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The rest of the day was indeed better (for me; other people had drama). Bat Boy rehearsal: !
I am a fifteen-year-old with a hick boyfriend. And we interact. Onstage. And then we rap. Drew, the guy who plays Shelley's boyfriend Rick, occupies the most unassuming middle ground between shy and aloof; he doesn't really speak much, softly when he does, and is quite acquiescent to reasonable direction. When we went through the song (Whatcha Wanna Do Tonight?) in the music room, it was a wigout. Once Drew figured out the words and the rhythm, Sean and I were both amazed. Drew can scream on a level with Tyler, Plant and Bono at their best. I mean, kick the dirt, guys, he was really good at it. And then I got to freak out at him onstage in the manner of a 15-year-old, and then I got to cry. This is so much fun. And it's going to be good. Or, at least, better than anything I've been in lately. I'm so happy there's another one tomorrow. And the day after. And for the next month. And then are the actual shows! And then probably a cast party! Ee. No emoticon.
After the rehearsal I'd planned to crash in Dan's room till work, but Stephan's message sounded pretty dire. Mark the calendar; he fought with Ben. I gave him perspective and tea. It seemed to work. We went back to his house and nothing exploded; we listened to music in his room. And then he brought me back here. Carl, the amiable blond senior copyeditor, called, and from now on my shift is going to start at 11pm instead of 1am; that should make life easier since I have more than one class on Thursdays this semester.
In any case, I am sleepy now. Maybe I will sleep till the next article comes in.
I am a fifteen-year-old with a hick boyfriend. And we interact. Onstage. And then we rap. Drew, the guy who plays Shelley's boyfriend Rick, occupies the most unassuming middle ground between shy and aloof; he doesn't really speak much, softly when he does, and is quite acquiescent to reasonable direction. When we went through the song (Whatcha Wanna Do Tonight?) in the music room, it was a wigout. Once Drew figured out the words and the rhythm, Sean and I were both amazed. Drew can scream on a level with Tyler, Plant and Bono at their best. I mean, kick the dirt, guys, he was really good at it. And then I got to freak out at him onstage in the manner of a 15-year-old, and then I got to cry. This is so much fun. And it's going to be good. Or, at least, better than anything I've been in lately. I'm so happy there's another one tomorrow. And the day after. And for the next month. And then are the actual shows! And then probably a cast party! Ee. No emoticon.
After the rehearsal I'd planned to crash in Dan's room till work, but Stephan's message sounded pretty dire. Mark the calendar; he fought with Ben. I gave him perspective and tea. It seemed to work. We went back to his house and nothing exploded; we listened to music in his room. And then he brought me back here. Carl, the amiable blond senior copyeditor, called, and from now on my shift is going to start at 11pm instead of 1am; that should make life easier since I have more than one class on Thursdays this semester.
In any case, I am sleepy now. Maybe I will sleep till the next article comes in.
