Que Onda Guero?

Well, I didn't post on Thursday, obviously; but that's because Thursday was a busy day.

During the day "Variations On the Death Of Trotsky" performed for high school students coerced into watching us by their teachers. They watched a bunch of beginning theatre scenes beforehand, so when my cast got up there the audience was surprised to find themselves genuinely entertained... haha. We were a success! A smashing success!

In the evening performance, both 'Trotsky' and "Words, Words, Words" (the one I was in) were the highlights of the show; at least that's the feedback I was receiving. To speak truth, I thought 'Words' might not appeal to audience members because all the humor is Hamlet, Swift, Milton, Kafka, and evolution allusions. And they're very subtle. But we got chuckles-- I mean, we're acting like f%&#ing monkeys for goodness sake-- so whether or not it was "Haha, that's from 'A Paradise Lost!'" laughs or "Huh huh, she's scratching her butt!'", our one-act was a success! A smashing success!

I would like to take this opportunity to say that, though one-acts were stressful to hold down and work through, my cast members worked hard and I feel like we're a team. It's been awesome working with them.

But now to focus on The Wiz!

That's right. I'm Addaperle in "The Wiz"... I HAVE A SOLO SONG. For someone who has only been getting and only expected to ever get ensemble roles in musicals, this is... magnanimous, to say the least. I don't know if you know this, but I can't sing. Plain and simple. My voice is too low to sing anything designed for the female voice... so, what am I supposed to sing? "Red And Black"? "I'll Make A Man Out Of You"? I'm restricted, as it would appear, to unisex songs performed by Baritones. And even THEN-- after you get how weird it is that a chick can hit that note-- it doesn't even sound that good. I'm just doomed from the start.

SO

The fact that I am singing anything solo-- let alone an entire song-- is utterly baffling to me. I'm not fishing for compliments/sympathy/other forms of bull shit... this is just pure, honest fact.

Well, right now Cristina and I are preparing my sister and her two friends for Rocky Horror Picture Show. They are all virgins (in the Rocky sense; and hopefully the other one, too... or I'm going to have to further my masculinity by beating up some boys). This is a fun bonding experience for us all to dress like whores and shout tasteless profanities and offensive slanders to a screen in a roomful of fat ((drunk)) people dressed in corsets and fishnets. Hot. Tonight is a rare 5th Wednesday of a month, so it's got a special theme. The theme is: drunk. I had hoped for something I could, y'know, DRESS UP for. But the cast will be performing drunk, which will regardless yeild some sort of entertainment value.

I look like a school teacher/student fusion of some sort. Cristina looks like cleavage. As in she's got a lot. HEY-O!

Earlier this afternoon we stumbled upon a craft kit: "Fabulous Fun Foam." Through many mess-ups and confusing instances of "What the hell do these instructions mean? What is-- what is that? This kit is for kids, right? Kids are supposed to understand this? What the-- screw it. I'll do what I think is right." We each made a foam wallet... they came out pretty neat-lookin' but I'm fairly certain they'll break the second we try to use them. Mine has a monster face on it and the latch is its tongue; Cristina's is a penguin surrounded by eyeballs (back) and her signature "Zombie Vag" (front).