I'm a profeffional.

I got business cards today. They've got my name on it and everything.

I feel very impressive. I'm a somebody for the next month and a half.

Oh yeah ;)

like a serial killer with blood trickling down my wrist

"Is it supposed to be lumpy?"

My friend made cookies for the first time when he was seventeen. The recipe called for salt, and he thought salt and pepper always go together. He was wrong. He also placed the dough really close together so in the oven, it merged into one giant peppery cookie.

I made cherry tarte today.

My little cousin was very adamant this morning that she does not like pie. Any pie. Pie bad.

I was tempted to say, "Well you've never tasted my cherry pie!" but to be truthful, neither had I.

So I made this Cherry Pie but have renamed it Cherry Tarte because she won't start French classes until Grade Five. 

I used this dough recipe because I've made it before and it worked out well then. I really hate cleaning the mixer though. Like fiery passion against cleaning this mixer. It's an evil, albeit fully functional, little mixer.

Pitting the cherries was waaaay easier than everybody made it out to be. Yes, it took time. Yes, my fingernails are stained. Yes, holding the knife I looked like a serial killer with blood trickling down my wrist. But c'mon.

Once the cherries were done, it came together really easily. I would have taken pictures but my camera has run away with the Scarf of Sexual Preference. You'll just have to take my word that it looked pretty, smelled pretty, and tasted like it was actually cherry pie.

I'm always afraid I'm gonna make something new like pavlova and instead of tasting like pavlova, it tastes like chicken. Or cat food. Or nail polish remover.

My little cousin also got over her aversion to all things pie and declared it edible. Cool.

I also pitted more cherries and used our new blender for the first time. It worked okay but I remain less than impressed. Although it is rather shiny. I was making cherry yogurt popsicles and when I poured in some sugar, a lot more than I'd anticipated poured out. I thought the jar was almost empty. I was wrong. On the plus side, those popsicles are gonna taste great!

Excuse me as I go paint my nails. Gotta cover up the cherry gore stains before I scare small children on transit.

Tuesday

My seven year old cousin is staying with us--like literally, sleeping in my room.
I spent two hours at the gym, then went for ice cream at the Marble Slabbery. That's balanced, right? We picked out an ice cream to bring home for dad and the woman making it called it the coolest ice cream she's ever made (it had gummy bears, marshmallows, fudge sauce, sprinkles and cookie dough on chocolate ice cream). I was quite proud.

Also, the fridge door handle is sticky. I think that's the ultimate sign of a child in the house.

My blogversary!

Ohmagawd it's ma birthday!

Actually, it's my blog's birthday--I'm one!--but close enough. And this is my 150th post!

Yesterday, I wrote my first short story in over two years. Two years I have only written plays and poetry--my favourite and least favourite forms--and not a single piece of creative prose.

I started writing prose, actually writing in general, because of fanfiction. In truth, fanfiction is just a little pathetic, but it's also a fantastic workshop opportunity due to the constant feedback. And unlike a novel, it's not intimidating.
The short story I wrote yesterday is called 'The Third'. I'll wait a while and if I still like it in two months, I'll post it on my writing blog, Pretty and Witty.

...Happy Birthday!

I want Hermione Granger (and a rocket ship)!

At work, the roof of our building is being re-done, so our typically peaceful office was filled with the echoes of a thunderstorm. Or a rave with giants dancing in high heels.

I spent a while re-organizing the store room and labeling art work when I came across a sheet of metal. It was a bit smaller than your average canvas size, one side silver, and one black with odd splotches on it, and as I was holding it trying to figure out what the heck it is, I thought, 'oh shit, it's art.'

Whoops.

I guess that's bound to happen at an arts council, we've got tons of forgotten paintings and drawings scattered around, but that momentary wonder of 'should it be thrown out with the saran wrap and Timmies cup of my lunch or be hung on display' made me pause.

As it were, the sheet of metal was just a sheet of metal and not someone's artwork. Good thing I asked.

I walked/bussed home (and got a text message saying to 'hurry up', obviously my friend does not understand transit), then flew about trying to get ready. I was twenty minutes late, and I didn't even get to drink the tea I made.

We were going to see 'A Very Potter Musical' live at a local high school. My expectations were minimal, but tickets were $2 so I figured at the very least it'd be funny  just to mock the poor high school actors trying to get their drama credit.

Surprisingly--no, shockingly, it was fabulous! I think part of what made the show great is that the actors weren't really acting, they were imitating. The blocking, the enounciation, the little gags were all exactly the same as in the original show (which is on youtube and I highly recommend it). I think it also goes to show what a fantastic script it has.

We went to Timmies for a bit and then decided to watch a movie. After raiding a gas station for a ridiculous amount of candy and chocolate and ice cream and smuggling it all into the theatre, we saw Prince of Persia.

I only laughed inappropriately a handful of times.

In a particularly action-y part, my friend leaned over to me and started singing 'with cat-like tread...'

Totally appropriate song, yet totally inappropriate laughter. I just can't win.

Sugared Rain

Having no stage time equals lots of baking. It's a compensation thing. And a displacing addiction thing.

I made these Apple Slice Bars and they were really good.

Then I made orange yogurt popsicles out of--shocker--orange, yogurt and sugar and they were a huge hit. We ate eleven in a day. Whoops.

I also don't like nutmeg. I discovered this tonight after making Snickerdoodle Muffins, which were good but no where near as spectacular as these Cinnamon Sugar Snickerdoodles Cookies.

 You know what's really cool though? This!

Things I LOVE but never noticed until I saw the DVD of HMS Pinafore!

5- How the line of men was totally and utterly obliterated every time the girls burst through
4- Sir Joseph's tights. I don't think I ever actually noticed them before, but they are white and he is proud
3- How the Captain patted Dick Deadeye on the head like a dirty but well-behaved dog
2- The audience's delayed, scandalous laughter after Josephine sang "and a tar who ploughs the daughter" (instead of "and a tar who ploughs the water")
1- The hornpipe a la male chorus, I'm impressed, no wonder no one ever looked at us girls even though we were the ones singing

And my absolute oh-my-god-how-did-I-never-notice-this-in-real-life:
- How when the girls ran to Sir Joseph, the Captain got frightened and ran away

:)

HMS Pinafore: The End (Shows 10, 11 and Cast Party)

HMS Pinafore is officially over.

For the matinee, I arrived a bit late with my Timmies and only had time to smear on some foundation before heading to vocal warm-up. Vocal warm-up was always kinda fun. Together, we looked absolutely ridiculous. Some people were in street clothes, some in costume, and lots somewhere in between the two. I usually had my hair and make-up done, but wore normal clothes, or my costume only half zipped up and hanging off with a normal top on instead. For the girls who curled their hair in ringlets with an iron, sometimes only half their head would be done and the other half would be straight.

We were a fairly fugly bunch.

After warm-up, the girls dressing room was an interesting place to be. We had quite a few older ladies in the chorus this year, and some of them had very dirty minds. Waaaay worse than us younger girls. Conversations were always entertaining. For example: vaginal atrophy. Yeah.

Over the weekends, the main theatre was also in use so we lost one of our dressing rooms and the guys had to frequently sneak through ours to use the bathroom. All (well, except one who would barge in wearing tights, bare chest that we threatened to wax, and a hair net) were quite shy and very polite, but a couple times they walked in, got half way to the bathroom, heard a sentence or two of ours, and got very confused. Or shocked. Sometimes they blushed: it was all very entertaining.

Once the show started and the guys were on stage, the girls all slowly zipped up our costumes, darted in our hats, and pulled on our gloves. At the matinee yesterday, we spent quite a while just sitting and talking all together.

Josephine's "Sorry Her Lot" was our cue to begin heading upstairs to the stage. We sang "Over the Bright Blue Sea" from offstage, and the moment the next song begun and the guys began to sing (them onstage dancing, us hiding offstage), we danced.

Again, we have some older ladies in our group. We taught them to krump. And they got into it.  Awesome.

It was a great physical warm-up too because although we don't do any crazy athletic moves, we don't really stop moving much ever once we start. And because it was just us girls, in a dark wooden faux-cabin under the poop deck where no one else could see us, we just went for it. Twice it was videotaped but there was no light so neither of them are viewable. But still: awesome.

We had eight bars to get all of us from backstage, around the side of the ship, on to the stage and into our spots. It didn't work.

Very early on, it was doubled to sixteen bars, and since I was one of the last to come out, that gave me just enough time to get on stage, ogle some sailors near stage left centre, twirl, then run to my spot and start dancing.

I quite liked barely having enough time. It was long enough to get settled without having time to waste . Cool.

The matinee overall went really well. In the audience were several friends, including one who was rapt with attention the entire show and appeared to be thoroughly enjoying himself from the front row. He's been in the show before so he knows all the words, and also most of the cast. Plus, he's a fairly spectacular guy himself, and my sister's favourite all-time G'n'S actor.

Afterwords, we all got changed into regular clothes again and had a big potluck lunch. Two of us decided to eat in the girls dressing room and the entire cast followed, including all the guys who had to sit on the floor.

FYI, these people are fabulous. And funny. And because we're all in the same boat (figuratively and literally), there's a lot of unity.

Much sooner than expected, it was vocal warm-up again. Because it was our last chance, some of us really took the stage instead of just standing around the musical director. Several people rang the bell. I sat on the top step of the stairs, and two other girls joined me and we sat one above the other and swayed to all the warm-ups. One of the guys, of the silly variety, saw us looking happy and just a tad corny and sat and swayed with us too. Hehe.

Usually, there's a lot of, er, comments on the last show. Like, "this is the last time I will ever have to wear this goddamn dress" or "I am never wearing these tights again" or "This costume would look great in a bonfire".

Although one dress will be burned--it had the malfunction, even the costume woman hates it--I quite liked mine. It fit well, was a good length, my shoe never got caught in the hem (although it did have to be sewn up once), I loooved the trumpet sleeves and the neckline (square) was neither claustrophobic nor cleavage-y. I have no complaints.

Except about the hat. Biiiig complaints about the hat.

My gloves were quite pretty too, and since my sleeves were only three quarter, I never had to stuff them up like some of the others either. Overall, I had it pretty sweet.

One of the more difficult songs to dance is "When I Was a Lad". Our choreography was quite simple, very repetetive, and everyone does the same thing. The trouble is remembering the order. There's the hand wave, then the big eight hand wave, then the bouncing, then the above the head jazz hands, then the big steps, then the box step, then the little end part. We all know how to do each step, but frequently, there's that moment of ahhhh-box step, or ahhhh-why does everyone else have their hands in the air except me?

There's six of us that make up the front row, three of each side, and we form a V. Our side of the V was perfect that last show. We've done it correctly before, but this time it was correct and clean and polished. I have no idea how everyone else did (it's usually good, just sooo easy to hesitate) but I was very happy.

The audience was great too. Sometimes, audiences are having a great time and they're chuckling and smiling but because they're not being loud, we can't tell. So they're just dead to us. We need to hear actual laughter to know for certain that they get it. They're enjoying themselves. And when we know that, it's completely rejuvenating and we try that much harder to get more laughter and so on.

This audience--and the one at the matinee too, which had three young girls in the second row who just killed themselves laughing at Sir Joseph!--was really responsive. The perfect way to end a run.

Everything went great until

I just want to pause and laugh at that sentence. Until: that dreaded word.

Everything went great until the middle of Act II when we sneak on stage to help Josephine and Ralph elope. The Captain was on the upper deck--hidden because he was wearing a jacket and no one can ever see or recognize you if you're wearing a big jacket on stage--with the cat-o-nine-tails, a whip. Twice, he hits the deck with the whip and we all jump: "What was that!"

Except our footwork was choreographed. So we all jumped on the same beat as the whip hit--it was a huge sound by the way, the audience usually jumped as well--until this time, the very last time that the Captain would ever use his whip, and he flung it back over his shoulder and then--

It got caught in his costume.

Meanwhile, everyone on stage jumped!

That is one issue with operas and operettas: if something goes wrong, you can't ad lib easily. After we all jumped, the guys still sang "What was that!" and Dick Deadeye still answered.

Other than that, nothing went wrong and it was a great ending to a great show.

After the bows, we do the reprise, and after the reprise, we run off stage.

Then chaos.

Our lovely set had to be completely taken a part, all the props had to be packed away, all the costumes had to be sorted and packed, along with our hats and gloves, and absolutely everything we brought to the theatre had to get out.

It was kind of bittersweet. Everything was okay until I saw the set. It really was a beautiful set. The stage left stuff were dissembled and moved quickly, but stage right has a whole second level so that took a while. The deck itself was built in three parts and they unattached the big middle piece first since it was the lightest. Four men got it up and were holding it above their heads, then one let go since he wasn't really needed, and then at the same time, two more let go and for a split second there was one guy in the middle whose face dropped as he tried to hold the entire eight foot long panel by himself before the others all realized and jumped back in. Hehe.

We got to Boston Pizza for the cast party around quarter to eleven. Everyone was sighing. Happy sighs, relieved sighs, and lots of laughter.

Then came the Crudes. Crude (pronounced cruddey) stands for Creative Really Unusual Dramatic Entertainment.

Aka the screw-up awards. They're given to people who somehow messed up or did something on stage that was really funny and not supposed to happen. They have titles like "Best dialogue without the use of a script" award or "Best costume without a costume designer" award.

For example, one of the guys won Best Costume in Princess and the Pea when he went onstage without pants. Whoops. I believe this years Best Dialogue went to Buttercup's flub in "A many years ago" when she forgot the words to an entire verse.

Not many people actually sent in nominations this year, which was a shame because we screwed up a lot. The wardrobe malfunction with the yellow dress should have been there, and the guy who's pants started falling down during the hornpipe but he had to wait till the end to pull them back up, and my hat and the melting scar.

After the Crudes came the "I Wrote the Words on My Gloves" award. This is a special award for a really royal mess-up. It started the last time the society did HMS Pinafore and the man playing Sir Joseph forgot his scroll, so when it came for the guys to hold the scroll (which is supposed to show the music and words to a song they're just learning) and sing "A British Tar", one of the men took off his gloves and said he wrote the words on them and they sang it like that.

One year, a guy got it for realizing he wasn't supposed to be wearing his hat in this scene, so he drop kicked it off stage. It didn't actually make it off stage.

In Iolanthe, the lead--dressed as a half fairy arcadian shepard--got it for being asked for his ticket right as he was about to enter through the lobby.

That award and the scholarship winner were announced, and then we all partied until the first few people had to leave, and the good-byes started.

There was a lot of hugging. And everyone stood up and squished in between tables and an hour was spent like that as one by one, people had to head home. It's hard because it'll be a year before some of us see each other again, and even that's no guarantee.

There were a couple cameras floating around so one of the guys decided to dip me before he left, which kinda terrified me but worked out okay. But guys are stupid and competitive, so one of the others grabbed me and dipped me really really low, but Guy One got his revenge by taking his sweet time turning the camera on and zooming in and out before he took the actual picture.

Finally, there were just eight us left, and a laptop was brought out and we started looking through the cast photo CD we'd just been given. It was kinda funny because there's parts of the show we've never seen. I know Sir Joseph flirts with Ralph a couple times, but I'm behind all the sailors so I've never seen it. And one of the guys who sings the Englishman solo always got a laugh but I couldn't see why.

 Finally, we were down to four and BP kicked us out 'cause it was nearly three and they close at two. We went to McDs and chatted and hung out till five. Both of the guys are going away in the Fall so we won't be doing another show together for at least four years.

And now, I'm home.

Looking at audition schedules.

Messmates ahoy, come here, come here! (Show 9!)

Tonight's show went well.

My hat was all  fixed and stayed on securely, so no problems there.

Two women in the female chorus were drinking tea downstairs when they suddenly heard, "Messmates, ahoy!" over the intercom and realized that that's their cue to be onstage. I didn't even notice since I'm one of the first people out, but apparently, they snuck on without raising attention quickly afterwords.

God, I'm tired.

With nothing but willpower (Show 8!!)

Stuff goes wrong in theatre.

It's a rule. Shit happens but under stage lights.

Tonight was the night of crisis.

With my mom in the audience again, we opened great and everyone was going smoothly until my friend turned to me with big holy-crap eyes and I realized the clasp on her dress was gone. She wears a yellow dress with buttons down the front and a clasp at the waist, followed by several little snaps. The clasp had flown off and left a gape exposing her black leggings and green shirt underneath.

She was keeping her hands over top it but we move.

Our next song was 'When I was lad' where us in the front go down on our knees. Both of us were a little flustered--it's really hard to stay in the moment while trying to figure out how to get around the problems to come--and for some reason, all three of us plopped down particularly hard. I usually follow my friend who's directly at my left as we start the first move: a big eight with our right hand. The entire cast does it in the same direction, but me and my friend started a hair late and were off.

I thought, but I'm with her?

And I was. Except she was wrong too, so I switched and then nudged her and finally we were on track again. Twice more during that song I hesitated and was late coming in for the first move of the verse. Also interesting, so was my friend, who's the dance captain. Fun stuff.

Right after that song, the three of us clump in the back and the two of them hid me as I tried to unclasp a safety pin that was on her sleeve. Then, I switched positions with her so she was the one mostly hidden as she furiously tried to jab the safety pin where her clasp used to be.

After that exit, we rushed to the dressing room, I grabbed some safety pins and someone called over our costume person and she set to work pinning it all together. We only have about five minutes before we have to go back on for the finale, so there was no time to sew it shut and no extra clasp to sew on either.

The rest of the show went well until the chorus's entrance for the second act. One of the sailors always nudges my hat when we're in the wings and today there were two of them goofing around when suddenly, the clear strap that goes around my neck holding the hat on broke.

We had twenty seconds before our entrance.

There was a moment of oooohh crap before I plonked my hat back on and told my dance partner that he was going to need to help me because it was going to fall of.

Our entrance starts with everyone sneaking so I just toned down my steps a bit and that was fine. The trouble with this hat thought is that I don't wear it like normal: it's just a prop, it doesn't actually serve a purpose because the light needs to be on my face so it's worn very high up. Meaning, more likely to topple off.

Apparently, the string was not piled on my head like I thought because it was actually hanging down on my right, as my friend (with her newly attached dress) pointed out. The next time we all moved, she grabbed it for me and I ripped it off and dropped it during the flurry of motion.

I was very careful with all my moves, because that hat was perched so precariously on my head it was just a matter of when it would fall, and then where and how I would pick it up.

The most difficult part came with the finale. The paired dancing, the big twirls and circles and swishing and hopping. There's hopping. Each time, I felt my hat leave me head and then settle back on. Each time, I wondered what my choreographer would do to me if it fell towards centre and I couldn't pick it up.

My partner was really good and specifically steady, all of our moves were a little less dynamic than usual and more good-lord-please-don't-fall.

There was a moment of panic when I realized that one by one, the girls each begin getting spun down a row of the sailors. And we just keep spinning till we get to the end: I spin three times. So even if my hat did fall, I couldn't stop because it would ruin the line.

We made it through the spins, the pose, the bows, and then came the dreaded reprise: the act one finale. There's a lot of spins. A lot of twirls, of big movements with big arms, and I clung to my partner and miraculously: it never fell off.

The entire second act, my hat stayed on my head. With nothing but willpower holding it on.

A G'n'S miracle!

My mom was in the audience the whole time and said she never noticed my friend's dress. She did notice something was a little odd with me at the end, but then again, no one else in the audience would have watched me that closely. 

I put curlers in my hair again this evening, for the very last time! 

We have one more show tomorrow (that's sold-out!) and two on Saturday and then buh-bye boat!

And the tar who ploughs the daughter (Show 7!)

Today was strange.

I woke up ill. My head was throbbing and there was a general sense of ickyness all over. Thirty-one curlers were in my head and I thought maybe their tightness was to blame, so I lumbered over to the bathroom, sat down and started pulling them out. It was six a.m.

So for my sixth day of work, I called in sick.
I ended up sleeping most of the day, and although my headache came back a few times, I felt immensely better in the afternoon so I watched the season finale of Grey's Anatomy. Just give that cast an Emmy already.
At the show, there was a bit of drama because my sister and her roommate sat front row center. The whole cast recognized her as the girl in green.

Also, during intermission the stage manager told us that one of our sailors had left. Gone. So we should go over spacings without him.

Panic. Dressing rooms emptied and everyone was standing around in the hall, when finally we were told, he didn't leave. He just went to the garden for some air. He'll be back.

Crisis averted.

Seven shows done. Holy crap.

The one and only Sunday (Show 6 -- omagawd we're halfway done!)

Sunday's matinee went really well.There were no slip-ups except at the very, very end--after the bows and at the very end of the encore--Buttercup skips up the stairs to pose with the former Captain and she fell. It really doesn't matter, she was up a second later with a big smile but I know it bugged her. Also, she's keeping score in the green room.

Anyway, afterwords a bunch of us went to BP again and hung out for a while. I had 66 bobby pins in my hair. In case you're wondering, that's a packet and a half. In my hair. Biting into my head. At the same time. Sixty-six. 

Four of us were on our way home in two different cars when my friend got an idea. Stupid other friend had left an empty can of red bull kicking around the front seat and had refused to take it with him, so we raced to his place and left it on his doorstep. 'Cause we're sweet like that.

Then, we had plans. My plan was to wash my hair and blow dry it and then bathe in the beauty of clean, straight hair. Then watch the Grey's Anatomy season finale that I missed last week 'cause of a show while relaxing in bed with my kitty. Awesome plan.

It didn't quite work out, I had to wait till last night to watch the finale (AND OMG HOW EPIC WAS THAT!), but close enough.

I just discovered that Rachel's Mom (Idina Menzel) from Glee has the same last name as HMS Pinafore's Captain. Cool. I wonder if it's on purpose.

On Monday, I worked at the rodeo. It was kinda funny working at the same place as my sister and Dad, although technically he was volunteering. I ended up buying a silver necklace with a big dark green stone pendant and new sunglasses. My Dad bought me a cowboy hat too, so I felt very rodeo chic in a never-wearing-this-hat-ever-again kinda way.

My hair is in curlers again. Good-bye, straight hair.

See you Sunday.