The third show went okay-- we had a different musical director last night, so there were some tempo issues. My song was done at about half its normal speed, but from what I heard, it made it more cabaret-like. Pretty much everyone I know was there last night-- teachers, all three of my parents, the Redhead Brigade and our gay boyfriend, Aster, James, Laura, Ashley, Bridget, Skyler. I came home to a decorated door, my favorite flowers, and tiramisu, the best food ever. The show was a hit-- my mom liked it but requested that I get out of "that slut dress." Ahh, my mother. Best woman ever to have a mullet. We all came back to the apartment for pizza and heckling of The Grudge. We had company until 3:30, and we spent quality time watching infomercials.
Dear self: remember to take a camera tonight.
On a not good note, Mike's dad is very sick. He went into the hospital, and though he's expected to be released soon, Mike is no doubt very upset right now. I want to be there for him, but with all that's been going on, I feel like I'm groping through unfamiliar territory. It's hard to be with someone for years, to support them through the hard times, and suddenly not know what exactly your role is when something scary happens. So, there's that. He's coming tonight, as is Annabean. One more show.
Dear self: remember to take a camera tonight.
On a not good note, Mike's dad is very sick. He went into the hospital, and though he's expected to be released soon, Mike is no doubt very upset right now. I want to be there for him, but with all that's been going on, I feel like I'm groping through unfamiliar territory. It's hard to be with someone for years, to support them through the hard times, and suddenly not know what exactly your role is when something scary happens. So, there's that. He's coming tonight, as is Annabean. One more show.