Sunday, Sweaty Sunday
Here it is, Sunday yet again. And here I am, updating, yet again.
The past week can really be summed up in one word: “AAAAAAHHHH!!!!” This is easily the craziest week I’ve had since last year’s debate boot camp, and probably even crazier than that because it’s SO FREAKIN’ HOT OUTSIDE. If anyone from out-of-state ever comes up to me and says, “Man, I wish I lived here, the weather is so nice all the time,” I’m going to slap them in the face.
Perhaps I’m just strange . . . but why can’t it be cold every now and then? I mean, yeah, it gets chilly in the winter . . . and THAT’S when everyone talks about how wonderful the weather is out here . . . *sigh* But alas for summer. Shel Silverstein once wrote a poem that applies to my life right now, and I’ll quote it for you later when I get there.
But first, we should go in order. Last Sunday first. We had church as always, although it was a pretty small group. We began our summer study of Psalms, and Dad began it with an overview of Hebrew poetry and then a study on Psalm 1. At the end, Dad decided that he wanted to fuse Hebrew poetry and English poetry, so he cruelly made us all write, not just poems, but limericks based on Psalm 1. It was pretty crazy . . . I’ll spare you all the trouble of having to read them here, but it was crazy. It’s pretty hard to write a limerick at the drop of a hat, you know . . . you’d be surprised.
Anyway, after church there was a lot of just hanging around and writing blog entries. But eventually it was around 6:30 or so, and it was time to actually do something. Aaron, Megan, and John (in that order) had all told me the previous night at Tom Sawyer that I should come to a Shakespeare Showcase thingy they were doing at the Redlands Police Station that night at 7. I figured I might as well, since I had nothing better to do, and it was Shakespeare.
So I showed up at the Redlands Police Station at about 6:45 or so. To my confusion, there didn’t seem to be anyone around. I looked about, and Rachel showed up and I talked to her for a while, but we couldn’t find anyone. In the end, confused and saddened, we went home (I had tried calling Megan, but her phone, of course, was off).
In the end, I ended up getting my Shakespeare in that night anyway. Just in a slightly . . . um . . . different way. We had gotten a movie version of Hamlet from Netflix a short while ago, and decided we might as well watch it. But this wasn’t just any movie version of Hamlet. No, this was the Mystery Science Theater 3000 version of Hamlet, which is at the same time undoubtedly the worst and the best version.
“Horatio . . . you’re standing on my foot . . .”
“I—I’m so frightened!” “Of what?” “. . . your hair!”
“Get thee to a bakery! Wait, no . . .”
“‘To be or not to be:’ the verbal equivalent of ‘Dun dun DUNN!!’”
I could go on, but I wouldn’t want to ruin it for those of you who have yet to see it. After it was over, I called Megan again, and her phone was on but she didn’t answer, so I left her a message. She called me about half an hour later, apologizing profusely. As it turns out, there’s a difference between the Police STATION and the Police DEPARTMENT . . .
Anyway, on to Monday. On Monday, everyone’s favorite canine friend was due for a trip to the vet. This, as always, resulted in major pain for me. Jersey gets a bit excited when he’s in the car, and since I’m the one not in the driver’s seat, he gets to sit on my lap. And stand, and jump, and shiver, and run around, and rip the skin from my knees.
I’m usually in a fairly foul temper by the time we reach the vet, and this was no exception. Mom picked Jersey up and took him out of the car, then set him down on the ground so I could get out. When I exited the car, she was brushing her shirt off, muttering something like, “I hate getting dog hair all over me.” I scowled bitterly and gestured to my navy-blue shirt. Or at least, what used to be my navy-blue shirt, but was now my white, furry shirt.
We went into the vet and waited in line for a while, then waited in the waiting room for a while, then waited in the doctor’s room for a while, then finally the nurse came in. Eventually, it was all over, and Jersey was proclaimed in great health. Perfect health, in fact, for ripping up my knees again on the way home.
At this point, I was in a very bad mood, and the fact that I was tired from getting up early (at least for me) to take him to the vet wasn’t helping. Things brightened a few hours later, though, when I went with David and Seth to see Pirates of the Carribean: Dead Man’s Chest. A lot of people seem to not like this movie, but I don’t see why. I personally thought it was a rocking awesome movie, and it has one of my favorite individual shots of all time.
Johnny Depp was amazing as always, and my belief that neither Orlando Bloom nor Keira Knightly are that good was strengthened. But that’s okay, because no one cares about Will and Elizabeth anyway. But I really liked the story, especially the ending . . . most people seem to despise the ending, because it’s a cliffhanger of sorts, but it made me very happy. The only thing I didn’t like about it was that it was a lot darker and a lot less funny than the first one. It did, however, have a couple of really good lines, my favorite probably being:
“Check this out.” *Bang* “There. An undead monkey. Beat that.”
And I’m almost positive I saw Dustin, too, which made me really happy. For those of you who might not know, Dustin is a Lifehouse guy (he directs and choreographs mostly), and he directed Esther and is choreographing and co-directing Beauty and the Beast at the Bowl. He’s an awesome guy, and is amazingly talented. He made the final cut for a main part in the movie (I’m not sure which), but he ended up just getting an extra.
After the movie, I ran (literally) over to the Bowl for rehearsal, my mom bringing me food and supplies for the night. It was our first dress rehearsal, although the villagers (such as me) didn’t have to wear costumes until Wednesday, which was cool. Most of the enchanted object costumes are really cool . . . at least to see. I really like the Beast costume, too.
Other than that, not much to report from Monday other than oppressive heat. But it wasn’t too bad. Not unbearable, anyway.
Then came Tuesday. Tuesday morning. Much earlier than I usually am conscious. A morning cursed by the fates to forever bear the name, “Driver’s Education: Day 1.” This is the primary reason for the business of this week. Every morning, I would wake up way too early, get ready, then go pick up Sarah, then go to Economy West and sit there for 6 hours or so learning about cars and laws and how to break them.
A word of sage advice for . . . uh . . . well, for Megan, I guess, since she’s the only one who reads this who’s younger than me (and I’m pretty sure she doesn’t read it consistently, anyway, but hey): when you take Driver’s Ed, take it with someone. I would’ve DIED had Sarah not been there. Just random wry comments about stupid phrasing, stupid policemen on the videos, and sadistic bus drivers served to make the day bearable. And, of course, having someone to eat lunch with was really nice, too.
And for the record: maybe I’m just cynical, but I really didn’t find Red Asphalt to be all that it was made out to be. Everyone always talks about how terrible it is, and how they wanted to throw up and run out of the room, and stuff like that, but . . . I was perfectly fine. I mean, yeah, it was gross, but other than that one dude who got his head smashed into two pieces it wasn’t THAT bad. The worst part of it was actually the narrator:
“You drink and drive, you die. You take drugs and drive, you die. You don’t wear a safety belt, you die. I don’t like you, you die.”
Okay, that last one was Sarah, but the other three is a direct quote from the video. He was really annoying. But not as annoying as the Wyoming Highway Patrol guy on the other video:
“It’s nice to be right, but you don’t want to be . . . DEAD right. In the end, it’s not a question of who’s right, it’s a question of who’s . . . LEFT.”
That one is completely a direct quote. It’s sad, really. But yeah, that’s Driver’s Ed . . . majorly boring stuff. That went on from Tuesday until Friday. We also had rehearsals every night . . . dress rehearsals, mostly. Nothing really spectacular other than my (and probably Sarah’s) level of fatigue by the end of them.
Then came Saturday. I was rejoicing in the fact that Driver’s Ed was over . . . that now I can get my permit (yay! . . . haven’t gotten it yet, but probably this week). I got up and had a nice pancake breakfast courtesy of Mom, then hung around until it was time to head over to Lifehouse to see Tom Sawyer one last time. As always, it was awesome. Afterwards, I went to Chipotlé with Mom and Dad, then to the Bowl.
If there is a single worst rehearsal experience I’ve ever had, it’s Saturday night. We had the set for the first time, which was really nice (and we did really well), but it was so hot that it was almost unbearable . . . it was 109º when we started rehearsal. When we got out, at 11:11 PM, it was still 89º. This alone would be bad enough, having to be outside. But add to that the craziness of the show (or at least of “Gaston”), and the fact that it was a dress rehearsal, it was crazy.
Add to THAT the fact that I ran out of water and got majorly dehydrated and majorly tired, and it wasn’t that great an experience. I will now pause for the moment you’ve all been waiting for. This is what I felt like last night:
It’s Hot! By Shel Silverstein
It’s hot!
I can’t get cool,
I’ve drunk a quart of lemonade.
I think I’ll take my shoes off
And sit around in the shade.
It’s hot!
My back is sticky,
The sweat rolls down my chin.
I think I’ll take my clothes off
And sit around in my skin.
It’s hot!
I’ve tried with ‘lectric fans,
And pools and ice cream cones.
I think I’ll take my skin off
And sit around in my bones.
It’s still hot!
Okay, so not EXACTLY, but that’s pretty much what it was like last night. It was absolutely ridiculous.
And that brings you back up to date. So all y’all better come see Beauty and the Beast, it runs this week only! So come on down and see this incredible show! Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go prepare for yet another rehearsal . . .
Comments:
AJ: Websites that publish the post twice when I only hit the button once are lame.
Megan: 4 posts? Wow . . . you must’ve been really bored . . . And that’s right, you did, my mistake . . . but you said hi before that, and then moved on to other things and didn’t come back to me for a while. So I guess I forgot.
Eleanor: ELEANOR!! Welcome back! All of us here at the Death Star are proud to welcome you back into our readership. And in Beauty and the Beast, I AM supposed to be French . . . *sees potential excuse* And . . . since you’d better come see it, hopefully next week some time :-D
The past week can really be summed up in one word: “AAAAAAHHHH!!!!” This is easily the craziest week I’ve had since last year’s debate boot camp, and probably even crazier than that because it’s SO FREAKIN’ HOT OUTSIDE. If anyone from out-of-state ever comes up to me and says, “Man, I wish I lived here, the weather is so nice all the time,” I’m going to slap them in the face.
Perhaps I’m just strange . . . but why can’t it be cold every now and then? I mean, yeah, it gets chilly in the winter . . . and THAT’S when everyone talks about how wonderful the weather is out here . . . *sigh* But alas for summer. Shel Silverstein once wrote a poem that applies to my life right now, and I’ll quote it for you later when I get there.
But first, we should go in order. Last Sunday first. We had church as always, although it was a pretty small group. We began our summer study of Psalms, and Dad began it with an overview of Hebrew poetry and then a study on Psalm 1. At the end, Dad decided that he wanted to fuse Hebrew poetry and English poetry, so he cruelly made us all write, not just poems, but limericks based on Psalm 1. It was pretty crazy . . . I’ll spare you all the trouble of having to read them here, but it was crazy. It’s pretty hard to write a limerick at the drop of a hat, you know . . . you’d be surprised.
Anyway, after church there was a lot of just hanging around and writing blog entries. But eventually it was around 6:30 or so, and it was time to actually do something. Aaron, Megan, and John (in that order) had all told me the previous night at Tom Sawyer that I should come to a Shakespeare Showcase thingy they were doing at the Redlands Police Station that night at 7. I figured I might as well, since I had nothing better to do, and it was Shakespeare.
So I showed up at the Redlands Police Station at about 6:45 or so. To my confusion, there didn’t seem to be anyone around. I looked about, and Rachel showed up and I talked to her for a while, but we couldn’t find anyone. In the end, confused and saddened, we went home (I had tried calling Megan, but her phone, of course, was off).
In the end, I ended up getting my Shakespeare in that night anyway. Just in a slightly . . . um . . . different way. We had gotten a movie version of Hamlet from Netflix a short while ago, and decided we might as well watch it. But this wasn’t just any movie version of Hamlet. No, this was the Mystery Science Theater 3000 version of Hamlet, which is at the same time undoubtedly the worst and the best version.
“Horatio . . . you’re standing on my foot . . .”
“I—I’m so frightened!” “Of what?” “. . . your hair!”
“Get thee to a bakery! Wait, no . . .”
“‘To be or not to be:’ the verbal equivalent of ‘Dun dun DUNN!!’”
I could go on, but I wouldn’t want to ruin it for those of you who have yet to see it. After it was over, I called Megan again, and her phone was on but she didn’t answer, so I left her a message. She called me about half an hour later, apologizing profusely. As it turns out, there’s a difference between the Police STATION and the Police DEPARTMENT . . .
Anyway, on to Monday. On Monday, everyone’s favorite canine friend was due for a trip to the vet. This, as always, resulted in major pain for me. Jersey gets a bit excited when he’s in the car, and since I’m the one not in the driver’s seat, he gets to sit on my lap. And stand, and jump, and shiver, and run around, and rip the skin from my knees.
I’m usually in a fairly foul temper by the time we reach the vet, and this was no exception. Mom picked Jersey up and took him out of the car, then set him down on the ground so I could get out. When I exited the car, she was brushing her shirt off, muttering something like, “I hate getting dog hair all over me.” I scowled bitterly and gestured to my navy-blue shirt. Or at least, what used to be my navy-blue shirt, but was now my white, furry shirt.
We went into the vet and waited in line for a while, then waited in the waiting room for a while, then waited in the doctor’s room for a while, then finally the nurse came in. Eventually, it was all over, and Jersey was proclaimed in great health. Perfect health, in fact, for ripping up my knees again on the way home.
At this point, I was in a very bad mood, and the fact that I was tired from getting up early (at least for me) to take him to the vet wasn’t helping. Things brightened a few hours later, though, when I went with David and Seth to see Pirates of the Carribean: Dead Man’s Chest. A lot of people seem to not like this movie, but I don’t see why. I personally thought it was a rocking awesome movie, and it has one of my favorite individual shots of all time.
Johnny Depp was amazing as always, and my belief that neither Orlando Bloom nor Keira Knightly are that good was strengthened. But that’s okay, because no one cares about Will and Elizabeth anyway. But I really liked the story, especially the ending . . . most people seem to despise the ending, because it’s a cliffhanger of sorts, but it made me very happy. The only thing I didn’t like about it was that it was a lot darker and a lot less funny than the first one. It did, however, have a couple of really good lines, my favorite probably being:
“Check this out.” *Bang* “There. An undead monkey. Beat that.”
And I’m almost positive I saw Dustin, too, which made me really happy. For those of you who might not know, Dustin is a Lifehouse guy (he directs and choreographs mostly), and he directed Esther and is choreographing and co-directing Beauty and the Beast at the Bowl. He’s an awesome guy, and is amazingly talented. He made the final cut for a main part in the movie (I’m not sure which), but he ended up just getting an extra.
After the movie, I ran (literally) over to the Bowl for rehearsal, my mom bringing me food and supplies for the night. It was our first dress rehearsal, although the villagers (such as me) didn’t have to wear costumes until Wednesday, which was cool. Most of the enchanted object costumes are really cool . . . at least to see. I really like the Beast costume, too.
Other than that, not much to report from Monday other than oppressive heat. But it wasn’t too bad. Not unbearable, anyway.
Then came Tuesday. Tuesday morning. Much earlier than I usually am conscious. A morning cursed by the fates to forever bear the name, “Driver’s Education: Day 1.” This is the primary reason for the business of this week. Every morning, I would wake up way too early, get ready, then go pick up Sarah, then go to Economy West and sit there for 6 hours or so learning about cars and laws and how to break them.
A word of sage advice for . . . uh . . . well, for Megan, I guess, since she’s the only one who reads this who’s younger than me (and I’m pretty sure she doesn’t read it consistently, anyway, but hey): when you take Driver’s Ed, take it with someone. I would’ve DIED had Sarah not been there. Just random wry comments about stupid phrasing, stupid policemen on the videos, and sadistic bus drivers served to make the day bearable. And, of course, having someone to eat lunch with was really nice, too.
And for the record: maybe I’m just cynical, but I really didn’t find Red Asphalt to be all that it was made out to be. Everyone always talks about how terrible it is, and how they wanted to throw up and run out of the room, and stuff like that, but . . . I was perfectly fine. I mean, yeah, it was gross, but other than that one dude who got his head smashed into two pieces it wasn’t THAT bad. The worst part of it was actually the narrator:
“You drink and drive, you die. You take drugs and drive, you die. You don’t wear a safety belt, you die. I don’t like you, you die.”
Okay, that last one was Sarah, but the other three is a direct quote from the video. He was really annoying. But not as annoying as the Wyoming Highway Patrol guy on the other video:
“It’s nice to be right, but you don’t want to be . . . DEAD right. In the end, it’s not a question of who’s right, it’s a question of who’s . . . LEFT.”
That one is completely a direct quote. It’s sad, really. But yeah, that’s Driver’s Ed . . . majorly boring stuff. That went on from Tuesday until Friday. We also had rehearsals every night . . . dress rehearsals, mostly. Nothing really spectacular other than my (and probably Sarah’s) level of fatigue by the end of them.
Then came Saturday. I was rejoicing in the fact that Driver’s Ed was over . . . that now I can get my permit (yay! . . . haven’t gotten it yet, but probably this week). I got up and had a nice pancake breakfast courtesy of Mom, then hung around until it was time to head over to Lifehouse to see Tom Sawyer one last time. As always, it was awesome. Afterwards, I went to Chipotlé with Mom and Dad, then to the Bowl.
If there is a single worst rehearsal experience I’ve ever had, it’s Saturday night. We had the set for the first time, which was really nice (and we did really well), but it was so hot that it was almost unbearable . . . it was 109º when we started rehearsal. When we got out, at 11:11 PM, it was still 89º. This alone would be bad enough, having to be outside. But add to that the craziness of the show (or at least of “Gaston”), and the fact that it was a dress rehearsal, it was crazy.
Add to THAT the fact that I ran out of water and got majorly dehydrated and majorly tired, and it wasn’t that great an experience. I will now pause for the moment you’ve all been waiting for. This is what I felt like last night:
It’s Hot! By Shel Silverstein
It’s hot!
I can’t get cool,
I’ve drunk a quart of lemonade.
I think I’ll take my shoes off
And sit around in the shade.
It’s hot!
My back is sticky,
The sweat rolls down my chin.
I think I’ll take my clothes off
And sit around in my skin.
It’s hot!
I’ve tried with ‘lectric fans,
And pools and ice cream cones.
I think I’ll take my skin off
And sit around in my bones.
It’s still hot!
Okay, so not EXACTLY, but that’s pretty much what it was like last night. It was absolutely ridiculous.
And that brings you back up to date. So all y’all better come see Beauty and the Beast, it runs this week only! So come on down and see this incredible show! Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go prepare for yet another rehearsal . . .
Comments:
AJ: Websites that publish the post twice when I only hit the button once are lame.
Megan: 4 posts? Wow . . . you must’ve been really bored . . . And that’s right, you did, my mistake . . . but you said hi before that, and then moved on to other things and didn’t come back to me for a while. So I guess I forgot.
Eleanor: ELEANOR!! Welcome back! All of us here at the Death Star are proud to welcome you back into our readership. And in Beauty and the Beast, I AM supposed to be French . . . *sees potential excuse* And . . . since you’d better come see it, hopefully next week some time :-D
posted by Darth_Harbison at 3:48 PM
2 Comments:
Dude! I love Shel! I have a recorded version of where the sidewalk ends (played, sung, garrgled and yelled by Shel himself)
MY BLOG LIVES! it's back in action, I have even posted THREE days in a row... so go comment you darth dork you!
P.S. I loved the show! and they events afterwards... I must admit I felt kinda funny when Dustin was looking around while singing, looked at me and probably thought "who the heck is that? and why is she here?" but I got a bit teary eyed non the less, I do miss the theater so!
oh, and you know, you CAN go back and delete the second post...
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