Posts Tagged ‘musical theatre’

Now I just need to get to new york to see this cast…my life will not be complete otherwise.

My life will, in fact, be complete.

A few weeks ago my parents surprised me by saying the words I have been wanting to hear all summer:

We’re going to New York City.

The trip is happening this Thanksgiving weekend – a week after my birthday. The adventure will commence on Friday morning when my parents arrive in Kingston to pick up myself and my wonderful friend Ally. She’s my guest on our weekend in NYC because she’s a very good friend of mine and this trip and seeing Hair will be equally as important to her as it will to me, as she is one of the people I have been obsessing with all summer. Seriously, when we’d email at work, for at least two months our emails opened with a different quote from the soundtrack. I’m sure that if you piece together the random quotes we shared you could have the whole soundtrack. Hahah. Once we ran out of Hair quotes we moved onto Harry Potter quotes, and for at least a month we played “Amorentia, Imperius, Avada Kedavra” in each of our emails. Two peas, I tell you.

Anyway, back to the trip. We’re driving to New York City on Friday, then we’ll check into our hotel and go out on the town for dinner and everything. Saturday we will do some touristy things, walk through Central Park, 5th avenue, Times Square Magnolia bakery, FAO Schwarz, Tiffany’s etc etc. Saturday night is when Ally and I are going to see Hair, which will be sooo amazing.  After the show we will obviously go to the stage door and meet our idols (Gavin Creel, Allison Case, Caissie Levy, Kacie Sheik, Andrew Kober, Bryce Ryness, Will Swenson and the list goes on). I’m sure that we will be too excited to even think, let alone go to bed, so we’ll be out on the town until it’s socially unacceptable. Sunday we will be extending our stay as long as possible then we’ll be heading back to Kingston where my parents will be staying until they head back to toronto on the holiday monday.

Ally, my parents and I have been talking about the trip for about a month but even still it seems entirely surreal – like a dream. I’ve wanted to see the show since May and talked about having to go to NY, but never did I think I’d actually get there.

My first Broadway show…wow.


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So,  I’ve been absent recently. I have no excuse other than that I have been at work every day since the beginning of May and therefore, not on the computer very often, because once I get home from work, where I stare at a computer screen all day, the last thing I want to do is go on the computer.

So, there.

Nothing much has happened since I got off school. I re-decorated my room, which is nice because, well, my room’s nice now. I also went to kingston for a weekend to visit friends which resulted in A LOT of drunken pictures, which are hilarious and surprisingly some of the best pictures of us…funny how that works…

But most of all, I’ve been listening and obsessing over the Broadway revival of the 1968 musical, HAIR. Words can honestly not describe the amount of awesome that radiates from the beautiful human beings that make up this new cast. There’s Gavin Creel, the beautiful, charming, marriage equality activist who plays the main character, Claude; Will Swenson, hilarious, witty and the perfect Burger; and my favourite…Allison Case. She only has a small role, but when you watch her, you cannot take your eyes off her. I’ve only seen youtube clips, but I swear she radiates the emotion of the entire cast through her face…it’s brilliant. I want to grow up to be her.

Now I just need to get to new york to see this cast…my life will not be complete otherwise.

Peace. Flowers. Freedom. Happiness. and of course…

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Yesterday (post blog) turned out a day where everything in it was just a huge joke. Fittingly, it was April Fool’s day, although none of these moments where I thought, “my life is a joke”, was an April Fools day prank. The day was productive, however, and I only came out of it with one wound. Allow me to illustrate (metaphorically, because you don’t really want to see this wound, it’s kinda gross):

It was a rainy day on campus and Samantha was walking along, determined, and carrying an umbrella when suddenly, an evil gust of Kingston wind came and flipped her umbrella inside out. At this point, she was in the middle of the road, j-walking on a green light and so she hurried out of the way as to avoid being pummeled by an oncoming SUV, while at the same time fixing her umbrella so she wouldn’t be absolutely sodden. Thinking her life was back together, Samantha composed herself and stepped up onto the sidewalk. She was mistaken. The day of foolery was out to get her yet again. The rubber sole of her keds grabbed the curb and sent her toppling to the ground, the weight of her heavy book bag speeding up the fall. Her umbrella was inside out yet again and, having fallen in a shallow puddle, was completely soaked. As she pulled herself up and tried to maintain her dignity as several off her peers looked on, chuckling to themselves, she noticed a stinging pain originating from around her right knee. Looking down she noticed that her favourite, bright yellow tights were spotted with blood. Upon returning home she examined her knee to see that she had skinned it and it was starting to excrete a fluid that, upon initial examination, was not blood.

Her only victory in this one event of a day of (unfunny) jokes: she did not rip her favourite, bright yellow tights.


My knee is still excreting strange substances. I’m not a fan.

But today’s better! The weather’s gorgeous, therefore I do not have to wrestle with any umbrellas, I’ve handed in my final paper (which is awesome by the way, will discuss my amazing topic soon), and I only have two classes left (one today and one tomorrow) until I’m finished second year. A couple weeks ago I didn’t think I’d make it through this week, but I did! And successfully! (save for a skinned knee) Now I get to relax this weekend, I’ll work on my take-home for Hebrew Scriptures for a bit, but mostly I’m just going to relax until I have to start studying for my literary criticism exam on the 13th.

Tonight should be exciting. I believe that I’m going to the Last Lecture on Earth Series final lecture tonight at the Common Ground, which is featuring everyone’s favourite PoliSci prof, Kim Nossal, famous for the pols 110 drinking game that takes his name, in his last lecture before he goes on sabbatical. Afterwards I’m going to my friend Ally’s house to watch the final Broadway performance of RENT on dvd with some other RENTheads. It will be a blast. One of my friends who is going has never seen or heard RENT at all, so basically his head’s going to explode from the amount of awesome that will be in that living room. I’m pretty pumped.

On another note, my housemates and I have a countdown going until we’re finished exams (on the 25th). For my 19th birthday I was given a bottle of Pol Roger champagne which, for those that don’t know, is a very expensive bottle of champagne, so of course I wanted to save it for a special occasion. When I found out that we’d all be finished exams at the same time I figured that on the night of the 25th we’d open this bottle, get out drink on, drink more, and then rage. So the bottle’s in our kitchen with a post-it note countdown on it. So, without further ado, the Pol Roger Countdown:

23 DAYS!

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and my junk is you.


they say you never forget your first time…

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There’s this great Broadway show (which, sadly, closed back in september) called, cleverly, [Title of Show]. [Title of Show] is a musical about two guys writing a musical about two guys writing a musical and, you guessed it, was written by two guys. In addition to providing me with the oh so clever title for essays that I can’t seem to come up with a clever title for – the title being, [Title of Essay] – this show contains one song about creativity and the people who get in the way of your creativity (vampires) called “Die Vampire, Die”. When ever I listen to the ever-hilarious soundtrack there is one quote from this song that always makes me feel, well, like I’m not alone:

The last vampire is the mother of all vampires and that is the vampire of despair.
It’ll wake you up at 4am to say things like:

“Who do you think you’re kidding?”
“You look like a fool.”
“No matter how hard you try, you’ll never be good enough.”

Why is it that if some dude walked up to me on the subway platform 
and said these things, I’d think he was a mentally ill asshole, 
but if the vampire inside my head says it, 

                         It’s the voice of reason.

For the past few months I feel like I’ve been dwindling into this dark pit of nothingness and I can’t seem to find any inspiration, creativity or desire. I have no idea where I want to go or what I want to do with my life, I don’t even know what I want to do this summer, next week even. I can’t even define desire. Today in Literary Criticism we were talking about Lacan’s theory of the Mirror Stage – basically how when you’re a baby and first look at yourself in the mirror, you see your reflection as whole, but because you’re all wobbly and pudgy and awkward you don’t feel as whole as your image, creating your first sense of desire – and the whole time I was feeling this inner sadness build because that is me: I don’t feel whole. Lacan’s theory is that you never feel whole, although your reflection and everyone else around you appears whole, but I can’t even find anything inside me to inspire me to feel even a fraction more complete. My professor then asked us to define desire and I could not for the life of me think of what it meant, maybe because I don’t even know what mine are, or even if I have any. 

At the beginning of this year I had desires, oh did I have them. The overlying desire I had was to make this year far better than last. Last year was fun, no doubt it was fun, but it was mostly fun because of the skating team. The team was my everything, it consumed me. All my friends and best memories from my first year at Queen’s were with those girls. I went into this school year thinking that I’d have that all again to only have it completely taken away from me. The sport I’ve loved and defined who I am was taken away, the team who I love dearly and saw daily for 8 months I now only see on occasion and it’s just not the same, and worst of all, my housemate L, with whom I’ve skated since we were 7, despite living on the other side of my bedroom wall, seems farther away than ever. 

Another desire I had this year was to become an Orientation Committee member for Orientation 2009 at my Uni. I love frosh week more than anything and I think the first week back at school this year will forever be my best, but again I wanted to top that week by being an OC. I work for hours on my application, prepared vigorously for my 4 on 1 interview with the Chairs only to yet again have my heart broken by not making the cut for the 2nd round of interviews. It wasn’t quite as devastating as not making the skating team, had I been on the team I may not have been sad at all, but not being on that list just brought memories of skating back to me and again, I felt like I had nothing. 

I still feel like I have nothing, or at least nothing to be passionate about. Skating was my passion throughout my entire life, Frosh week became my passion here at Queen’s the second I donned my Yellow frosh t-shirt and coveralls and now, what do I have left? Harry Potter and a city on the other side of the Atlantic? For the first time in my life (or at least since I was 10), hopping on the Hogwarts Express and heading off into that wonderful world just doesn’t seem like enough. God, it pains me to say that, but I need something more. I need to physically do something and be involved in something that can once again consume my entire being and is so precious and so dear that it breaks my sad little heart if I lose it. I may be a masochist but I crave it because without it, I don’t feel like myself. I don’t even know who I am. 

Right now I’m desperately trying to fill that void by challenging myself to read 52 books this year that have nothing to do with school. I’m really enjoying it because, obviously, I love reading, and sadly the texts I read for school (even as an English Lit. major) do not allow for the escape that a novel or even excellent non-fiction book does because the overlying reality that your future is dependent on your comprehension of that novel/play/poem/essay is forever haunting the experience. I feel like my true happiness really shouldn’t come from escaping from my reality, but I guess that’s what I’ve always done. Whether it be through Harry Potter, my involvement in online HP communities, watching vloggers on YouTube, I’m always escaping. However I’m currently reading The Bell Jar, american poet Sylvia Plath’s only novel and although it’s brilliant and captivating, I’m finding myself relating to Esther Greenwood’s character more than I have ever related to any character in any novel I have ever read. As I read of the ultimately confused 19-year-old english major who has know idea what she wants to do with her life and loses her sense of self, her drive, and her sense of achievement, I see myself and begin to fall with her. I’m only on page 135 so I don’t know how far I’ll fall, but it won’t be anywhere drastic, I promise. 

I’m going to continue with my 1-person book club and hope that somehow I will find myself, my deepest desires and maybe, perhaps, a little bit of a future. But until that happens I’m going to leave you with the ultimate question, as posed by Princeton from Avenue Q:

               What do you do with a B.A. in English? 

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