notice a sore throat, and Sunday I feel like crap, and this morning I don't feel all too great.  It's mostly a cold or something  but I don't feel good at all.  I can't taste anything except my DayQuil.  Speaking of which, is it supposed to make you awake?  Because I took it last night and I couldn't sleep and I almost had vertigo or something because I felt like my brain was literally spinning.  I hardly know, but it defiantly wasn't fun and I only got like, 5 hours of sleep.

:(

I'm not happy.  :(

In other news, my spring break is over.

I made a 49 out of 50 in my Psy test, and a 92 on my religion Midterm and I am quite pleased.

I am also pleased about the pleasant weather and the springtime feelings all around.

Today in my Stagecraft class we got to take all the lights of the pipe things from above.  I was able to say "that's an ellipsoidal" and I got to help put them in the right position.  I put all the shutters in, took out the gels, put them upright, unplugged them, took the safety off and then I got to unscrew them (with a wrench) from the C-clamp and I got Josh to cart them off because I'm clumsy and they're heavy.

But then I was slightly angry (this whole being sick thing has made me grumpy) because this stupid girl who was picking up the gels was like "is it okay if I stack them, I'm afraid I'm going to break them..."

They're thin pieces of plastic...  Not to mention, if you did, they have that stuff on big rolls so it's not like it would be a real loss or anything.  Stupid.

SEUSSICAL:

Is amazing.  Everyday I have a little more fun.  We had 2 hours worth of BG bonding/practice Friday, which improved us greatly, I committed my 3rd felony by rolling down the sacred Indian burial ground hill thing (admire the beauty here), and it's amazing.  I am also winning the sweat contest by a landslide (my label is completely off.  What now, what now?) and it's so much fun.  I shockingly have a lot of energy and my stupid Acting I focusing exercises are sort of kind of paying off.  Didn't expect that...

Speaking of Acting I, I volunteered for the first time last week.  What we had to do was have someone create an environment and then others would become the human props.  So I volunteered to be the person to create the environment so I started dancing.  Next thing I know, girl 1 is standing straight... like a pole.  *sigh* So, I grab up my giggle-pants and violate her.  Then girl 2 comes in, sticks her hands up and revolves... like a revolving pole.  So, yet again... Then guy 1 comes in and bends over... like a horizontal pole.  So here I am, switching between three people, dancing on them, and out comes Daniel, who thankfully, becomes a stereo (which was hilarious).  DV waited forever to call it to a stop.  Turns out girl 2 was a disco ball (what a helpful prop) and guy 1 was a swingy thing at the nightclubs...?  And after all that violation.

I also volunteered to read this part from the scenes we were beating, then he got me to read it again with all my beats, and then, he asked for a volunteer and all the girls had their hands up and he asked me to read it again as a single beat.  I felt like I was sort of kind of accomplishing something regarding my *cough* acting career.

Anywho, I'll see you all tonight, and out-sweat you, and dominate at dancing and life, because I'm just that great.  I leave you with a video of me dancing:

-Me

Robbie is Rap-tastic

You know how Graphic Novels are usually associated with dorks who dress up in leather and go to things like Dragon*Con? Well, I guess Disney is now shooting for that audience because look at their latest addition to the family.

"An All New Graphic Novel." You've went too far HSM. Way too far.
Adding too going to far, look at the new "required" book in the bookstore for a COLLEGE CLASS.

Let me say it again: REQUIRED. What? This is probably the worse example of good literature (writing style), ever, and it's REQUIRED. Not saying it's not a good story, but for College? Bah. But there were other vampire books so I only pray (oh please, oh please) that it's a class on Vampires and not the awesomeness of Twilight.
Now, lets talk about immaturity. This is me. In a shopping cart:

It was very painful and I had a headache afterwards. No one would know it but when clothes are on top of you (and Depends, Hannah Montana calenders, Oprah magazine, diapers, and shoes) it gets rather heavy. But no one realized I was in it the whole time we went around the store... except when I whispered and they looked startled at the basket. Luckily Alex and Brianna kept their cool until AFTER we left.

I sort of regret not jumping out at someone. :(
In other things, Kelly and I went to see Rabun Gap's Cirque. The movements were excellent (this one kid did a push up; sideways; on a pole; a vertical pole) and with all the jumping, standing on rubber balls, hoops, nets and the tiny Asian in a banana suit, I was amazed. But with everything, I am horribly critical, and even though their set was fantastic (or at least the city part; the forest was horrid) and their energy superb, their costumes had that terrible pulled-yet-inconsistent-style to it. Not enough jazz to them.

Whereas there movement was terrific, their acting sort of lacked (sort of, not terrible) at least the two leads were good. Some tall boy in a striped hat and Dylan Duvall played the magician or something. He was definitely the best (which is ironic because the best one learned under the leadership of Oh Mighty Tyrant) and was the only one w/o face make-up. Adding to that, none of those kids knew squat about doing face-makeup. It looked like a three year old had painted on for Halloween.

Afterwards, Kelly and I went back to the senior parking lot and played with her sisters camera: we screamed for it, we laughed for it, we goofed off for it, we got under her running car for it. It was magic. Everett showed up and we attempted to do pictures with me as the third wheel looking mortified at them, but they never turned out well.

We also went to Fatz before and got Everett as our waiter, who brought us Air Heads (blue raspberry) and paid for our meal. But it was all good because we left him a $20 tip.

Saturday was game night and Everett, Kelly and I dominated at Cranium. I lovingly got nominated to do all the acting bits which was great because they guessed them right off. Afterwards we went upstairs and watched The Soup. Or at least Kelly and I did because their was a mass clearing of everyone in the middle of it.
So, yesterday I had my advisor meeting about arranging classes for next semester and I get tons of theatre ones. I have one dance class that runs from 10:10-1:15 and then another movement class that is 2 hours long. So basically, I'm going to be a muscle with and perhaps a little bit more rhythm. Not much; but a little. Along with that I have the possibility of taking a make-up class and a lecture class with Terrence Mann that includes lots of movies. Only thing wrong with this is that my first class would be at 8 in the morning and my Terrence Mann class would end at 7, so essentially, if I go with this plan (hint: I don't think so) I get no sleep. Along with that Susan really wants me to become a design major vs. acting because I apparently have talent in the field. But just wait until she sees my debonair acting. Yeah. I wiggle my eyebrows at that.

Speaking of me and my rhythm and my debonair acting:
Seussical is essentially wearing me out. I scraped my knee yesterday, thus dubbing this play the next Footloose. But, regardless of all the sweat, all the soreness, all the orange juice, all the tiredness and droppyness, I would have it no other way. Everytime I feel my sore thigh I think about how much fun I'm having and I smile and hit it again for more reminecence.
I wish I could say I feel like I'm doing well, but this whole synchrony thing is killing me. Perhaps after an intense dance workout which would include various other things (such as popsickles and nailpolish) I may be able to do those C things with my legs. But, all the same, I can't help feeling like I'm way TOO big compaired to my fellows. For example:

(i.e. I'm the one in the striped shirt) Actually, I don't know what I was doing in this picture. Perhaps I look just slightly better now? Besides my inability to dance, I sing all the songs extreamly low which isn't a bad thing, but I just hope it's on key. Adding to all this, did you know it is next to impossible to get my shoulders to move? I try to shimmy and I end up looking like I'm having a shaking fit all over. I hardly know.
Oh, and I did not obtain a poster, so until I get one, Sevy's windows shall be blank. :( Adding to that, I have window markers in blue and white and guess what is being created on the back of Sev on March 1st? Just guess because, ooooh, it's going to be delicious. I wiggle my eyebrows at this as well.
Everything is just too much fun. :)

And now, I leave you with a gift from the gods. Robbie has created a little rap for us regarding a song from Seuss, and I daresay I was just fortuate enough to have the means to record it at the time. Enjoy because I surely do:



-Me

On a Tuesday, you can see forever...

This is a beautiful morning.  It reminds me of the simple pleasures of high school.  I remember running for milk in the morning, one in each hand for Scotty's cereal.  Everyone would watch and shake their heads or laugh.  It's now a general joke to get me to run.  The weather is super pleasant and the only thing missing is my old friends and Robbie's closet that I need to clean out.  Again.

My acting class is going relatively well.  My acting teacher told me he was disappointed because we got into character but didn't get in the character.  It's hard to explain but he wants us to literally become that person.  He also noted that some of us were way too cartoonish (which I think he means too much energy and too "big") and to that I guffaw for we all know that "do it big" is the motto of life (not to mention it makes more sense.)  I'm not sure what's going on... but I like our way better.

He also has told me that I was too perky.  Hm...

And we did this game.  What you had to do was lay down on the ground and relax while your partner felt all over you helping you with "tension."  I know I was supposed to relax but it's awful hard to when you are trying your hardest to look serious.  I daresay I felt a little violated.

Before class though, I dropped by Uncle Scotty's and watched some skits.  I happened to record this one of dearest Jonathan:

I just adore the ending.  Then I was off to Acting to be violated then I came back to see Scotty again.  I walked into his third period and I saw Jennifer who actually bear gripped me, and I commented that black made her look slim but threw in some fat jokes all the same.  She informed me that she had lost weight and to that I received a "well Rachel found it."  Jerk.  Then Ric hit me with his marble track pole and in the corner I saw him give Everett a high five. 

I then sewed some buttons on Nikki's costume and ate about fifty chocolate squares.  Alex decided she would rather put thread on a shirt than art so she showed up and we all talked a lot.  Everett stole my glasses and made good use of them:

Which was so phenomenally adorable that a picture was taken.  I then finished and school was out.  Lori (Kelly's sister) came in waiting for Kelly who then showed up and this is where the fun begins.  Kelly drew me an amazing picture of me as a star killing people (their were carcasses surrounding me) and Everett wrote me a charming poem that ends in "if you would lose 50 pounds then you wouldn't be so round."  We all decided to go waste time together so we got in Sev and went.  But first we had to drop of Lori at the health department.

So I wasn't quite sure where to go so they were directing me and they told me to turn and I accidently went in the wrong lane.  So I just go over the median and drive on until Kelly and Everett notice that there is a cop behind me (no blue lights mind you.)  So I keep driving and park at the health dept. and Lori gets out and we sit there and next thing I know I have this lady cop at my window.  She tells me that I need to pay more attention to the road and less to my friends.  Not only that but she says it super cocky and the ironic thing is that my friends were paying attention to the road as well and helping me with it.  Kelly said I was pitiful and to make me feel better she sat up front with me and we left Everett in the back where he belonged.  We then went to Wal*Mart and bikes were rode in the aisle and a hula hoop tournament went on.  And we looked at an Obama book.  Blegh.

I was hungry so we went to Dairy Queen where Everett and I bashed every one of Kelly's lovely beliefs (bible style) and it was sort of like a dog chasing its tail.  We then left, and Everett taught me how to use my cruise button (because I suck at driving apparently) and we went to the play ground where we climbed up the slide and then went down it, see sawed, spider swung, (not very successfully.  Poor Kelly.)  and did lots more.  It was great fun.

Onto rehearsal which was fun (the best part is to watch us bird girls scamper across backstage at mach speed.)  This part is one of the most fun parts ever.  I love to dance but not only do I get to dance I get to be a diva as well.  We discussed getting matching underwear with "Bird Girl" on the butt and we then had some lovely conversations about everything.  I believe this is going to be an amazing play.  Robbie had some footage of the whole thing and I told him he should make a whole video of it and hand it out to us all.  It would be amazing.

Oh and Chris showed up and we all had great fun talking about Western and old plays we all did together.  Kelly and Chris talked about their wonderful moments while dancing and it was hilarious.  Brianna and I then talked about life and it was deep.  Fun, fun, fun.  :)

And this Friday I have a birthday party to look forward to.  Someone turned extremely old and someone else is youthful so good day to them.  Pizza and movie is my style.  :)

-Me

Oooooo. You didn't...

Oooh, it's on.

Think of Rachel, Think of Rachel, Think of Rachel, Think of Rachel

I believe that Tuesdays and Thursdays are going to be the days magic is made. I don't have to get dressed up in stiff pants, I only have Acting that day (which is fun), then I get to play at the FAC with buttons and, well mostly buttons, and then I have play practice. This is what magic is made of.

We had practice last night, and, WHOA, what a bunch of people. So very many. It's hard to maneuver around them, but alas, we all shall manage. The dance vaguely remind me of You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown with the sort of marches and the bobbing up and down (I miss you Jessup. :( Come back and make me keep time.), and the whole on the knee, hands out thing. I remember also doing the invisible lasso in Seuss on the Loose and I love it all. I had a fabulous time last night. I love dancing and the dance is extremely fun... even if everywhere you walk someone smells. I'm gonna say it now: Water and soap should be apart of your family. And deodorant should be your best friend. And if the latter is not? Then the dermatologist who gives you medicine for the issue should be your best friend, hence why I love Dr. Singleton.

Speaking of water: ours is frozen. I had to take a bath up at Aunt Carolyn's today and it was... annoying. Aunt Carolyn's tub was very nice though, and it takes a lot for me to like someone else's bath tub. You know how most people hate sleeping in a bed besides their own? Well, I hate taking a bath in someone else's tub. Even though, compared to the cast iron thing I have to use, anything is nice I suppose. Cast iron isn't comfortable in the least, but I do suppose it exfoliates. I got permeant marker on it the other day because I had drawn Harry Potter characters on my toes and they rubbed off on the tub. Luckily mom hasn't noticed these blue streaks. Oh Harry, how could you?

Speaking of Harry:
NOOOOOOO!

Daniel, keep your naked trap shut. The only possible significance you serve to the Harry Potter series is playing Harry Potter, and THAT IS ALL THE BLESSING YOU HAVE. Shut up, Mr. "I dun wanna be known as Harry Potter." As someone who is now some big nuddy star on Broadway you should be ecstatic on the possibility of a MUSICAL. A HARRY POTTER MUSICAL. You're just afraid they will pick you to play the part and once you want to break apart from the HP image, you are labeling the thought as a big no-no. I hate you.

Lord of the Rings can make a sucky musical, why can't Harry Potter? Besides, I was really looking forward to a soul-spliting dance montage fearturing Voldemort belting about Horcurxes in a force that makes you get goose bumps and sounds sort of like "I Need To Know" from Jekyll and Hyde. [Hm, I wish I had that CD, hm...]

Except even creepier. Mahh.

-creepyvoldemortme

Oh yeah, I was supposed to be reading my Psychology...

Ahhh, my first Acting class

woeirlewj, it was oddly, and most unexpectedly, amazing.  Guess that's what happens when you trust God to make it okay for you.  I was expecting to be surrounded by kids who floored me.  First off, only 10 in the class.  Secondly, the rough majority are technical.  Thirdly, I have more experience than any of them, and I am the only one who is part of a big important theatre troupe:  A little something called Overlook Theatre Company.  Besides, our stage kicks FPAC's any day.

To that, I mean the new one.  SMACPAC, not FAC.  

So, needless to say, I am super excited.  And Respect for Acting is optional reading (thankfully.) Even though I had Taylor's reassurance that it was a very helpful book:

Rachel snorts at her book "respect for acting."5:05pm - 3 Comments

 Taylor Bryson at 5:59pm January 8

that is a really good book

 Rachel Alford at 4:32pm January 9

Really? It's assigned, and I thought it would be a piece of "Acting. Is an Art." kind of crap, but you just gave me some hope.

 Taylor Bryson at 6:08pm January 9

no its a very useful book. alot of acting books are dont look at them as something that will be broing or typical..it really helped me get a grasp on my acting

But now that it is no longer mandatory, I still may pass.  Besides, I already have a method down.  It's called:  Get on stage and have a blast.  And sweat.  Lots of sweat.

Anyhoo, in classypoo we got in a circle and talked about ourselves, and I have to keep an Acting Journal and document the... discoveries in my acting each day.  I believe I am really going to like my teacher (of course, after what I am used to Voldemort would seem like a nice teacher) and he seems to know what he is doing.  Although I have my method doesn't mean I won't listen and try someone else's.  I'm glad I have it with a few people I know and we did all sorts of bonding activities today.  Our teacher said the best way to work is as a unit, and aye aye, I agree.  I mean, look at us.  We all do the plays and we also all go eat pizza and watch movies and don't play tricks on anyone and have bloggers and EVERYTHING.  Bonding.

Speaking of us, I went and visited the play site today.  Lots of fun fabric, fun with Scotty and Everett, fun anonymously sending Sam messages of this picture of Everett...

...fun sitting there doing nothing while everyone did something, fat jokes steered in my direction, seeing Paul F, eating clementines and everything else in sight, and I got to see what my jacket will look like:

And I want the blue beehive wig.  FYI.

Oh and I sent Troy a picture of his fabric because he pestered me all yesterday asking me if I had seen Scotty and his reply was simply:

Lol sweet

Nothing says "Thank you" like that.  I guess it's because he can't see the keys enough to txt out a decent response.

...I say that with love.

And get this... guess who wants to play the female werewolf in New Moon, which is the sequel to Twilight.

But I do like her jacket.  A lot.  Anyhoodle, I despise her in the HSM franchise (her, her character, her singing, everything) and for her to taint the presence of my favourite whack vampire obsession love series? 

NO.

-me

Pee.Ess.  REHEARSALS IN LIKE TWO HOURS AHH.