THOSE WHO SUFFER LOVE
Ha ha ha.
I remembered how.
((To put on stage makeup))
And doing so involves a lot of heavy blush and bright red lipstick. Which really isn't very fun.
But, then again, neither is sitting on your ass for six hours at a drama rehersal they didn't even need you at. During which you listened to the AKAs CD about a hundred times because it is reallt short and it's all you've got with you, copied down Distillers lyrics from "Hall of Mirrors" onto your shoes, and read the book Special (which is really, really good).
It was very entertaining at dinner though. Anahid, Amanda, Rhiannon, Alexa and I were sitting together (big surprise) and these stupid seventh grade girls start talking about what was punk and what wasn't.
It was pretty hilarious.
They were saying how Hilary Duff wasn't punk.
Well, not shit, genious children.
As if she even tried. Unlike some people....
So I just started saying to them about how she pretended to play the same guitar as Robert Smith, and how it was this kick ass black Daisy Rock with a heart shape etc. etc.
And they just stared at me for a few seconds. And then started whining about Avril Lavigne.
I sorta tuned them out after that.
And so now I'm at home, after sucessfully remembering how (and where it was) to apply all my atrocious stage makeup.
And then I stopped paying attention for a moment and jabbed myself in the eye with my eyeliner...It's still sort of red....Ow.
I had to try on all my costumes today. One dress I had try was too small. And I mean way too small.
It took like three people to get it off of me.
Do you have any idea how demoralizing that is to your personal psyche????
Do you???
Well, let me tell you: it's not great. You know- to learn that you appreantly are too huge to get your own fucking clothes off.
And I got big red welts from the sleeves.
Which is pathetic, really.
Anyway. So here I am.
And...I am still exhausted.
And I don't expect that to change much anytime soon.