Showing posts with label lists. nutcracker. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lists. nutcracker. Show all posts

Sunday, December 11, 2011

nutcracker madness


Nutcracker is:
Glitter.
Giggles.
Sniffling during snow scene because it's all so beautiful and this is your last year.
Balling backstage because you realize how much you adore the whole thing.
Snow. Throwing it. Stealing it. Watching Rhonda clean it up.
Lots of Rhonda jokes.
Taking pictures of the same people over again so that other people get the idea it's a four man show.
Fighting with my pretend little brother Fritz who's actually a girl named Gracie.
Going back to see my little cherubs and angels and being asked preposterous questions. My favorite was "Are you really a flower?"
Threatening to do crazy things with Amanda during school show. Only to giggle and realize that we never will do said crazy things.
Aching Feet.
Butch and Jimmy. The living legends.

Ohhh Nutcracker. How I love you. How I'll miss you. How I wish I could just think about you all the time instead of working on finals.
Bleck.

Friday, December 10, 2010

List #1

There's this journal Jen and I found that is just a bunch of lists.
I mean on every page there's a topic and then spaces for you to list things that fit into that topic.

So I want to do that ever so often.

List #1-
part one: things I love about Nutcracker
1) Rehearsals-we're all tired because of finals which means we're all loopy. and I love it.
2) GLITTER-I'm usually kinda a glitteraphobe...but during nutcracker, I love to layer it on.
3) Rhonda. He's a stage hand that Cara and I adore.
4)the snow. when it snows on stage, something leaps inside of me. I love it just as much now as I did when I first was in the nutcracker.
5) Mother Ginger. I love dancing that dance during the Act 2 rehearsal. It's a time for us serious ballerinas to goof off.
6) the music. genius really.
7) making faces at people on stage when no one's looking.
8) pretending.

part two: things I don't love:
1)hurting feet.
2) that it's over in 3 short days.

Mary Em
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