Ahh, Memories

There are some times, some places, some situations that stick with us forever. Whether we realize it or not, some part of our subconscience is always aware of that memory, it just needs a certain trigger to pull it out from the archives in the recesses of our brain and flood our waking thoughts with flashbacks to a different time.

There are certain smells for me that will transport me back to an earlier time. Certain feelings. Certain songs.

Whenever the roof of my mouth feels funny, I think of velvet. It's not really a sensation that could ever logically be described with that word, but one day when I was little, staying at home sick, and sitting on my mom and dad's bed watching Sesame Street on their little television, the roof of my mouth felt funny like that. And if I held really still, it wouldn't go away. And to my child's mind, it would feel like velvet.

Maroon 5 always makes me think of 5th grade.

Water balloons always make me think of third grade, at a certain friend's house who I have never been at since.

Corsets make me think of wolf costumes and hives. Green iPods are walking to elementary school during alternate transportation week when they handed out stickers to people actively trekking along. Sensitive skin is a warm bath when I have a fever.

Then there are the places. Some places that are associated with a particular but imperfect event, where you always think of one specific thing, but not a specific night or specific occurrence.

Some places should be like that, but they aren't.

Tonight, we went to Old Chicago after rehearsal. The only time I ever go there is after theatre. So, natural that I should relate it to theatre.

But out of the several times that I've been there, my mind thought of one night.

Driving home, I expected it to be snowing, and for somebody to be waiting to Skype with me when I got home.

Needless to say, there was no snow, and everybody was asleep.

You crafty memories.

I'll Admit

It did get better.

Not exponentially, but better.

I think the reason I hated the beginning so much was because they were taking a show that is funny by nature and catering solely to the humor, completely disregarding the intuitive delivery of the lines to substitute in something funnier. Most of the time, though, it wasn't as much funny as it was just plain ridiculous.

Being a more serious theatrical fanatic, I appreciate it more when an actor is able to take a script and deliver it in such a way that they're aren't bursting out of character in their attempt to entice laughter out of their audience, but instead can be completely serious and still make people laugh.

Which is why when all nine parts of the opening (or however many there are, dear lord) were all overacted in the extreme, it took vast amounts of self control just to keep myself from pushing the power button.

But it got better. By the second act, when Bernadette Peters was no longer an ugly witch but instead could rock her crazy 90's poof, she obviously thought that her hair was comedy enough and so returned to saying her lines like a normal person, as did everybody else.

Her flying around in her cape for the entirety of Last Midnight though?

Kinda ruined it.

Why so serious?

So, for those who don't know, I do theatre. I'm definitely a geek. Some might even call me a junkie.

Regardless of the title that you decide to apply, the fact remains that I do a damn lot of theatre.

And I often hear of those who think that it's all serious up on stage.

I can't even count how many people have commented on how much we must practice, or the amount of focus that it all must take, or how serious we all are.

The truth is, shenanigans happen.

Quite often.

In fact, every day.

We love shenanigans.

Giggle fits are not uncommon during preshow, for a number of reasons.

Reason one: Stand too close to the curtain at your own risk, my friends.

There is a very good chance that if you do, you will either get poked, pinched in the butt, or have your pony pulled.

Then there's always the people who enjoy standing behind the curtain saying silly things because they know you have no power to make them stop.

Reason two: We're teenagers.

It's like How to Train Your Dragon; "You just gesture to all of me."

We have dirty minds. If any song lyrics can be turned into a sexual joke, you can almost guarantee that they will be. And as soon as one of us thinks of that onstage, the giggles spread.

It's like a giggle monster has taken over the stage. We can't stop. And for those of you who don't know, it's very hard to sing while giggling.

Very, very, hard. Aka, we don't sing.

Oh, shenanigans. What would theatre be without you?