Oh, eew, Valentine's Day. Aka Day of Massive Cooties. Well, mine was less like a Valentine's Day and more like a day of pure torture... but, then again, there's not much of a difference, is there?
Y'alrighty. I was strangely hyper this morning, and I had bought Shrek paper valentines about a month ago, and happened to have some mini-Skittles bags in a drawer. So, as juvenile as it seems, I prepared some very crude valentines for all my friends. Turns out, just about everyone who passed out Shrek 2 valentines (maybe 2 out of the 3,000 people in my school) had scratch and sniff ones, and mine were just lame picture ones. Oh, snap, I knew I should have gotten the Harry Potter ones.
So I got some cookies, a little rose that I put first on the front of my shirt (and told everyone to call me "Tess", but only two or three people got the joke... and then the rose fell off), and then tucked it into my ponytail (both were from my friend, Rachel). My mummy gave me pretty earings, the threader kind that have no backs but are composed of a chain that pulls through the ear lobe, with briolet-cut diamonique stones (uber-pretty!). I'm making her a painting, but it's nowhere near done (I showed the progress to her, she seemed pleased!). I just love my earrings! (And cookies and rose.)
Anyway, so today in AP English I read as Ophelia, and that part where she describes Hamlet as he runs in all undressed and dirty (the class had a good laugh), I did all these motions that made it hard to read. And I made myself the First Player without knowing beforehand (I usually like to read my lines aloud the night before, just to work out the kinks... I'm a nerd, I know), but I did my best. Well, maybe not. Then I had a live-action orchestra test. Sounds like an Oscar category... Well, instead of playing in a secluded section of a distant hallway in front of a camera, I played in front of the entire class. Afterwards I was shaking so badly it was visibly notable (oh, the shame). That's fine. I don't think I did so badly as I made it out to be, but I'm not sure. I guess I'll find out tomorrow, if I can rush to the Orchestra room before I rush to my Astronomy Club meeting. I do hope I did well.
AP French was simple. We just read a story (that I expected to be really good because it was by a highschool dropout... and normally if it's included in an anthology and the point of a lack of education is underscored, it's pretty profound... but it was just a terrible story, I mean, I could have written it in French) and wrote a paragraph about it, and I had time to waste by reading Things Fall Apart (Chinua Achebe) and get the d-l on his thoughts about Heart of Darkness. I've been reading Things forever now, I normally read stuff that's handed to me quickly (though I still have the stack of Eliot Kelly gave me for Christmas to read, because I've been reading Daniel Deronda instead). Well, it's understandable, I've been stressed lately.
And, oi, Acting Techniques. Eek. I got my script in today, and quite hated it, Cockney accents and all. I thought, "Oh, Brit humour! Yay!" when I ordered it, but as I read it, I didn't care for it at all. It wasn't bad... just utterly predictable on all fronts, with additives on character that weren't quite necessary. Just blah. So, I read through a couple other one-acts on my teacher's shelf, and didn't like any of them. So, now I've it down to one I've really wanted all along, "The Bear: A Joke in One Act" by Anton Chekov (who can't love a little Chekov?!?). I'm more than a little worried over some of the language in it, since I know that we can curse on stage no prob, but we can't take heavy language to Showcase because children will be in the audience. So, unless my selection wins a nomination, I won't have to hide anything. I'll still have to check with my teacher, and I'll try to pick something else as a backup. I don't know what I'll do about the brandishing of pistols, but it's so hysterically funny... I hope it's long enough. I know! I'll act it out with Beanie Babies to see how long I can get it!
Adieu, adieu! remember me.