In a word: brilliant.
My ears are ringing. I can feel the ghosts of sweat, blood, and tears dripping off the stage. I can say for a fact that I now fully understand why anyone would want to run away and join the circus. And I am really, really, wholeheartedly sick of glitter.
I’m covered in a fine dusting of sparkles, stress, and actual allergy-inducing dust particles. I’ve seen almost every cast member semi- to nearly fully naked, often cheekily and completely unabashedly. I’ve helped with everything under the sun, from tying ties to making tea to carrying row upon row of glittering blacklights. I’ve stood behind a wall waiting in anticipation of the next costume change, peeking through the curtain to catch my favorite song.
I haven’t eaten since noon and I couldn’t be more full.
OF THE WHOLE FREAKING EXPERIENCE MY GOD
I swore that I wouldn’t try to be melodramatic or poetic but there’s no other way to say it: it was bloody brilliant. I can’t believe I only get to be a part of it three more times.
Three gloriously spectacular shows.
But obviously all anyone wants to see is my face.
I would like to say that the blending looked better in real life. I’m not usually this sloppy, I promise!
This makeup really survived the night; it’s 8 hours later and, as you can see, it’s still going strong, lipstick included! And believe me, there’s been much anticipatory lip-biting.
The less exciting side.
Unfortunately I have now raised the bar on my appearance for the rest of the weekend. Any other poster-based suggestions?
- Holy wow
Why has no one informed me of the wonders of theater?
P.S. Get comfy because I’ll post pictures from the play next Monday. You’ll want to be here for that, believe me! It’s radder than rad