Woo Hoo

Twelfth Night went. Not as awesome as Macbeth or as funny as it could have been, but the parents were all pleased, and most kids will be back next year. I'm really enjoying directing the plays. They aren't top notch or anything, but I've made a few moments I'm really proud of (such as the Cesario/Sir Andrew sword fight to Kill Bill music, and the sneaky-toes bush). As cheesy as it sounds, this summer job is changing me a lot. I have to be outgoing, in control and organized. I have to be loud (not that I'm not already, but now I'm loud with a minute amount of authority). There are moments where this job sucks (such as dealing with ODD, cleaning up the bathroom, and dealing with cadet puppet man), but mostly it rocks (I will be tie dying, playing dance tag, or creating a play and realizing that I get money from all this). I'm happy. Busy, stressed and tired, but happy.

I also am very excited. To go camping, to go back to school, to see what's happening in August. The summer has flown by. I'm ready to go back to TDEV, to be in a play, to go to Value Village, to write essays. I miss my apartment, my bed, my Montreal friends, Montreal, good theatre all over the place, even the smelly, scary metro.

My birthday is next week, and I am dreading it. I don't want to be nineteen. One year closer to twenty. I like right now just fine. But I will be in Bon Echo, with it's gorgeous rock and lake and stars and sky and huzzah.

Hoogersplotch

Me, today

I didn't have to deal with ODD or kids thinking I am Chris' mom,  "do you sleep with him?" and the dirty, dirty drama room. I just had to sit, all weekend. Then I would get hot. And swim. And get out. And sit. And walk to the Marina. I love the cottage, and it was chill. I also got enough sleep to last me awhile. We watched Antiques Roadshow with my grandma and ate a lot of bread products.

Now I am at home, going to bed early, as it is a "school night". If only I had some weekdays off like everyone else, I could be at a bonfire at Cal's, where I want to be.  It's okay, I suppose, I'm making decent money, doing what I want to do, all summer. Amanda and I made pasta (have you ever listened to pasta? Oh dear), Keast cake and laughed at nothing. I think my most pathetic moment of the weekend was sitting to watch the cake cool.

Thursday night is another show, Twelfth Night, not as good as Macbeth, but amusing, and tie dyed.

And next weekend... is next weekend. And that is good.

 

 

My most conceited moment...
 
So I'm sitting at the outcome performance of session one, my group of fourteen 7-13 year olds. They are doing Macbeth, after they performed a magnificent comedy/improv sketch. There is an audience of approximately 70 people.
 
And I begin to cry (for a second...). Because I did it. The reason those 70 audience members and 14 kids, and two helpers were there was because I didn't want to work at a toy store anymore. And I am so glad I did this.
 
It was good theatre too! It was top notch. I am so happy for me and for them and for their families who got to have a good night.
 
I got flowers and compliments and realized, once again, that I am not a bad person sometimes. And it feels good.
 
So take that, Macbeth!

Is it stupid, irresponsible or unfair to want something to come of this?

Recent memory

S (on impressing me): Tell her you like Chekhov.

Shopping

So I'm out blowing my tax return today (blowing is too strong a word... I needed two of the four items I bought...). I'm in Sam's, looking for more Mr. Jack Johnson, when this good looking guy in an army jacket with longish hair gives me this great big smile. I have one of those "shit, do I know him?" moments. He passes by me, I turn around and he's looking at me.

"You look like a wildflower" he says.

Pffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffft. Life is a funny time.

Camp

Day one. Fourteen kids. Holy shit.
Still managed to kick some theatre ass though, they're talented and cool.
But I'm exhausted.

In other news...

I'm touched. And confused.

Paul's 19th birthday

-Paul's very cool, nice family
-getting sent out for ice at the store where no one comes out to charge you for the ice while you giggle and talk in quite loud voices, but if you ring that little bell, blam, they're there.
-weakest surprise EVER.
-FOOD!
-Baby pictures, yearbooks
-Jesse and Ryan appearing
-sing-a-long, complete with dancing
-a TEETER TOTTER!
-"I hope I come back as a beer cap in my next life," -Paul's uncle on our all female game of throw the beer cap down someone else's shirt.
-"Can I touch your hair?"- to a boy with Tia hair
-my bra undoing everytime I moved ("I can undo a front bra clasp with my teeth!")
-no sexy dance by Jesse...
-no one smart bringing a tent.
-Scott being the nicest ever
-lots of good, good hugs
-Gropy McGropeson and Boobie McBooberson
-setting off the panic alarm while inside the Jeep at 2 am, and having the keys inside the house, with Paul's mom.
-not letting Stupid McStupidson (aka Boobie McBooberson) call me a bitch
-Gropy McGropeson shaking my hand every two minutes
-also, Gropy McGroperson putting on Garth Brooks...
-getting up to see Aric taking a walk
-swimming in the morning

Laughing a lot and having a wonderful, funny evening.