The time change is messing with my head, I woke up today at 1 in the afternoon, and it’s now almost midnight and I can’t get to sleep.

Today was the last show of Cheaper and it’s weird, this is the only show where I walked away and didn’t feel upset. This show has been my life for the past two months, and now it’s over, but I cant seem to feel it. After the show today we started striking the set, which was standard procedure, get all the props off stage then start unscrewing things. I ended up working on the stairs with Kelsey and the youngest kids in the family. We spent about an hour on it while everybody else started eating the food that our director had brought for us. (He runs a barbecue business on the side.) We finally stopped when someone started asking the kids if they had eaten anything yet. We decided that it would be a good time to take a break. We sat and talked about various things for a while, while some other people finished taking down the set. Sherri (also in the show) started inviting people to the theatre prom, which is happening as my after prom party, and as an excuse for people to get together and party all night. Liz disappeared early on to make out with her boyfriend, and the theatre ran out of Dr Pepper (I did share my emergency stash, that I keep in my car, with Kelsey. That’s not to say that I keep both the stash and Kelsey in my car, but that I shared the stash with her.) The after strike party pretty much ended with a whimper, with people leaving one at a time, until everybody was gone. But the striking of the set did help to provide closure. (Unlike this post)

Also, if things work out right, Kelsey and I will go to the “teen” cast party this Saturday, and then a movie, possibly Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, or Jersey Girl. (Unless she wants something less chick-flickey)

Another also, Girl + power drill = WOW

The real American folksong is a rag
A mental jag
A rhythmic tonic for the chronic blues

The critics called it a "joke song" but now
They've changed their tune, and they like it, somehow

For it's innoculated with a syncopated sort of meter, sweeter
Than a classic strain, boy you can't remain, still or quiet, for it's a riot

The real American folksong
Is like a fountain of youth
You taste, and it elates you, and then, invigorates you
The real American folksong, the masses coaxed on, is a rag  ¶ 4/04/2004 11:54:00 PM