HALLOWEEN!!!!!

So, here’s my Halloween. The day starts at around 3 in the morning. The preparation is insane. And the homemade costume means that it is entirely impractical, because you see, we didn’t have to stay within you standard human’s level of tolerance . . . we only had to stay within MY level of tolerance which – as a performer aware that if a costume is comfortable, something is wrong – is a little higher than the common trick-or-treater. And here, we start from the base. The beginning. The part of the costume that anyone can stand. Because it is simply

1. High heel boots, which will get a little uncomfortable in about an hour, but hey, women everywhere don’t give a shit what their feet feel like at noon when they still look good.

2. Spandex & a top – no problem here.

3. Fangs, which prevent eating & drinking (which would be a bad idea anyway as will be explained later) unless you’d want to take them out (which will later be prevented as well).

4. Lipstick, no biggie. A little freshening up from time to time.

5. Special effect contact lenses. Unless you’re Trish, Molly, or my script analysis teacher & can’t stand to touch your eyes, we’re still on your average costume tolerance level. Later, they’ll get more complicated . . .

Now, it’s later into the morning, still an ungodly hour, though. And I’ve moved up into another level of tolerance

6. Makeup. On my arms & face & neck. IN my ears. This makes the contacts a little more dangerous. Normally when makeup gets in my eye, there’s a little pain. With contacts it’ll hurt like hell until I take them out. Which I’ll be unable to do when I finish my hands as well. Oh, yeah. And no washing my hands today. Or taking the fangs out. Water-based make-up. Melts right off (which is it’s charm when it comes to cleanup).

7. Latex appliqués. Very frustrating, especially when they cover your whole face like this. They are HOT. Every Halloween I’ve spent in these has been relatively chilly, but I have sweat welling up at the bottom of these things (charming, eh?). They limit facial movement. The main piece is homemade. The horns on the jaw are not.

8. The collar. Homemade. Which in this case, isn’t necessarily a good thing. The grommets in the back have a few sharp edges. We did the best we could to fix them, but I just have to accept a level of tolerance to the scraping at the back of my neck.

Now I’m into the morning part of the morning . . . it’s no longer considered night. People are starting to wake up, but hopefully not come out of their houses, because I don’t like an audience when I spray my hair. This is yet another level of tolerance. You still with me?

9. The leather bracers. Hot. Also homemade. More grommets digging into my arm. I’ll have little crescent shapes up & down my arm for a week. The spikes make everything impossible. Simple things like swinging my arms when I walk become cumbersome & even hazardous.

10. The gloves. Again, hot. Not really uncomfortable though. The claws coming from the knuckles get in the way of writing, opening doors, & really anything else. These things can still be done, but more carefully.

11. The hair. Something you don’t even notice . . . until you take a shower. My hair is teased, sprayed with colour hairspray, teased a little more, & then touched up with more spray. The make-up may be water based & just melt right off of me, but my hair will keep me in the shower for a good hour. And my scalp will probably still be grey for another day or so.

We put off the final touch until we get to school . . . because I wouldn’t fit in the car. Here is the element that really pushes tolerance to a whole new level.

12. The wings. Operating wings. 20 pounds of wood, Masonite, & cloth rest on my shoulders with chains. Over the course of the day, the chains will dig progressively deeper into my shoulders. They will leave little red chain link – shaped welts on my skin for about three days. Wearing these, I cannot sit unless I spread my wings, very obnoxious in small areas, I usually just stand. And remember when I said things like drinking & eating would become no-no’s? Here’s where it happens. I can’t go to the bathroom. From 7 in the morning when I put that puppy on to 10 at night after the last trick-or-treater has left. So, no drinking the night before or during the day today.

But it’s all worth it to me. And this year, it’s more than fun, it’s a FIX. I haven’t spent this long without being in a show since before I started acting. And not making it into the spring semester shows doubled that time. Oh, the children’s faces when they see me . . . and apparently, they all think I’m a decoration until they get close. But that’s for later. Now, I have the day ahead of me.
The wings are wrestled onto me (with the trench coat) in the parking lot behind the Center for the Arts at school. I lose two claws, so my frustration level is high. After half an hour of, “Mom, watch my horns! Mom, watch the bracers!, Mom, watch the wings! MOM! Watch it!” The wings are on & the chains are fastened around me. My mother & I wish each other a happy Halloween & after a few pictures, she leaves & I go to sit in the Center for the Arts. I don’t have a class for a while, so I sit. The costume is rather uncomfortable, so I’m pretty still. People walk by slowly . . . the building (and campus altogether) is fairly empty since it’s 7 in the morning . . . but my mother has to get to work. One by one, people pass me. I wait for reactions & they don’t come. People look at me, but don’t say anything. And the suspense is killing me. My first verbal reaction – is from a guy I used to have a crush on in middle school & now he goes to my college. Great. He walks by, does a beautiful double take, stops, moves a little further, & quietly says, “Nice Costume.” I thank him & he leaves & the whole thing was just so anticlimactic, I wonder if I’ll get any of the reactions I used to . . . I feel like I missed something . . . It’s Halloween, right? A few minutes later, a panda bear gave me a thumbs up for my costume. Yes. It’s Halloween.
Soon, I find out why I’m not getting any reactions or compliments. A girl comes up the stairs, sees me & jumps a little. Her friend follows closely behind & she says, “Oh that thing scared me.” She turns back to look at me & I turn to her & smile. She screams. Scared out of my skin, I jump. She apologizes, saying that she didn’t know I was a person. After that, I move just a little every time someone walks by. Cameras are whipped out, people want to have their picture taken WITH me, compliments come pouring out of people, & one of the professors tells her class that they must go see the spectacle in the hallway. Wonderful reactions all around.
So my mother picks me up at 2 & we come home. She goes out while I take off what I can (the chains on the wings are taking their toll on my shoulders) & prepare to get fully back into the costume later for the children Mwuahaha . . . my favourite part.

Brian sets up lighting & sound while I touch up my make up. Different approach to the shading this time . . .

As I rush to get ready before trick or treaters start approaching our gate, Brian finishes setting up the lighting & sound outside, my mother helps me back into the wings (which had to be removed to get into the car to come home) & I start to walk outside & a group of four children are just coming in through our front gate. I stop at the door & they see me. They stare for a while & LEAVE!!! They opted NOT to come get candy from THIS house because there's a monster INSIDE! So I mosey on out after they're gone & stand on my perch. Here's the idea.

My mother sits on the steps & hands out candy. Brian stands on one side of the sidewalk on the way to my mother. I am across from Brian, blocked by a tree so the children don't see me until they get relatively close. My mother gives them candy & tells them that If they dare the gargoyle, they can have another handful. I have my foot on a pot full of tootsie rolls (which, if you ask me, isn't the best bait in the world - anyway . . .) & they either come get some, or they don't. If they do, it's usually quite the sight. They lean in slowly, reaching out & watching me oh so closely. When they get just about there, I take my foot off the pot. It is an act of submission. whether or not it scares them (it almost always does) I do not look silly because I tried to scare someone & failed. MY dignity is not on the line. Some forget about the candy after all, some snatch it, some drop it. It's pretty amusing. And the carnage . . . half the tootsie rolls are in our yard. Brian works flood control when necessary, & when there are no other people coming, he steps out into the walk behind the trick or treater right after they pass him. It's rather amusing to hear the chuckles of the audience of parents down on the sidewalk as they spot the setup. Brian blocks their way & taps on my bowl. They usually brush past him so they don't have to face me.

Brian blocks an 11-year-old & taps the bowl. She says, "This really isn't optional, is it?"

The lady across the street brings her dog over . . . who is as wary of me as the children . . . he wanted nothing to do with me.

A guy poked me & i recoiled angrily & twisted away from him. In recoiling, I got my wing caught in a branch & when I twisted away it pulled a leafy veil right in front of my face. That was just kickass.

A mother brings her poor frightened little child up to our house & he's dressed up as a skunk. As she drags him up the sidewalk, he dissolves into tears & just cries & wails all the way up & my mother gives him candy. As they go back down, my mother yells out "Bye!" & the child (must have been 2 or 3) started yelling "Bye!" back at her & I raise a hand & waved goodbye - not trying to scare him, but to at least let him know that I was real - & friendly . . . not nightmare-worthy. And after I started waving he was absolutely mesmerized. The tears were gone, he called one drawn out Byyeee! after another, spending more time walking down our steps than he did getting dragged to the porch in the first place. How cute.

Brian took a few photos . . . rather a lot actually. Here's a few - others will be posted on my myspace later - when they're all fixed up & I've had a chance to really look at them.

Another to the Body Count

The other day, I had a hamster turn over. I didn't really lose it over her . . . Kitty was me least favourite. I'd tried to be nice to her, but I had to feed her while she was asleep & I couldn't take her out because she was so hostile. I had tried to get her over that handling her with gloves & giving food to her with my fingers, but whenever I reached for her, she'd bite me. And not the polite little hamster nibbles that only make the wimpy people upset, I'm talking blood flow for an hour at least. She bit me so hard once, I heard it. So her loss was one that didn't stir emotion. But I just found grandma Xena dead in her cage. Poor thing, I was waiting for her time to come because she was very very very old for a hamster. She had gotten to the point where she was walking very slowly & would not use her wheel because her joints were bothering her. She just died of old age. Now Paul is the last one standing. He's a nervous little guy. He's Xena's grandson, Kitty's son. I have cared for all my hamsters, but I wasn't deeply attached to Kitty & Xena. Nor am I that attached to Paul . . . and through all my hamsters - a dozen or so - I've only bought one. Two were gifts (in the 'here, take this' capacity) and the rest were bred here. I'm coming up on the end of my little hamster farm. But Paul has a year or two left.
But now I've got two dead hamsters tied up in bags that SMELL. So I think I'll be making a trip to a dumpster somewhere later today.

I cleaned the house - hooray for me - & we're preparing for Halloween. My favourite holiday. The whether has been a bit bipolar lately, & I'm hoping for a warm evening. It can be cold if it wants, but for the love of God, NO RAIN. My makeup is water-based & will melt right off (which I LOVE when it comes to the cleanup). So as long as the skies are clear on Wednesday, I'll be fine.

A few minor alterations this year. We're making another facial latex applique, which may or may not be used, & may or may not even be ready by Wed. but it is based on the old one, with a bit of a different attitude . . . I'm not so sure I don't like the old one better . . . but the purpose of this one was to make it on a current cast of my face, so it fits better. The other difference scares me just a little bit. Contacts. Contact lenses with spider webs in them. They look really great, but I will be covered in makeup. It will go to the edges of my eyes & I will have makeup on my fingers. So if I get something in my eye, the world ends.
Now, of course, I'll have some makeup so that I can patch my fingers after washing them & taking the contacts out if something like that should occur, but it's such a hassle. I'm always ready for something horrible to happen (like having to go to the bathroom) but I hate it when things do happen - although they rarely do. But I have Spirit gum, spirit gum remover, makeup, lipstick, & nail polish in my pockets in case something needs some touching up. Oh yes, & in case of something truly catastrophic, a little bottle of blood (for a broken spike or something - ow). God I love the big old pockets on that trench coat.
The big difference has nothing to do with the costume. The big difference is the expectation level of the people around me. At TC, I always won the costume contest & students & teachers waited for what my next marvelous showing would be. This year, there is no contest. There is no event. People come dressed up as a festive statement. No one expects anything so extravagant as an eight foot wingspan. Collectively, this costume was over $500 (Contacts included) & I wear it for one fleeting day. A few wows, a few pictures, & many a child running frightened from my porch. I love this holiday.
And as we realized we have three days before I get up at 2 in the morning to get INTO this monstrosity, we wondered if we had the grey makeup. The wonderful water-based stuff that WE CAN ONLY FIND IN PHILLY (at the closest) & prayed that we had enough grey left over from last year. I found my box & as luck would have it, the idea of having some left over from last year was a notion put in our head by the coincidence of last year, having makeup left over from the year before. But last year, we didn't have that hope. And bought new bottles of black & white (Grey never exists when you need it to). They remain unopened.
Today, we work another step of the mask, clean the yard for the big day, & go shopping. Oh, yes. This year, I'm getting better boots. And better, nicer leggings. Being 15 pounds lighter, I'm feeling quite a bit sexier than I usually do, & I'm going to try & accentuate it. This year I'll try & get boots with heels. Gargoyles should be tall anyway.

And as a side note - we anxiously await the bird's reaction. I once read that if your bird seems afraid of you or seem angry at you, you might be wearing something new . . . like a hat - or glasses . . . that throw him off. This is a world away from a hat.

DAMNIT!!!

My audition was yesterday. Three shows, NO call backs. And I seriously doubt that I would be cast without any further consideration. Those were the shows for the Spring semester!!! Not being in those has screwed me over until autumn!!! This is the longest I've gone without being an active participant in a show since I started acting & now I've just gone & doubled it. Halloween will be a small fix, but to go from constantly being involved to jack shit, is incredibly frustrating.

Weird . . .

Well yesterday certainly was the odd emotion day. I feel fine today, but yesterday I was so upset - for no reason to my knowlege . . . once I found a place of solitude, I had a good cry. Although the first where I didn't have something to be crying about really . . . And then I got home & found one of my hamsters dead, which usually rips me to shreds, & I just looked at it, grabbed a bag & threw it away. With such indifference.

Weird.

All seems to be back to normal so far today. Looking foward to my audition this evening.

The Crash

I have no idea . . . I guess I crashed . . . because I had a really good weekend. We took Carolyn to see Curtains. It was a really good day. And I took a few notes so I can hand in a decent paper for the design assignment. And I got two mugs. I love my mugs. I'm a mug person. And I took a vacation day from my diet. It was heaven But today, I've just been having these overwhelming waves of emotion . . . I've been fighting tears & I don't even know what I'd be crying about if I let them come. I've got medicine that I haven't been taking for a year or so, that I think I'm gonna just start taking again. Because this is kind of frustrating in nature - the fact that it seems to be of no specific root & that I seem to have little control over it - & by it's nature, I'm pre-frustrated. I think I'm Stagesick. This is the longest I've gone without being in a show since I started acting. And I've got too much to do. Oh well. Off to do it then . . .

John Glover

THE FIRST HALF HOUR
The workshop was from 1 to 5. Unfortunately, I had an appointment for a consultation at 2 & had to leave at 1:30. But I planned to come back. They said it would take about 15 minutes. So I go into the Marder Theatre & wait for John Glover to get there. I had decided that I just wanted to watch. Some people had their monologues for the Mainstage auditions (Monday & Tuesday) prepared & he was going to coach them in their performance. The first girl went up & performed. He asked why she picked the monologue & she said that she had picked it because of the range of emotion & the humour. He looked at her kind of funny & said, "Well, I didn't see any emotion . . . or any humour . . . when was it funny?" I remember thinking that he was so rude & brutal . . . & blunt - are there not any more polite ways to put that? Everyone had been saying he was so nice . . .
Then he explained how you should go into a monologue so smoothly that you challenge the auditor to wonder when you started. He told us:
"I once saw someone prepare to do a monologue & before she started, she did this *drops his head & concentrates* & I said, 'what was that?' & she goes, 'Well, I was dropping in.' You know what I call that? I call that the mental retard look. Because that's what you look like. Don't do that."

THE DENTIST
Shortly after the first performance, I had to slip out & go to the dentist for the consultation. We got there a little before 2 to fill out paperwork & the paperwork was finished by 2. Our appointment was at 2. I was taking time out of a once in a lifetime opportunity for a 15 minute consultation. Out by 2:15, right?
At 2:30, I decided that I wanted a piece of the action, so I looked up my old seduction/rape monologue from The Trial of God & polished it so I knew it again. I wanted to do a southern being stalked monologue from The Star Spangled Girl for the audition, but John had asked about the character when the other girl performed, & I haven't read the Star Spangled Girl.
At 3, we left in an angry huff after making a big deal about our specific appointment time, actually calling in ahead of time to make sure that it wouldn't take too long, & the fact that I was missing something very important. They did NOT charge us the $100 fee for cancelling with less than 24 hours notice.

THE OTHER TWO HOURS
I got back to school a little after three (the hospital is right next to the campus) & walked back into the theatre when I heard that no one was performing. The crowd had thinned & there were few of us left. One gentleman went up to perform a monologue where he was a motivational speaker & John had him tell him what the lines were & as he heard them, he did them. And he did them damn well. Cold. He was brilliant. He said to watch the television evangelists before he performed this monologue again. Then a girl went up & performed a monologue about having tried to kill herself because she wishes she could sink into depression, but she can't she smiles all the time. And she's tired of it. Her jaw hurts. So when she's finished, John says,
"You should smile the whole time. Like this *huge smile* & just do that for the whole thing *pause . . . giggles . . . in a playful little voice:* And I don't know if you knew, but about halfway through, you reached into your shirt & adjusted your bra. Do that a few times too. And cross your legs *crosses his legs, grins, erect posture, adjusts invisible bra strap, giggles*"
The group of us that were left erupted in laughter. And he's pretty good at acting like he's adjusting his bra strap . . . I was actually impressed to realize that he wasn't wearing one.
So she repeated the monologue, heeding his advice & we applauded.
It was about here that it hit me that my impression of him had changed dramatically. He really is a sweetie. And he is only trying to help. He's funny. He's a little odd, but he's funny. So then he goes to the bathroom & people start talking about what's been going on & I hear, "Take his jacket, see if he notices" & I didn't even bother to look over, but I thought they meant take as in steal & hide somewhere, but when John returned, he makes it 4 feet into the room & goes, "Niiice jacket." And for some reason, he says, "What's it smell like?" I decided to announce myself from my little corner of the room, having been so quiet, & simply said, "John Glover." He looked up & gave me a "Smartass . . ." look with just a pinch of "how cute." in it. He got his jacket back & in this creepy voice he goes, "Oh, now it smells like you" & Aaron asks how he smells & John - still with the creepy voice - says, "Gooood." I kept quiet for quite a bit longer. One more performer went & then John looked at me & said, "are you going?" And I said, "I suppose so." He asked if I had time to let this other girl go before me & I said Yes sir with a little smile & he seemed pleased to be called sir. He just stared at me for a bit. Then, after having seen a few people perform monologues from things they didn't know, I whipped out my laptop & looked up & memorized the Star Spangled Girl monologue while the other girl was performing.
I went up & explained that I was torn, but that I would perform the monologue I was leaning toward for the audition. I performed & he said that it was good & he liked what I did with my hands & I should not pace so methodically (a habit of mine) & I asked if it was a bad idea to do a piece with an accent for an audition & he said, "Not if you can do it well." & I asked if I could do it well & he said, "Oh, yeah . . ." When he heard it was from a Niel Simon play, he mentioned that it was a good fit for me because Niel Simon writes very smart things & that I was a very smart individual (Where did he get that?)
Then he asked me to perform the other monologue & I did. He said that I did it well, that the beginning was really good, & again to structure (not stop) the pacing. And stop pacing at the end. When I asked which was better, he said the second one. So that's what I'm doing for my audition. He asked how old I was & when I said I was seventeen, he started laughing. I was pretty confused & said "What?" I kind of figured he was laughing because he thought I was older, but he was really laughing. He said, "Well, I just thought you were much older. You have this air of maturity about you." So that made me smile . . . & he didn't have me redo my monologue, but I was the last one so after that we were just hanging around. There were about five of us & we were just talking. John all of a sudden said, "what's your name" & I told him & a few minutes later, Jay (the department chair) walked in & John goes, "Have you met Ripley?" Which somehow made me feel special. Jay knew me of course & we all talked some more. John tried to do something on his phone & we all looked at him while he complained about a flashing arrow & he didn't understand what it meant.
One of the guys looked up at him & said, "How do you get into character?" John looked up from his phone with this "duh" look on his face & said, "I rehearse." Before we all left, he got his things together & started messing with his beard & looked at the black theatre floor & goes, "Oh my God . . . look at all that dandruff . . . just from my beard . . . it just keeps coming . . . it's snowing!" He truly is bizzar. He gave us all hugs before we left & I headed out to the parking lot. He waved to me as he headed for his car. I drove a drunk mother home.

Intruders! Intruders!

Good lord, something's going on today. First of all, I realized that I won't be able to meet with John Glover today because I'm leaving early for a consultation regarding having my wisdom teeth pulled. Oh well. My own fault for not thinking ahead. I should have met with him earlier - but then he wouldn't have been able to help me with my monologue because I didn't have it memorized earlier. Hey, he drives a steel grey Pontiac. Anyway, some sort of presentation or sale of some sort is going on. Right near the spot where I always am. And the noise level is somewhere between a buzz & a ruckus, leaving me not disrupted but kind of irritable. And irritable is not a good thing to be when people keep coming up to me & asking me questions that I don't know the answer to. "Can you fix my computer?" "Where do you register?" "Do you have a wire that will connect a laptop to this random screen?" I don't really know what's going on, but from what I can see, I'm glad I don't have my wallet today because it would be empty. Looks like fun stuff.
I may happily deal with the market area seven feet away from me, but the couch that I sit on has become a meeting place for people who are involved in whatever this is. So while I type away at my laptop & flip between my mail, my myspace, my blog, my message board, & AIM, I'm surrounded by people who are really packed in talking about people & things & events in their lives that are completely trivial. If you're going to make me listen, say something interesting.

Have you ever read anything by Eudora Welty? Don't. It's just like this. It is SO boring. She writes like we're her friends. Nothing exciting happens. She tells a story of when she got her hair done . . . & she talked to the hairdresser . . . & that's it. A story you might care to hear if you were here friend or if you knew the hairdresser, but what the hell do I care? There is no POINT. There's not climax or conflict or anything.

So yeah. Random people, talking about random things too loudly for me to shut out. And since the beginning of the post the noise level has risen to between a ruckus & a roar. Two hours I have to wait for my first (& last) class to start. And when it ends, I have an hour before leaving & I seriously doubt I'll have my seat back.

I really need to knit up a storm this weekend. I put it down for a week & I'm so far behind . . .

Classes

PRE -CALC
This was a mistake. Actually, this was many mistakes. My first mistake was signing up for Pre Calc because I thought It would be fun. My second mistake was not knowing that I needed to take Trig. before Pre Calc. My third mistake was not dropping out when I discovered this information in the first week grace period where you could drop out without it showing up on your record. My fourth mistake was thinking that the textbook would help me.
He doesn't teach from the text book. In fact, he doesn't teach. It's like having a French lesson where the teacher comes in, sits down, & tells you a story in French. And then leaves. I can pick up some of it, but he's not actually teaching us, he's not using the text book, he's not giving us homework, & we all just got our tests back, so we were all on edge today. One of the more soft-spoken students actually yelled at him today. As a soft-spoken student, she didn't yell that loudly, but I WISH I could inject that much venom into my voice. And those of you who know me - that should be impressive. He's asking a question & we're waiting for an explanation & she goes, "No one here knows, if we did, we would have said something by now. Explain it to us." He tried. I am deeply ashamed. I was not in the group of people who didn't break into the double digits in their original test grade, but I was in that pathetic group that didn't pass even AFTER the 15 point curve.

ACTING
Acting class has been lovely lately. I've been put off in my "Lost Object" project so many times & I finally got to go today. I got plenty of compliments & apparently I look the most natural, but that is also my flaw. Apparently, I'm supposed to push the envelope on that reality a bit . . . but this is the teacher who had us all make up stories based on an item on the spot a while ago & she told me to go into playwrighting. She LOVES to see me pull stuff out of my @$$ so while everyone got a simple "explain the circumstances" I got, "What's this friend's name? What colour hair does she have? How long have you known her? What's something you went through together?" I got all the girls to go 'awwww' when I said we both went through a break up & hung out to support each other & had a movie night where we watched Love Actually.

K, John Glover just walked by . . . that was weird. He's hanging around this week.

Last week, I had the most fun in acting class that I've had in a long time. One of the things we did (among many) was we were all told that we were specific animals, but we were not to say what animal we were. The idea was not to indicate what we were (like by walking on all fours) but just to BE what we were. By the end of the time, the squirrels were curled up in opposite corners & the lions were fighting. I was the only other animal that found my counterpart & the fastest, but it was pretty obvious. I was a puppy & the other puppy was the only animal that wanted to play with me. Cause I was running around looking for playmates. I made the shark laugh.

The South Beach Diet

THE DIET
And so in a sudden turn of events, I've decided to go & do something as silly as starting a blog. I doubt many will read it, I don't know who I'd tell about it, but there are just some days where I'm just bored beyond the telling of it.

So, the South Beach Diet. If I've got anything to talk about, it's this. I started a little over three weeks ago & we're doing it the risky way. And when I say we, I mean that my mother went on this diet & pulled me along with her for moral support - also I went without a fight . . . I could stand to lose a few pounds. The risky way is instead of doing phase one for two weeks & going into phase two, we're staying in phase one.

The risky part is that you could go insane with desire for sugar, drop off the diet completely, & gain all the weight back . . . maybe more. Because phase one is lean meat & vegetables. No fruit. No sugar. No bread. No dairy. No caffine. Oh my God in heaven above stop the pain! For a while it was no big deal. The cravings were gone & people could sit next to me & eat curly fries & I'd enjoy the smell & have no intense desire that operated as torture in my poor little head. Now, the cravings are still keeping their distance when I'm just hanging around knitting or something, but things that are shoved in my face are becoming more & more tempting. Pizza commercials are torture. I've been having dinner with people in the dining hall for social reasons & I have to sit there over my huge plate of broccoli while they have pizza, lasagna, toast, pasta, salad with real cheese & real dressing, whatever it may be, chances are I can't have it. And the renaissance festival is WORSE. They have chocolate covered cheesecake on a stick. Chili in a bread bowl. And I'm carrying around a two pint bottle of vegetable juice to keep myself alive.

And this might all be bearable if I were losing weight at a nice pace. Two pounds a week, maybe? Doesn't even have to be that amazing rate advertised, just a couple pound a week. My mother has lost 15 pounds. I've lost 2.

THE WEEKEND
I had a really great weekend. Saturday, I indulged in the time-honoured tradition of doing jack shit on the weekend. I kept telling myself that I should be knitting, but I wasn't. I was doing nothing. My mother & I watched episodes of Mad About You & MASH all day. I love those days. Thought they're even better when you have nothing to do - as opposed to having something to do & ignoring it to do nothing.

Sunday was very interesting. It was our last trip to the Renaissance Festival this year (All together now - "Awwwww") because next weekend is the last & I won't be able to go next weekend. I'll be in NYC!!! That's something to blog about. Anyway, I met up with a friend that I met about two years ago & hadn't seen since. But he's helped me through things & always kind of been there. But I was really nervous because I just felt like such a child. He's 44 or 45 & I won't even be an adult for another month, so I felt silly, but a lot of the worry went away after I managed to say hello (after staring at the back of his jacket for a solid minute wondering whether to tap him or speak to him). But after the initial greeting it was the same friendship I had with the text on the screen at home. I spent the morning with him on a roller coaster of felling at ease with a friend one moment & entirely inferior the next. But overall, it was a great pleasure. I walked him to the gate & headed to the globe for the afternoon shows so I could grab a good seat during the royal court event (that not many people care for) & keep that seat until Macbeth In 20 Minutes or Less which I managed to record with my digital camera & hopefully I can get a few copies of it to give to David (My script analysis teacher who could not make it) & Robyn (the other script analysis teacher). It's just such a great show. And the script analysis professors have gotta love it. Then we went to the Swami Yomahmi show.

Here's where the day gets interesting. My mother has been drinking. Not a lot. But enough to make her a little louder than she usually is. And SY is talking about how this show is written for the geeks. If you this if you that, if you think the answer is 42, if you have memorized the episode titles of all 78 classic Star Trek episodes - & my mother shouted "79!" & was proclaimed an official geek for catching the "test"

Then I got water all over my shirt when he bit the head off a rubber chicken that was rigged to come off revealing a nozzle that he could aim at the audience & shoot water at us with.

It took us half an hour to get out of the parking lot. My mother got pretty ticked that I was letting everyone in - but really, we weren't going anywhere fast enough for it to make a difference. We got home just in time for the Simpsons. Yes I still watch it. And I will be watching it on December 9th when they air the episode with Kelsey Grammar, David Hyde Pierce, & John Mohoney.

CLASS TODAY
Oh, man. I was so proud of my group's poster. It was going so well. The presentation, everything. Someone was being silly & said, "I feel bad for Samuel Beckett because his name is cut in half." Because it was split between spaces between bars. David (the prof.) leaned in for a closer look & said, "And he's missing a T" Way to go. I misspelled the playwright's name. On top of that, I've developed the habbit (after breaking that of cursing excessively) of saying "F!" when I'm upset, but level-headed enough to say "F" instead of "F**k" So I looked at my mistake & said, "Oh, F." And half the class laughed at my silly little quirk while the other half of the class including David, in perfect unison, said, "No, T!"

THE PETS
Dusty is too silly. We keep saying he's not a cat, he's a dog in a cat's body because he just doesn't act like a cat at all. He's afraid of my hamsters & my bird & he answers (vocally) to his name. He got his claw caught in the sofa as he jumped up to come visit me & fell face first onto the sofa. I fell OFF of the sofa laughing so hard I couldn't breathe. Honestly, you've seen cats trip a bit, stumble maybe, make an amusing recovery, but this poor guy went DOWN. You really had to see it. I found out as I was finishing my poster this morning that Niles is bothered by the sound of colour pencils. He was shrieking at the top of his little birdie lungs, which is pretty damn loud & he just wouldn't deal with it, so I had to go put in earplugs. Poor Niles . . . he kknows that Dusty is a cat, but everyone else knows that he isn't. So Dusty walks by & sniffs a bit at Niles's tail & everyone is calm except poor Niles who slicks all his feathers down, opens his mouth & hisses at dusty who either notices & runs away or doesn't & hangs around while Niles gets more & more nervous. And I LOVE it when Dusty walks by & his tail comes behind him & Niles reaches out & tries to bite his tail. What the hell is that going to do? He's got some guts in him. Someday, he's gonna bite Dusty & dustys gonna get pissed & Niles won't know what to do with it.

Oh, & the "Got your tail" game is nice fun stuff with dusty, but Niles will have none of it. He doesn't like my mother much, but he usually doesn't get particularly mad at her. The other day I was playing with Dusty's tail while he watched me with a sort of bored look & my mother echoed my "Got your tail" & I heard a birdie curse word. He just skwawked like I've never heard him do before. I looked up, & I've never seen him so pissed either.

THE CREATURE
There's something in my linen closet. The plummer came in a while back & ripped out the bottom of the base to the closet & now there's this big dark hole & something is DEFFINITELY living in there & moving about. Ew.