Fancy Avenging.

Gosh.

Mister E's number feels like a weapon in my hands. Why, I could attempt to text him and say something stupid! It could be disastrous! It could be catastrophic!

Actually, I haven't the faintest idea why I don't do anything with it, seeing as I no longer have anything to risk, be it self-respect or the integrity of the show or friendship. 

Because chances are, I won't see him again unless I make a point of it.

Rawr.

Anyways, it reminds me of a gun.

Which reminds me of the word "avenger".

Because it is an excellent word and I associate it with the 1960s British show entitled "The Avengers" about a pair of spies, one of whom is my role model-Emma Peel, classiest of the lady spies I have ever known! (See above pic.)

Classy classy classy.

Fancy fancy fancy.

I want to write a song entitled, "I Want To Be Your Girlfriend". It seems direct enough.

Crap! Still have to record "Arctic Princess"! My public awaits!

Murky.

I feel all mixed up.

I miss the Comedy of Errors cast SO MUCH, especially Sexy Club and Mr. E. I really don't want this to be one of those things where I never see these wonderful people ever again.

I want to see them all.

I want to kiss Mr. E.

Well, I got his phone number. So I guess that's a start. (That's what Rachel said.)

Okay, so guys, don't look at me weird or anything, but OMG.

River clay is SUCH a good exfoliant.

Seriously. My skin is so fancy-soft and sexy now. See, me and Rachel and Kat and Dillon (The Abbess, Courtesan, Angela the Goldsmith, and Balthazar) all exfoliated our skin with this awesome river clay and became Sexy Club, so-

Well, basically, it was pretty great.

And I miss them.

And I was talking to Catherine (family friend who is staying with us as she directs my pa in Henry V) about colleges (She works at DePaul) and she was talking about the crazy-ass theatre program that accepts 45 in the first year, but then ousts something like 15 in the second year because they end up "not being good enough".

Which scares the CRAP out of me.

Because I love acting. Love it, love it, love it and I really want to get some sort of degree in it, but there are so many beautiful, fantastic actors and it feels like there isn't room in the world for all of us. 

And I am, of course, scared that I'm the one who would get the boot. 

So I'm befuddled.

I don't want to go off and leave you guys for some silly college.

:P

Oh, I just want to hug everyone.

Parties: The Life Blood of Our Teenage Years

So Comedy is going really, really well, and I've been so happy to see all you lovely, supportive people there. (Hopefully, this trend continues into the next two days. :D )

I'm in a lovelorn mood, listening to the Titanic soundtrack and not comprehending that I may never see Mr. E again after Sunday. 

Speaking of Titanic...party!

And speaking of parties, yes! We should have some. We need to have our modeling party (Lauren and I are in deep cahoots for this one; involves singing along to "I'm Too Sexy" and prancing around in three-inch heels), and our Titanic-watching sleepover, and a dance party, and- and-

And a lot of other parties, too!

And we will have a terribly excellent time and we will be fancy (I mean, what else would we be?) and oh, it shall be swell! 

Speaking of swell, we should have swing dancing at the dance party.

Oh, so much to plan! So little time!

Shows and swellitude!

Dear Besties,

Red Then Productions (a group formed by my mother and myself), is producing a one-man version of Shakespeare’s Henry V starring my very own pater, Robert Faires. It runs at the Off Center, home of the Rude Mechs, for 15 performances, July 2-25 and I am extending a special “friends and family” discount to you and your friends! 

Henry V is the culmination of an 18 year-old dream first conceived by Faires in 1991. Using Shakespeare’s instruction to the audience to use their imaginations to conjure the play’s royal courts, horses, armies, and battlefields, Faires reconceived the drama for a solo performer playing 13 characters. Over the course of 75 minutes, with only a few household props, he leads the audience from Henry’s throne across the English Channel into the French court, through a fearful war and into one of the most charming wooing scenes in Shakespeare. 
 
We are thrilled and honored friend and colleague Catherine Weidner has joined us here in Austin to direct Henry V. Catherine is the Associate Professor Classical Acting/Heightened Text at The Theatre School of DePaul University in Chicago and was the Program Director of The Shakespeare Theatre Company Academy for Classical Acting at George Washington University in D.C. and has directed for the Illinois Shakespeare Festival. 

Henry V runs Thursdays-Saturdays at 8pm and Sundays at 5pm. There is a special 4th of July performance at 5pm with complimentary champagne and sparklers too! Tickets are ON SALE NOW for $15 but as a FOB (Friend of Bill) you and your friends can gain admittance for the low price of $10. To get this discount, log on torudemechs.com and click on “get your tickets now”. Select the performance date and click on “begin order.” In the box marked DISCOUNT CODE enter the word: five and click on additional prices. The FOB price of $10 will become one of your selections! Easy peasy. 

Phone orders are available at 1800-838-3006. Ask for the “five” discount and you’ll be eligible for the $10 FOB ticket there too. 

Tickets are also on sale at austix, but the FOB discount is not available via the website. Call or email Rachel Watreas at 474-8497 or austix@austix.com for the special $10 ticket. 

Tickets are on sale now. Buy soon, buy lots!

(NOTE: As students, you automatically get the $10 discounted ticket; this is more to forward to your parents/adults/other fancy people!)

<3

Rosalind

W.H.O.R.E.S.

I love a good giggle. Last night, Rachel and I nearly ruined rehearsal with our laughing. It was most excellent.

You know what is always fun?

Calling people "whores". Especially when they're playing the part of a whore.

No!

She's not a whore.

She's a "courtesan". 

She's fancy.

I'm in a silly mood.

I bet you can tell.

Our History II professor didn't show up today!

Oh, I pretty much have a smashed-into-the-wall-crush on Mr. E. I can't even get interesting words to come out of my mouth around him anymore. And nothing's sexy like a girl with nothing to say.

:P

All that, and I just learned the best possible way to hold hands!

Hahaha, it's true. I must teach all of you.

Haha.

Thinking about the flirting seminar backstage during the Outsiders auditions.

I'm in a really good mood, and I don't even have that good of a reason.

:D

Damn! That last post was long.

Oh, well. Makes up for the last few days of silence.

Be sure to read it all! 

:D

(This is me being cheeky in an attempt to make you read it, even though it may bore you.)

It won't bore you!

Therapy (of all shapes and sizes)!

You know what would be splendid? A little retail therapy.

Or creative therapy.

Such as writing a hit Werewolf Sleepover song before nearly passing out from heatstroke!

I'm gonna write the lyrics down right now, so I don't forget them, but I hope to lay down a rough track and share it with you lovelies in short order.

Arctic Princess (Working Title)

I just wanna go home

And sit next to my air conditioning

I just wanna go home

And pursue a career as an Arctic princess!

Lord, I just want to be

An Arctic princess, sipping cups of iced tea

Cause it's ninety degrees

And I want to be with my AC-ee-ee

Oh, no! 

I'm fooling myself!

Oh, no!

My brain's been left on the shelf!

For if you ask any young W.H.O.R.E.

She'll tell you it's a hundred and eight

And, oh, this weather I hate!

And abhor and abhor and abhor

Oh, oh, oh

Oh-oh-oh-oh!

Oh, oh, oh

Oh-oh-oh-oh!

I want to be an Eskimo-o!

End song.

Swell, ain't it? It's my baby.

Not literally.

That's would be distressing.

And SPEAKING OF DISTRESSING, I am all muddled by the roadblocks I continue to face in my rehearsal time with Mr. E. Really, quite distressing. When I have time off, he is on stage, and when I have time off, he's working to get off book.

Plus-which, he has recently revealed that he has never been kissed, and I certainly have never been kissed, and I think we could solve each other's problems quite simply, really, but I don't really have an inkling of how to suggest such a thing.

Which is bothersome.

Such are the trials and tribulations of a privileged, middle-class, white girl!

C'est tragique.

And speaking of white people, I just watched "National Treasure" because it was on the television and I was extremely fatigued after rehearsal and wanted to watch something dumb. Let me tell you: it is a terrible movie. Also, you should definitely watch it when you want to watch something dumb but fun. Nicholas Cage's hairpiece looks awful and he hooks up with a girl way too young for him, but there's some historical inaccuracies (particularly amusing when one is taking American History and all things are fresh in the mind) and running around Philadelphia and New York looking for Freemasons, so in the end I was glad to spend an hour and a half eating pasta and looking at shiny treasure. 

Now I ought to talk about other things, like MY FATHER'S SHOW (Henry V), or for that matter, MY SHOW (Comedy of Errors), both of which you SHOULD DEFINITELY ATTEND, or the beautiful and amazing aerial dance entitled "Impermanence" that I saw tonight (See this if you can; only runs this weekend and next), but frankly, it's late and I need to go to bed, so what I've just said will have to convince you on it's own. Perhaps I will entice you later at my leisure.

Oh, also my cat has diabetes. WHICH IS TERRIBLE. Not kidding. Luckily, we caught it really early (she may not even be full on diabetic, yet), but it still makes me worried for my kitty. So send your good karma Tiger's way, m'kay?

That's it. I'm going to bed.

M'kay?

M'kay.

Goodnight!

SNAP.

I think I wished too hard.

Crap. Carp. Prac. Parc. 

He's single and I have about the same chances with him: none. And now I just feel dirty for wishing him ill. 

Sigh. 

Oh, well.

I'm a big girl. 

I'm going to listen to The Producers soundtrack and stop being a silly mumpkin. 

Someday I'll write a Werewolf Sleepover song about this.

Speaking of! I never said what this blog was named after! It's a band. The best of the best. Join the Facebook group! (http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=111969376094) Be a groupie. We like groupies. We treat them nicely.

Okay. That's enough excellence for one day. Homework time.

This was a weird day.

D:

This is tragic.

I'm a real woman. I don't to just have to sit and take this. 

I am going to be so awesome tomorrow.

It may blow (very specific) people's minds.

It will be excellent.

Must decide on wardrobe. Will consult The Sartorialist blog (http://thesartorialist.blogspot.com/) for fancy new fashion trends. 

Also, side-note: I love volunteering with kids. And I finally have the whole "Legally Blonde: The Musical" soundtrack!

Maybe I'll pull out some bend-and-snap tomorrow! :D

Facebook is making me irate.

"Love: you can't start it like a car, you can't stop it with a gun." -Facebook quote

Why?

Why would someone post this? To personally torture me?

I think I'm becoming a stalker. Crap. I don't want to be a creeper. 

Blah.

Blah.

Blah.

I really need to have something else to do with my time besides homework and learning my lines.

I mean, besides mooning over Mr. E.

CRAP.

Nononononono.

I am selfish. I should shut my trap sometimes.

:P

I need to go study for my US History II class. 

And having said thus, I shall do thus.

La dee da dee da.

Goodnight, ladies and gents, and good luck.

(Goodnight and Good Luck is an excellent movie, by the by.)

No, really.

Au revoir!

Stuffstuffstuff.

I want an awesome label-maker, like the one Amani has.

I want some pretty white menswear-style oxford shoes.

I want have a real birthday party.

I want a boyfriend. 

D:

Crabby McGrumpy.

It's pretty much my name right now. BLAHBLAHBLAHBLAHBLAHBLAHBLAHBLURG.

Alright. Get all geared up for my...

SECOND STORY:

I'm going to use a code name for the gent we will be discussing today, as one NEVER KNOWS who will stumble across this lil' blog. 

He shall be called.............Mr. E, with regards to his character. 

Oh, hell, there's not even really a story with this one, except that I definitely, definitely like this guy and we've been maybe flirting? And I just found out that he has a girlfriend. WHICH IS DUMB. And FOOLISH. 

And this isn't even a blog post, really; it's just a rant, but I don't know what else to write except that I think other boys (who, coincidentally, HAVE EXACTLY THE SAME NAME) are dumb for being awkward turtles and for never taking action. 

Damn. Now my feminist side of me is really pissed at this whiny side of me.

Well, crapernackles.

Blah, blah, blah, blah.

I want certain people to get OFF Facebook so I will stop having the temptation to start a chat with them.

Lalalalalalalalalalalala.

I just finished reading my first Agatha Christie book. I rather liked it. 

I have never liked pianos so much.

This is how I angst.

I am angry. The weak stabs I've made at summer romance have completely died and have left a nasty stink over everything like the dead rat that is currently taking a dirt nap under the replica Globe stage the Comedy of Errors cast (including myself) is performing on. 

I hate Facebook. It brings unwanted reality into my life. Do I  NEED to know who is going out with whom? Couldn't I just pretend everyone was fair game? 

I have two sad tales to tell. 

STORY THE FIRST:

Amani and I have seen the handsomest man in Austin, and perhaps in the world. I joke not, ladies. He was distractingly perfect, the kind of guy who gives George Clooney a run for his money. Short dark hair, slim but muscular body, cute and slightly chiseled face. Anywho, said Mr. Handsome (as he will now be referred to) was encountered at Deep Eddy Pool. So first, he's just sitting poolside looking handsome, but then he does some laps, and then he sits down to talk to this guy, whom he obviously knows and they start chatting. Whatever. 

Amani and I gaze from the distance, whilst pretending not to. We argue about whether he is gay. The fellow with sunglasses on is OBVIOUSLY gay (here on will be referred to as The Gay One), but I just don't want someone of this caliber lost for females everywhere. 

And THEN.

They come over to the wall between the shallow end and the lap lanes where Amani and I have been chillaxing and reconnoitering and sit some feet away from us. And they (particularly Mr. Handsome, I must point out) completely check us out. For a long time. 

And then they leave and go back to their towels after Amani and I get into a laughing fit. 

Which SUCKS.

But then we have to go to our towel, which is near their towels, and they totally have their eyes on us whenever we pass by. So basically, we make a point of walking past a lot. 

But then Amani leaves, and I walk her out, and then I come back to the towel, hoping that maybe my nearby sunbathing will grant Mr. Handsome the courage to come over and chat me up or something. 

Does it?

Would I be writing this if it had a happy ending?

No.

I sit down for about two minutes, and he gets up and LEAVES.

Which on the one hand may mean that he was so smitten with Amani that he took off after her, in which case, I wish you both oodles of happiness. 

But it still sucked.

Blurg.

Second story coming later.

BLARG.

I WANT A PARTY NOW, BEOTCHES. 

Make it happen.

Please.

I really need one.

Why are you crazy people all too busy for me?

Endorsing Machine.

I am at the point that I am realizing that I spend 90%  of my time of this blog endorsing things: shows, people, films, etc. and I think I should really get famous right about now so I start getting paid for it.

That said, yay me! I've totally figured out what my two favorite (fiction) books about World War II are! You're so proud, aren't you? Anywhoooo.... titles and descriptions below; you should totally borrow them from me, ladies and gents!

In no particular order (I couldn't possibly think of picking one over another):

The Book Thief, by Markus Zusack: Heart-rending, brilliant, engrossing book about a orphan girl in Nazi Germany who is adopted and, with her adopted family, ends up harboring a Jewish man, as well as growing up. The prose is positively beautiful, and it finds its uniqueness in its portrayal of the mundane as well as in its narrator. The personification of Death leads the story around for the reader and lets us see a Reaper without scythe and skeleton face. Overall, a ridiculously good book that will absolutely slay you. In a good way.

Tamar, by Mal Peet. The spy novel that is about so much more than spies. (Not to imply that there isn't loads of espionage in this sucker- there is plenty.)  The story goes back and forth between 1944 and 1995, between a man (hint, hint: a spy) and his granddaughter, and the reader gets to see the story of this man unfold. The main players are two Allied spies who drop into Nazi-occupied Holland, and a Hunger Winter insues. Yeah, not exactly hilarious, but a completely engrossing, terrific "novel of espionage, passion, and betrayal", as the cover so excellently describes itself. 

READ THEM, CHILDREN! 

What You Should Be Doing At 1 AM.

Watch "Castle". Lauren has got me hooked on the incredible asshole/attractive paradox of Nathan Fillon. 

Other gents I have on my radar:

1. Adrian Brody, after seeing "The Brothers Bloom". First of all, I cannot recommend said film enough: a delightful, touching caper of a movie with gorgeous settings and performances. Also: wow! It has led me to appreciate the man behind the nose.

2. Neal Patrick Harris, following a classy bit of hosting at the Tony Awards. Dr. Horrible's Sing Along Blog got me hooked on him, and he got to do a little singing to close down this show, too!

3. Lee Pace. Ever adorkable, ever my fave.

In the day-to-day: hilarity crisis! Inquire about the Reed-Reid-Dallas triangle, a coincidence that is surely a sign of a government-led conspiracy against me. Oh noes!

Quickie.

STATEMENT OF THE DAY:

Amani is pretty much great and awesome. Break a leg salsaing, girl!

QUESTION OF THE DAY:

Would ya'll be interested in reading a story posted in chapters?

Heat Wave

Today is a freaking perfect Austin day. I'm sitting outside on the ACC campus and it's hot (but not unbearable), sunny, and blue-skyed and it's making my day. If only I could go frolic with my besties...

Alright, I'm going to make a official endorsement of ACC. It's really fun and fancy and it makes me feel like a big person. 

And, of course, speaking of being big, OHMIGOD, Imma gonna be a junior next year! I mean, the hell?! I can't decide what I think of it besides the fact that it's utterly ludicrous. Juniors are big people. 

1. They think about college.

2. They go to prom.

3. They are upperclassmen.

4. They become seniors when they are done being juniors.

All of this is RIDICULOUS. Patently. I refuse to believe it. I don't know what I'll be next year, but it won't be a junior. 

Oh, whatever. This rant is foolish. I'm hungry, and that's probably what is fueling all of this. (Ha, irony- I'm "fueled" because I'm without "fuel". Hahahahaha.....) 

So I'll talk about food. (Look out, I'm good at this.) 

Food will always be in my top five favorite things because I need it to live, but food is also great because it is (or at least, ideally is) an excellent experience of deliciousity. As a youngin', the highlight of my birthday was the dinner; in my family, it is tradition that the birthday girl or boy dictates what the birthday dinner is. So basically, deliciousity. 

I've got to cut off this post- I'm going to rehearsal, yo! And that be tres importante! :D

Mah duty.

Well, I wouldn't want to let you LOVELY three people down, so here I am, posting again. 

Except I don't have much to say. 

OH NOES!

Well....

Okay, so I'm just gonna plug an advert in here and then go back to homework. I am in a production of The Comedy of Errors (Shakespeare) that the Austin Shakespeare Festival is doing with youth this summer. The performances are at the Curtain Theatre, and run from June 25th to the 28th, with weekday shows at 6:00 and doubles on the weekend. More info can be found on the ASF website: http://austinshakespeare.org/drupal/

So come see me play a nun, alright? It will be swell. :D

Well, snap, I'm on a roll.

Look at me. Miss Fancy. Writing all these blog posts in one day. 

Well, I'm pretty much having a great time making up for all the time I have spent not writing blog posts (Ah! The pre-blog days!), so I'm just gonna keep bossing you people around from my side of the Internets.

You're so lucky that I'm benevolent like that.

And speaking of benevolence, I'm gonna make a list of things you should do (and if you are already involved in said activities, by all means, carry on). 

LIST (in no particular order other than what comes into my head).

*Watch "Pushing Daisies". Yes, your negligence has already caused the show to be canceled, but the least you can do is show your penitence by watching the sole two seasons on DVD.

*Sing a song. Right now. I did. You couldn't hear me, but I did. I sang a snippet of "Something Good", from The Sound of Music.  "Nothing comes from nothing. Nothing ever could. So somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good..." What did you sing?

*Look up the Paramount Summer Classic Movie schedule and pick out some films you're going to go see. 

......Crap. I'm running out of things right now. Well, go to Barton Springs, and invite me to come with you. On account of I don't want to write my Great Ideas paper.

ACC and feelin' fancy.

Golly gee. I went to my first ACC classes at Rio Grande today, and I don't think I'm going to have the worst classes of my life! Pleasant surprise (my expectations were not high). Both the teachers seem intentionally AND unintentionally hilarious. Which I totally approve of. 

Pluswhich, it feels so downright fancy to be going to College (with Capital Letters), with the old people (no offense, people who are 18+) and general laid-back feel. And the 1900s architecture is positively my favorite.

Speaking of 1900s, I just finished (and by "just", I mean a few weeks ago) reading "Ragtime". Now I had been a long time fan of the musical of the same name (based off said book), I had never read it. It's a wee little novel, and very stylistic- any dialogue lacks quotation and there is a general feeling of medical precision when one begins reading, but by the time I found myself half-way through, I was totally engrossed in the intertwining historical fact and historical fiction. 

Consider it recommended. 

However, recommended or no, historical fiction does NOT make for the most thrilling blog post. 

SKIP DOWN TO HERE IF YOU ARE BORED WITH THE ABOVE:

I like flash mobs. You should, too. (If you are unaware as to what in heaven I am talking about, please redirect yourself to the following site: http://improveverywhere.com/) I want one. I think we, the people of Austin, should have one. 

All who are with me, say "Aye!" No, seriously, I've been thinking about this for a long time, and I have an idea for a simple one. I should totally be able to pull it off, too. Now, I tain't gonna say what it is, just yet, but keep your eyes/ears/minds open, and maybe you'll get a crazy email out of the blue this summer with instructions!

You never know...................................................................................

I hope all those periods made it dramatic.

OHMIGOD, YOU GUYS!

Guess what? GUESS WHAT?

I have a blog.

And it's fancy and pretty and brand-spankin' new. 

Isn't it untrue that you do not want to spend all of your precious time reading it? (Note the snazzy use of the double negative; something I picked up off of Saturday's episode of "Pushing Daisies".)

The correct answer is, "yes". 

Did you say yes?

....

I'm waiting for your reply, like they do on "Dora the Explorer". (I ONLY KNOW THIS BECAUSE I BABYSIT, ALRIGHT?)

So, just shut up! And keep reading.

Amani tells me that you are a terrible person. She is probably right. However, I need whatever kind of people I can get to read this blog, so I'm not going to discriminate. 

Amani also says I should tell you why this blog is called Werewolf Sleepover. She is wrong. The answer to this query will appear as part of a five-part BBC mini-series that will be aired during the upcoming PBS fund drive. 

LOOK! I just tricked you into watching PBS.

No, I like PBS. I grew up watching "This Old House". I don't know why; in retrospect, that show appeals to me just about as much as watching an hour of the Home Shopping network or the fourth hour of the Today show. (WHY DO THEY NEED FOUR HOURS?)

Yes? What? You want to know what the hell this blog is about? (Look, I'm pretending I can hear you again.)

THIS BLOG IS ABOUT EXCELLENCE.

Consider the matter handled.