Hello, I Dislike You Intensely. Have a Nice Day.
Entries #81 and #82.
The first performance of Avocadoes in the Garden of Eden, or, How e.e. cummings Ruined My Life is tonight!
Woah, what?
YES. TONIGHT.
AAAAAAAAAAAA.
Of the eight of us, six of us haven’t perfectly memorized our scripts, four of us have nervous bladders, three of us are injured in mildly worrisome ways, two of us have colds, and one of us is terrified of throwing up onstage. (Hint: it’s not me.) (Hint Hint: I lied.)
Thinking about it rationally, as I mentioned a while ago, the musical never had any implications of being a big event. It’ll probably end up being a pathetic sort of thing where only the families and a few friends come, a phenomenon previously restricted just to things like science fairs or curling matches. (Not that we have a curling team. I just couldn’t pass up an opportunity to make fun of the sport.) Plus, my choir in middle school did concerts, and those went fine. There’s no major reason that anything should go horribly wrong.
Just tell that to every one of my internal organs.
--
We were fucking smashing.
BITCH YES.
I’m so happy.
True, Victor (who was playing Narrow Fellow) did accidentally have his false beard fall off at one point. But he worked it into the script hilariously. And May did start hiccupping during an important scene in the Real World (Gasp!), but she did this brilliant thing where she made them really quiet and took still-meaningful pauses in her lines when she hiccupped. A few tiny speaking flubs (half of them mine, probably) but nothing huge. We harmonized like never before, we jived (jove?) like madmen, we screamed and cried and went crazy onstage (except in a purposeful and meaningful way), we made every line mean everything. It was orgiastic and amazing. And the turnout was even better than we hoped – there were people in the audience that we actually didn’t know. Alex came. And so did my mom, Marina, and Delia.
All the musical people had an afterparty, and we were still on our insane musical-theatre-induced high so it got pleasantly insane in there. We swordfought with the plastic swords from the battle scene, everyone pasted on fake beards and eyebrows, and we mixed together all the punch and soda and tried playing beerpong with it. I know that makes us sound like idiots. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything. The truth is, if not for the craziness of the party, I would’ve cried. Because I realized that we shared something strong enough to bring a person back from the edge of hell.
Woah, what?
YES. TONIGHT.
AAAAAAAAAAAA.
Of the eight of us, six of us haven’t perfectly memorized our scripts, four of us have nervous bladders, three of us are injured in mildly worrisome ways, two of us have colds, and one of us is terrified of throwing up onstage. (Hint: it’s not me.) (Hint Hint: I lied.)
Thinking about it rationally, as I mentioned a while ago, the musical never had any implications of being a big event. It’ll probably end up being a pathetic sort of thing where only the families and a few friends come, a phenomenon previously restricted just to things like science fairs or curling matches. (Not that we have a curling team. I just couldn’t pass up an opportunity to make fun of the sport.) Plus, my choir in middle school did concerts, and those went fine. There’s no major reason that anything should go horribly wrong.
Just tell that to every one of my internal organs.
--
We were fucking smashing.
BITCH YES.
I’m so happy.
True, Victor (who was playing Narrow Fellow) did accidentally have his false beard fall off at one point. But he worked it into the script hilariously. And May did start hiccupping during an important scene in the Real World (Gasp!), but she did this brilliant thing where she made them really quiet and took still-meaningful pauses in her lines when she hiccupped. A few tiny speaking flubs (half of them mine, probably) but nothing huge. We harmonized like never before, we jived (jove?) like madmen, we screamed and cried and went crazy onstage (except in a purposeful and meaningful way), we made every line mean everything. It was orgiastic and amazing. And the turnout was even better than we hoped – there were people in the audience that we actually didn’t know. Alex came. And so did my mom, Marina, and Delia.
All the musical people had an afterparty, and we were still on our insane musical-theatre-induced high so it got pleasantly insane in there. We swordfought with the plastic swords from the battle scene, everyone pasted on fake beards and eyebrows, and we mixed together all the punch and soda and tried playing beerpong with it. I know that makes us sound like idiots. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything. The truth is, if not for the craziness of the party, I would’ve cried. Because I realized that we shared something strong enough to bring a person back from the edge of hell.
♠ ♠ ♠
Hopefully this was short and sweet for you. Maybe it was short and bitter. I wouldn't know. But at least, if it was bitter, it would still have been short.One more chapter! AAAAAA.