Hibernation!
Er, yeah. Clearly, I'm not as dedicated to keeping up-to-date in here as I used to be. On the bright side of things, that just illustrates how busy and lively my life's become, and I'm all the better for it.
Overall grades are as follows:
Music: C
Performance Analysis: B+
Religions for Dummies: B
Basic Acting: A
Oedipus: A
Scenery Practicum: A
I'm quite satisfied with that, and I'm just thankful that damn music class is over and done with. Next semester should be even more productive, with no gen-eds to drag me down.
On the agenda for next semester:
-Jumping right into rehearsals for "How to Succeed".
-Taking 18 credits (danger, Will Robinson).
-Taking up alcoholism (that'll be a nice change of pace).
-Losing a social life, due to 2 mainstages, 18 credits, and resulting in the above action.
I watched Nip/Tuck last night. That show sucks all sorts of ass.
I'm in Chi-Town now, which is nice, although not blissful. Driving to the airport on saturday, it occured to me that I would normally be driving home to Georgia to spend a good three weeks there with the old crowd. Thinking this, I experienced this weird mix of relief, nostalgia, depression and indigestion, all at the same time. My original plan was to live here in Chicago next summer, but judging by the past week of activities, I don't think I could spend an entire three months here. Seeing as I don't know anybody and getting a summer job in the city is about as easy as threading a needle with your breasts, I'll most likely be living in either Harrisonburg or South Carolina, at my lakehouse. The latter would be pretty low-key, but it would afford me a really good opportunity to be able to zip back to Snellville should there be some sort of social function going down. Plus, I would be able to serve out the summer spending half the day lifeguarding and the other half alcoholically stumbling around on my dock in a drunken stupor, shooting at small woodland creatures with a pellet gun. Ahh, the joys of summer. But, that's still a long ways off. God willing I won't have to take a job at Target next summer (which would be easy to secure), as that's a lot like going back to the ex because you really, really want sex, but knowing that the ex has herpes. And the clap. And a host of pubic crabs, that infest and chew away at your very soul, forcing your life to become more and more torturous as the hours add up. Oh, god...I'm not even sure if I'm talking about Target anymore.
Overall grades are as follows:
Music: C
Performance Analysis: B+
Religions for Dummies: B
Basic Acting: A
Oedipus: A
Scenery Practicum: A
I'm quite satisfied with that, and I'm just thankful that damn music class is over and done with. Next semester should be even more productive, with no gen-eds to drag me down.
On the agenda for next semester:
-Jumping right into rehearsals for "How to Succeed".
-Taking 18 credits (danger, Will Robinson).
-Taking up alcoholism (that'll be a nice change of pace).
-Losing a social life, due to 2 mainstages, 18 credits, and resulting in the above action.
I watched Nip/Tuck last night. That show sucks all sorts of ass.
I'm in Chi-Town now, which is nice, although not blissful. Driving to the airport on saturday, it occured to me that I would normally be driving home to Georgia to spend a good three weeks there with the old crowd. Thinking this, I experienced this weird mix of relief, nostalgia, depression and indigestion, all at the same time. My original plan was to live here in Chicago next summer, but judging by the past week of activities, I don't think I could spend an entire three months here. Seeing as I don't know anybody and getting a summer job in the city is about as easy as threading a needle with your breasts, I'll most likely be living in either Harrisonburg or South Carolina, at my lakehouse. The latter would be pretty low-key, but it would afford me a really good opportunity to be able to zip back to Snellville should there be some sort of social function going down. Plus, I would be able to serve out the summer spending half the day lifeguarding and the other half alcoholically stumbling around on my dock in a drunken stupor, shooting at small woodland creatures with a pellet gun. Ahh, the joys of summer. But, that's still a long ways off. God willing I won't have to take a job at Target next summer (which would be easy to secure), as that's a lot like going back to the ex because you really, really want sex, but knowing that the ex has herpes. And the clap. And a host of pubic crabs, that infest and chew away at your very soul, forcing your life to become more and more torturous as the hours add up. Oh, god...I'm not even sure if I'm talking about Target anymore.