(no subject)
Got straight A's this semester. :D Yaaaay!
Meisner looks like it's going to be awesome. I'm paired with David Pigott, which made me a little antsy at first, but Sean explained it.
"Pigott, you're used to just bowling people over onstage with your voice and your presence. You're not going to be able to do that to Hoppe. She's too strong of a presence, and she's relentless in that chair."
That made me feel proud.
More today, woo!
But, first, some more stuff from Intro to Fiction Writing.
Prompt: Write a description of a place that you clearly remember from childhood. I chose the front courtyard at Ridgewood Prep, my grammar school - or middle school, whatever you non-Louisiana people call it.
The courtyard is long and thin and reminds me of the basketball courts that I was never fast enough or athletic enough to be interested in. The plants that surround the concrete are meant to be a makeshift butterfly garden. They do their job well, but I've always found flocks of monarchs dancing around an expanse of cold concrete stained with my blood to be a smidge unsettling.
Benches line the edges of the courtyard, hard and a little painful. Some of them are set up around concrete tables with blue and gold checkerboards painted on them by the fifth grade art class. I've never seen them used for checkers. I've seen them used for paper football tournaments and a few lunchtime beatings, but never checkers.
What always throws me is the well. Its construction is haphazard; it almost seems like it was an afterthought. But it stands, proud and a little awkward, in front of the entrance to the much-hated gym. I can't ever remember there being any water in it, nor can I ever remember a time when the grey bucket wasn't filled with coke cans and cigarette butts, but I feel an unexplainable affinity for the well that's not really a well.
The chain link fences surrounding the courtyard are taller than they seem to be or should be. Thankfully, there's no barbed wire on the top, but the ends of the jagged links purposely left that way do the same job. "Try to get out. I dare you."
Mmkay. Gonna go get dressed and then head out to more Meeeeeisneeeeeer!
Meisner looks like it's going to be awesome. I'm paired with David Pigott, which made me a little antsy at first, but Sean explained it.
"Pigott, you're used to just bowling people over onstage with your voice and your presence. You're not going to be able to do that to Hoppe. She's too strong of a presence, and she's relentless in that chair."
That made me feel proud.
More today, woo!
But, first, some more stuff from Intro to Fiction Writing.
Prompt: Write a description of a place that you clearly remember from childhood. I chose the front courtyard at Ridgewood Prep, my grammar school - or middle school, whatever you non-Louisiana people call it.
The courtyard is long and thin and reminds me of the basketball courts that I was never fast enough or athletic enough to be interested in. The plants that surround the concrete are meant to be a makeshift butterfly garden. They do their job well, but I've always found flocks of monarchs dancing around an expanse of cold concrete stained with my blood to be a smidge unsettling.
Benches line the edges of the courtyard, hard and a little painful. Some of them are set up around concrete tables with blue and gold checkerboards painted on them by the fifth grade art class. I've never seen them used for checkers. I've seen them used for paper football tournaments and a few lunchtime beatings, but never checkers.
What always throws me is the well. Its construction is haphazard; it almost seems like it was an afterthought. But it stands, proud and a little awkward, in front of the entrance to the much-hated gym. I can't ever remember there being any water in it, nor can I ever remember a time when the grey bucket wasn't filled with coke cans and cigarette butts, but I feel an unexplainable affinity for the well that's not really a well.
The chain link fences surrounding the courtyard are taller than they seem to be or should be. Thankfully, there's no barbed wire on the top, but the ends of the jagged links purposely left that way do the same job. "Try to get out. I dare you."
Mmkay. Gonna go get dressed and then head out to more Meeeeeisneeeeeer!