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Well, that went about as I expected it to. Lots of people in good costumes, lots of people in bad costumes, a few people in no costumes, and a hectic backstage serving-organization, after selling about five things at my own little half of a booth in the Alessandro Recital Hall (renamed Pub & Emporium for this event). After all the people had one serving of each course, we servants could eat the extras (I ate the meat out of two and gave the rest to charity). Rather good they were, too. The shows, however, were slightly slow. The theater presentation was written by its performers, and you could tell. It was pointless. Funny, but pointless. The baroque dance was a letdown after the guys' opening dance in the procession. The girls did what they did quite well, but it was all the same. And their choreography was done by the head of the dance department! This is who is in charge. Mghrr.
The dang skirt was too tight, once it slipped down to where it wasn't too short (slight ankle-show). I'll wear something else tomorrow. Are Ally and Nia coming? I hope so. I need some company at my businessless half-booth. Plus, I just take any possible opportunity to see them. Incidentally, there's a Saturday-night food party at my house after the show, a sleepover thing which the food-loving denizens of Chamber Singers class suggested. I'll mowl out an invite to my werefriends for that, too. Fooood! Meat, maybe. Yeah. Yumslirpgrrrunch. Speaking of which, the alternate lyrics which Rachel invented to Carol of the Bells (Carol of the Empty Belly) were quite amusing. They won a contest in the Chronicle, too.
So. Ally. Nia. I'm begging you. You can't see me, but I'm on my aching knees (stood around singing a lot tonight, too; chamber singers duty). Don't leave me alooone! (A cry in the night, of anguish heart-striking.... ok, I'll stop). Mama's not coming tomorrow, because... because. I dunno. But cooome! I discard my proud facade and grovel at thy merciful feet in heartfelt pleading.
The dang skirt was too tight, once it slipped down to where it wasn't too short (slight ankle-show). I'll wear something else tomorrow. Are Ally and Nia coming? I hope so. I need some company at my businessless half-booth. Plus, I just take any possible opportunity to see them. Incidentally, there's a Saturday-night food party at my house after the show, a sleepover thing which the food-loving denizens of Chamber Singers class suggested. I'll mowl out an invite to my werefriends for that, too. Fooood! Meat, maybe. Yeah. Yumslirpgrrrunch. Speaking of which, the alternate lyrics which Rachel invented to Carol of the Bells (Carol of the Empty Belly) were quite amusing. They won a contest in the Chronicle, too.
So. Ally. Nia. I'm begging you. You can't see me, but I'm on my aching knees (stood around singing a lot tonight, too; chamber singers duty). Don't leave me alooone! (A cry in the night, of anguish heart-striking.... ok, I'll stop). Mama's not coming tomorrow, because... because. I dunno. But cooome! I discard my proud facade and grovel at thy merciful feet in heartfelt pleading.