Cast party!
Whew. Wiped doesn't even cover it. After the cast party, I slept for about eleven hours.
It was great, I'll give you lot the rundown. We watched 'Rocky' (the tape of our performance-- we can't keep it, though, it has to be destroyed once we've all watched it and critiqued ourselves). We shouted at ourselves A LOT. We ate cocktail weenies (well, I didn't. No idea what's in them. I only eat hot dog-like foods if I know they're kosh), chocolate malted eggs, and an assortment of other party foods. I was one of the few people who didn't get as plastered as a set piece for 'Antigone'.
Then there was karaoke. I adore karaoke-- unfortunately, so do a lot of drunk folks what likes the country-western music. So after 'Summer Nights' (and my own renditions of Mary Wells' 'My Guy', 'It's Still Rock and Roll to Me', and Cher's 'Shoop Shoop Song' (I do a great Cher)), I headed into the other room to have adult conversation with some sober friends (and a couple of not so sober friends who wandered in and out).
We talked slash, which was good. Talked about the spring short play festival (I'll be making my directorial debut!). Talked. It was fun. We weren't even tired at two-whatever in the morning. Great time.
The party moved to a location more suitable for totally smashed hot-tubbing. I whipped out my eyeliner to paint a tattoo on our Frank's arm, 'for old times' sake' (I did it every night for the show). Then after a while, it was home again, home again. I didn't hot-tub. I didn't have a bathing suit, and I'm pretty prudish for a Rocky slut. Besides, the hot tub was really full.
I did get to see a (deep!) man-on-man kiss, though, which totally made my evening. Yay!
Anyway, that's pretty much it.
I have no idea how to sign off without sounding awkward.
Oh, well. It's not like a lot of people read this, right?
It was great, I'll give you lot the rundown. We watched 'Rocky' (the tape of our performance-- we can't keep it, though, it has to be destroyed once we've all watched it and critiqued ourselves). We shouted at ourselves A LOT. We ate cocktail weenies (well, I didn't. No idea what's in them. I only eat hot dog-like foods if I know they're kosh), chocolate malted eggs, and an assortment of other party foods. I was one of the few people who didn't get as plastered as a set piece for 'Antigone'.
Then there was karaoke. I adore karaoke-- unfortunately, so do a lot of drunk folks what likes the country-western music. So after 'Summer Nights' (and my own renditions of Mary Wells' 'My Guy', 'It's Still Rock and Roll to Me', and Cher's 'Shoop Shoop Song' (I do a great Cher)), I headed into the other room to have adult conversation with some sober friends (and a couple of not so sober friends who wandered in and out).
We talked slash, which was good. Talked about the spring short play festival (I'll be making my directorial debut!). Talked. It was fun. We weren't even tired at two-whatever in the morning. Great time.
The party moved to a location more suitable for totally smashed hot-tubbing. I whipped out my eyeliner to paint a tattoo on our Frank's arm, 'for old times' sake' (I did it every night for the show). Then after a while, it was home again, home again. I didn't hot-tub. I didn't have a bathing suit, and I'm pretty prudish for a Rocky slut. Besides, the hot tub was really full.
I did get to see a (deep!) man-on-man kiss, though, which totally made my evening. Yay!
Anyway, that's pretty much it.
I have no idea how to sign off without sounding awkward.
Oh, well. It's not like a lot of people read this, right?