Meh, I wish I knew Sannali in real life. I could lend her my copy of “Guards! Guards!”. Well, actually, I couldn’t, because it’s currently in the posession of my friend Mackenzie, who has been “reading” it for the past month. I hope Chungy has made progress in “Jingo”; I want to reread parts. ::blinks and nods:: I wonder where my copy of “The Color of Magic” could be. I need to introduce Chungy to Rincewind.
Referring to religious exclamations on RML:
Renata: My personal favorite is “Jesus Buddha Allah Confusius Zeus!” It’s a bit wordy, but if you say it fast it kind of rhymes. Good times.
Liz: Ooooh. I like that. Everything covered. Recently, I’ve been hearing “Jesus Christ on a Cracker!” Which makes me think you could go to the store and buy, I don’t know, Jeez-Whiz. Or Jeez-Its.
Referring to my feet:
My dad: It seems that you no longer have any tickle cells.
Me: I must have tickle cell anemia.
Referring to Colgate college:
Me: I prefer the toothpaste, thanks.
My dad: I don’t know; if you go to school in New York, you probably wouldn’t get as many cavities. [note: I’ve never gotten a cavity in my life, thank you]
Me: I could probably make a joke about large cavities in New York, but it would be in really bad taste.
Want to know what I hate? I hate it when you’re trying to drink water and the ice shifts suddenly and you get water all over your face and clothes. And I hate it when you’re in a blue funk and you can’t find any music that quite works for your mood. Or when people jump to conclusions and assume that a fellow cast member is your boyfriend, just because he decides to sit by you every day because you enjoy each other’s company. Or when your parents try to plan your weekend for you, scheduling academically-related (and boring as hell) activities instead of letting you get a little downtime. Or when you have to open letter after letter of stupid college mail despite a growing irrational paranoia about Anthrax. Or when your friends put hours of blood and sweat into the notebook for JETS, yet make no mention whatsoever to the website that you spent dozens of hours working on as to complete it in time in order to be mentioned in the notebook, but you can’t get mad at them because they put so much work into it. Or when one of your best friends, who is in college, comes into town for a weekend, and you make big plans with all your friends to hang out together after you come back from seeing a musical with your family, only to find out when you get back that they decided to get together early and ditched you, going to the movies and lunch and the rest of JETS’ “Demo Day” and having the best of times, without even a second thought in your direction.
Or when a combination of things that make you really annoyed all happen together and you start crying in front of your parents, and you can’t stop. And you try to get some downtime in your room to draw or CG or mull things over, but your parents keep coming in and trying lamely to cheer you up, never leaving you alone. Yeah, I hate it when that happens.
Someone please listen to “Come What May” from Moulin Rouge, then “Not Me” and “Written in the Stars” from Aida and tell me I’m imagining it.
Ooh! I must have neglected to mention! Yes, I *did* get around to updating the sketchblog yesterday. My run has not yet broken!
How disappointing. I’m human as well.
#2 Betazoid; # 3 Vulcan
Highly amusing experience:
After rehearsal, Chungy took me to Hockaday to get back to work on JETS. However, she informed me that Mr. Lohstreter had left, as he wanted to appear at Homecoming. (meh). We went to the boarding department to send a bunch of files to Cherise and Margaret, who were at Margaret’s house, printing and finalizing the binder, which is due tomorrow. (flail!). Because they told us that we weren’t needed to help, we decided to just hang out in the boarding department and watch “The 3 Musketeers”. We kept a MST3K-like running commentary throughout most of the movie, including my comments regarding the choreography and musical styles for all the musical numbers we planned to add. References to Princess Bride, Discworld, and Ladyhawke aplenty. I remember suggesting that D’Artagnian (excuse the butchering of his name) could look like a young Gilderoy Lockhart. Joining us were Eunice, Iana, and two boarders I hadn’t met before.
Afterward, it was time for Priscellie to go home, chaufeurred by Chungy. For the quickest route back to my house, we took the tollroad. It wasn’t until we were exiting that it occurred to us that we didn’t have change. I grabbed a bill from my wallet and Chungy attempted to reach the change machine. In vain. She put the car in park and leaned all the way out the window. Didn’t work. She eventually had to open the door slightly to put the bill in the machine. Of course, like all change machines, this specific machine didn’t like my dollar, even though it was happy and crisp and dollarlike. It spit the bill out. Chungy tried three more times with the same result. I gave her a new dollar, which also failed. By this time, cars were starting to honk. We were both flailing, afraid that we were going to have to do something illegal to get through, as there was no attendant. Suddenly, it occurred to me to check the pockets of my wallet for any change, despite the fact that I never keep change in my wallet. As the bill finally accepted the dollar, I felt the reassuring clink of coins in my wallet — exactly the necessary 60 cents.
Chungy and I started laughing. Uproariously. So hard we couldn’t stop. As we cruised through the streets of residential Dallas, we laughed all the way. This was classic, we decided. This was material to be posted in “The Spinster Diaries“, our joint weblog that we’re starting this week (we haven’t spruced it up yet. It’s still boring at the moment). We wished we had a camera or a video recorder or even a Nancy with us. This was one of those golden Priscilla and Chungy moments that remain amusing no matter how old the story gets, like the time Chungy and I ran through Jesuit and actually got whistled at. Or when we surprised Nancy on her birthday by embarrassing her in front of half the Upper School classes from Hockaday, Cistercian, and St. Marks. Or when we came out of A.I. sobbing like babies, much to the amusement of the other JETS. One thing I know for sure — we have to go to the same college. I don’t know if I’d survive without my best friend!
And the lot’s all here! ::dances:: Just a matter of some random images, which will be up momentarily. ::grooves::
Quotes… WIAN… ::is overjoyed::
The sketchblog is back. So are the log archives. ::squeals with glee::