Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Hurt, Blurg, Complain.

My feet are made of pain.

Also my heart, but I'm just being melodramatic. URGH! Why do I get to be called a wimp when l'autre jumeau is supposedly in the same position I'm in (i.e. crushing, but not asking out)? How is that fair? 

I just want to know whether it's a waste of time or not. I just want to know that there is equal exchange of angst going on here. 

Rawr, rawr, rawr.

That's just the "angry at male slobs" part of me talking. Seriously, any gents who may or may not read this, LEARN TO CLEAN UP AFTER YOURSELF. 

A few pointers:

1) Don't clog your drain with hair. IMPOSSIBLY GROSS. ALL POSSIBLE ATTRACTION LOST.

2) Don't think it's hilarious that you don't clean up after yourself. IT MAKES LADIES ANGRY.

3) Learn how to use disinfecting wipes. THEY ARE MADE OF WIN.

Whew.

So much stress just got relieved.

Speaking of stress, improv=not scary! Today, at least. It was the first of a series of Varsity Theatre improv classes, taught by head of Coldtown Theatre (sp?), Mr. J. (Haha, Mr. J, the Joker, haha. Comic book joke.)

Anyways, S.D. and I already rocked a three-sentence Irish potato famine improv, so I think I'm riding the (conversion) train to success!

Woo, woo!

Haha, woo girls. ("How I Met Your Mother" joke.)

I'm petering out. 

Sooooooo tired......

Gotta go get some PreCal done. 

'Night!

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Awesome/Stress.

No time to blog makes Rosalind a sad girl.

Oh, noes!

This late nights are no bueno. 

But SOOOOOOOOO worth it! Could I be more excited about opening night? I think not.

(Also the fact that I continue to crush on S.D. without avail and get to spend time in his ridiculous, excellent company give things an extra sprinkling of awesome.)

But stress.

Stress, stress, stress.

At least I don't have LOADS of homework.

I just have to fix my Euro History paper.

Which I'm gonna do right now.

Write now.

:D

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Homework.

Is what I'm doing.

Or, rather, was doing. I wrote the best story in that English packet. It was about a sheriff named Sally Nickels who wrangles dinosaurs, including a baby-stealing velociraptor. 

It was made of win.

It was legen-

Wait for it-

OMG, Neal Patrick Harris. Soooo funny in "Undercover Brother". I'm actually gonna try and watch the Emmys because he's hosting.

Speaking of Emmys....

Speaking of red-carpet...

Speaking of dressing up... I can never make up my mind whether or not to wear high heels to school. The block schedule means that I would never be walking far enough to make my feet hurt, and I love the way they look with outfits and how they make your legs look awesome, but I face an unfortunate problem:

me+high heels= taller than all the boys

Which I wouldn't mind if I wasn't trying to court someone.

Haha, old-fashioned words. I like that better than "trying to get together with" or some such modern slang.

I feel cruddy. But my purty painted finger and toe-nails are cheering me up. I'm so classy! :D

Gotta get those fingers to work through my homework.

-Dary!

It was legendary.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Sashay, ball change.

Some people don't know to leave well enough alone.

Some of you know what (who) I'm talking about, and some of you don't. Well, "some" is a relative term, because saying that assumes that anyone actually reads this, but it's fun, it's therapeutic, etc. 

It's fun, mostly.

Man, I'm getting moody just thinking about angst.

So let's talk about something else.

1) My hair is redder/oranger! Dyed it again this morning (with a lighter color) and it made more of a difference. Awesome! Looks really red in natural light. Also COSTUME=AWESOME. I can't say anything, except: sea foam green, preppy, cute.

2) Petra Haden. Those Prius commercials where the landscape is people and there's a lady singing? Well, this lady is kinda freaking great. She only has one real album out, but what she does is cover awesome songs (Don't Stop Believin', Thriller, etc.) and sings the entire song. She layers her voice over and over for both the singing parts and the instruments and basically, it is made of fun. 
Get a free download of her cover of the Beach Boy's "God Only Knows" on her website, http://petrahadenmusic.com/sounds.html

Yeah. I gotta do homework now, so....yeah.

Sad.

Tragic.

Naw.

It's swell.

P.S. Why do boys+me+parties=fail? Always? What is this, the third time in a row? All with different boys!

P.P.S. Saw "Measure for Measure" today. An odd play, but well done for the most part. Worth going to 1) watch Matt Davies (?) play the Duke, 2) see Jason Amato's set, and 3) listen to the excellent 1920s tunes.

P.P.P.S. Why do people think they can be rude on the internet?

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

A barrel full of awesome.

Jumeau+me=potential awesome.

Lots and lots of potential awesome.

Could it be like BRomance....

...But real?!

Would the awesome spill out our ears?

So many questions. 

So much silliness.

Man, I don't have rehearsal, and I don't really know what to do.

This is how I compensate.

I should go see if I can find me a costume.

Monday, September 7, 2009

Ba ba ba ba ba ba Barbara Ann!

Jumble of thoughts that I do not have the presence of mind to organize:

1.
Dearest Amani, 
In deference to your wishes, I will here-forward refrain from making commentary as to the importance of your forming a romantic alliance with a particular gentleman lacking in height and blessed in handsome-tude.  Even if it is in the better interest of all womankind.
I'm sorry. I had to go out with a bang. 
Sincerely,
Your most loving princesse francaise,
Rosalind.

2.
Comic book geeks among you: seek out the Marvel series "Agents of Atlas". It is made of excellence, and also of fun.
Allow me to use math.

(robot+mermaid+talking ape+alien+siren+former government agent+resurrected government agent+talking dragon+guy with metal hand)*(huge-ass conspiracy)=AWESOME

Proceed to Austin Books and Comics, or wherever you chose to unleash your nerdiness.

3.
I'm pretty sure Charlie wrestled with Crocodile the Alligator last night (against my wishes), because he came back into the house with a suspicious limp. The kind of limp caused by a muscular injury. A wrestling muscular injury....
Thoughts?

4.
Remind to buy that issue of "Runaways". 
Please.

5.
Will I ever attempt to read my copy of "Artemis Fowl" in French? Does that French bookstore guy pine over me, even to this day?

6.
Will I actually have a decent birthday party this year?

7.
WILL I EVER BE KISSED?

Tune in next time, for "Werewolf Sleepover!"

P.S. You best be going to "The Outsiders". I ain't dying my hair for nothing.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Darry/dairy/dary.

Yeah, that's right. Europe was legendary.

But I don't really need to tell ya'll about it (unless there are untold legions of followers that don't subscribe and don't actually know me). There was exploration of a thousand tourist sites, a thousand and one delicious meals, the French train adventure, and the French romance that wasn't... Was the amount of fun we had beyond the possimpible?

Perhaps. Perhaps, it was....

Anywho, school's started up again, yada yada yada and I wanna actually write in this thing again, even if you've all forgotten about it. I never did keep a diary; this is the closest thing to it, and I don't wanna give up now.

Even if it was started on a whim.

Whatev.

"So, what are you up to?" you ask, with bated breath. Wellllll, I'm still Theatre's Minister of Fun, so I'm working on my fun board, and in my freetime in classes, I've been writing a little freestyle poetry and designing a line of clothes based on the Greek gods. 

Yeah, basically, I'm being weird. As per the usual.

But I'm pretty sure I'm having a lot of really vivid dreams while I sleep. I don't usually remember them (or at least, not all of them), but when I walk up, I have the sense of leaving another reality, almost. Lots of colors. 

And I think I'm mostly dreaming about boys. 

I think I might like S.D. (aka l'autre jumeau). (It's French. Look it up.) I'm certainly dreaming about getting together with him. 

In fact, my dream-me seems to be a lot like the real me, but better. Like, I'm pretty sure I beat up Ari in one of my dreams and explained to him why he pissed me off.

And then, last night, I had an EPIC dream, and I've remembered all of it, and I really need to write it down, so here goes.

(Disclaimer: almost all the people in this dream are people who were in "Comedy of Errors" with me, so you may not know them.)

I'm going to a football game between LBJ and the school that Rachel and Kat go to. I look for Jeremy Polk, but apparently it's a JV game, so there isn't a band or him or any LBJ people I know there. However, Mr. E is playing for the other team. I definitely pay attention to him, but I don't think he notices me. 
I hang with Rachel and Kat and after a while, we take walk around the stadium (it's small). There a bunk bed sitting right on the edge of the end zone, and I decide to sit there and watch by myself. It's kind of near the stands, and I see Mr. E there, talking to some guy, saying he's seen "her" (me?) looking at him, and he's thinking about saying hi, but in a sort of pitying way, at which point, he mentions that he used to date Kat (he says this in a way that I imagine he wouldn't mind getting back together with her). 
I'm like, "Damn."
And then a freaking demon shows up. Seriously. This ugly-ass, Ghostbusters-style demon-thing appears in the middle of the stadium with a vortex and says he's gonna suck us all into hell of something. He comes in riding a horse, but then he turns it into lava, just to show how badass he is.
He floats on over to me (vortex in tow) and I don't remember exactly what he says, but basically, it's "Hahaha, you're a stupid human, you can't beat me, you're gonna fry, etc." He's attracted to me (literally) because I'm wearing gold, which apparently is his weakness, but he makes it clear that I don't have nearly enough gold to defeat him. I throw my earrings and necklace at him and he absorbs them, but remains super powerful. I just keep throwing crap at him, and he just keeps laughing, but then I pry off these hing-things that attach the top bunk to the bottom bunk and I throw the top bunk bed at him. He's too weak to catch it, and it fall on top of him, pushing him into his own little vortex, and the vortex disappears.
Yay, me!
At which point, I am obviously the hero, and Mr. E comes over and he's always been in love with me, yada yada yada, I get the guy. 
IT WAS AWESOME.

And now I'm mad because I had to wake up, and not actually be a hero who has a reallllly cute guy to kiss. 

Rawr.

I'm still mad I couldn't go to that party with him.

Damnit.