Lies and falsehoods, Padfoot!

My last real Encore show is done. And I am sad.

So let's distract me with some fun memories, shall we?

I wanted to mention that I spent an hour one night watching That 70's Show in the Chorus room with Pat, Gerry, and Vanessa. It was great fun, and we all knew and sang the theme song. Loudly and off key. Ha ha ha!

Becky: *The line is "Your virture is my privelige"* Your virginity is my privilege!

Aaron: Puck's supposed to be an effeminante male. In our case...it's Renee.

I tripped over my scooter on the way offstage. Ouch.

Pat: Arise my love! *Bart raises sword, slowly and phallicly*

Lydia moved her hand when Bart and Pat went to kiss. Hahahahahahaha!

Pat: With hands as pale as milk! *Hold up hands, while wearing white gloves.*

Me: *Lipstick in hand* Where does this go?
Kristen: In Pat's purse.

Paul twitches when he pretends to sleep. I wonder if he twitches when he really sleeps?

Then the music awards and senior recital...Yeah.

Mrs Hart: I felt just like a mother hen with all my little ducklings. (Ok Woman, let's just get this straight. Hens DO NOT HAVE DUCKLINGS.)

Today, I love you, because the Pope is Catholic; some Rabbis are Jewish; and the wind blows North. Sometimes.
Today I hate uptightness.

BREAKING NEWS! Mr. Whitman hates Kelli. Yup. That's the only conclusion I can draw from his behavior in band yesterday. He started to conduct, and then threw his baton at Kelli. (Well ok, to be perfectly honest I think it was an accident, but then he expected us to keep playing, like an identified flying pointy object hadn't just hit one of us in the face, so it's more fun to think he hates Kelli and then be mad at him...)

And rehersal tonight was actually quite productive...Only Paul CANNOT FOCUS WHEN DANCING! And he's very stiff. The Merengue, which we are dancing, is not stiff. Karla, babe, when you feel better get that man to loosen up! In a non-sexual way.

KARLA AND BECKY GET WELL SOON! I love you both.

Although Paul is funny. He was lying on his side on the stage with his script in front of him and me facing him, and he looks down at the script, and then at me, and goes "Hermia, I feel like there's something between us..."

And then Bart had a plastic hanger in his belt to be his sword, and when he went to stab himself with it, after drawing it out all dramatically, it broke in half and a piece of it went flying. LMFAO!

That's all for today folks!

Today I love the Merengue

Today I hate not knowing what grade I got on my Physics test.

Ok, I'm sorry, and I know no one reads these, but I can't help myself.

You are going to be subjected to some fanfic quotes. Deal with it.

Fic 1

There was nothing erotic about a nude and trembling Remus. Nothing. (This is said by Sirius, who is trying and failing to convince himself)

It was only when Remus swooned that Sirius remembered the importance of breathing.

Fic 2

It was quite sad, the way some men were brought low by underpants.

Crumbs had no place whatsoever in the jam and Moony always forgot...

He really loved explosions, particularly when they sparkled. (This is the best line ever!)

Moony, for his part, was pretty tolerant of it. Estella was a nice bike, he said, mortifying Sirius with the description. Estella was not nice- Estella was mad, bad, and dangerous to know. “Nice”, honestly.

It was all a façade, of course; the things that came out of that boy’s (Remus's) mouth when he was being held down and tickled would scandalize Mundungus Fletcher.

He needed the best exploding things he could find. With glitter, if possible. He wanted Moony to have bits of sparkly things stuck in his hair for weeks.

"Why y’kiss’n me?” he would murmur sleepily, and Moony would say, “’Cause you’re completely daft, now be quiet.”

There was simply nothing in the world as wonderful as a warm, sleepy Moony.

Moony rolled his eyes and snorted and in general tried very, very hard to look like an adult, but spoiled it by snickering.

“Snuffles?” Sirius hissed, looking pained, and Remus gave him a delighted, wicked grin and said yes, Snuffles, wasn’t that a nice name for a dog?

(The two get each other clouds that rain candy and presents down on their heads. This is Sirius' reaction.) He thought he might have candy hearts down the front of his shorts, and also possibly a concussion.

Fic 3

The trouble with living with another person, Remus thought... is that you’ve got to live with another person.

(Sirius' poem to Remus:)
Violets are purple
Your eyes are brown
You are the fellow
On whom I go down

Lily sipped her tea. “I kick James when he hogs the blankets. In the shins. Hard.”
“And what happens?” Remus asked.
“He wakes up, apologizes, hands back the blankets, and…”
“And?”
Lily shrugged. “We go back to sleep. If he hogs them again, I kick him again. If not…”

“You’re so...canine,” Remus grunted.
Sirius chuckled. “I’m your bitch."

I’ve been trying to get you into my bed forever; I’d never intentionally push you out.

“It’s amazing,” James confided unhappily, “the concessions men are willing to make when they haven’t gotten laid for two weeks.”

“Any idea,” grumbled Sirius, “is better than depriving me of sex.”
“I agree. Depriving you of sex means depriving me of sex. And frankly, I like getting laid,” Remus said.

(More of Sirius' poetry)
“Roses are red,
My eyes are grey,
Wouldn’t you hate it
If I weren’t gay?”

(Ok, Hannah, if you find yourself reading this, what exactly is the age difference between Lupin and Tonks? Because here she's four and drawing pictures of people while Remus watches her)
“Your nose is strange,” Dora commented.
“Sorry,” said Remus.
“I don’t like your nose. I’m not drawing it.”

"I did Mummy and Daddy and Cousin See-rus. My black crayon’s almost gone,” she complained.

There was a grey-eyed stick figure with what looked like a black storm cloud attached to his head. Beside him stood a slightly shorter stick figure with brown eyes, and no nose.


Ok that's it. I'm done. I'm sorry to subject you all to this, but I just can't keep my love of these stories quiet.

Oh, and Bart, nothing you ever tell me can rival the things I read about Remus/Sirius. But please don't try. Heh. Love ya!

FINALS ARE OVER! I NEVER HAVE TO SEE MRS. COSTELLO AGAIN! (Can you tell I'm excited?)

And I love Mr. Peterson. We watched this episode of Northern Exposure for the second half of our final, and that has to be the weirdest show ever.

Example of the strange writing on Northern Exposure: I've ruined like three pairs of underwear just dreaming about you!

And "Hawley has the key to my pants. And my heart." It should be noted that Hawley is at least 60 and the girl speaking is like 20.

So anyways, it was fun and now finals are done. YES!

Bartley is correct on the movie quote. It is X-men. The first one.

Bart's prize is that he gets to be exempted from me yelling at him for not showing up to our Anthro final. I will not even say Bad Bart, or that he didn't hand in his final project either. Not a word from me.

So let's try for an easier quote this time... "That's our lot in life. It's not a lot, but it's our life." ( I <3 this quote. I <3 bad puns.)

Ok, first of all, I have been indirectly threatened by Rich. If he asks any of you for any information of mine, DO NOT GIVE IT TO HIM! I am not kidding.

Now on to some lighter business.

I asked Will how the movie Team America was, and he goes: It was hardcore...With puppets!

Then tonight at rehearsal David sat on Paul's hot chocolate, squashed the styrofoam cup, got it on his pants, and just made me laugh like a nut. Then to make it batter, Paul didn't know it had happened until David was cleaning it up, and he got all offended. Ha ha ha!

And you all suck because sure you can comment everywhere else but not on my journal. I am an attention whore, people. Help!

Here are some entertaining bits from Summer Encore, mostly during the bus rides.

Chris: Dyslexic cow! OOOOOOMMMMMMMMM

Devon bought a fish, and took it on the bus to West Hartford with us, and we named it something that was representative of Summer Encore: Winnebago.

Hannah couldn't find her hat, and so Devon and I had to try and stall for like 10 minuets. We lost it after a while and just laughed. It was bad.

We travel around with all our equipment, except the stereo, which we forgot.

Mrs. Archer: You older students should be good role models and provide a good example.
Me: Ha ha ha!
Mrs. Archer: I'm serious.
Me: That's why it's funny.

Hannahmylove came with us to West Hartford and did hilarious things backstage with props and costume bits. She made all the music people go into the hysterias, especially Jacob.

On the last bus ride home, Bart was throwing empty water bottles at Peter's head, and everyone was making it like Otis was doing it.

The three rules of Encore, in order:
1. Just do it. Whatever they ask you to do, no matter how stupid or illogical, just do it. Don't argue. Encore does not do things intelligently or logically.
2. Don't ask why. Once again, Encore does not do things in an easy, smart, or logical way. Don't ask why you must do it.
3.Just don't ask. If you see something odd, just do not ask. You probably don't want to know anyways.

Bart:I'm surrounded by annoying republican kids and my mom wanted me to go out and introduce myself, so I turned around to her and said "Hi, I'm Bart I'm a gay democrat"...I think I'll pass on that offer mom.

Hee hee hee!

I really do love Bart.