Monday, October 30, 2006

Blog Story, P14: The Final Entry

Gotta do this quick, and then i am off to babysit and yell answers to the questions to Who Wants to be a Millionare. What's amusing? The bad hairstyles. What's more amusing? The way me and Leah, the 8 yr old who i'm babysitting, get more answers than the 35+ age people on the show.

Okay comes the end.


"But Bradley...I don't understand. Why don't you want to be with me?" the skinny woman with big brown hair sobbed.

"I'm no good for you, Victoria. I'm no good for anybody anymore." With that, the surfer-esque guy threw himself off of the cliff.


I laughed and clicked the power button on the remote. Most people probably wouldnt laugh at someone jumping into shark-infested waters to their immenent demise.

Then again, i am not most people.


I had a thousand things to deal with after that day. Some were as trivialas just changing where i usually sat at lunch. Others were harder. Dodging the dirty looks given to me by the several ex-girlfriends of and girls who liked Eric. Telling my parents. Not telling Jess.

But it was worth it. HE was worth it.

It's not like he had been pining for me or anything. We annoyed the crap out of each other about 64% of the time. But in the end, it all worked out remarkably well.

I never did see Jess on Broadway. SHe came back in January with a list of things i had done wrong but she was going to forgive me for, being such a kind and generous person. I dropped the friendship right there.

Vanessa and I became better friends, and she started dating Tom from I-Skreem. They both seem to have...exotic taste buds. Vanessa herself took over the postition left by me. That's right, i finally quit. I'm working at the library now, where i can text-messege in peace.

My parents, unfortunatley, are still total workaholics. I;m still babysitting, but much less now that i go out with my musical friends a lot. Yup, i'm a drama geek, and it feels so good.

As for Luke, he backed off, pretty much. Besides a small incedent involving cornering me during lunch and my breaking a tray over his head. I'd rather not go into it. He dumped the blonde girl and now has a Flavor-of-the-Week policy. Rumor has it that Jess didnt take too kindly to this, and stayed in limbo for over three months after they broke up, texting and emailing him before making a public scene and "dumping" him in front of an entire Staples full of people. He reportedly dropped the 10-pack of highlighters he'd been buying in total shock.

And me? Well, things have been going pretty good so far. Eric and I fight, as i said before, but it's never serious. I can never put it better than Vanessa did one day at lunch while we were bickering: "You guys are like the most dysfunctional couple ever. And yet, you're strangely adorable. You're dysfunctiadorable."

It's spring now. Finals are right around the corner. I should probably be studying, but i'm not. I'm sitting in the treehouse in our backyard that my dad built me, back when he had time. It's getting dark now, hard to see.

There's no way that i could document everything that happened between that day in early September when i watched that soap opera to when Eric and i got together to now. There are so many blurry bits and pieces that drift away when i try to grab them and slep them down here in balck and white.

Because i've found that nothing is ever all black and white. Nothing is ever certain.

The best way to describe it, i guess, is how when I was hanging out with Eric a few months ago, I remembered something he had said months ago.

"Hey," I said to him, sitting up straight. "I thought this wasnt your genre."

"What?" He looked confused.

"Happy endings."


Sunday, October 29, 2006

There Were Errors

I'm dead serious, that's what it said. It didnt even have the courtesy to blue-screen-of-death, fatal-error-9001 me. It just said "There Were Errors" and shut off. Grrr.

Thursday, October 26, 2006

Blog Story, P13

Two times.

Just two more times, and it would all be over.

I wouldnt have to think about this play anymore.

I wouldnt have to avoid Eric anymore.

I wouldnt have to watch Eric avoid me anymore.

I wouldnt have to kiss him anymore onstage. Because i could feel the absoloute hate just pouring out of him.

But what was i supposed to do when he wouldnt even let me explain?

Just two more times.

I knew that my singing sucked. And it wasnt just the very subtle way Mr. Phillips asked me what the heck was wrong with my voice. I knew it couldnt be good because of how the entire time i was singing, i wasnt thinking about, "This is what Elphaba would do, and this is what she feels, and this is what's happening." I was thinking about Eric and Friday night and what an idiot i was.


He leaned toward me slowly, closing his eyes.

This is it.

And it was that thought that sent my entire world spinning on its axis. My entire mind completley exploded into all of these crazy thoughts. This is Eric. How could this happen? He can't like me, he doesnt like me, all those times that i said it wasn't possible..i thought it was true, didnt i? That was the single constant fact in all of this. Luke, Jess, my entire screwed up family, my entire screwed up LIFE, he was always there, he was always Eric, and if this goes away then what am i going to have? And then i could feel him less than an inch away, and who knows what would have happened if a little part of me hadnt said But what if you like him?


I pushed him away by mistake. Honestly, there was no concious decision to do it, my arms just went out all of a sudden. He was so shocked that he fell back onto the grass. I was just as shocked as he was.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He didnt say anything, just sat there with his mouth hanging open. "But...we're...friends, Eric!" I wanted to grab the words out of the air and stuff them back into my mouth. It sounded so stupid. And then i made the colossal mistake of trying to explain. "It's just were there and maybe i was too, but then i couldnt be'm sorry."

His entire face had shut down. "Yeah, somebody always is."

"What does that mean?"



He stood up. "Do you really think you deserve an explanation? Every time we fight, it's never that serious. Someone is always sorry. But this time, no one is, and that's what different."

I had no idea what he meant. "But i am...I'm-"

"Forget it." He walked off into the bus circle, which was quickly filling up with cars. And i stood there, shivering, wondering what i had just done.

I finally walked off, completley dazed, and bumped into this huge mass of a person.

A really familiar mass.

"Watch it," Luke said, and brushed by me. Then he realized who he was talking to. "You think you can get away with punching me in the face like that, well-"

"Look, can you save the manaical rant for later, please? Seriously, some other time would be great. I'll pencil you in for Tuesday."

He followed my gaze to where Eric was getting into his mom's car and smirked. "You and that kid? Finally."

"What do you mean finally?" I asked. Just talking to him was annoying me. "You know what i mean. You and the other nerd kid. It's a perfect happy ending, riding off into the sunset on a computer or something. I got it way better."

Happy ending...

"Do NOT make me hit you again."

He smirked but backed away a step. "Everyone always knew he liked you, but i didnt know that he would ever actually go through with it. That Jeanette girl, she was hot."

I stomped on his foot with my witch boots and walked to the car.


And now i was standing here, completley dreading going onstage with a new kind of fear. I knew that i had to do something. And then i felt myself shrinking again, backing into a corner and hiding.

Then i remembered something. When i was ten years old, i went to the lake with some family friends. One girl, Isabelle, was my age. The other girl, Tracy, was five. One portion of the lake was roped off for a dock. There were tons of people diving off, and i would have basically rather chewed my own arm off than jump into that freezing cold, deep water. There was no real danger; i was just scared. Isabelle whined at me and told me it was fine, it was fine, everyone else is doing it, see, and i could swim. Tracy called me a chicken and clucked and tried to push me in (she weighed about half as much as i did). None of it worked. I was completley determined to do it when I wanted to. All of the pushing and clucking and whining did nothing. And then the two of them jumped into the water. I thought, Why shouldnt I? and forced myself to stop thinking and forced my legs to jump off the dock.

The water was cold and deep, but the looks of shock on their faces when they climbed out of the lake and i wasnt there was worth it. And then, standing there on the stage, singing, i realized that all i had to do was stop thinking.

I sang the last note, as usual.

The curtains closed then opened, as usual.

I went out for my bow alone, then held hands with Eric on my left and Ryan (the wizard) on my right, as usual.

Now was when i was supposed to let go of Eric's hand.

He was supposed to stalk away immediatley.

As of latley, that was usual, too. But i didnt let go. He tried to walk away, and i pulled him back.

Stop thinking.

I tugged him down to my leval and kissed him full on the mouth.

So not as usual.

Right after i did it, there was a huge addrenalin rush that felt somewhat like a heart attack. Then i started thinking again by accident and tried to pull away, sure that he was going to push me back. But he didnt. He didnt. He pulled me back and kissed me again. And all i thought was, Oh...this.

And somehow, that was enough.

Everything was perfect...until i heard a loud whacking noise and Eric pulled away, rubbing the back of his head. From what i could tell, Mr. Phillips had hit him with one of the ruby slippers. "No PDA!" he yelled. "Maybe next time if your performance doesnt suck too much!" He then proceeded to tell us in graphic detail how bad we were.

But i wasnt listening, because everything had gotten better all of a sudden. I stopped caring that an insane teacher was screaming his huge head off at us, i stopped caring that Jess was pissed because i forgot to email her, and i stopped caring that Luke was going to come after me. For the first time since...well, forever, my head wasnt exploding with A) What had just happened B) What it could possibly mean C) What was going to happen next, and D) When is it going to turn bad. I just sat there and smiled and loved every minute of it.

Blog Story, P12

WARNING: Super shortness alert. The reason? I wrote part 13 before i wrote this one. This is just something that i should have put at the end of 11 but didnt. But it's technically still a part. Expect P13 out tomorrow.


I walked out of the auditorium, laughing with Eric. I don't even think that i remember why anymore. It was a week since our little movies thing (don't you dare say a date), and things had almost regressed back to normal. But why did i choose that word regressed? It had GONE back to normal, because regressed makes it sound like what we had had before was bad. And it definatley wasnt. But...well, let me get to the part that you're concerned about.

The cars were lining up, trying to get out of the bus circle before the rush came, unaware that they had become part of the rush. I was wearing my Elphaba dress and the super-high-heel witch boots that make me taller than Eric (yay for 3 inch heels!). I scanned the freezing parking lot for my parent's car, but they were nowhere to be found. I was really cold in the thin dress, but i didnt dare mention it to Eric or he'd try to somehow get off the army coat thing that he was wearing and give it to me.

"Grrr, where are they?" I said, teeth chattering, jumping up and down and almost falling due to the boots.

"I think i see them over there," Eric said, pulling me over to the corner of the parking lot. No luck. They were nowhere. I leaned against a tree and tapped my foot, trying to keep warm. Eventually Eric started talking. I don't remember about what, besides this:

"Phillips seems to really hate your attempts at "romantic Fiyero," I said, laughing at the teacher's term.

"It's not my genre, the whole happy endings thing. I'm better at being cynical, personally."

"Yeah but..." I kicked a pebble across the lot. "Doesnt everybody sort of want that a little bit? I do...sort of." Why are you telling him this? "I know it's stupid, but..."

"Nah, i guess you're right." That was the last thing i expected him to say.

"Don't think it'll happen to me, though," I said, turning around.

All of a sudden he was really close to me.

"It could happen," he said quietly.

And then it happened.

He leaned toward me slowly, closing his eyes.

This is it.

Sunday, October 22, 2006

A Little Stuff (WTM??) a.k.a pictures.

Remember the pointless water pot thing from the P 11? Well, it exists. Sitting right there on my fireplace, rountinley knocked over. It actually does make a noise loud enough to be heard through the walls.

This is what i was wearing while writing P9, 10 and 11. Purple lipstick and a Detroit Tigers baseball hat. It just makes me write better, even if it does look odd. This looked especially funny with what i was wearing yesterday, which was a skirt and boots. That hat gives me the worst hat hair ever.

A shot of my nail polish bag. Just thought it looked cool.

ARGH!!!! *kicks things*


so there used to be a crazy manaical type post here.

because i was pissed

and iTunes is ripping me off

and how Eric is a fictional character

but somehow sam actually calmed me down instead of making me madder

and i got off the crazy bitch train

sorry bout that.

P 11 is below.

Go read things.

Saturday, October 21, 2006

Blog Story, P11

One day left. It was the middle of November, and there was only one day left until Wicked. Mr. Phillips was so stressed that he actually let us go home early.

On the way out, Eric was nervous. No, scratch that, he had been looking nervous for a while now. There would be these awkward silences every ten minutes. It was like, one second we were talking and laughing and the next it was like...nothing. He kept starting sentances with "Hey, do you....never mind," or "Are you....nothing."

I was in the middle of a very bad Squidward impression (my younger siblings are having a majorly negative impact on my intelligence) when he said, "Hey, do you want to go see a movie or somethingon Saturday?"

"Sure," I said, and then, because i'm clueless, "who else is coming?"

"Um, no one."

On the outside my reaction was this: A smile and "Oh, that's cool too." On the inside, i had completley freaked out. Was he asking me out? No, he couldnt be. We were friends, and i've gone to the movies alone with a friend tons of times. Yes, but those were all girls. You've only been in a group with him, and it was only that one time because all his other friends sang along to the songs and then you accidentally-on-purpose spilled buttered popcorn all over that girl with the big hair and she screamed like you had lit her sweater on fire and gave you evil looks and then you both agreed afterwards that going to movies, at least ones that were musicals, with his friends was a bad idea.

Still. It was ERIC we were talking about here. So, i concluded, it was impossible.


Is it really?


"Fiyero...! Oh, thanks a plenty, dearest. He's gone to fetch me a refreshment."

Eric came runing backstage. "Yeah, I'll fetch her something," he muttered in my ear. I laughed silently to avoid the dirty looks that Mr. Phillips had been giving me ever since i had tripped and (gasp) smudged my face makeup right before the first scene. But other than that "catastrophe" (not), the show was going pretty well.

"Elphaba, that's your cue! Move! Move!" I ran onstage and...well, i don't really remember much from the actual play, considering that i get this really great natural high from acting, and i can hardly remember anything afterwards. If i tried to describe it, you'd be like, "What was this girl on at the time?" so i'm not going to even bother. All i know is that at the end of the play we went out to take our bows and it felt really good, for a Woodland musical.

Also that I heard a very small but very loud voice yell "GO BEVERAGE!"


"I told you didnt I? I told you! I knew it, i knew it, i knew it. Didnt i say that he liked you?" Vanessa ranted, bouncing up and down. It was a few minutes after the curtain had dropped, and a couple of people were trying to get her unstrapped from the wheelchair that she had to be in as Nessa. She kept falling out, so the set designers had to make a seiries of really complicated seatbelts to make sure that she stayed in place. Now they were looking like they wanted to strangle themselves, considering that after i told her about the whole eric thing she was now freaking out and bouncing and wiggling around and generally making their job 1000000x harder than it was before.

"I did say that he liked you," she continued.

"Stay still," grunted the senior who was trying to undo the wires on the back of the chair.

"I am staying still."

"Well, stay stiller."

"Stiller, as in Ben?"

"Not funny," I said.

"I know. But let me just say-" and she screamed loud enough to break the eardrums of every single person in the place. The stage crew guy stood up and yelled "Fine, you can just untangle yourself!"

Vanessa laughed and said, "Great. Help, please." I bent down and tried to figure out how high on a scale of 1 to 10 (1 being Mr. Rodgers, 10 being the guys in Guns&Roses) the stage crew had been when they thought of this "brilliant" idea. "So what movie are you seeing?"

"I have no idea, but i hope it's not a musical."


"Long story." I found the last harness thing and unclipped it. She slid out of the seat and stretched. "But i really don't think it's" Just saying that word was more trouble than it should have been. "This IS Eric that we're talking about."

"I still don't get why you won't even consider the fact that he might be interested in you. He flirts with you all the time."

"You know who else he flirts with? George, Brian, Mike, and Tom. And me. But the difference is that it's not REAL flirting. It's fake flirting, because he knows that he would never go out with any of us in a million years. With them it's because they're guys. With me it's because...i don't know." At this point we had walked into the little mini "dressing room" things that they had installed to make Phillips stop whining. There was one for girls and one for boys, but people mostly just used bathroom stalls to change in. I sat down at the little sink and started rubbing green off of my cheek.

"Do you like him, though?" Vanessa asked.

I thought about denying it once again. But there wasnt really much point. "The complete true answer in one word is no. The complete true answer in more than one word is that maybe i could, but i've never let myself consider it."


"Because people ask him out all the time. Because he seems sensitive and nice and he'll be all chivalrous sometimes and they'll start to read too much into it. Then they'll come up and ask him and he'll turn them down but be really nice about it. And i don't want to be one of the many. Honestly, for anything to happen, he would have to make the first move. But...what am i talking about? Because it'll never happen." Vanessa was silent for a minute while i watched the green paint swirl around in the sink three times before disappearing totally.

"Sounds like you like him."


I walked around the room for a fourth time. This was odd. It was really odd. Only it wasnt. Because we were just friends. Right? Right.



The doorbell rang, and even though i was expecting it, i jumped like five feet in the air.

I walked over to the door and took a deep breath. I opened it and there he was...

The mailman.

"Um, hi."

"Package for Mrs. Harriet Herdman?"

"Yeah, that's me," I lied, grabbing the paper and signing my mom's signature. She and Dad had taken my siblings out to dinner. It was so cute watching them be all parent-ish. I sign for my parents all the time anyways, since they're never here. People get a little suspicious when i tell them that i'm John, but when i put on this extremely hurt face and say "But Mommy said i was normal," they tend not to pry.

"Hey." Eric had walked up to my door while the mailman was standing there.

"Hey, I'll be there in a sec." I hauled the package inside. Whatever it was, it was heavy.

"So I guess I've got some competition," he joked, nodding in the direction of the departing mail truck.

"Oh yeah, because postage stamps really turn me on these days." He lauged and opened the back door of his mom's car. I know, I know, what a hot date, but you can't walk anywhere from my house, and neither of us are old enough to drive yet.

Once we were in the car, his mom totally started to put me through the third degree. Isn't it the guy who's supposed to go through that? But i just smiled a lot and was very polite and we were best friends by the time she dropped us off. If there is one thing my parents have drilled into me (besides to never sign a contract without a lawyer present), it's manners.

After waiting in a horrendously long line to get to the ticket booth, Eric tried to get tickets to that new movie with Ben Stiller in it. "Sorry, that movie's sold out," said the very bored-looking dude working the little microphone thing.

The only other things playing were three horror flicks (immediatley off the list since i can't stand freaky movies), four movies that were rated R and we couldnt get into, and...

"Two tickets to Yours, Mine, and Ours, please."


"Jumping off a building."

"That's not original enough."

"Shooting myself with a potato gun five thousand times. I would live, but i would be in really bad pain."

"Alright..." Eric said, "Throwing myself into a giant paper shredder."

"Shhhhhhhhhh!" The lady in front of us hissed.

"Listening to George play clarinet for ten straight hours."

"Reenacting that Monty Python skit, The Idiot Race or whatever it was called. The one where you have to run yourself over with a car."


"Being eaten alive by ravenous worms."

"Worms don't have teeth."


"Nice. Watching this movie for the rest of my life."

"That doesnt make any sense," I whispered. "You would rather watch this movie for the rest of your life than watch this movie?"

"You would rather be eaten by worms than watch this movie?"

"They have no teeth, so it'd be slow, plus i hate worms so it would be totally gross."


The lady in front of us was starting to look fairly homicidal, so we shut up. This was possibly the worst movie ever, and the Dennis Quaid factor didnt help. To amuse ourselves, Eric and i had been thinking of as many creative deaths as possible.

And the thing is that we never, ever had an awkward moment. He didnt do that whole corny thing that guys always do in movies, where they yawn and put their arm around the girl's chair. Not that i don't give the male species major props for thinking of a more subtle way to do that, but i didnt necessarily want Eric to go all..guy-ish on me. This was fine as far as i was concerned. Being morbid with Eric was much more fun than hanging out with Luke.

Even if it was against a backdrop of Drake Bell screaming a fake song in another steryotypical kid party.

We cheered when the movie was over. Not because it was good, but because the torture was over.

We laughed and talked on the way back. It was almost the exact same high that i got off of that audience watching me as someone else, only different, a little stranger.

Then we were at my house, and he was walking me up to my door, and i had forgotten all about how this was supposed to be awkward.

"And seriously, them painting the pig blue had to be some kind of animal rights violation. They should get the ASPCA called on them," I said, smiling and watching the little fog my breath made against the completley black sky. We reached the top step coming up to the door.

"So...this was nice," I said.

"Yeah. We should do it again sometime."

"Cool. Well..." All of a sudden this big crash came from my house, followed closely by an "Oops" and a wail. "Jeez. I leave for three hours and the entire place falls apart," I joked. "I should go."

"Okay." And it would have been normal if he had just left. But then, as i was opening the door, he touched my hand. I looked back and smiled at him. He smiled back, and i walked into my chaotic house.

Instead of dealing with the problem at hand (Craig had thrown a baseball at Dennis, which he had successfully ducked. The ball had hit this old watering pot type thing that has absoloutly no point that sits on our fireplace. It had hit Blaire on the leg and she immediatley started to cry), i walked through it all and sat on my couch, pretty much oblivious to everything going on.

What was going on here?

A Brief Interlude

So i havent posted anything but pictures or story for a long long while, so in honor of this, i am going to just talk for a little bit. No, don't run!!!

So marching band has been going pretty good, what with fungus and starbursts and will and keegan marching with me...hee. I have also only posted (counting this) 18 TIMES since september. that's a little (or a lot) odd for me. I dyed my hair red, but they dye is wearing off. And although i promised my parents that i wasnt going to do it over and over again...I'm leaning toward dark purple myself. Suggestions, anyone? I went into high school. I have study halls now, which is the awesomest because i have it with ello and catherine and sometimes jeff/shermy. Yesterday ello and i played the longest game of hangman ever. We have yet to hang a man! Guess we're just too dang good. My math teacher is a bit of a snob, but i can deal with that as long as he keeps me in the back row. French is boring, science is awesome for a change, Social Studies is zzzzzzzz but not as boring as french, English is pretty cool cuz we just talk about randomness the entire time, P/E and Health are sucko but what else is new, lunch is still one of my favorite times of the day, Concert Band is great cuz me and molly are the Flutes in the Back (lol), Newspaper is using the freshman reporters as cheap labor (stapling, labeling, mailing papers), and the Flutes of Marching Band are still bringing sexy back. I need to earn $10 by tonight. Any suggestions, people who are not Shermy? I need it for the original broadway recording of rent. They're selling it for $20 on iTunes, and i WANT it!!!!! Oh yeah, i'm babysitting today. Problem solved, since i already have $10 and the 10 tonite will supplement my Rent fund. I'm thinking about trying out for Cinderella. There's no chance i'll get in, but hey, i could try. Now all i have to do is get up the nerve to call them. Maybe today. Then again, maybe tomorrow. Or never. Who knows? I have to go to 2 things of Reckless because shermy and the other jeff are in one cast and sam and kurtness are in the other and molly wants to see kurtness. I don't know if le sam gives a crap if i come or not, but whatevvvs.

And now, to le breakfast.

Monday, October 16, 2006

Blog Story, P10

The whole thing with Karl and Karen actually happened, minus the butterfly net. Just imagine me as Karl, Will as Karen, and Emma as Miley. Yes, we're odd like that.


I think that if it was a movie instead of my life, Eric would have immediatlye gone and beaten Luke up, and poetic justice would have won once again.

But it wasnt a movie. This was real life, and in real life Eric was five foot five instead of a giant, hulky, 6-foot guy. In real life, Luke could have kicked Eric's ass so bad that he could Fed Ex him for two dollars or less. This was real life.

So instead of pulling a macho-man act, Eric morphed into the nice version of himself that only appeared during crisis, and whom i had only met twice (the day in fifth grade when i got my braces on and when i broke my wrist in seventh).

I was surprised that he just dropped it like that, that he hadnt told me to get over myself or made fun of me or something typically Eric. Not that he's mean. He just likes to make fun of me in general.

But instead of all that, he let me cry eyeliner all over his white dress shirt after he gave me his jacket because it was freezing out and my dress was strappy. He just sat there instead of going back inside to do whatever with his other friends. He talked to me in words that really didnt have any value but sounded nice enough to calm me down a little. He helped me find enough tissues so that when my mom came by to pick me up, talking on her cell the entire time, i would look like i was totally fine.

And on Monday, he was filling in the space where Luke usually leaned up against my locker. Well, half the space, anyway, considering that Eric wasnt nearly as gargantuan as Luke. But it sort of automatically calmed me down that he was there. Then he saw me and jumped a little and said "Hey!" in this really atypically friendly way. Usually he'd deliver some kind of bizzare opening line like, "Will you marry me?" or "Oh, it's YOU," because that's what he does.

What he didnt do was say "hey" like that. Ever.

And then all the way down the hall, he talked like a normal person about normal things. No odd musical references. No name-calling of himself or me or of any kind. Not a hint of sarcasm. On anyone else that expression would have been normal. But not with him.

What. The. Hell.

On him, it was like he was walking on a bridge made of this really thin glass, and if he stepped on it too hard it would shatter into a million tiny pieces.

"So how are you doing?"

No, it wasnt the bridge he thought was made out of glass. It was me.

"I'm...ya know."

"Oh." And he changed the subject. He was still being Nice Eric. And the weird thing was that after a day or so, the only person that i wanted to be around was him. Jess had sent me one text message-SRRY BOUT U AND LUKE. GOING TO NYC FOR 2 WEEKS, OH YEAH-and made herself scace. All my other girl friends were all, "Aww, Miley, come cry on my shoulder, poor little baby," which i guess is what some people would want. But i didnt want to waste any more tears than i had crying over him, and i didnt want to waste any more words talking about him. With Eric, it was like it hadnt really happened.

Except that it had, and i couldnt really run from it for very long.

It was Friday, between seventh and eighth, the hallway. For the past week, i had been extremely out of it. It was that same feeling i had had at the dance, where i was floating outside of all of it, somewhere just out of arm's reach.

And then i saw them. They were right there. I stopped walking and stopped thinking anything at all. Because they were standing right there, Luke and the blonde girl, and Luke was smirking at me.

That was when my glass self got pushed off the shelf. Sorry Eric. You tried.

He whispered something in her ear, and she looked at me and cackled.

But when you step on broken glass, you get hurt.

That was when my legs started moving, and my hand curled up into a fist, and i came right up to him and punched him in the face.

And that was when I realized what i had just done. Closely followed by this realization was Luke yelling and the girl saying things like "OH MY GOD, that bitch, are you okay baby, she'll pay for this" and other things i only thought they said in bad movies and everyone in the hall cracking up and, oh yeah, me running as fast as i possibly could toward my next class

I smiled as i sat down in my seat in AP Euro. I was supposed to skip class now; every single book said so. But they make it seriously hard to skip here at Woodland, so i settled down in my seat and waited for the bell to ring.

And when Eric met me in the hall with a semi panicked look on his face and said, "I heard that you threw Luke out a second-floor window. Is that true?" I threw back my head and laughed.

"Come on or we'll be late for the last rehersal. I don't know about you, but i like having a head."


Rehersal is usually a mood-killer, but add green paint and having to stage-kiss Eric, and it becomes downright depressing. We're working our way through the entire play in order, and at the moment we were at the part in the play that Vanessa and i had deemed "The Fiyero Fiasco". I have to sing "No Good Deed", which is an eternal pain. Mr. Phillips is constantly on my back about my not having enough pain in my voice and how I'm "hitting all the musical notes, but not all of the emotional ones (yes, he actually SAID that). So i was seriously contemplating throwing MYSELF out of a second-floor window, or at least starting a rumor that i had so i could get out of practice.

"Oh-kayyy," Mr. Phillips droned. "Let's start with 'No Good Deed'. Elphaba? C'mon up." I jumped up on the stage and left a green handprint. "Now," he continued, "let's all take a moment to find our centers. Breathe deep...and...go."

He had been making us do that for every emotional song. All i had figured out so far was that, yup, i could breathe.

But that time...maybe it was that i was still on a high from having the nerve to hit Luke in the nose. Maybe it was the last few drops of hurt lingering around from the whole dance thing.

And i breathed in deep and closed my eyes and screamed the first word of the song:


I think i myst have looked or sounded a little deranged, because when i was done, everything was really quiet. And not quiet in an -i'm-text-messaging-the-kid-next-to-me-so-Phillips-won't-kill-me way. Quiet in a sort of heavy way.

And then Mr. Phillips jumped up and started yelling, "That's it! That's it!" and i seriously wanted to die, because i would rather have him screaming at me than liking me. But then the guy who plays Boq talked, and he flipped out at him instead, and the weirdness was mostly over.

Why do i say mostly? Because first of all, i had to babysit Karl and Karen that afternoon. And nothing having to do with them is ever normal.

I walked up to the house. Strangely enough, though, there were no odd noises, no preschool-esque music blasting so loud that the glass on the windows rattled. It was complete and utter quiet that is usually associated with peace: birds twittering, a breeze blowing through the trees.

But at this house, it was associated with mass murderers. Or possibly the apocolypse.

I opened the door because i havent had to ring the bell since i was ten. I stepped into the house, where my head was immediatley covered with a rather large butterfly net.

I screamed, and Karen stepped out from behind a plant, decked out in full safari gear and laughing so hard she could barely stand up. "I caught the beverage!!"

"What??" I asked, disentangling the net from my earrings.

"You're the evil beverage! I have to protect you to save the Metropolis!!" she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the entire world.

"But Karen...a beverage is like a soda or lemonade or water or something. It's not a PERSON."

She stared blankly at me for a second. Then Karl came down the stairs. He looked at me, then at Karen. "Oh, crud."

"BEVERAGE!!!!!" She took off with the butterfly net just as Katherine came around the corner.

"Hey Miley! Sorry, but i have to be at work at exactly..." She glanced at her watch. "Two minutes ago. I just thought that i'd stay and wish you good luck for Friday!"

I totally blanked. "Friday? What's Friday?"

"Your play! You know, Wicked, like the fliers said."

I gasped. "Wait. What flyer?"

She picked up a bright green, obnoxious flyer from the kitchen table. It had the Wicked logo on it and a cast list at the bottom, with my name at the very top. I couldnt look away from it even though i was sure that the color was searing little holes in my eyeballs. "But...." But I threw these away at home after Mr. Phillips gave them to us! I screamed in my mind. He wanted us to go around sticking them in mailboxes or something. But no way was i going to INCREASE the amount of people coming to see me humiliate myself.

"You know, these flyers. Your mom passed them out to everyone in the neighborhood, and everyone is coming. The Donovans, the Thomases..."

She went on and on, but i'm pretty sure that i had gone into a state of shock.




My stupid family.

Red Light! Green Light! Red Light!

So yes. I actually have the 10th part written down somewhere. i have for a while, actually, but now i just have to find it and tweak it and type it.

a few things i was worried about:

1. I was afraid that the scene where they're trying on dresses might be too confusing, because i kind of had it in my head and i was organizing it like that because i'm better at picturing these things, so it sounded weird with all the "she said" put in. (phew. how's that for a sentance?) I may be a director someday, and i'm better at imagining in all the movement. i got confused a bit. so. yes.

2. I am an avid hater of cliffhangers, and that was accidental. Now i sort of realize how some of the authors who i wanted to strangle for "leaving you hanging" may not have seen it that way. Unless it's the author of those "The Clique" books where the cliffhangers have gotten ridiculously soap-opera-ish, and she's done it tons of times anyways and everything ended up alright so it's stopped being suspenseful. But i digress (cool word!)

3. i just realized that i havent given any physical descriptions of the characters. so i'll add that in, even though i totally don't want to. Also i forgot because, like i said, i'm playing it as a movie in my head.

Miley: Has long brown hair, on the short side but not as short as me, normal weight. Kind of boring-looking, which is why I never bothered with it before.

Eric: About as tall as Miley (it gets specific-er in the next chapter), blonde/brown hair (if you've ever seen my sister it's that color) but more to the blonde side, but i havent imagined him in detail from the shoulders down. So you can draw your own conclusion there.

Luke: One of the only characters i've imagined in detail. Very tall and kind of bulky (not fat) with dark hair, wears baggy clothes (mostly black), kind of stoner-looking.

Vanessa: Also, more in detail than the main characters. Why? I don't know. Brownish black hair, crimped, with different color streaks in it (it varies but usually dark purple) and dresses mainly in black and purple. The outfit i usually see her in is black tights, black skirt, black and purple shirt, bracelet and necklace. Lol this is actually kind of fun. I don't know why.

Jess: Long brown hair, tall, usually dresses in yellow.

Alright so that was my long unnecessary description thing. See you at Part 10!

Also: if you thought that they looked a certain way, tell me. i always find it funny to hear that for some reason.

Thursday, October 12, 2006

Blog Story, P9

Oh no...the dreaded...TIME JUMP!! *sobs* i'm sorry but it can't be helped.

And hey, know what i just realized? this story is going to END soon. Not really soon, but it must end. And that's just sad. Plus, then i have to get used to blogging about *gulps* MY LIFE.



I opened up my locker, searching for my german notebook. If i didnt find it, frau would totally kill me.

Aha! Got it. I pulled it out of my locker, slamming it shut. If i walked fast i could just make it.


I looked up to see Luke standing there, all tall and huge.

"Hey back."

Needless to say, i was way late to German.


It was the day before homecoming. A week and a half had passed since that huge blowup with Eric, and i had to say, i was getting along perfectly fine. Jess had "forgiven" me (whatever) and we were talking again. Mostly about how she had gotten the role of "young cosette" or however you spell that, in les miserables. She couldnt stop blabbing on and on about new york and auditions and how she was "glad i didnt waste my time on trivial things like SCHOOL musicals". She was leaving soon, but it's not like i was going to miss her too much.

In the books, the heroine always manages to completley avoid the person she's mad at. They usually don't have inconvinient things like rehersals in their way. Since i couldnt talk to Eric, i had started hanging out with Vanessa during rehersals. I had no idea that you could be friends with someone who wasnt male didnt totally freak out at every available opportunity. We have the best Mr. Phillips act together EVER. We're thinking about selling tickets.

Rehersing songs with Eric is too uncomfortable to talk about, so i wont go into detail with that. Just that we had to act likewe didnt hate each other and failed.

At the end of practice, Mr. Phillips reminded us that there was a dress rehersal friday night, and that we were representing "The Woodland High Eagles."

And i thought:

I am a Woodland High Eagle.



"Ummm....that one! No, that one! No..."

I stood in the middle of the store while Vanessa ran around , grabbing practically every dress in the store off of the racks. What did i get myself into?

This all started after i got home from rehersal Wednesday. My mom, to my surprise, was actually siting in the kitchen at four in the afternoon.

Not like she was cooking or anything mom-like. She was sitting there, tapping away on her laptop. But as soon as she saw me, she actually closed it and looked up.

I checked out the window to make sure there wasnt anything blowing up or aliens holding up the house.

"Miley, good. Come sit down." I pulled up a chair and sat. "Now, i'm aware that you're going out with Luke on Saturday. The thing is, i'm not sure if your father and i will have time to babysit." I realized how weird it was that they, the parents, referred to them spending time with their own kids babysitting. "Do you think that there's any way you could change the date of this, ah, homecoming?"

I tried to stop myself from smiling. "Um, homecoming is pretty much set in stone, Mom. Sorry."

"Ah. Well, i suppose we'll have to move some things around."

I stood up, then sat back down. "Can i go?"

"Yes, Miley. Oh, wait-"

I turned around. "Yeah?"

"You have a dress, right?" My eyes widened and my mom looked at me questioningly. Then i smiled and said, "Of course!"

That was when i called Vanessa. "You want to go to the mall with me tomorrow after school? I sort of need a dress..."

And now i was standing here while she piled dress after dress onto me and steered me into the dressing room.

"I can't beleive that you FORGOT to buy a dress for Homecoming," she said through the door.

"Yeah, yeah," I said, pulling something red and sparkly over my head. "I sort of hate shopping, but aside from wearing that ugly dress that i have to wear in the first act, i have no other options." I walked out of the little booth and twirled. "What do you think?"

"You look like a chandelier. Next. there something weird going on between you and Eric?"

"Umm...why do you ask?" I tried to maneuver a blue dress with a ton of straps off of a hanger.

"Because you used to talk to him all the time. Now-" I walked out in the blue strappy thing "-ew, take that off. Now you hardly ever look at him."

"Well...he sort of had this thing with my boyfriend...he got really mad and jerk-ish and stuff."

"Oh, I get it."

"Well then maybe you could help me, cuz i sure don't."

"I think he likes you."

I stopped trying to untagle myself from the blue dress and yelled, "WHAT? There's no way. I mean, this is ERIC we're talking about here. He could never like me."

"Why not? Oh, here, try this on." She threw a poofy yellow dress over the top.

"Well, i'm totally not his type. He goes for the whole 'Flick my hair, bat my eyelashes, i'll bake you cookies', perfect, skinny type. He hasnt dated anyone who could kick his ass as fully as i could."

"Uh huh..." She sounded skeptical.

"Trust me, it could never happen. It's, ya know, Eric. What do you think of the yellow one?"

"That's really cute, actually. Okay, we can leave now."

"Thank God."

We payed for the dress and left. But it was like she had put this idea in my head and it wouldnt go away. Eric couldnt like me because it was phisically impossible. Seriously. As nice as Eric was (note the was), he only dated really, really stupid people. It was like a trend.

So i put the idea outside of my mind and concentrated on the fact that there were Auntie Ann's pretzels right in front of me.


I walked into the overcrowded, noisy gym with Luke at my side. I was wearing the yellow dress, and i actually felt girly for once. So what if my hands were still sort of tinted green from the dress rehersal? It wasnt THAT noticable. I don't think.

Anyways, the gym was so noisy that i doubt my head falling off would have been noticable. The base on the speakers was turned up so loud that you couldnt tell what song was playing. All my friends were on the outskirts. But i noticed that all of Luke's friends were in the mosh pit, which was a place that i really didnt want to go. Luckily, they all came running out with their dates, girls that i didnt really know, but we were all sort of in the same boat here. They all slapped high fives and said "Dude" a lot, and we stood around awkwardly.

"I like your dress," Mia, Henry's girlfriend, shouted over the noise.

"Thanks," I yelled back. We stood around for about an hour, which is when i realized that dances with boyfriends were no fun. At least, not with Luke. I hadnt seen a single one of my friends yet, and i didnt know if i was really supposed to leave Luke. But then i saw Eric standing right near us, and i screamed at Luke that i was going to go get some water. He shrugged and i left.

Getting out of the gym was hard, but getting back in was harder. The whole process took, i kid you not, half an hour to do.

So when i walked back in I expected Luke to be really pissed. Just cuz he was Luke and that is what he does.

I did not expect to see what i did, which was him and some random blode girl who i had never seen making out against a wall.

It was like i was outside of myself. I couldnt tear my eyes away, and i started to see the scene from the wall across the room: a stupid, short girl wearing a stupid, puffy dress, carrying a cup of water in her hand, and the girl had been on top of the world for a couple of weeks and then it all crashed. It was stupid, and then i saw Eric standing there staring at the whole scene, and then i dropped my water (it was actually more like my hand stopped remembering to hold it) and turned and ran as fast as i could in heels.

I busted through the caution tape surrounding the coat check, just broke right through it. An outraged mom came up and started yelling at me, but i just took my purse and my stupid shawl thing and ran. It was like i was on the barest autopilot. I walked out the doors and halfway down the steps like a zombie.

That was when my legs gave out and i started crying. Actually, i was sobbing, really hard, and i havent done that since i was four. It was really pathetic and i knew that i had to move or the coat check mom would come after me with the Glock that was inevitably hidden under that really ugly sweater, but i couldnt.

And then to make matters worse, i heard someone walking up. I looked up, and of course it was Eric because fate hates me.

I braced myself for the speech, the whole I-told-you-so thing, but he didnt say anything. He just sat down right next to me.


Tuesday, October 10, 2006

Blog Story, P8

I shook my hair out of my eyes as i stared at the clock. Study Hall was really boring after you finish your homework. Plus I couldnt stop thinking.


This sucked.

Not only was Jess still dramatically giving me the cold shoulder for hanging up on her, but i was this close to tearing off Eric's head.

I mean, he didnt have to be such a huge jerk when Luke came up to me to ask me for the answers to a couple of Science class. He wasnt so bad anymore. I had actually had a couple of moments daily where i didnt want to stab him through the heart with a pencil. You could say that i was tolerating him. Or possibly even...liking him. Not in the "Oh, he looked at me, someone catch me" kind of way, but i was definatley interested.


Eight minutes left.

I tried to concentrate on the fact that there was a very entertaining birdfight happenening between the school roof's territorial robins and idiotic pigeons that almost everyone else in the room was fixated on. But i was still kind of wondering what i had done that was so horrible. I hadnt really yelled at Eric, just snipped a little. What was it...some comment about how absoulutley stupid he was being. Well, that wasnt nice, but neither was him practically biting off Luke's head for no reason.

"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!" yelled a couple of jocks.

"God, it's a couple of animals, not your friends. Although...never mind, carry on," Vanessa said, rolling her eyes at me. I smirked and nodded back. Nothing like the idocy of football to bond over.


Study hall was over. Time for science.

I spent pretty much the entire time trying to avoid burning myself with the bunsen burner. I didnt know that paper caught on fire so easy.

When i walked out of class, I saw Eric out of the corner of my eye. I knew he was waiting for me. I started to turn, and if i had done it a second sooner i would have walked down the hall with him, gone to Lunch, and you wouldnt be reading this right now. It sort of blows your mind when you think about it. Like, if you had made a single change in something you did, a second, a millisecond even, it could totally change your life.

You shouldnt think like that. Because then you spend your entire life second-guessing. But you can't help wondering sometimes, What if...?

Because if i had stayed behind or chosen another moment to walk out that door, turned a second sooner, moved a little faster, Luke would never have grabbed my arm, spun me around and said, "Miley, do you want to go to Homecoming with me?"

I had no idea what to say to that. Did i like him? Yeah, a little. But did i like him enough?

That was Eric's cue to run up and go, "Hey, Miley, we're going to be late for lunch. You should come with me," and try to pull me away.

And really, that was what made up my mind. I shook him off, gave Luke a big smile, and said, "Sure."

It was a mistake. It was mean, really, because i did it 45% because of my semi-feelings for Luke, but 55% was because i wanted to show Eric that i could take care of myself. That was it. The point that i chose wasnt even the majority, and that was stupid.

And then Eric took his hand off my arm, Luke said "Cool," and walked away, and i turned around to find Eric...but he wasnt there. I was standing there in a sea of backpacks and feeling a little mixture of happiness and sadness. It was a sign, you could say, but i ignored it and walked down to lunch.

I looked through the crowd until i spotted him, then jumped on his back. He proceeded to practically colapse. "What the--" Eric said, turning around. "Oh. Hey. You know, you probably shouldnt jump on me like that. I'm going to develop a back condition." His voice wasnt mad, just completley devoid of emotion.

"Come on. I don't want to fight. We're acting like Laguna Beach on downers here, and you know how much i hate that show." I hoped that he would laugh, but he didnt.

"You knew that i didnt like that guy, but that didnt stop you."

Like it was his choice? "Um, need i remind you of Amber? Jeanette? Meg? I pretty much hated them, but THAT didnt stop YOU."

"It's a different situation," he mumbled.

"How?" I asked. More like exploded, but I'm writing this so i get to decide. "Because they were all younger or older than us and i didnt have to deal with them on a regular basis? Get real."

"You know, you can be incredibly self-centered sometimes."

"ME??? What about YOU??? You want me to measure my dates up to your standards? If you remember, i never said anything about Jeanette's tendency to laugh like a deranged hyena until AFTER you stopped liking her. And Meg kept hinting at me to lose weight, and you knew it, but you didnt stop her. Need i go on?" I knew that we were making a big scene, but i couldnt beleive it. My friends are all i have, really, considering that the only way i'm considered important in my family is in the role of live-in babysitter. When they're mean to me, it cuts me deeper than anything else. But I'd never tell them that because i like to keep up a tough exterior. I don't know why, but it's how i am. And now Eric was essentially beating me into the ground. My only reaction was to beat back.

He was looking more uncomfortable by the second, but he had this stupid look on his face. "I still think--"

"To hell with what you think!" I screamed. "I don't care anymore! You're not my mom or dad or brother or boyfriend! When that situation arises, feel free to be protective and chauvanist and all the other things you want, but until then, BACK OFF!" I spat the last two words in his face, turned around, and walked out of the lunchroom.

The shaky feeling inside of me told me that this wasnt a normal fight. This was bigger. We usually had fights when we were IMing or something, when we didnt have to go through the exertion of yelling or actually see the other person's reaction. It was like something snapped or disappeared. It was all too much drama. I walked down to my next class, realizing that i hadnt eaten lunch.

Stupid, stupid dramatics.

Friday, October 06, 2006

Blog Story, P7

"How could he DO this to me?"

"Well, Jess, you werent really going out."

"We PRACTIALLY were. And then he goes and...and...TALKS to her!"

I rolled my eyes, mostly because Jess couldnt see me. I was on the phone, halfway babysitting, halfway working, and putting about .00001% of my energy into comforting Jess. Some guy from Health 2 had IMed her and flirted with her, and then gone and had the complete NERVE to *gasp* TALK TO ANOTHER GIRL!! What a travesty! Not.

I tuned back into the screeching coming out of the phone behind the counter at I-Skreem. Ted was trying to get my siblings and the same friends that they had in there last time to taste-test one of his concoctions, which i had totally watched him make, to make sure he didnt confuse motor fluid with chocolate syrup. We had had a total of ten customers all day. A winter Tuesday afternoon isnt the most popular time for ice cream. Most of the cash flow is on Friday, Saturday and Sunday.

"Come on, just try it. It's not going to kill you," Ted said to Blaire. She looked up at me skeptically.

"Nothing that isnt edible to at least one human being on the face of the planet in there," I said. On the other end of the line, Jess yelled "MILEY! Are you listening?"

"Look, i got the gist of it. You're mad. Why don't you talk to him? He must have some explanation."

"I promise that it's really good." Ted handed Blaire the spoon.

"It is NOT really good!" she yelled.

"Oh, i already HEARD his lame explanations. He said that he was asking her for the HOMEWORK. As if!" Jess made a series of outraged noises.

"And you don't beleive him because...?"

"How do you know that it's not really good? You havent even tried it!"

"It looks like guts is why!"

"It does not look like guts! You take that back!"

"Because he didnt tell me about it! He was HIDING something!"

"Guts, guts, guts!"


"EVERYBODY JUST SHUT UP!" I screamed, hanging up the phone. The entire place went silent, THANK GOD. The downside was that they were all staring.

Ever have one of those days??

Dress-Up and Dancing

That's me in the ugly-beyond-beleif dress that my mom wore to some wedding. it used to have a HUGE bow on the back but i pulled it off. Look how brown my hair looks....yeah well the story behind this dress is that me and my sister were totally bored on monday when we had no school. soooooo we did dress-up! Yes, i'm 14 and i play dress-up.

And don't worry, i didnt dance in the dress.


Sunday, October 01, 2006

Blog Story, P6

"Come on, Ryan. You're not reading a grocery list, you are SINGING. It is EMOTIONAL. It is IMPORTANT. It is COHERENT. Let's try it again, from the top."

I leaned back in the squeaky auditorium chair and sighed. Next to me, Eric was falling asleep and Vanessa (Nessarose) was mouthing the words to the song that Ryan (the Wizard) was singing with a pained expression on her face akin to the one that the Drivers Ed teacher wears when you go to fast or screech around a corner. Everyone else was doing homework, talking, or just generally goofing off while Mr. Phillips took turns yelling at Ryan and telling him to "emote" and talking about how "it's a story about poetic justice and yelling "Quiet!" or "Pay attention!" at us. Practice was two hours, one of which had been taken up by "A Sentimental Man".

I elbowed Eric in the ribs. If i had to stay awake, so did he. Because, i swear, i'm in almost every song. It doesnt matter that i only have two lines in "Popular" ("you really don't have to do that" "I have to go") and Wonderful ("so you lied to them" "it does sound wonderful") I have to sit up there on that stage for as long as it takes Clara (Glinda) to hit that high note. We havent even started on choreography yet, either. Grr.

"Alright, that's enough for today, Ryan. Work on that for next time. Glinda, Elphaba, get up here and get ready for "As Long As You're Mine". I avoided looking at Eric and walked up on the stage. I don't care if we were talking again, it was still awkward telling him to "Kiss me too fiercly/ hold me too tight", even if technically i wasnt telling HIM or as ME, but as characters. That's how Jess told me to think of it anyways. She's kind of pissed that i got the lead and she didnt, even though she didnt try out. She decided when she was about three that she was going to be on Broadway, but considered school plays below her. Especially now that Mr. Phillips was directing. Still, that didnt explain the way she kept going, "Well, if you had told ME about it, I would be Elphaba and you wouldnt have to worry about it." Seriously. This girl is supposed to be my best friend. Or so she says, anyways.

The piano started playing, and i took a deep breath.


I let out the breath in a big whoosh. Next to me, Eric was looking annoyed. "We didnt even start yet. How could we be doing anything wrong?" he said. But not loud enough that Mr. Phillips could hear him.

"Elphaba," (he has this annoying habit of calling us by our character names instead of our real ones) "you aren't breathing right. You have to breathe from the diaphram. Like so." I clenched my hands into fists and tried not to lunge off the stage at his throat. Not BREATHING right??

I took another deep breath. "Ki--"

The seceratary's voice blared out of the speakers. "Attention all teachers: someone has parked their blue Jeep in the red zone. Again, someone has parked their blue Jeep in the red zone." Mr. Phillips suddenly seemed very intent on studying his official-looking clipboard.

"Ah, from the top. Lilly? Play the opening."

I did the screchy things at the beginning that Mr. Phillips calls "falsetto" (he was pretty much horrified that i didnt know what it was. at least i didnt tell him that i thought it was a pastry, or i'm pretty sure he would have kicked me out. although that's seeming like a viable option right now), then started the song. Halfway into the song, just as Eric was singing, "But you've got me seeing through different eyes", the loudspeaker beeped again. "Attention ALL TEACHERS AND STUDENTS: we have called tow trucks, and they are coming for that car unless you move it immediatley." Mr. Phillips snapped his head up and said, "You know what, that was really, um, perfect, you two. I'll be right back." He threw the clipboard on the piano and all but ran out.

So in the end, we ended up starting a total revolt. Seriously, if anyone had ever told me that unsupervised theatre was so much fun, i would have killed off all adults long ago. Plus, the guy who played Boq was one of those people who know absoloutly everything about stage crew and sound systems, and he hooked up Eric's iPod to play all those stupid show tunes that he liked, plus the crazy frog songs, which he swears arent his. I'm so sure.

And then when we all left, we were rewarded with the very amusing sight of mr. phillips screaming at the tow truck guys as they tried to drive away with his car.

How's that for poetic justice?