vanitashaze

Theatre has kind of been a bitch to me lately. Between the production I was in and the productions I was trying to see - and now, of course, the million and one productions I'm trying to figure out how to audition for - I feel like my most recent of mistresses has been very fickle. Our admittedly amateur show goes off awesomely - it's the talk of the town, and when I say it, I mostly mean the male lead and myself - and we get tepid, badly-written (misspelled!) reviews. I finally scrounge up enough money to go see Angels in America: Perestroika, on the last day that it's playing, and because I waited so long the tickets are sold out. (Obviously I'm a little annoyed: see title.)

To top it all off, of course, I would have thought that I'd have more free time after this production finished - to post and write and not be TEARING MY CHEMICALLY-TREATED HAIR OUT BY THE ROOTS - but apparently, no. I felt a void and have endeavored to fill it with dozens of other activities, and I'm only now just realizing that it means I will be just as busy.

I know it's immature to whine about time management, but really, I feel like I could use a little release.