For the 10th Anniversary week (which was cut short thanks to Pres. Day on Monday) there were a lot of nice and hectic events happening. Tuesday wasn't all that bad (it was quite regular, all things considered). Wednesday Juniors had an "academic assembly" where our counselors talked about which classes we needed to consider next year (not like I needed the talk).
Thursday was the first of two celebrations. For some reason, 5th period was taken out so we only had three classes and then a school assembly in the gym (which was actually one of the better ones this year). Also, we had an alumni (goes to NYU for film making) come talk and be all sexy like. Seriously. He had the entire art class swooning when he came and talked with us about shite (and managed to make me stutter; you have no idea how rare that is).
Friday was more or less a regular day. Everyone involved in Les Miserables (which happens to be the first highschool production of the show) was tired and falling asleep in their classes. Sis and I stayed after school so we could help with the gala banquet before the night's show. So, dad swung by the school to pick up our backpacks and such, and brought me a change of clothes (white pants, black tux shirt, white bow tie) so that I wouldn't look grungy. Went to the banquet room where the caterer (and an admittedly cute son) were setting up the food. Initially I was supposed to assist with the coffee and such... but they never got any actual coffee. Instead, I became a cake cutter.
Now, the cakes themselves deserve their own paragraph. There were eight of them. Three were vanilla cakes with fruit inside, but they weren't really good. The other five though... Mmph! All had chocolate and glass-sugar sculptures on top (something that I'm just beginning to get the hang of making) (yes, as Rachel said: "Chuck, you're so gay.") and the five different insignas for each general major. The art cake went away first (german double-chocolate cake), with the international studies cake (chocolate cake with banana) and the dance cake (tiramisu minus the Kaluhua) were half devoured. The other two remained untouched.
Oh, and they had amazing chocolate truffles shaped like sea shells and roses on top. Exquisite taste.
Then, us volunteers helped to escort the VIPs to the theater, which we did (not much else to say there). So, we went into the theater because we were allowed to watch the show for free, but we had to stay in the very back of the room. Luckily, Christine's boss moved to the back section so she could sit with her friends so there were two vacant seats in the lower sections. Christine jumped up, and I followed.
We ended up sitting almost directly behind Mr. Jackson (club advisor) and was scared that he'd be ticked that we weren't sitting in the back, but he really didn't care much. Karen and Justin were in the same section, and halfway through Mr. Gerye's hour-long speech (where he gave just about every single person ever to step into his office a plaque) Karen noticed that I was three people away.
Christine and I were sitting next to another colleague of hers; he works at CLASS magazine as the art director. And then they had this humorous conversation:
him: So Christine, is he your boyfriend?
Chr: Noo... he's just a friend. A gay friend.
Well, I thought it was hilarious when she told me later that night. Could also be the fact that the guy was setting off my gaydar big-time.
The show was awesome, but it didn't end till almost 11:00pm. Everyone was tired and complaining because the show normally ended an hour previous. Ech. Oh, and Gavroache (sp?) couldn't sing, act, nor remember his cues. He constantly drove the orchestra insane by coming in three measures too early. Evil.
But everyone else was amazing. Although... you could completely tell who were choir majors instead of theatre majors.
And Karen.... Jean Valjean: Gun. Bang. Flare.
Saturday and Sunday I spent at home struggling with my self-portrait. Among other things.
Actually talked to Matt. Things are still ackward, but now I'm not so skeptical about his motives for reinitiating contact.
Although Sarah was right, he more or less invite himself to our birthday party (which will be about a month delayed).
Today was shite.
Everything was nice and mediocre. I perked up during lunch because the sky was impossibly blue today and I felt like running around a la Julie Andrews during the opening of the Sound of Music.
But I will never airbrush in the art room ever again. Mainly: my portrait's now ruined. Too many damned distractions, so I now have to start my face all over again. And possibly an entire half section of the damned thing. Friggin' A.
Came home, ate lunch, tried working on my AP homework but passed out due to exhaustion. Seriously passed out. I was sitting on a chair to keep from falling asleep, but I blacked out and found myself on the floor when I regained consciousness. Thankfully, sis and I decided to preserve our sanity/dignity and opted not to go to piano today.
Now that I'm awake again, I plan to airbrush the night away so that I don't have to bother with the damned thing till next year.
. . . . . posted:||10:48 PM . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .