Awesome.

So finals in Boston were incredible. Reminiscent of Mr. Fredd, I will outline the days by means of bullets.

-Saw the President of the United States' vehicle. No lie. He was there.
-Took pictures of secret service men and any odd pedestrian who may have been a "plain clothes" secret service man from the window of room 527.
-Found Lifesavers Pastel jellybeans in a 2 story CVS.
-Purchased said jellybeans.
-Embraced the fact that the window in our room opened wider than ANYONE else's window, and slept with it open, daring any pigeon to roost in our room whilst we were sleeping.
-Meandered around Boston in the morning, a truly magical city time. New York may be the city that never sleeps, but Boston is the city that sleeps late and goes to bed early. Still, magical beyond all reason.
-Decided to challenge the law by disposing of the revolting green versions of the afore mentioned pastel jellybeans by tossing them out the window.
-Realized the window in room 527 overlooks the valet parking area.
-Hatian valet man comes up to Floor 5 of the Park Plaza and inquires as to who would possibly commit the crime of throwing UFOs out a window. We smile innocently and inquire as to what those out of control rascals were throwing. Hatian man produces a cracked, weathered, disgusting green pastel jellybean.
-Room 527 disposes of all evidence, and escapes any sort of criminal repremanding.
-We go and watch 4 billion plays. All of them well done. Many of them incomprehensable.
-Begin to stalk a very attractive boy named Luke Taylor. And I mean stalk in the most extreme sense of the word. We later come to the conclusion, after evesdropping and observing, that Luke Taylor is a constipated, theatre snob/stoner with a broken arm. Yet still very attractive. If you're interested in the footage, let me know.
-We wake up for tech rehersal at 6:30 AM. The first uttarance of noise aside from the evil that was the hotel alarm clock:
"WHERE is the SHEET?!"-Alison Rose Tully (BILL).
-I realize that the hand that is under my butt is not my hand, but the hand of Liz Itkowsky. Somehow we always manage contact even though we were sleeping on completely opposite sides of the bed.
-Entire group, including chaperones, gets admonished by a hung over, saggy eyed wench for speaking in the hallway while she was trying to sleep. At 12:30 PM. It's time to wake up, lady.
-We perform at 2:00 in front of an audience filled with the high school theatre elite. Many of them did not understand basic, in your face humor.
-Fortunately, wonderful people that I love who DO appreciate such humor came to see The Princess and The Princess enjoy it's last happily ever after. This made me very happy. And excited. Happy and excited.
-And finally, we end our magical run with Leeann and Natale recieving acting awards, and Katie getting recognized for the costumes, as well she should.

...And they all lived happily ever after.

Oh, bully sticks.

My mother bought Milo an unidentified cow part at PetCo today as a special little token of her undying love for him. It's stiff, and brown, and approximately 12 inches long, so we assumed it was a cow tail. By we I mean my mother, myself, and Samm the PetCo Employee.

Got home tonight, went online, while Milo lay beside me, happily chewing on his Bully Stick (tm). As the computer was logging on, I took notice as to how it was a bit disgusting to watch Milo chew on the petrified tail of a deceased cow.

So I finally get online, and begin a conversation with Samm, who informs me that she found out that what my mother purchased for our young puppy was not, in fact, a cow tail.

Oh no. What my golden retriever is munching on right now, happy as a lark in the glenn, is a cow penis.

A long, stiff, petrified, baked?, $5.00 cow penis.

Enjoy, Milo. Enjoy.

Why can't I be like you, Jack?

Grown up is such an odd phrase, and it had such a solid definition to me when I was little. When someone was grown up, they had a job, or they were married, or they lived by themselves, and were just older, in general. Only now I have no idea what constituted as a "grown up" to me back then. For all I know I might have considerded 18 to be equal in adult status to 35.

As far as what I want to DO with the rest of my life? Well when I was two, I wanted to be a ballerina, but by the age of 4 with a year of ballet lessons under my belt I realized that maybe I would just always have ballet as a hobby, because OBVIOUSLY being an actress was a much more stable career move. When I started kindergarten I developed such a crush on my teacher that I wanted to be just like her and teach kindergarten ALL the time. That ended when I was 6 and discovered that first grade was nothing more than a big disappointment. THEN I became penpals with Jan Brett (who, by the way, STILL sends me fliers advertising her latest books and stickers 10 years later. Enough is enough, Jan.) and that's when I wanted to become a pediatrician AND an author. Eventually seventh grade rolled around, and I had the amazing revelation that Katie Couric's job was probably the coolest one around, and that is what I focused my aspirations on throughout high school.

But now what? I've been really lucky to have the oppurtunity to work in a TV studio at school, act in school plays, and have some really amazing people as teachers. (Not so fast, Mr. Smith. I am certainly NOT referring to you. Ass.) I've really been inspired to do each of these things. 

There are days when I just want to go to college, get an education degree and minor in theatre arts so that I could become a Ms. Mastroianni and work in a high school and be loved by all these kids, and direct plays, because I see her at rehersal and in school and it seems that she is one genuinely happy person who likes her job and all of its benefits.

Sometimes I get ambitious. Sometimes I want to take a plunge into tv production  and do my best to stay above the competition and just believe that someday, eventually, I'd get to go to the Oscars.

And then there are those instances when I've just began rehersing for a new show or am really really enjoying myself when I just want to be extremely risky and just go out there and be in the right place at the right time and magically become an actress, and live the life that I have always been fascinated with. 

As much as my future is up to me, there is an equal measure of elements that are pure luck, and coincedence, and just simply a part of this master plan for my life that I am completely unaware of. I have always believed that everything happens for a reason, and, in the end, everything works out the way it was meant to. So, with that said, I'm just going to keep pondering, and fantasising, and what-ifing, and whatever will be will be

Once upon a time...

...There was a Princess play that kicked so much butt that it actually, despite popular belief, managed to work its way into the final round of the Boston Globe Drama Festival. Yes this really happened, no I still cannot believe it.

But oh man is it a THRILL.

Today was a rather pointless day to spend in school. I must say, aside from drawing my own headshot in Theatre Arts and discovering that Uncle Ronnie's slushies are now a permenant fixture in the cafeteria, there wasn't a whole lot to attend for. Apparantly Ms. Bolarinho's breaking up of the all out brawl that happened last week has resulted in what I imagine to be a blatant plaster body cast that prevents her from coming into school. I hope she realizes that in order for every bone in her body to heal properly, it is imperative that she remain at home for as long as possible.

Today we deposited $11.65 worth of cans to use towards funding our hotel rooms in Boston. I'd say we're well on our way.

And now I have to continue not reading The Lion King/I Dreamed of Africa/The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe or Henderson the Rain King, whatever you prefer. Haven't read this far, why start now?

The End.

Cooking Show.

Sweet Lord, it's nights like this that make me never want to graduate, never want to leave the friends I have, never want to grow up, because I feel like everything I could possibly need to achieve happiness I already have.

Forget how crappy the day started off, forget the Psychology test I failed, forget how Samm's and Nat's and my plan to blow off English backfired in the face of our flawless records, forget how tired I am. I have never laughed harder than I did tonight.

I saw that in a Nickelodeon once and I always wanted to do it.

And so ends one very eventful, very enjoyable, very unshowered weekend. 

I blame the way that this year has whizzed by on the massive amounts of fun I have with all of these people that I adore. Sad as it is that time flies when you're having fun, I much prefer this to the alternative, which I would be living had I continued my pathetic existance as a silent, friendless Bernie.

I have eaten massive amounts of all things delicious this weekend, and that to me equals success. Samm gave me a smashing Parisan cookbook for two, and we wasted no time in blowing off homework in favor of making a molten chocolate cake, which was eaten with ice cream, along with the remains of the Slumber Party ice cream cake, tomato soup, and Premiums.

I also got to go to ThaiChaDa with Kristina, Bill, and Natale, where Natale conquered his shrimp fear, Kristina inhaled a duck, we had a waify waitress, and Bill learned how to talk Thai, or at least sat ThaiChaDa quickly and impressively. 

Friday was the Slumber Party. Awesome was really the only way to describe it, really. 

Read through today was fine. Indians do not use nouns or verbs when they speak. How's that for stereotypical Mr. Smith? Ugh a wug.

I don't know why, but when I'm just sitting around quietly by myself, I tend to think of sad things that make me pathetically emotional. Listening to the little boy I babysit for read Go Dog, Go almost made me cry. I don't know why this is.

I guess it's impossible to be happy all of the time, but the sweet is never as sweet without the sour.

You have a gift, Jack. You do. You see people.

So today may just have been one of the most enjoyable school days of the year. Cast list for Peter Pan went up, and I am so excited to be Tiger Lily, and sad at the same time, as the rest of the year will offically FLY by from here, but it's best to focus on the good in situations like these.

In addition to this, English proved to be truly magical in that it was a blatant confirmation of my section's complete disregard for the class. After Samm informed him that his enormous vocabulary was merely a desparate attempt at compensation for the smaller things in his life and Lizzy convinced him that "wiggity whack" was indeed an appropriate term to use when describing Lily in Saul Bellow's classic novel, The Lion King, we all just sort of realized that his time as a respected human was officially up. It's fine though, because it just is.

THEN, as we haven't been to the Blue Heron T-Shirt makers in over 5 days, Natale, Kristina, Megan, Ian, and myself went on in there to pay a visit to Cello Cello Cello, Jerri, and The Magnified-Eyed Old Lady, and ask them to make us some kickass Princess t-shirts. After 45 minutes, 4 utterances of the name "Cello", 6 minutes of staring at Jerri the T-Shirt expert's massive cameltoe, and a rat bastard, we left satisfied.

I got 2 notes from Bill today, thus adding to the day's majesty. 

One more time.

It just occured to me that this is the last night I will spend in anticipation over the casting of an LHS performance. This really saddens me, because I don't think I can reiterate enough how much I'll miss all of this. Good thing I'll be able to come back and live vicariously through all of those who get to keep on trucking for one or two more years.

But I feel SO lucky to get the chance to do TWO Boston Globes in a year. I have to keep reminding myself that it's far from over ladies and gentlemen, the curtain hasn't closed yet.

Quick update on the seamonkeys. They have gotten freakisly large, large enough to have a clear, unmagnified view of their beady little eyes. I don't think they were meant to get so large. They kind of swarm a bit and it makes me uneasy.

Oscars were a bit disappointing, I must say. The PARTY, however was not. Any excuse to eat potato skins is good enough for me.

It's weird to be home at 7:00. Maybe I'll do homework.

If by homework you mean watch Friends.