I must be wicked for I shall not rest.
I was up bright and early today. My former English students were performing their versions of A Midsummer Night's Dream and I didn't want to miss it. Seriously though, these kids are very smart and really funny. I wanted to see what they'd come up with. On top of which, last Friday one of my students asked me if I'd be there and I told her I would. I don't break promises. Of course, I did get a few strange looks. The teachers that passed me kind of chuckled and said things like "Can't get enough?" I suppose not. It was all worth it though. At what other point in my life am I going to be able to see a Pirates of the Caribbean inspired Shakespearean adaptation? Or, a gangsta adaptation (I'm ignoring Romeo and Juliet with Leonardo). There was also farmer version, a Glee version and a Jersey Shore version. For the Jersey Shore skit, they had the one girl dress up in a weird skirt. They also had her tuck in her uniform shirt. She had crooked pigtails and huge glasses.
Oh crap... when did they get here? When did I get red curtains? Whatever. I'm just going to continue.
Did she look like a dork? No. Not really.
Stacy, if you're going to be a Doubting Thomas you can leave. I don't need your Doubting Thomastry. Yes, Thomastry. It's a word. Look it up.
As I was saying. Yes, she did look like the stereotypical dork, but at the same time, not so much. Somehow, I don't profess to know how, but it didn't look nearly as awkward as it should have. Isn't it weird how some people can do that? Throw on a horrible outfit and somehow make it work? Meanwhile, I've been raiding my mother's closet for suitable work clothes. I do have to say, for Stacy's sake, that the one boy (he was playing a girl) needed a much better bra. His boobs ended up looking more like a beer-belly by the time his presentation was over. I simply told him that he'd gone through the stages of womanhood at an excelerated rate. He looked kind of terrified at that information. Hey, he wanted G sized boobs... there are consequences.
In any case, the presentations were fun and creative. I rather enjoyed myself.
Aside from all that, I had a relatively quiet day. As quiet as days get when your cat sounds like a lawn mower. We're taking him to the vet tomorrow. Essentially that means I'm going to be the one packing him up in laundry baskets because after eleven years we still don't have a carrier. I'll be the one holding him. And later, when we finally get home, I'll be the one he avoids all day. Yup, kitty holds a grudge. He's going to be super pissed tomorrow because he's not allowed to eat. My cat weighs sixteen pounds. He likes eating almost as much as he likes sleeping. Drama aside, it is kind of funny (in a I can't believe you're trying that kind of way) to watch him try to literally dig his way out of the laundry baskets.
By the way, returning to my original thought regarding my wickedness. I have to be up early tomorrow to take Mr. Kitty to the vet. It's going to be an interesting day. I should film it. Maybe we'll have the psycho vet who thought I was serious when I said I wanted to make a sweater of my cats fur. As a business venture. I'm aware that I'm a little unusual, but I haven't jumped off the crazy cliff yet. I'm still pretty far from the ledge. The worst part is that I wasn't the first person to think of doing that. I was, unfortunately, the only one who was kidding. Gross.
We'll see what adventures await at the vet's tomorrow.