02/11/2002 - 12:30 a.m.

You look frenzied, you look frazzled.

I spent the past nine hours at the SWT. I've not eaten anything but junk all day; two Pringles, a Cherry Pepsi, a bag of Fritos and two nasty nasty nasty fun sized Musketeers. I hate American chocolate so much, it's like eating a spoonful of sugared chemicals- no substance, no mellow chocolate flavour, just harsh painful burning chocolate that stays in your mouth because those chemicals are there to make that damned bar live on the shelf forever.

So, I feel disgusting and tired. I have seven light cues. Laurie has eight. Two of mine are lighting the conductor. Laurie feels cheated. Ah well. However, we get to leave after the bitch fight song between the second alto and the soprano. That's an hour from it being over.

Tomorrow my grandmother is coming with my father. I almost made up an absolutely mandatory rehearsal that I HAD to be at because my grandmother in her waining years is getting all mushy, and I can't stand it. It's all centred around me because she had four sons and one grandson (my brother), so my being a girl, she adores me, except that she assumes that I'm very girly. I've been given purses and dolls and crap jewellry forever because she likes to buy the stuff. I know, she's an old lady, I should humour her...

This tell anybody exactly how much I want to see Fiddler? Not that anyone's going to care much. I want to do something 'specially for Ren, but then I'd feel bad not doing something for everybody else, so I don't know what to do. I mean, I don't know what Elena and Abby are doing for the show, and I've no idea anything else except Marnie and Maura are assistant directors. Oh, and my brother. I guess I have to assume Maria's doing props. So I feel bad just doing something for Ren. I feel she does deserve it, because she thinks that she's not good for much and that's such crap. 'Course, the rest of them think the same things about themselves, and so did I.

Course, if I did anything, I wouldn't be playing the alumni very well. Usually when alumni came back they talk to Glawe and ignore everybody else.

Somebody in the guy's house down the hall's getting busted for pot. The whole hall smells of it. Seriously strong. There are some solemn looking campus security people and a couple cops here. I don't know why cops make people feel safe, they don't do that for me. They just make me feel I'm doing something wrong and no matter what I do the trigger happy bastards are going to blow me away. Sorry to people who love the coppers, I can't. They've never done anything to prove to me they're the good guys. They just stand there acting all superior and "the law" with their big guns and I wonder how special they'd feel if we took their guns away from them.

Not that I've ever done anything illegal in my life other than minor copywright plagarism like everybody else- copied CD's and photocopied music and scripts and downloaded a few MP3's. My parties aren't being busted up and I'm not stealing and I have nothing to get caught doing. I simply feel much less safe knowing there's a cop around.

Lordy, it's November today. The month from hell has passed and turned into the "holiday season". Not to mention that Menard's has been playing their Christmas commercial since about August.

OK, time for me to go to bed. Expect a full review of Fiddler on Sunday.