the beginning of the opening (that desperately wanted to be the end of the closing)

tomorrow. . . no, first, today.

today is friday. my fridays are busy days. class from 9-1, work from 1-6, rehearsal from 7-11. every friday. but today is different. . . barely. rehearsal doesn't start until 8. because it's a tech. and also the last hours in the lives of many in our cast.

tomorrow: Doomsday.

10 out of 12

let me explain. sit down if you're faint of heart.

tonight we'll get done at 11:00pm. as we should. at 11:00pm. as it is written in the Theatre Department's Manuel of Rehearsal Procedures whilst in use of the Krannert Center for the Performing Arts. at 11:00pm.

(a note about Krannert: KCPA is a machine above all machines. she runs like a swiss watch. precision to the second. rehearsals have been cut-off mid-sentence due to the tolling of the hour. 11:00 means 11:00. not 11:07. not 11:02. eleven. o. clock.)

so. tonight we'll be done at 11:00. . . but maybe not because our nutcase of a diva director woman thinks she can give us notes until ten after because she's queen of henry-land when really no one likes her because her 'notes' only consist of her scolding us for pointless things and talking about how we all need to get healthy (see note: half the cast is sick. maybe it's because, even if we finish a run at 10, you keep yammering at us until 11:08 and we don't get enough sleep because, surprise surprise, we're dealing with this thing called school for which we have more to do than just your precious little show here.).

so. tonight i'm sure we'll be done right at 11. especially since it's our first tech. it'll go smoothly, without a doubt. smooth.

and then. tomorrow. 10 out of 12. that's hours. 10 out of 12 hours.

begin: 10:00am
dinner: 3-5:00pm
end: 10:00pm

from 10 to 10 minus 2.

i can't help but imagine what a 10 out of 12 would have been like for Gint last fall. 10 hours with Alec Wild. 10 hours of laughing, loving, joking, screwing Jon Hill on a crate, Caroline spreading her ancient and creaking ol' legs, DeAnne dying, Corey being brilliant, Adam and myself making obscene gestures with an imaginary plunger. . . for 10 straight hours.


this one. will be different.

this one-as my darling Alec would inevitably say-will be ass.

mmmmmm...

he's just so good.

it's like thanksgiving...without the pie

my plate is just so full right now.
not that i'm not completely enjoying myself almost all the time, because i definitely am . . . but there's just. so. much.

this being my last semester, i really wanted to take advantage of everything that is possible on this campus. and in this department. so i'm taking classes. lots of classes. and independent studies. and, per usual, rehearsals. some days are from 9am-1pm, others from 8am-3pm. then rehearsals from 7-11 or somewhere within. so i'm packed. to the brim. with occasional spillage.

there was a major overflow last thursday-saturday, when my body decided to say "No More, thank you very much. I've had enough," with much enthusiasm. you see, many of these classes that i'm enrolled in are incredibly taxing on one's body . . . especially after just coming back from a month of essentially sitting on one's backside, or road-tripping to memphis, or watching movies.

i'm in this Yoga for Dancers class that meets at 8am tuesday-thursday. i mean, it's for dance majors. so they're good at it. and know what they're doing. i, on the other hand, while quite flexible, have little to zero strength in these gangles of mine. therefore, i end up being in pain during most of the 45 minutes. or at least i can count on the anguish to appear for the next fews days.

but. it's good pain.
. . . right?

then i have fight class, which consists of rolling around on the ground for 30 minutes and then pretending to punch, slap, kick or choke my classmates for the next 30.

and finally, and most likely my favorite, clown class. yes, that's right. Clown. Class. we're learning how to flip each other, do handstands, juggle, and fly through the air. one of our finals will be to juggle while reciting an entire monologue.
this is my school. this is what i'm doing with my life.
i love everything about it.

besides those blissful moments of my day, i have a voice-over class, and independent dialect seminar study thing, and acting for the camera.

and i'm in love. which puts sugar all over everything.

now, i'm going to take out these contacts, put in a load of his&hers laundry, and learn Scottish by watching Trainspotting.