opera, Baby's First FlashMob
~Opera went pretty well. It was weird to have such a fully realized production with all the bells and whistles be over in two performances. Many students were double cast and only got one shot. Ah, well. It's for educational purposes, and they can put it on their resumes no matter how short the run is.
~First day of Personal Assistant-ing ended up being a half day. Hopefully I can sort things out soon, so I can start doing some good. I think I'm going to have to learn MS Outlook, and maybe even Powerpoint, really really quickly.
~On Saturday, at 1:55pm, I roll up to LOVE park with my pillow in my backpack. At first I wonder how I'll know which part of the park the pillow fight is in. Then I see a bunch of hipsters and punky high schoolers (and at least one woman over 40) blatantly milling about with poofy plastic bags. Then some girl with piercings and blatantly dyed hair failed to play "charge" on the trumpet, and everybody went nuts. It lasted a half hour, with lulls/surges and a 30-second lie-down, and a guy (probably one of the main organizers) who wore a referee shirt at one point and handed out penalties, which just made him a target.
There were at least 100 people involved, especially if you include the spectators, and the photographers/videocammers. I mostly stayed out of the middle (read: mosh pit), and tried to avoid headshots and people bigger than me. There was some recklessness (whee, I'm an idiot who runs around hitting people as hard as I can in the head, whether they see me or not! then I'll soak my pillow in water!), and I had a bit of a headache afterwards, but no bloodshed. Many people (mostly tiny girls) complimented me on my sunglasses as they were hitting me. A few pillows got shredded, and I used a tiny Spider-Man leg to hit people on the head lightly with my left hand (sort of a rapier-and-dagger approach). Afterwards people helped clean up the fluff from the wrecked pillows, and I was interviewed on camera by the "referee." So I might be in a crappy documentary.
Then five minutes after everybody stopped, a bunch of tanned, shirtless and hairless hooligans roll up with pillow-bloodlust, swearing about "who wants to fight?" One had duct taped pillows to his hands as boxing gloves. We laughed at them.
It was rather fascinating. I wish I had brought friends along (but I've said enough about that already). And I ask you, what better activity was I supposed to spend my Saturday afternoon doing, in the 18 hours between opening night and closing night?
~First day of Personal Assistant-ing ended up being a half day. Hopefully I can sort things out soon, so I can start doing some good. I think I'm going to have to learn MS Outlook, and maybe even Powerpoint, really really quickly.
~On Saturday, at 1:55pm, I roll up to LOVE park with my pillow in my backpack. At first I wonder how I'll know which part of the park the pillow fight is in. Then I see a bunch of hipsters and punky high schoolers (and at least one woman over 40) blatantly milling about with poofy plastic bags. Then some girl with piercings and blatantly dyed hair failed to play "charge" on the trumpet, and everybody went nuts. It lasted a half hour, with lulls/surges and a 30-second lie-down, and a guy (probably one of the main organizers) who wore a referee shirt at one point and handed out penalties, which just made him a target.
There were at least 100 people involved, especially if you include the spectators, and the photographers/videocammers. I mostly stayed out of the middle (read: mosh pit), and tried to avoid headshots and people bigger than me. There was some recklessness (whee, I'm an idiot who runs around hitting people as hard as I can in the head, whether they see me or not! then I'll soak my pillow in water!), and I had a bit of a headache afterwards, but no bloodshed. Many people (mostly tiny girls) complimented me on my sunglasses as they were hitting me. A few pillows got shredded, and I used a tiny Spider-Man leg to hit people on the head lightly with my left hand (sort of a rapier-and-dagger approach). Afterwards people helped clean up the fluff from the wrecked pillows, and I was interviewed on camera by the "referee." So I might be in a crappy documentary.
Then five minutes after everybody stopped, a bunch of tanned, shirtless and hairless hooligans roll up with pillow-bloodlust, swearing about "who wants to fight?" One had duct taped pillows to his hands as boxing gloves. We laughed at them.
It was rather fascinating. I wish I had brought friends along (but I've said enough about that already). And I ask you, what better activity was I supposed to spend my Saturday afternoon doing, in the 18 hours between opening night and closing night?