I painted my toenails red.  Now it looks like my feet are hemmorhaging.  (Colouring inside the lines is for conformists!)

Wow.  Yesterday was so busy.  But so fun.  I swear, I haven't had a weekend in probably a month, but that's okay.  Being busy takes my mind off those things I prefer not to dwell on.

Up and out of the house by 8:30 on a Saturday.  Should high school students even be coming out of a REM cycle by 8:30?  I think not.  Rehearse Macbeth for two hours.  Rehearse-rehearse-rehearse-getdaggerpointedataveryvitalarteryduringonescene-rehearse-rehearse-rehearse.  Leave promptly thereafter for combat training.  Drill target zones, cuts, and slices.  Almost fall over during a circling exercise (I am grace).  Then we performed a most pernicious exercise that pretty much involved us lunging, sword straight out, empty hand stretched behind us, and standing there for almost two minutes.  Then simply thrusting, sword straight out, empty hand stretched out behind us, for almost two minutes.  Oh Christ.  My right bicep and forearm (which I guess technically speaking is the entire arm) are still screaming in their death throes.  It's a wonder I haven't died from rhobdomylasia, if I have the term correct, which is when muscle tissue is heinously overworked and sheds into the bloodstream, and you die.  (I have now made everyone who reads this absolutely paranoid about exercise.  YES!)

Go home for two hours.  Yayyyyyy, respite!

Aaaaand-then-go-dancing-until-11:00.  Best part of the entire friggin' day.  I have some serious black marks where my shoes were.  Learned two different ways of getting into the Cable Car/Candlestick, both of which in my opinion leave much more room for error/dropping/too much work on the guy's part.  Was mistaken for a rower by a Vandy student (apparently I have distinctive calluses -- who knew?)  (We blamed the sword.)  And I actually remembered names this time.  Nono, this is an amazing occurrence.  I am so not a names person it's unreal.  In plays, I'll call people by their character name until somewhere close to opening night.

Speaking of opening night.... Macbeth opens the 15th.  Diabolically enough, my mom has back surgery that day.  ARG.  I blame neither, this is just a very inconvenient congruity.  Tech week will begin shortly, and everyone is going to hate the play and each other until curtain call on that first night.  Somehow, that's always how pre-play emotions pan out.