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Tuesday, March 25, 2003 @ 3:16 PM
Oh, holy GOD! What the hell is happening to my week? I feel like I have this little schedule in my brain, like a table or chart or something that has hour-long blocks in the first column, and then big X's through all the corresponding rectangles of time during which I have commitments of some kind. And there isn't any space that isn't X'd out! I'm exaggerating, really, otherwise I wouldn't have time to read Penny Arcade and post on my journal, but I really do have to leave for Guerilla in fifteen minutes and I still have to put on socks.
Speaking of, the show went reasonably well last night, except for "Beth & the T's" which was a trainwreck (it's a skit with rapid-fire cues, it BEGS to be screwed up!), and a few problems with "Reading Between the Lines." Fortunately, "A Matter of Perspective" and "50/50" went really well. We got tons of laughs. Especially at the "BY THE WAY, no, I'm not into threesomes!" line, and when Jenny started strangling me with the phone cord. I would describe it as "quality."
After the Guerilla show, I had a group meeting for Com 110, and then I hung out with David Foster, Jessica Rubenacker, and Annie Creswell. We all drank (me considerably less than the rest of them) and watched the second half of season two of "Queer as Folk." We drank every time there was a reference to homosexuality. Verbal or nonverbal. That's a lot of references. Sidenote, David is an excellent bartender. I got to catch up on the gossip, which was fun and strange. I won't post anything here, because 90% of my reading audience probably couldn't care less, but ask me if that kind of thing interests you.
My moms bought me a Binghamton University shirt, and some postcards with pictures of the campus. I'm so grateful to them for supporting my decison, I know it can't be easy for them. I know I'm probably a dork for getting along with my mother, but seriously, she rules. She told me when she was my age, she desperately wanted to go to college in Boston, but her parents couldn't afford to send her. And then we made smart ass remarks, like, "this is how children get spoiled" and laughed.
There's so much more I need to say, so much I want to talk about, or write down, or at least try to remember. But my life is calling me away, and off I must go.
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