The Aftermath

Putting on a musical is a lot of work. Every year I forget and then re-learn just how many elements need to be put together to put on a show. Advertising & fundraising; costumes, make-up, and hair for the cast (in this case, 74); mic co-ordination, sound effects, music, and lights; and trying to get into a locked theater make for a crazy-amazing experience.

I can't gush enough about how amazing the casts that I've gotten to work with over the past six years are. Some of my peers have become family. Getting dandelion/random weed bouquets from younger kids on the last day is one of the best feelings in the world. I really, really love my fellow cast members.

Theatre itself has taught me so much about myself and what my limits are. I've grown more through the past six years than I ever thought possible. Being onstage with the group for the last time was strange. I was feeling so many things it felt like I was feeling nothing at some points and everything at others. Okay, enough mushiness.

As a high school senior, I'm told every other day to really take in and savor every moment. I came to the conclusion a while ago that I can't really savor moments any more than I do when I just 'live' in the moments. In an attempt to 'savor' my last homeschool musical, I decided to put together a backstage, all-access pass, behind-the-scenes video. Enjoy ;)

Every Girl Needs a Tiara

Because sometimes everything goes wrong. And when that happens, a tiara has the magical power to make problems go away. 

Princesses don't have time for problems. They're too busy being a princess.

I'm Thankful For...

...a theatre family that puts up with me spinning into them, petting a stuffed skunk for half an hour like a crazy person, or nearly ripping their face off instead of their ski-mask/helmet. Fellow cast members that go on adventures to the post office with me to pick up a stage manager's car keys (even if they did plot something sinister with bobby pins and mud holes...).

...a dad who helps me figure out how to fix the program for the musical. Before I could even go into full-on freakout mode...You just needed to save it in 'landscape' instead of 'portrait'...*facepalm*

In case you're wondering, this is what 123 business cards look like. 

...friends who will drive to a friend's wedding to see you for an hour between the ceremony and the reception. And stuff you so full of chicken nuggets and fries that you're barely able to eat any of your 'actual' supper.

...a job at a candy shop. I'll stop talking about it someday, but that day is not today. Last week, for the first time, I got to be the only person working. The first customer I had all by myself said he'd never been in the shop before, but ended up buy five pounds of fudge. He told me his father had esophageal cancer (something I learned about this summer) and that because fudge practically melted in his mouth, he was able to eat it without any pain. This customer also told me how lucky I was to have my first job in a candy shop instead of hauling boxes into trucks. It is pretty cool. Even if kids spit out jelly beans wherever they feel like. 

...the ability to stay in bed most of the day. When it hurts to move and you can't talk, it's a relief to not have to call in sick. All I have to do is tell my mom (in a super-attractive husky voice, that is).

What are some things you're thankful for? :)

Another Post About Adulthood & A Candy Shop Horror Story

Check out my wonderful co-worker :) (We aren't that blurry in real life)

Adulthood is a series of numbers to memorize. That, and paperwork ( I can fill out my basic information backwards, with my eyes closed, and one hand tied behind my back). But mostly numbers. I've learned memorizing your social security number as soon as possible is incredibly helpful. If I would have memorized mine when my mom first suggested it, I could have avoided ten minutes of frantically calling home while in a parking lot, trying to fill out a job application. Uhm, yeah, could you find my social security card? It also would have saved me an awkward half hour of pitiful conversation at our local technical college's registration information night while my mom drove home to get (you guessed it) my social security card.

There's also the responsibility element of adulthood. This has been a thankfully gradual process, I'm not paying for my own food, water, and shelter yet. But I do get to vote this coming week. The excitement I have about getting to wear a 'I Voted' sticker is probably a sign that I'm not as grown up as I'd like to think I am. Another sign is dragging my dad into the bank with me to set up a checking account. 'Do you need me?' 'Well, no...butdon'tleaveme!' 

-I did do the talking, for the record. I even had to give my mother's maiden name for the first time. That was weird.-

Even though I'm no where near 'qualified' to give 'adult advice', to any underage readers out there:

Adulthood is full of 'already adults' who are willing to teach you to 'adult'. 

This includes nice bank workers. Parents. Your boss. Not all grown-ups are scary. Actually, most grown-ups aren't scary at all. They're willing to help. And I definitely need it. :) I needed it when I rang up the wrong total for a customer and I'll need it continuously in the next few weeks months years. 

Random story that I don't have a good transition for: I had a customer come in last week who came straight up to the register and stated he had a special request. He proceeded to say something that, for the life of me, I could not understand. I asked him to repeat it and I still had no idea what he was saying. Assuming that he was asking if something was in stock, I turned to my boss, who was wrapping up a conversation on the phone, and asked Do we?

Turns out the man was asking if I liked Phantom of the Opera because that's what was playing on Pandora station when he came in. The poor man was trying to make conversation and I managed to make him feel very confused.

 The special request turned out to be chocolate in the shape of a skunk, in case you were wondering.