Nineteen
Hey y'all. This is for my theatre project. Don't mind me.

(I also know that it is currently 6 a.m. Stupid night rehearsals x[ )

It's just the only journal I can get to right now.

Ahem

[My goal for this show was to apply Commedia del' Arte characteristics to each of my three characters - to have them move only in specific, extreme ways tied to their characterization, and keep this movement consistent. When I say "extreme," I mean that the characters must be very over-the-top and their movements obvious - I mean, the opposite of subtle characterization.

[However, I face also the challenge of keeping the characters within the limits of a chorus group; they cannot be so over-the-top as to distract from the main characters or from the plot, and my characterization of each character must include the movements in each choreography, for example.

[So far, that has been my most major challenge. For the most part, I am able to keep foot positions I assign to each character - third position for my Munchkin, straight feet with bent knees for my Winky, and Egyptian-type poses for my Emerald Citizen - during the choreographies and songs. I have no trouble maintaining these during spoken segments of the show. The trouble has shown itself when I strive to keep my hands, arms, and back posture in line with the characterization of each persona during a choreography, when every member of the chorus must be more or less in sync and move in more or less the same way. Movement in Commedia del' Arte is most significant in characterization: if two characters in a Commedia play move very similarly, they are probably the same type of stock character. I might even go so far as to say that they are, to some extent, the same character.

[In the movement of the upper body is where I face the most difficulty, then. If all my characters have different leg positions, but the same posture and arms, then they are, in the essence of Commedia, the same character, or similar characters.

[The Munchkin is full of attitude and is very upbeat.

[The Winky is caged, trapped, worrisome, and a hard worker by necessity.

[The Citizen of Oz wears a mask of pride but truly feels empty for most of the show.

[These are not the same characters.

[Throughout the next week or so, during night rehearsals, I will be playing with new ways of physically expressing these characterizations with my arms and upper body that will both differentiate the characters and fit with the chorus in equal proportions.]

Whew! Not bad for somebody who didn't get home until 9:30 p.m., eh? (And then woke up at 5:30. It was COLD)
Nineteen
This is way too amazingly unbelievable to put into words.

Nineteen
Okay, I feel better now.

Just a little update.

Okay bai
Nineteen
Hot ka-friggin' damn. I have to take the drat-blasted SATs again. Friggin' shit. You know how I did on my critical reading? 99%. Ninety-friggin-nine freaking percent! That's almost perfect. ALMOST FRIGGIN' PERFECT! You have any idea how proud I am of that?

You know how I did on my writing and reasoning and shit? 97%. A FREAKING NINETY HOT DAMN SEVEN. So why the hell in a friggin' handbasket am I not jumping for friggin' joy over here?

You know how I did on my friggin' hell-or-high-water math section?

77%.

7 7 %

A HOT DAMN FRIGGIN SEVENTY FREAKING SEVEN. THAT IS FAILING. THAT IS FLUNKING. THAT IS THE LOWEST SCORE I'VE EVER GOTTEN ON A MATH TEST.

That's like a 616 or something. Last time I took the SATs I got a 600. AND LAST TIME I TOOK THIS TEST I WAS IN THE EIGHTH FREAKING GRADE.

EIGHTH GRADE. Eighth grade! Eighth grade, I didn't know half the math, I practically did BETTER than I did my hot-damn junior friggin year. Especially considering inflation and conversion and that hella shit shit.

My friggin' essay actually went down, you know something? It went DOWN. From a 10 to an 8, three hella shit years later. Hot ka-holy friggin' damn shit. Sorry for ruining the beautiful friggin' picture of me y'all have in your heads of this nice blonde girl who spazzes out sometimes but never friggin' curses. Hot damn. I'm real sorry.

You know what you can't do to make up for a score on the general test? You can't take a hot-damn subject test is the hella shit you can't do. No, you hafta take the entire hot-damn hell-or-high-water friggin' general test all over again.

Three more hella shit hours out of your friggin' life because you can't take the hot-damn hell friggin' shit subject test to make up for a bad friggin' day of math. One friggin' bad day of math in your friggin' life and you have to pay again and colleges see it. You know that? They will know that I did this badly and had to take the hot-damn hella shit piss test again. You know what it says when you hafta take the friggin' SATs twice? And your mom's in the next room telling you it means you friggin' know your friggin' limits and crap, and know that some shit was going on that day and you can do it friggin' better than you did.

But you know what I think?

I think what colleges see is that you needed another year of studying on the stupid everything section of the stupid hot-damn test because you're so remedial you got a hot-damn 77% on math and you dropped your essay score from when you took the hella friggin' shit test in the friggin' eighth grade, because you can't pay any attention in hella shit ENGLISH CLASS and even though you're a junior you get stuck on the most basic friggin' hot-damn MATH problems so you don't have time to finish the hot-damn fifteen questions at the end!

HOT DAMN HELLA SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIIIIIT.

Great. So now I have to go to a friggin' hell-in-a-handbasket friggin' TUTOR to tell me how to go through the hot-damn test friggin' BOOKLET and locate all the problems that are remedial enough that I can friggin' do them without spraining my cerebrum and then go back to the "hard" hot-damn problems later. I hafta go learn how to PACE MYfriggin'SELF.

You know what colleges let you in with a score of 600 whatthefreakingever in math? NONE OF THEM.

NO FRIGGIN' COLLEGE IN THE COUNTRY THAT I WANT TO ATTEND WILL ACCEPT THAT MATH SCORE.

EVEN AGAINST A NINETY-FRIGGIN-HELLA-SHIT-NINE IN CRITICAL FREAKING READING.



...You know what I see,
when I look at my high school report card?

A line of A's.

You know what I don't see?

A single B.

Since Freshman year.

All A's, all the time.

Last semester I got an A-.
I still wound up third in the class.

All A's, all the time...

Even in math. Even in chemistry.

And now this.



You know what the worst of this is?

...How the hell am I ever going to top a 99% in critical reading?

What if I go down...

Straight A's since fourth grade. Since they started giving letter grades. Straight A's... and now I have to retake the SAT. Now I have to go to a tutor for test-taking, which was never before a problem...

What are admissions officers at colleges going to say? "Look at this girl. Brilliant GPA, third in her class, A's all around... with an SAT math score like that. At least she retook it."

I don't want to have an SAT score "like that". No way. I know I am better than that score.

So of course I'll retake the test and actually study this time, and go to a tutor for test-taking skills...

I can't retake it until next fall...

So there's no point in stressing about it now, right?...

Right...

...So why do I feel like crying?

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Nineteen
Today was awesome - that is, at the very least, 80%. But I feel like it was actually more than that - much closer to 90%, or even, I might venture, to 95% - if one disregards the general cluelessness of me.

Just a few
notes before my head hits the pillow:

The jug of wine and loaf of bread are highly overrated;
A drink of water and of thou 's enough to keep me sated!

Poem :)

Also: Secondhand chocolate is some awesome stuff. Keep it coming!

<3

Happy Arizona Is A State Day

Happy Various Asian Groups New Year

G'night.
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Nineteen
This day was not quite as BLEHHH as was yesterday, but it still merits a little, protesting meh.

English was fine. Nothing major to report.

In TOK, we had a sub, so we watched this video on rational thought during the Renaissance. It mentioned Arabs! So I was happy.

In Psych, I still didn't present, but there was a very interesting presentation and a discussion all about whether it is okay to pressure your child into doing activities that are "normal" for children of the child's gender.

This comment right here has no merit or place in this post! There was no point to its being written or to your reading it.

Think about that for a minute. Do it!

In Spanish, rather than studying Chapter 5 like maybe I should have, I drew A.M.N.'s picture like I've been promising for a week. Catwoman. Hoping to have a copy soon... And I also got this really odd headache, not a migraine, but a headache, and not behind the eyes, either, but on the back of my head, like my scalp... it was bizarre.

Speech class saw les Duo'ers (that is FRENCH, my friend!) in the sub-basement and we watched pieces. And I worked on A.M.N.'s drawing... while still having that stupid headache. Fortunately I remembered the right pressure point in my hand and was able to make it go away a bit. Then I ate stuff.

Lunch was yeah. Eating, talking, pantsing some Asians (well, okay, one Mongolian. Hey! B.M.B.! You know who you are! Stop whining, you were wearing leggings le whole time!) And my headache temporarily abated again, which was nice.

Oh! I forgot to mention that today was "Back in the Day" Day for Spirit Week, so I wore my mom's old 80's designer dress. Yes, my mom actually PAID for the privelege of wearing this thing. Here is a picture.

Ohhhhhyesthatisvoluptuous. XD

For Biology, Mr. S was gone, so we had that old, balding sub, who let us do whatever. So I started reading the cardiovascular chapter. I figure this is probably my chance to get ahead...

I feel really ready for tomorrow's maths test and I super duper hope that doesn't change. Especially not in the middle of tomorrow's maths test. So I finished A.M.N.'s drawing and sleepwalked to and from my locker. STUPID HEADACHE. GO DIE IN A HOLE.

And in Theatre I really need to work on my lines but I am more memorized than many people in my group...

And Wiz let out early. After good solid character work.

Looking back, it was not a bad day. Just this stupid headache (which has returned, preventing me from chatting with my beloved N.L.N.). CURSE YOU, MOM-DUBBED TENSION HEADACHE. CURSE. YOU.

Oh! I used "Fnord" today as a curse word and felt happy inside.

...So what's on my mind? Well, Yahoo! has informed me that Megan Fox does, in fact, have an unattractive bone in her body. Her right thumb. And you know what? I feel a lot better about her now. And screw the Motorola company that hired a hand model instead of letting Fox deal with the phone herself.

Also, in case you were wondering, shot number 25 of Lindsey Vonn in the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue is the best one because a) she has skis; b) she is not wearing anything too darn ridiculous; c) she looks happy and in control; and d) the color scheme is clear, simple, and visually pleasing.

Finally, a tribute to Sarah Palin, acting as eloquently as only she can.

Woo. Go, Yahoo!.

Alright, enough talking about various American female role model types. Time for homework, shower, and bed - what a chat-deprived girl I will be this evening! *Sadness of mild despair*
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Nineteen
...And rather difficult to explain.

You see, E.Y.M.S.M. and I had a Speech and Debate tournament this last Saturday.

And we conquered.

I mean, conquered. Like, you don't even know. Our highest scores ever. In our three guaranteed rounds, I mean the ones we actually DID... we got one first place and two seconds.

Do you understand what I am saying? Are you listening to the melodic sound of my voice as the words come pouring forth from between my lips?

WE COULD HAVE MADE IT TO FINALS.

IN FACT, TECHNICALLY, WE DID.

But due to a posting error and a posting reading error (Hey, Erin could have checked me, okay?), we did round 2 in the wrong room. This, coupled with the fact that the team from George that was SUPPOSED to be in that room didn't come in until late because 50% of them was sick... so by the time they came in claiming to be the ACTUAL 3A, we had just gone. Actually.

So we tear off to postings, right, and tear up to our proper room. And we're just going to say, "Hey, our bad, we're sorry, hope you didn't wait for us, bye!" But when we came in the judge was like, "Oh. Well, you're the last group. Are you okay to go?" And we didn't know what the hell to do! So we went again!

*FACEPALM*

So we just ran around freaking DSA, and we had just done our piece, so none of it felt right, and to make matters worse, the Three Amigos were sitting there with this look on their faces - that is, the 50% of them I saw - that just SCREAMED that he thought we were inferior. And it was hot, and we had just run all over the place, and we were tired, and we failed.

Miserably.

And then, long story short, we explained our situation to the tab room lady, who said she empathized and would take our highest score from second round if it fit in with our other rounds. But she lied. Majorly. And screwed us over, counting our 4 instead of our ONE.

So we were completely screwed over and I was so pissed off when I saw these ballots today that I went to the end of the history hallway and sprinted from there to the vending machines by the bathroom, careened around a corner, and shoved my way through the doors and into the freezing, snowy air.

Why is it always cold and snowy when I decide to let off steam in this way?

...Come to think of it, why is it always the Tuesday before Valentine's Day when it is always cold and snowy and I decide to let off steam this way? o.O Weird. It must be the Mayans...

Fnord.

Anyway, I tried to wait until the hallway was clear, but at one point I just HAD to run, you know? So I tore off down the hall and there were these three tall guys - not just tall, but big too, you know? - and they heard me coming, because I was certainly going to no lengths to be dainty. No sir, I was stampeding my way down that linoleum hallway. So one turns around and says, "No running in the halls!" You know, being funny or whatever. Whatever. But I was moving too fast, and anyway I was in no frame of mind to listen to him, haha, whatever, so I shot past them and that's when I careened and whatnot.

And as I was shoving my way out the door, I heard another one say, "Damn! That girl should be on track!"

Which made me feel kinda good until I remembered again why I was upset and running in the first place.

BLEHHHH

But then J.Siggs came outside and helped me out, and I know E. and I are going to PWN all of them at State (I don't care if I used that wrong, I just don't care)...

Besides, on a happier note, I did place fourth overall with my solo humor piece, which I had hardly prepared. So that was funny ^.^ Yeah, this one judge wrote "Great play with the accents. I can tell you've really worked on this." and it cracked me up like none other.

But still. STILL. I think we have SUCH a right to be pissed off.

But it's kinda okay, cuz I have this plan for REVENGEEEE.....

Muhuahahaha.

Math test tomorrow. 'Ta!
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Nineteen
My cat's new favorite cat toy:

Black jelly beans.

They want to take over the world.

And now back to our regularly scheduled homework.
Nineteen
ADRENALINE CRASH HARDCORE. MEHHHHHHHHHH IT'S ONLY MONDAY.

MEHHHHHHHBED