story update : wow. i'm actually writing something.
feeling : part sad, part happy.
working on : bats; and other creatures of the night
listening to : springtime for hitler -- the producers ost
reading : the memoirs of cleopatra -- margaret george.
watching : the producers.
[o.m.g. this is so... such... so much... laughter... omg. see this movie. NOW.]
in dire need of :
are you there, god? it's me, katherine.
i've been pretty good this year, dontcha think?
i mean, a lot of people have been a lot worse.
and, youdamnit, i just deserve a jensen ackles for my very own!!
[we tell the tale of sweeny todd...]
So my bestie and I went to what we thought would be an intensely awesome show last night. For one night only, "Sweeny Todd" had come to our podunk-town's center for performing arts for one night only. I insisted Courtney get tickets. I was excited.
I'm not exactly a blood and guts person, so I wasn't too keen on watching the movie. You can't exactly spray blood on the audience in an on-stage production.
But. It. Sucked.
It was this sort of minimalist version, only ten cast members, who all played instruments. On stage. As in, there was no orchestra pit. The actors played their own accompniament. There was one set. There was a coffin. The coffin, moved into different positions by the actors [who were also apparently on tech duty] was supposed to signify the changing of locations. I was so. Plicking. Lost.
We left at intermission.
It sucked.
It sucked eggs.
So we came home and watched the movie. I could understand the lyrics. I knew what was going on. It was so... refreshing! [of course, i had to cover my face with courtney for half the movie because of all the spurting and gushing that tim burton decided to put in. thanks, dood burton. thanks.]
Did I mention that it sucked?
Blegh. No more. I canna talk about it anymore. So much suckage is dangerous to my health.
Siriusly.
So that's it. The End.
Lovely.
p.s. if you're a theatre person, do not give in to the seemingly "innovative minimalist" thing. it sucks.
ETA 9.28||7.13p
OMG. katherine is totally writing Bats. Since you've all been waiting forever and a day for it to show up, I've decided to be uber-generous and post the nearly-page that I have. Because you deserve it. :D
Rosa sat in the Batmobile, clinging on to Rachel for dear life. It did seem a bit unorthodox to be relying on someone in a condition like Rachel's for life support, but Rosa just wasn't built for this kind of… adrenaline rush? No, that wasn't it. Blatantly flinging one's life in to the jaws of death and shouting "Na na na na boo boo! Betcha can't catch me!!" at the slanted red eyes that sat there. Which was all well and good for a person who was used to throwing themselves off of skyscrapers, trusting to nothing but some fabric with unearthly qualities to keep them from becoming a statistic splat on Gotham's sidewalk, but for someone who was used to just a little more than the average person's encounters with terror, might have been a little too much.
And for Rachel, who never had the opportunity to look at Death face-on, but was immersed in a world of horrors, the antics of Bruce Wayne in his Batmobile were liable to take her over the edge.
Rosa hadn't noticed, but the Machine of Death was now stationary. She wasn't sure how many cop cars they had run over or veered off the roadway, or possibly even blown up. She tried not to think about her fellow officers now sitting, dumbfounded, in their own cars, watching the aftermath of a car that could fly, shoot, and generally intimidate the public at large.
She wasn't aware, then, of Batman smoothly getting out of the driver's side of the Batmobile and leaping over the car's hood to the passenger's side, where he had just a little bit of trouble extracting Rachel from Rosa's suction grip. He carried Rachel off as Rosa stared straight ahead, not yet out shock, to a streamlined table paces away from the Tumbler. It was perhaps five minutes between the time that Batman left, that he returned to the Batmobile, arms hanging heavily at his sides.
That was when Rosa decided to return to the present.
"You…! We…! Where are we?! What the fu...?!"
"… We're in the Bat Cave."
"Oh. The Bat Cave. Well, that explains everything." Rosa took this opportunity to try and stagger out of the car, her dress snagging on some… sticky-outy thing, She landed on her sprained ankle, and bit her lips so she wouldn’t make some sort of sound of pain.
And there you have it. My eyes are doing that twitchy thing they do when they're tired, so the update will probably be out not tonight. Fabulous.
the eternal answer to tagging; also known as the preemptive strike. 1. I own more soundtracks to movies/musicals than any other person I know. Cue : Hairspray. Okay, well everyone has that soundtrack. Cue : Legally Blonde the Musical. HA! Gotcha there.
2. I have never ever ever ever in my entire life watched American Idol. I hardly watch TV. I was not affected by the writer's strike, because most of what I watch is already written - like classic movies. Never have to worry about writers striking there - those people are all dead.
3. I'm pretty sure that Nikki is going to e-strangle or e-quarter and e-draw me when she reads the end to Bats; and Other Creatures of the Night. Because it's just something she'd do. Nikki, I'd love it if it could be quick and painless. Please. Think of the good times.
4. If I had to pick a song that encompassed my life the most, it would be "Superman" by Five For Fighting. Some of you won't get that -- don't feel bad.
5. If someone were to play me in a movie, I'm pretty sure I'd pick Ellen Page. I think she could deliver my brand of humor almost as well as I do in real life. Plus she's not an attention grabbing tween queen who posts naughty pictures of herself on the web. Thank you very much, all you Disney actresses. :P
6. I rarely laugh or cry when reading or watching movies. One movie can make me cry : Pay it Forward. It starts at precisely the same time every watching - when the mom wakes up to find all the people outside with the candles and that "Calling All Angels" song is playing... Oh my God, I'm seriously tearing up right now. THINK FUNNY! THINK FUNNY!! Okay. Crisis averted. Sort of.
7. If someone were to vote me "The Most Likely..." to do something, I think it would be "Most Likely to Give You A Hernia From Laughter." At least, that's what I hope it would be.
8. I really love the movie O Brother, Where Art Thou?. My friends can't understand it (me or the movie) and apparently, it's a good movie to like around grown-up people because they're all like, "Hmmm, oh yes, the symbolism..." and such things. Whatever. I just like the movie.
9. The person that makes me break out into spontaneous laughter the most is my homie City. Because I get predicatble answers to my jokiness, and then I get City answers to my jokiness. It's almost offending - she has the gall to be on my level of wittiness. City, one day, we are so taking this outside.
10. I have very strange, realistic, and plotted through dreams. I remember them after I wake up, and they are a great source of entertainment to my friends. If you ever get the time, please ask about the 20's/Cinderella/Danny Devito dream. My laughter bubbles are coming up just thinking about it. Ohhhh my God. Oh... my God. *is now laughing hysterically and has forgotten all about Pay it... Damn.