Month: February 2002

Though I usually feel like I hate them, there are times when I love writing journals for History class. I can write just about anything I want, and Mrs. Johnson loves them. This time, I included references to the Beatles, theonion.com, Puritan stupidity, Renata and the Lincoln Impersonator, and the Electoral runaround in Florida. I came close to quoting “The Matrix”, “How to Succeed…”, and “The Pajama Game”. Funfun. In past entries, I have referenced Discworld, Bin Laden, Dave Barry, and Electoral stupidity again. Muaha.

::sings:: Tomorrow’s Tomorrow! Day after tomorrow! I see Renata again! ::cheers wildly:: God bless you, college visits. ::pokes all Lincoln impersonators out of their hidey-holes and on to the street::

I love how Livejournal gives you those fabulous “Success! Your LiveJournal has been updated!” messages. I feel like I’ve truly achieved something. I could be crushing the jewelled thrones of ancient civilizations beneath my sandalled feet, or valliantly achieving victory over a formidably sinister foe, but I’m just updating my Daily Sketch. But what do I see before me? “Success!” What a morale booster! “Success!” Watch as the throng of overjoyed civilians, flags waving enthusiastically, cheer as one and part to make way for an elaborately ornate float, where I stand, blowing kisses to my adoring public. “Success!” Hear them chanting my name, over and over. “Success!” Listen to their romantic ballads of my heroic feats, music of the Gods performed by the greatest musicians in the land. “Success!” Taste the sweet smell of victory, like honeyed wine, dripping from a golden chalice. “Success!” See the endless rows of suitors clammoring for my attention, each more devilishly handsome and outstandingly witty than the last. “Success!” I have updated my LiveJournal! What have you done today?

Eek. After school today, I went to Eckerds, a drugstore, to pick up some stuff for my “secret pal” for V-Day. I was horrified to see that amid all the Valentinesy goodness, next to the boxes of candy, they were selling handcuffs. Mommy?

Happy Mardi Gras! I’ve decided to give up consciousness for Lent.

More bloody quizzes. This is all for you, Marcelina.

If I were a character in Moulin Rouge, I would be Christian.
What Moulin Rouge Character Would You Be?

What Pattern Are You?

Ah, I forgot to mention our antics before the show began! I arrived two hours early, despite the fact that I really only needed about 45 minutes to safely have time to get ready. Some blessed soul brought a laptop with a DVD player, so we all (a group of about 8 girls at the beginning) sat in the Green Room and watched Moulin Rouge. Good Percy, I adore that movie. After that, we watched Mulan. I counted about 10 Moulin/Mulan jokes from various cast members. I was amused.

Anyway, in case you haven’t found the link in another blog yet, the HPVP is up and running. Send a Harry Potter Valentines Day e-card here. Send one of my cards and I’ll give you a kiss. ::pokes Tanja:: Hurrah for all the artists who participated!

And another show is over and done with. Today was the last performance of “The Pajama Game”, the musical that seemed overly nauseating at first, then became a highly entertaining (yet still ridiculously cheesy) theatrical production. As is our wont, the cast and crew pulled quite a number of pranks today, ranging from a small disco ball in the elevator to an entire line of girls spanking Sid’s rear end as he walked down the line at the end of “I’m Not at All in Love”. The “Steam Heat” dancers were planning to go all-out Fosse-style and wear leotards and fishnets instead of their tuxedos, but they called the plan off at the last minute, deciding it was over the top. The most amusing-yet-subtle hack came at the finale/curtain call, when Prez and I switched pajamas. I hope I can get doubles from the people who took pictures of us afterwards. Absolute hilarity. “Comfort” became a girl in an incredibly comforable pair of thick flannel pajamas, and “style” became a man in purple silk. Nothing says “style” like a man in purple silk. Don’t you know it.

Anyway, I decided to wear my wig to the cast party afterwards. After all, I wouldn’t get a chance to wash my hair, and my hair is always nasty after it’s been under a wig for about 4 1/2 hours. Before, though, I had to take Mimi home. She made me come inside and show her parents my hair. For a while, Mr. Pasahow thought that it was my real hair. This was disturbing. He started complimenting me on my haircut, telling me how much he loved it, and how it was better than my old haircut. He felt incredibly embarassed when he saw that it wasn’t real. Hilarity ensued. Anyway, I arrived late at the cast party. When I arrived, everyone was watching the video of the production, recorded on Thursday. I was a bit irritated at my performance, as I was much more histrionic in later performances. Compared to Saturday and Sunday’s shows, the Thursday production seemed dead. Bah. Still fun, though. Some people at the party asked who had written the “Pajama Game Plot” thing. More compliments were dished out. About half the cast wants a copy. ::inflates ego with a bike pump:: Much amusement.

::pokes Livejournal sharply with a pointy-end stick::

For those curious as to how my wig looks, here’s one of my mom’s photos. My “Pajama Game Plot” describes this scene as “Union President, Random Employee, and Girl’s Faithful Sidekicks meet at Girl’s House.” Left to right, me (Mae), Olivia (Babe), Kingsley (Prez), Tiffany (Brenda), and Adam (Joe).

Tra la la. My dad has a rugby buddy who had his name legally changed to “Gandalf”.