Opening Night Party (cont.)

I should mention that in between Andrea picture-taking and us leaving, two other things happened that I failed to write about.

First of all, Brent passed out in his bedroom shortly after speaking with Andrea and Diana. Apparently, Diana was in and out of his room all night, presumably looking after him. So, that's why Brent disappeared for the rest of the night.

Second of all, after singing "Imagine" with a few others on the piano, I went upstairs and decided to take a breather on the balcony. Andrea, Anna, and Ryan (redhead) were already out there. They were talking about love, relationships, and gloom and doom. The three of them, especially Anna and Ryan, were lamenting about their problems and let-downs about relationships and their failures at finding love. They talked about the fact that they wore their hearts on their sleeves. They said that they always fell for people so hard, and then they would end up getting hurt so easily because of their vulnerability. Anna and Ryan were talking about the same thing -- they were sick of the whole hunt. I was surprised when Ryan told me that he wanted to skip ten years ahead and be married. He said he hated looking; he wants the security and comfort of knowing someone is there. Anna just said that nothing was happening the way she wanted it to (in terms of relationships). It was an interesting conversation. Of couse, I complained about someone who will remain unnamed smelling too much, but that didn't last very long.
Mid-way through the conversation, negative Chris comes out. He has just recently found himself a girlfriend. I wager that relationship won't last long, but he comes out on the balcony and announces (after learning what we were talking about) that he has found "the one". He was a lonely little bugger for awhile, so now that he finally has a girlfriend, he has to make sure that everyone knows. I don't know if it's just me, but it's not something that was quite à propos to this conversation. Besides, he said it in a too-bad-you-haven't-found-your-person-yet-because-I-have way. I got a little annoyed with him, so I said loudly,
"Don't you think you're being a little naïve?"

He looks at me with these huge eyes and whispers "oh no, I know" as condescendingly as he possibly can.

I decide to ignore Chris and talk with Anna. It's not that I don't like the dude; it's just sometimes he's too negative or too self-righteous.

Oh, how I love those who think they are above everyone and everything, don't you?

Opening Night Pictures

Paula and I in the lobby, waiting for the plays to begin

Andrea and I dancing

Ryan and I striking a pose

Andrea's cast (minus Brent)

Opening Night Party

Not only does Brent live with two other drama majors, but the apartments above the butcher shop are full with drama students. So, it was really neat; the party was spread over three different apartments.

The evening started out innocently enough. Myself and a few others from various plays hung out in the living room. Batman was our DJ, and he played some real chill (yes, that's right) songs. Chris, Anna's negative friend, showed me his new, amazing, and incredibly cheap keyboard (with no synthesizers, no less). We messed around on that for a bit. I wandered around the apartments, hanging out and talking with a variety of people, but I probably ended up spending most of my time in the living room dancing, singing, and playing piano.

Whilst I was leading over a dozen of us in beautiful songs, trouble was brewing with the It Happened in the Other Room cast. As Anna and I were dancing to Batman's rendition of "Home for a Rest", drama was flaring up left, right, and centre.

So, let us move away from the living room, and let's go upstairs to the kitchen, where the drama is brewing.

Apparently, Brent and one of his actors (Matt) got into a significantly large argument. From what Andrea told me, it appears that the fight started after Brent had downed three-quarters of a bottle of something really potent. So, it was most likely that Brent started the fight. He started saying how this and that was wrong with Matt's performance, how his "wife" lacked energy because of him. Then he started to attack the other actors, telling them that they didn't portray anything right, that their performance was off, that they were too slow, etc. Apparently, Matt started to argue back with him (something you shouldn't do with such an immature director). Of course, alcohol-filled Brent started shouting back. Before long, Matt, and most of the other cast members, left the party in a huff, after Brent had told Matt to "get the fuck out of here." It was Brent's apartment, so technically, he is allowed to say that.

Andrea and another guy from her play were the only two cast members who stayed. They were not directly involved, but the fight had essentially turned the cast members against Brent, their beloved director. I was chatting with Andrea for a bit, when glazed-over-eyes Brent came up to us.

"Uh, can I talk to you alone, Andrea?" slurs Brent.

She agrees, and I move promptly move away.
Please read this for some background information about the Andrea and Brent fiasco.

As she relates to me later:

Andrea: "He was so angry the entire time, and he wouldn't stop talking about how mad at Matt he was! I tried to get him to calm down, but at this point, I don't think I could have done all that much."

He then takes her to the corner of the kitchen and says, "I don't want the whole cast to think less of me... especially you," he says, looking at her straight in the eyes.

"Don't worry, Brent, I don't think less of you," she lies.

"Especially you", he repeats.

A pause. He stares at her. She shifts a little nervously.

"You know, I look directly into people's eyes..." says Brent. He gets closer.

"I know, I've noticed that", replies Andrea.

"Does it bother you? Tell me if it does," he insists. He puts a hand on her arm.

"That's fine, Brent, I don't mind", she says, looking at him, unsure of what to do.

He gets closer to her, runs his hand from her collar bone, tracing her breast, all the way to her belly button. This happens in one swift motion, too quick for Andrea to do anything. He is about to say something when...
Diana, the girlfriend, walks over. She whispers something in his ear and walks away.

"Uh oh", says Brent, "she's mad."

Andrea takes a massive step back.

"About what?" she snaps.

"Nothing", he says quickly.

It's obvious. Andrea leaves.

And now, let us go back to the living room.

I am there, playing jazz piano with a certain Sam, who teaches me the art of sounding good by simply banging on the black keys.
Ryan (another redhead) and I chat for awhile, Andrea takes pictures, and then we all assemble into someone's bedroom to a fun rendition of "Barrett's Privateers". After the song ends, Andrea and I take our leave.

I must say, I had a wonderful night. Andrea, however, can't say the same.

"There's going to be tension with the entire cast now", she laments, "well, then again, we always had tension, but it's different this time."

Ooh, ooh, can we say sexual tension?

But I'm not saying it.

New Plays - Night A

Bishop's University New Plays Festival: a festival of 9 plays over 6 days that are student written, student directed, and student performed.

The festival opened last night with Night A. I quite like the theme that the co-ordinators have thought of: acting is a trip. They also interpret it as "road trip" , so they had road signs all around the lobby and tons of maps. The co-ordinators introduced the plays with a small skit, talking about going through Audition-town and Rehearsal-ville (where everyone seemed to stay up late!) before getting to Performance-city. It was something like that. The co-ordinators looked like they were having fun with it, and it was entertaining.

The first play was Barrett's Privateers based all around the song, "Barrett's Privateers". The costumes were good, the singing was even better, but the plot line was weak. The actors and chorus members looked like they were having fun on stage, and they were quite good too, but I didn't feel much for the characters. The play definitely had potential, but it was one of those plays that just didn't quite make it there. I think Ryan, as Barrett, was one of the best ones in the play.

After intermission, it was time for some good ol' girl problems with The Lament of Edina Kiraly. It was directed by a male, Niall, to be exact. He is creepy looking, but there is something about him that is also friendly. We talked about pizza and piano the other evening, though I have noticed that he is distracted easily. Anyway, I digress.
There are three girls in the play, all of them were played exceptionally well. Really, the acting was superb. There was Neve, the nerdy peace-maker; Mila, the sarcastic mean one, and Ginger, the bubbly and emotional third roommate. The play was rough around the edges, but the characters were extremely well-defined and definitely well-played. Congrats to Rachel, Eva, and Rebecca.

It Happened in the Other Room wrapped up the evening. This comedic play, written by an all-around funny guy, Chris Brodie, was a huge hit with the audience. The humour is quite slapstick; there is even a slip on a banana peal. Before you all begin thinking that it is beyond cheesy humour, don't even go there, homies. It is very funny, and the best part about it is that Andrea got to play a total slut. She had a blast with that role.
I liked the fact that there were three guys, three girls, and they all had a pair: business associates, married couple, and two young people having sex. And yes, before you ask, one of the two young people was Andrea.
The business associates were harried; the married couple always had petty fights; and the two young people couldn't keep their hands off of each other.
It was a hilarious play, well-written, with a lot of classic comedy tricks. I must say, Brent did a pretty good job as director.

The night ended with a lovely wine and cheese, in honour of opening night. I ate some pineapple, grapes, and some cheese of course, before Paula left to buy toothpaste.

People were trickling out, heading to the Opening Night party at Brent's place, which is above the Butcher's shop. Andrea and I wanted to be fashionably late, so we drank an Iced Cappuccino, whilst sitting on the curb by the Esso. It is our favourite spot to sit and talk.
We finished our drink, and we both said simultaneously, "Party, here we come!"

So, we went.

Be For Real

Goodness gosh golly gee, do I ever love theatre.

Chris Brodie and I discovered our bond today: our red hair, our face full of freckles, and our birthdays only two days apart (as well as being both eighty fivers as well). I learned that in his fragile high school years, he converted from a jock to a wacky drama kid. Yup, this guy knows what he's doing.

I met this anglophone girl from Aylmer, called Steph.
Every time I mention that Alex is from Aylmer to an anglophone from Aylmer, they immediately ask me if he is French or English. When I say anglophone, they get all excited and ask what high school he went to. They always hope that they will know who he is. I've had the same experience with Jamie and another of Paula's friends. It is obvious that the Aylmer anglophones are dying out and are scrabbling to find the rest of their breed. That must explain their curious excitement.

Article

I wrote this on August 25th that I was thinking of writing to the Chesterville Record as an editorial. It was agreeing with another Chesterville resident's view on the slaughterhouse that may replace the Nestlé's plant in Chesterville. It is simply a rough draft, and despite encouragement from my Dad to send it, I never did get around to it.

Re: This job solution just plain stinks

I wholeheartedly agree with Glenna Walkden, referring to her disgust at having a meat packing plant in the middle of Chesterville. This move will have such a detrimental affect on Chesterville and its residents. As much as we may become known as the slaughterhouse of Eastern Ontario, no one will ever want to come and visit, let alone live here. I have lived in Chesterville all of my life, and the one thing that I have always loved about small town living is the fact that I can smell clean, sweet air.

I understand why council would want another large company in the area, as we do want the revenue of our tax dollars. We do not want to become a ghost town, either. I just can't see how having a huge slaughterhouse right in our backyard would benefit anyone in Chesterville. How on earth are we supposed to entice anyone to come out here when we don't even want to be here ourselves

editor@chestervillerecord.com

As much as I can't imagine Chesterville without Nestlé's, I simply cannot fathom having the noise and the pestilential smell infiltrate into people's mornings, houses, clothes, backyards...

Have council really considered how much this may affect the town of Chesterville? In terms of every other considering except for money, I can't see many people being satisfied with this option. Has council asked the residents of Chesterville as to what they think? Let's work together on making Chesterville stay afloat; let's all help the town of Chesterville, as well as make living conditions here as favourable as possible. Do we want to wake up every morning with the smell of dead cows wafting under our noses or the noise of cattle being butchered? Let's keep this friendly community clean and enjoyable, so the Township can continue to "
offer a harmonious combination of urban and rural amenities that appeal to a wide variety of lifestyles"; I don't believe that slaughterhouses appeal to very many lifestyles.

I am also adamantly opposing this proposal, and I hope every other Chesterville resident feels the same. Kudos to you, Mrs. Walkden, and I hope we can keep our clean, country air free of any odour and noise pollution.

Miranda Glen
Chesterville

And you know what else? Canada's first Nestlé's plant was established in Chesterville, Ontario in 1918.

Superfluous

And we keep coming back to this too.

How many hangers are there in the world? First, you look at a Reitmans, for instance, and you see the abundance of hangers that that specific store carries alone. Then, you think as to how many hangers are in the entire mall. Then, you think of the entire city. And then what about the number of hangers in the country? North America? The world?

That's when my head starts spinning. Has anyone else ever had the dream that everything in their dream is so full of stuff -- extremely large, too colourful, overcrowded and then you end up waking up in a cold sweat?

I have no idea what induces these dreams, but they happen to me every so often.

On another note, I am forgoing the Model UN Club for the Debating Club. Even though my colleague was a Model UN member in his tender youth, I prefer to stay away from such crazy shenanigans. No, it is not because I worry that I will be undateable but because there is no way that I can spend any amount of time with the President of that club.

Time (1)

I don't know why we keep coming back to this, but we do.

Andrea likes to imagine and think as to how many pictures she is in that she doesn't know about.

This is somewhat interesting, as there have been tons of pictures taken of you throughout your life, such as when you are simply in the background. There are also the ones taken at other kids' birthday parties, at the swimming pool, in your cradle, etc. There are also the pictures that may be floating around in different parts of the world, resulting from the one time you visited a particular country. And, of course, you may have tons of tourists in a number of your pictures too!

For example, Andrea had three pictures of me before we had actually met, which was summer 1999. In about 1989, Andrea's mother took a picture of a super cute, little girl at Upper Canada Village donned in 1860s apparel. That turned out to be me.

In about 1994, Andrea's Mom took a picture of Andrea going off the diving board at the Chesterville Pool. Guess who was the shivering, scrawny girl waiting in line behind her? Nine year old me, of course.

And again in 1997, Andrea's father took a picture of Martina and the other Young Interpreter girls at Upper Canada Village. As you may have guessed, one of those Younger Interpreters was I.

I think that's pretty neat. I remember watching an old home video, filmed during the summer of 1989 starring four-year old me, with my drooling baby brother as my sidekick. Then again, kicking and slobbering was all he could really do.

In that video, you see life in the day of my Mom and I going around Chesterville. Of course, Dad is there too, but he films the majority of it. If I recall correctly, I think I ask Dad at some point if I could film. Good thing he refused because that video camera was probably twice my weight and would have undoubtedly crushed me.

Anyway, Mom and I go to the swimming pool. I have floaties on and my Mom bobs around beside me. My Dad is sitting with my brother on a bench, just outside the pool. He films us splashing around.

I like to think of all the kids in that swimming pool; almost all of them were older than me. I'd put them at around twelve years old. If they were twelve in 1989, that means that they were born in 1977 and that means that they are 28 years old now! I think it's really neat to think about that. Those kids in that video have most likely moved away by now and are self-sufficient adults (let us hope). Maybe even some of them have kids. Maybe some of them bring their four-year olds to the swimming pool now too.

That's the neat, exciting, and frightening thing about time; it just keeps going and going. It's never new, it never gets old, and we can't get rid of it.

I can't wait to buy a house; it will be a haven of clocks, and my backyard will have sundials galore.

That may explain why my blog advertises ClockLink.

An MSN Account

I hop onto the school lab computers for a few minutes, to check my e-mail and to briefly chat on MSN. There is a guy sitting directly in front of me, and I can see that he is also using MSN. I swear I am not a nosey busy-body, but I happen to glance over at his computer screen and I can see the person's e-mail address to whom he is talking to; the window is maximized, so I can see it quite clearly.

He is chatting with Jordan -- a girl that I also have on my MSN and who is from Halifax. She will be moving here come winter. She is switching schools because her boyfriend goes here. She had been asking me ever since I came back to school if I knew who her boyfriend, Tommy, is and if I had ever seen him around. Well, just as fate would have it, Jordan's boyfriend is the one sitting directly in front of me.

I excitedly message her, telling her that her beau is right in front of me at the computer lab.

"That's so cool. Say hi to him!" she types.

Um. This guy only knows me as someone who keeps on staring at his computer screen, so I didn't feel all that comfortable introducing myself to him.

I type something like: "He doesn't know who I am. I can't just blurt out hi to someone I don't know."

She types a few infamous 'lol's and also a few 'hahahaaahaah's before typing, "Just say hi!" again.

I am debating whether or not to talk to him when I read his screen again. His chat window with Jordan is up, and I can see that he wrote, "Jordan, I am not turning around... I don't even know how many rows she is behind me!"

I stifle a laughter and stand up.

"Hi Tommy", I say to him. He turns around. "I'm the one who is sitting behind you and the one Jordan is talking about."

He lights up and looks relieved. "Oh, so you're the one!"

We laugh a little bit and talk about how we both were hesitant to talk to each other. He said he didn't want to end up introducing himself to the wrong person and then subsequently making a fool of himself. We laugh a little more and then properly introduce ourselves.

So yes, being the nosey busy-body that I am, I managed to find Jordan's boyfriend. And that's my story.

The stalker

I was having a strange, almost uncomfortable dream a few nights ago. Slowly, my dream was becoming infiltrated by this intermittent sound, and eventually I woke up, very restless. The noise didn't stop. Bleary-eyed, I stumbled out of bed and eventually realized that it was our doorbell ringing. I hear my two roommates, Sarah and Corina, whispering urgently outside my door. Groggily, I go out into the hall, and the girls immediately tell me they are sorry for this doorbell waking me up. Not seeing how it is their fault, I ask them what's going on.

Two weeks ago, Sarah hooked up with this Christian dude at a party. Apparently, she was mad at this other guy, so in spite she hooked up with Christian in retaliation. Christian is one of those so-called "bad boys", so really, he is the perfect guy to make any other guy jealous.

"So, it's Christian ringing the doorbell now", continues Sarah, sounding quite afraid. She turns to Corina, "I bet he's here for a bootie call."

Sarah runs frantically around the apartment; she looks terrified. We tip-toe up to the kitchen window, to see if we could see this Christian guy and see if anyone was with him. Sarah orders us to make as little noise as possible and not to turn on any lights. She wants to make it appear as though we are still asleep or not home.

Corina toys with the idea of telephoning the police. "I should tell Christian that I am going to phone the cops if he doesn't leave", she says, but both girls are way too scared to go downstairs to the door.

What I really want to do is go down and tell this stupid guy to go away. If he refused, I would take Corina's plan and threaten to call the police. I am not scared, though perhaps if I knew this dude I would be. I don't do anything, though, because the girls seem to be very set on the idea of pretending we are still asleep. The ringing, in the meantime, has not stopped. Every thirty seconds or so, he rings that damn doorbell. It is getting very irritating.

Maybe about ten or fifteen minutes later, it finally stops. We hear Christian get into a car and drive away. We are finally left in peace to sleep.

In the morning, Sarah shows me a note that Christian had left. He lamented how much he really wanted to see her that night but couldn't. He made it clear that he had come not once, but twice, to our apartment, wanting to see Sarah. He also adds that the second time he came, he had Ryan with him, which is also bad news, considering that he made a love declaration to Corina the other night. Both girls are fed up. We tell Sarah that she has got to get rid of Christian, since she is clearly not interested. Also, he's a major creep. She's concerned that she will sound like too much of a bitch if she coldly tells him to get lost for good. I tell her that's what this guy needs. He's not going to get hints; she has to be blatantly obvious.

I, on the other hand, have a good time telling this story to various people. Alex thought it was brilliant. Tom, from my play, thought it was really creepy. I just think that it's a great story.

Living vicariously is where I get all my kicks, after all.

Perpetual

The Frosh week binge drinking never gets old, and why should it? Every year, a new batch of innocent students are eagerly awaiting their turn to experience drunken debauchery. It will never end. Someone is always turning eighteen, someone is always entering into college, and someone is always looking for free sex.

Alcohol is entertaining; it's social, and it's something to do. It can make you bolder and more excited, but the main thing about it is that you can escape from yourself for a little while. You can skirt some responsibilities. It's like a dream... you can do whatever you want in a dream. And haven't we all thought of what we would do if there were only three days left before the world would be completely obliterated? What is the excitement in that? It's the fact that you could do whatever the hell you want without consequence. Sure, we all have that spot in our hearts where we store empathy, but we all, just the same, have that tiny spot in us where we want to do whatever we want, regardless of rules or regardless of what certain people would think or do. It's kind of funny - we always have this constant battle with ourselves. And, honestly now, we actually do need a balance of the two. We have to do things for ourselves, but we equally must take other people into consideration. For many of us, we like doing both, so we just have to make sure it is balanced properly.

On other note (this relates little to my previous paragraphs), I sometimes feel as if I am not being fair to others. I know I am a supportive friend, but I also know that I can be insensitive without really knowing. As Amanda points out, I sometimes just walk away without saying goodbye or anything. Or sometimes I do not realize the importance of a specific phone call or a specific way someone said something. It is not just with my friends - I think it is in general. It is really important for me to make someone else happy; that's what makes me the happiest. What is better than be surrounded by happy and satisfied people? I do not want my actions to take a negative toll on someone else's life. If I am bringing you down, then there is something wrong in our entire relationship equation.

I can be very sarcastic and dry, and over-emotional and whiny people can drive me up the wall. The thing is, I am an emotional person myself, and I have many feelings and thoughts; I just don't let them overrule my life. That can be dangerous.

Nevertheless, I am really attracted to those who speak their mind and say what and how they are feeling. There is quite an obvious line, however, between the ones who say how they feel and act accordingly, rather than those who just whine and whine and bring you down with them. You just have to be around people who bring you up, not down, and you in turn will do the same. That's what I always look for in any kind of relationship -- someone who can challenge me and will keep me on my toes. These are the kind of people who make life interesting; the ones who can not only make me think but who can also make me dream.

In general, I am not a very touchy-feely person, and I do not like that much public affection. It is only when you enter my inner shell that I can't stop touching you. Or, wait... maybe that's just the Beans. Anyway, my outer shell is dead easy to break; it is the inner shell that requires a little more time and work or perhaps just some really good red wine. Oh, but who really knows. Only once that inside shell is shattered... only then will I become the one who can't stop slapping, caressing, or simply touching you!

Now for the usual unrelated-end-of-blog-entry kicker: I invite you all to download songs from Aretha Franklin's Queen of Soul collection.

Finally - a male strip club adventure!

After searching high and low for a male strip club, we were finally informed that the 281 were doing a tour and that one of their stops included Sherbrooke. Naturally, Andrea and I were very pumped. We managed to drag Paula along; unfortunately, Anna was not able to come.

I arrived at the Granada Theatre before the other two, so I secured us a table labelled "Reserved" which I pretended that I could sit at. I sat there alone for awhile, anxiously waiting for the other two girls. I soon learned that this show was for girls-only.

After only about one minute after the girls got there, we were ousted from our seats by a techie. He said that the table was reserved for staff. So, we took our chairs and found places even closer the stage.

Now, as for the male strippers... I just don't know where to begin! It was a real show, with plentiful costumes, lights, set, and even a 281 backdrop. The show lasted nearly three hours, with a considerably long intermission -- intermission was the opportunity for women to take a polaroid picture with the nine topless men.

Highlights of the show included a rendition of Saturday Night Fever, a pair of motorcyclists, the Phantom of the Opera (why couldn't I have been Christine?!), and a few solo acts. There were also lumberjacks with their chainsaws, car racers with their checkered flags, and firemen with their hoses. One of my favourite acts was the one where the one guy kept on switching costumes. He went from Usher, to a SWAT member, to a dude from the navy. I was drooling profusely when he became a gorgeous navy officer. It can't only be my weakness, can it?

There were also a number of funny skits; the car racers were pretty amusing, as well an act done in tutus. Also, Andrea, Paula, and I had a good laugh at the sandy-haired surfboarder, who basically made love to his surfboard. I also really enjoyed the number with the guy having a bath. For his number, cheesy love songs were played, but did they ever set the mood! It was a very sensual number, very different from the coarse and inappropriate acts of the motorcyclists. The bath guy came on stage with a bottle of champagne, sporting nothing but a white robe. He slowly took it off and revealed a small white towel wrapped around his waist. He slowly got into the rustic bath and within seconds, he stripped off his white towel and chucked it to the side. The girls in the audience went wild; we couldn't see anything, but it was implied that he was wearing nought.
He then took the champagne bottle and slowly began shaking it. We could only see the top half of the bottle. The music became more climatic. He then started to stroke the neck of the bottle, up and down, up and down, until finally, the champagne exploded everywhere. We giggled.

After awhile he stood up, and to everyone's dismay, he still had on a tiny underwear thing on. He then proceeded to pour the champagne down his body, over his crotch, and into a champagne glass. He filled three of these glasses and gave them to three "lucky" girls in the audience. Needless to say, Paula, Andrea, and I weren't all that keen to get some crotch-Champagne.

All in all, it was a very good night -- the 281 puts on an excellent show! I recommend it to anyone; it was definitely not nearly as sleazy as I originally had thought.

In other news, I invite everyone to check this out: www.freewebs.com/egglaunchers. It's information about my brother's movies. Everyone who attended the Premiere will know what it's all about.

Premiere Pictures

A hint of mint

So, I moved in yesterday late afternoon/evening. Alex, Dad, and Gigs were a big help for the entire moving-in process. They built everything for me. I don't know what I would have done with a horizonal desk.
Now the real question is: who am I going to take incriminating pictures of now that I'm away from my colleague? It also becomes difficult to slap someone when they are not in your immediate distance. Alas.

On another note, I am pretty angry at myself for not copying my folder from work properly. I had so many good documents on there. As soon as I am back, I will go to the Township because I am about 85% sure that they are not deleted off of the computer, and they will not be deleted in the meantime. I should probably give Mark a call. The beginning part of the second part of the Jesus write-up is in that folder. Oh sorrow, oh woe. I suppose I shall re-write it, and, as my brother says, "you can do it even better."

I think I'm either going to join the Debating Society or the Bishop's Model United Nations Club. Then again, it all depends whether drama pans out or not.

The Premiere

On the morning of the premiere, I am awoken to the sound of the phone ringing. It is none other than my brother, worried out of his mind because the movies won't copy to a DVD. He tried in vain until two in the morning the night before at this computer guy's house. I tell him that I can't help him all that much, but Alex may be able to. He talks to Alex for a bit, and Alex is almost one hundred percent sure that his laptop will be able to run the movies on the projector.

Also note that I received the same e-mail from my brother in two of my accounts with "ZAZA !!! HELP !!! - I hope this grabs your attention!" as the subject. After carefully planning this premiere night for weeks now, you can understand why my brother was so worried. After setting up my computer, Alex and I head back home, with his trusty laptop in tow.

We immediately go into the backyard. My brother, Brayden, and Adam (the co-ordinators of the event) are already decked out in their finest -- black suits, fancy shirts, ties, shades, top hats, and, in my brother's case, a pocket watch. This is, after all, supposed to be a fancy event. They are unsure as to how many people will actually dress up.

In less than a minute, Alex's laptop is set up and ready to go. Everything works. My brother is relieved; the panic is over.

I help Franziska with her hair, and then I myself get ready. Naturally, I look smashing in my $6 North Carolina second-hand store find. This is what my ultra-original dress looks like.

The food was coming out, we were greeting people, and everything was going smoothly. My friends all came, and we were chatting. As we talked, more and more and even MORE kids showed up! I was completely surprised as to how many people came! And the most surprising thing of it all? Everyone had dressed up! All you could see were swarms of black suits and slinky dresses. Even my mother had on her Victorian dress. Everyone looked fabulous!

After a delightful meal, we all sat down to watch the movies. The movies went over extremely well, though the sound was a little off. Hats off to everyone who helped out with the movies, especially to Baba, Brayden, and Adam. All of the girls were flocking around the three of them after the movies ended. Actually, there were far more girls at the Premiere than guys. I had a healthy balance of both sexes, but my brother's friends mainly seem to be female. Before you ask... no, he still hasn't taken an interest in them.

After all of my brother's friends had left, my friends and I took our refuge around the campfire. Baba and my Dad soon went to bed, and at around twelve thirty there was only Steve, Karim, Brendan, Alex, Colleen, Adam, and I still out. We stayed around the campfire until we let the fire out.

At around two o'clock, we all moseyed back to the food table. We soon regained our energy when we began rammaging through all of the half-eaten, and, in some lucky cases, uneatened food. To bums like us, it was heaven. We all got really giddy, even if the unopened coffee cake was littered with raisins. Even though I was quite hyper, I shooed everyone out of the house at three o'clock. Adam took home a shrimp ring. Steve took home a full box of chocolate pudding sundaes. We all went to sleep quite happy.

All in all, the Premiere was a huge success. A DVD copy of The Hand will be made quite soon.

The movies played were:

Teddy Bear Picnic (a short)
Teddy Bear Picnic Sequel (a short)
The Room (preview)
The Tea Room (preview)
The Hand (feature presentation)

Hopefully, I will upload some Premiere pictures in the next few days.

Miscommunication

How does one receive a bandaid after specifically requesting for mayonnaise?

That's what happened to me tonight at Outbacks -- the waiter thought I had said bandaid. You can imagine my confusion when he showed up with this little piece of plastic paper. I didn't say anything. But, honestly now, mayonnaise and bandaid are two very distinct words. Besides, we were at a restaurant, not a health clinic.
After asking for mayonnaise, the waiter apparently said, "oh, a bandaid?" and I had said yes. I was sure he had said mayonnaise. And I am one hundred percent that I had said mayonnaise too. Something fell through in the communication here.

Summer working is finished! I must say that it passed rather quickly. As much as I did enjoy my job, I am very much enjoying this glorious week off. I really do love sleeping in, especially when sleeping in means waking up at any time and leisurely making banana and chocolate crepes. Delicious!

I am now slowly gearing up for school. Actually, my preparation happens in spurts. I just got a desk, a chair, and a lamp for my new room from trusty IKEA. I also have a few posters that are ready to go up, and I am naturally loaded up with tons of stationery, pens, sticky notes, and the like, courtesy of so-called dishonesty. Cackle. Cackle.

Important upcoming events:
Thursday -- my brother's Premiere of The Hand (please, no references to Idle Hands) and other short movies. Everyone attending should dress accordingly.

Sunday -- my move to Bishop's University. Let's just say that the negativity (that Andrea is subjected to every year) has started leaking out, and my roommates are destined to be major fluff girls, and nothing will work out. The end.

Tuesday -- I will live the "ultimate experience of sensuality and virility" of eight erotic, naked, and possibly lubed up men at the Granada Theatre in Sherbrooke. I invite anyone interested to come and join us. Trust me, once you check out the site, you won't be able to stop yourselves from coming (in every conceivable way). Many thanks go out to Effovex for the information.

In other news, we filmed a zombie movie. Alex seemed fairly pleased with it, so we'll see how it all turns out. We had quite a good time filming it, despite the cornfield which launched my body into allergy mode.