My Florid queen!
April 19th, 2005Arg, mile. Doom. Destruction. The end. That basically summarizes it. I ran, I hurt, and I huccuped. Yes, I hiccuped. After I finished the mile, I started to hiccup, and this wasn’t any ordinary hiccup. No, this made me hiccup every 10-15 seconds or so. For an hour and a half. It was fairly amusing during history though, when we were taking a test and every few seconds I would hiccup, hear Irene laughing, start laughing myself, and my hiccups proceeded to get high and squeaky. They stopped after school, but came back and stayed with me until I fell asleep. My diaphragm hurts.
I think our Theatre group is being way to harsh on our student director, Ali. Everyone is attacking him during rehearsal for having an idea for the play that is slightly different than the cast’s. Most people think that he doesn’t know how to do his job, but let me remind everyone that this is the first thing he’s directed, and it’s not as easy as Mr. Small makes it look. Also, don’t criticize someone’s directing ability before we’ve even gotten to freeblocking. Let him try his own thing first so we can all get some sort of feel as to how the play is going to turn out, and then give suggestions to the director, keeping in mind that there are more than one correct way to put on a play, and that it’s the director’s job to decide which way he wants to do it.
In closing, I just don’t know why we can’t all be a bit more like the Gilmore Girls. We need a lot more hugging, a bit more shrugging off our problems, and a whole lot more talking about our feeli… Ok, we need a whole lot more talking.
#m
