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tabular_rasaSo, the play's over.
Now sets in the post-production depression.
Man, it's worse this time, because this was really a very fun production. Also, it's my last one. I wrote my name on the wall-- because we're allowed to, as seniors. It's faint, in gold paint, and in cursive, and it only fits "Amy T" and it's half covering some other guy's name anyway. I guess I am forever to be known as "Amy T," lol . . .
I think smashing down the set for two hours didn't help. Some people were lazy about it, but, eh, I got some chips out of the bargain-- until those were taken by the lazy people . . . lol . . .
Then we went out to Steak 'n' Shake at about midnight. I drove Amanda, Brock, and John, and we waited for Kristina and Nichole FOREVER, because apparently they had to get money, drop off Ashley AND Sarah, when it turned out she couldn't accompany us, and so then we basically ordered food and left. Kylie, Rob, and Lauren were there for a little while, but they sat at a booth a little ways away (sort of like their scene, lol . . . ), and most other people either left before we got there, made a short stop in, or didn't come . . . ahh well . . .
God, I just can't believe it's my last show. Too bad I can't do the children's play. There's Shakescenes, which are really fun, but aren't quite the same thing. I know this sounds really selfish, but I really hope not EVERYONE comes out for that . . . I really want a nice part.
Then again, maybe I'll even be gone. My family wants me to do the counselor thing at Mori no Ike, and I kind of want to, too-- I mean, I liked Mori no Ike, I like Japanese, it'll give me good skills, and it's a job-- paid. Plus Michael will be there, at least hopefully, if I time it right. Yet it's my last summer home, and there's so much I want to do this summer, like see people for the last time, and write more to my book. Plus the job really doesn't pay that well-- I only would get like $140 or something silly, it said . . . which hardly even covers my plane fare. Maybe I was looking at the wrong thing, but still . . . and it IS about the skills and the experience, and it's probably justified by the fact that the counselor's are almost like they're at camp again, too . . . but, aggh, I just don't know if I want to do it or not. I'm a sentimental baby who really doesn't want to leave home.
Plus I don't even know how to apply, or whether I should be a junior counselor or a regular counselor. That SAT II score was a real blow my confidence as a Japanese-speaker, and I only went to the camp one year; it's not like I know the ins and outs of it by heart, anyway, or anything . . .
Maybe I'll drop a line to Michael via email and see if he checks it . . . and ask him how to do this thing. Yet the chances of him being on in time for the deadline are pretty darn slim, considering . . .
I don't think it helps that I'm SO FREAKING TIRED this morning, seeing as how I got home at 2:00 in the morning, and slept really badly until the light came in through my windows . . . and then finally "woke up" at 10:30. Dad came in just before then, which he hasn't done in years, because it's such a mess, and just wanted to tell me "how wonderful I am," which would have made me cry (which it does now) if I hadn't been so numb and tired and caked with the remnants of stage makeup and cementing hairspray. He was all like, "I just realized that you're not going to be here for much longer-- it just kicked in. I've been prepared for it mentally but not emotionally." He thinks I should go do the counselorship . . . but, then, I think he's going to miss. Also, he's looking at speedboats, because our speedboat is as old as me, and we've had it the entire time we've owned the lake cottage (it was used)-- and apparently Mom's told him all along we'd get a new one once I started bringing home "big boyfriends" that we'd have to tow behind the ski boat. Well, that never really happened . . . so I guess I'm just a disappointment, lol . . .
I feel really sick. My nose was really runny and I actually blew it in my handkerchief a couple times last night. It was after Brock did his thing with it (which got less of a laugh than last night-- but, then again, last night did not go as well, and all the laughs were lesser-- though the audience was bigger-- except in the cases for Rob and Dan, which were twice as loud since all their friends were in the audience), so he doesn't need to worry about it. I think it was because I hadn't dried my hair before I went to bed last night, and it was wet, but there is an awful lot of flu going around. Great, just in time for finals week . . .
Speaking of missing things, I'm going to miss my classes this trimester. I really did like Creative Writing, and Economics, however much it sucks, was rather fun, in a way. We were all slackers together. This is actually the first time I'm NOT looking forward to 3rd trimester, at least not particularly. I mean, AP English is going to be nothing special anymore, since they divided us all up, which, if you ask me, was an utterly assanine idea. This is the LAST TIME we're all going to be together. Bastards. I'm not going to know anyone in Psychology or Sociology, and they're going to be 10th graders or something silly, like in World History. Gaa . . .
Tiffany, I think you scared Rob when you talked to him so much the night you came. I think you said more to him in that entire five minutes than I've said to him in my life, lol . . .
Now sets in the post-production depression.
Man, it's worse this time, because this was really a very fun production. Also, it's my last one. I wrote my name on the wall-- because we're allowed to, as seniors. It's faint, in gold paint, and in cursive, and it only fits "Amy T" and it's half covering some other guy's name anyway. I guess I am forever to be known as "Amy T," lol . . .
I think smashing down the set for two hours didn't help. Some people were lazy about it, but, eh, I got some chips out of the bargain-- until those were taken by the lazy people . . . lol . . .
Then we went out to Steak 'n' Shake at about midnight. I drove Amanda, Brock, and John, and we waited for Kristina and Nichole FOREVER, because apparently they had to get money, drop off Ashley AND Sarah, when it turned out she couldn't accompany us, and so then we basically ordered food and left. Kylie, Rob, and Lauren were there for a little while, but they sat at a booth a little ways away (sort of like their scene, lol . . . ), and most other people either left before we got there, made a short stop in, or didn't come . . . ahh well . . .
God, I just can't believe it's my last show. Too bad I can't do the children's play. There's Shakescenes, which are really fun, but aren't quite the same thing. I know this sounds really selfish, but I really hope not EVERYONE comes out for that . . . I really want a nice part.
Then again, maybe I'll even be gone. My family wants me to do the counselor thing at Mori no Ike, and I kind of want to, too-- I mean, I liked Mori no Ike, I like Japanese, it'll give me good skills, and it's a job-- paid. Plus Michael will be there, at least hopefully, if I time it right. Yet it's my last summer home, and there's so much I want to do this summer, like see people for the last time, and write more to my book. Plus the job really doesn't pay that well-- I only would get like $140 or something silly, it said . . . which hardly even covers my plane fare. Maybe I was looking at the wrong thing, but still . . . and it IS about the skills and the experience, and it's probably justified by the fact that the counselor's are almost like they're at camp again, too . . . but, aggh, I just don't know if I want to do it or not. I'm a sentimental baby who really doesn't want to leave home.
Plus I don't even know how to apply, or whether I should be a junior counselor or a regular counselor. That SAT II score was a real blow my confidence as a Japanese-speaker, and I only went to the camp one year; it's not like I know the ins and outs of it by heart, anyway, or anything . . .
Maybe I'll drop a line to Michael via email and see if he checks it . . . and ask him how to do this thing. Yet the chances of him being on in time for the deadline are pretty darn slim, considering . . .
I don't think it helps that I'm SO FREAKING TIRED this morning, seeing as how I got home at 2:00 in the morning, and slept really badly until the light came in through my windows . . . and then finally "woke up" at 10:30. Dad came in just before then, which he hasn't done in years, because it's such a mess, and just wanted to tell me "how wonderful I am," which would have made me cry (which it does now) if I hadn't been so numb and tired and caked with the remnants of stage makeup and cementing hairspray. He was all like, "I just realized that you're not going to be here for much longer-- it just kicked in. I've been prepared for it mentally but not emotionally." He thinks I should go do the counselorship . . . but, then, I think he's going to miss. Also, he's looking at speedboats, because our speedboat is as old as me, and we've had it the entire time we've owned the lake cottage (it was used)-- and apparently Mom's told him all along we'd get a new one once I started bringing home "big boyfriends" that we'd have to tow behind the ski boat. Well, that never really happened . . . so I guess I'm just a disappointment, lol . . .
I feel really sick. My nose was really runny and I actually blew it in my handkerchief a couple times last night. It was after Brock did his thing with it (which got less of a laugh than last night-- but, then again, last night did not go as well, and all the laughs were lesser-- though the audience was bigger-- except in the cases for Rob and Dan, which were twice as loud since all their friends were in the audience), so he doesn't need to worry about it. I think it was because I hadn't dried my hair before I went to bed last night, and it was wet, but there is an awful lot of flu going around. Great, just in time for finals week . . .
Speaking of missing things, I'm going to miss my classes this trimester. I really did like Creative Writing, and Economics, however much it sucks, was rather fun, in a way. We were all slackers together. This is actually the first time I'm NOT looking forward to 3rd trimester, at least not particularly. I mean, AP English is going to be nothing special anymore, since they divided us all up, which, if you ask me, was an utterly assanine idea. This is the LAST TIME we're all going to be together. Bastards. I'm not going to know anyone in Psychology or Sociology, and they're going to be 10th graders or something silly, like in World History. Gaa . . .
Tiffany, I think you scared Rob when you talked to him so much the night you came. I think you said more to him in that entire five minutes than I've said to him in my life, lol . . .
