part GIP, part creamy filling
Feb. 26th, 2003 11:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aruanNew default icon for life. Because he is and I am and doesn't everyone wish they were having as much fun?
Survived presenting a two-minute monologue in Acting today. Longest spoken-word piece I've ever done solo. Memorizing lines in a play is one thing, where there are other people, diffused attention, prompting, etc. Musicals are another entity all their own, and the songs provide not only rhythm but attitude and rhyming cues as well. But this truly was nerve-wracking, being up there totally on my own. Managed not to vomit, only asked for one line. Intensely proud of that.
The commercials for the Leann Rimes episode of Driven currently airing on VH1? Where she's singing that adorable song in that horrendous tutu dress and slips on the insidious floor in her tap shoes during the big finish? Positively endearing. I mean, poor Leann, but also, priceless.
Much intrigued by the idea in Lesa Soja's Traveling. Lance does seem to have come to truly embrace the whole pop icon thing for its own merits instead of a springboard to do what he really wants since his not-so-triumphant return from the cold backwoods of Russia.
In other, unsurprising news, my love for the perfection that is the entirety of the entity known as Joshua Scott "JC" Chasez continues to grow unchecked and well beyond the point of reason. Lonely Days belonged entirely to him, and the boy seems to exhibit zero vocal strain even as he's bounding around the stage like a monkey on crack. He's lithe and beautiful and admirably gives his all to every.single performance, wicked talented with a voice that's neither syrupy nor quick, but smooth and clever. Now if only someone would tell him *that* instead of the mudslinging that's been the serious press coverage of his career to this point.
I've been actively wallowing in audio media since the Grammys and now have a new favorite non-album recording of theirs, and it is decidedly their version of the Temptations' Can't Get Next To You. Even if there are girls screaming over a lot of it. Lovelovelove how they switch off all the lines, then join in on the chorus. Lance needs to fucking get some solos on the next album. If they manage to work Joey in there more substantially (which would be ludicrous not to do, considering) and Justin could sing falsetto a little closer to only half the time, that just might happen.
Actively realized that I'm not good with unexpected stimuli. Like, if someone says something to me and I'm not ready for it or asks a question I'm not prepared for, I actually have to ask them to repeat themselves because it simply does not register in my head. Also, my reactions to some situations are entirely involuntary, like a reflex. A flash of insight or shock? My hands slam down on whatever solid surface is in front of me, then fly to my face to cover my mouth after having yelped loud enough to be heard across the room. Surprise? I scream and bring my arms up to shield my head and cower pathetically. I'm sad like a pathetic thing.
Went out with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
walkingshadow to celebrate the end of the week, as we're like to do on Wednesday nights. Excellent food at Chopstix, as always. I am apparently in for a "thrilling" experience in the immediate future. Was pleased. Didn't raise my eyebrow too high when Miranda offered to buy me candy at Publix, but instead lunged for the nummy new Snickers with Almond - don't let it fool you though, it's really a Mars bar with caramel. So, good fun all around.
Came out of Chicago laughing. The kind that you can't help when something is just so perfect it makes you giddy with the joy it inspires. And then! From the desk of the perenially fabulousmimesere, who managed to up the amusement factor at least five-fold by recasting Chicago with our favorite popslash characters! Just imagine: Lance Bass starring as the quick, silver-tongued ringmaster, Billy Flynn! Our intrepid Miss Britney Spears shines as Roxie to our equally illustrious Christina Aguilera as Velma! Justin makes a cameo as the jilted gigolo, Fred Casely, while Nick Carter stands by his wife through it all as Amos Hart! Joey shines in the role of beloved Mama Morton with all the right connections! Chris is the snazzy, classy MC while JC plays the role of the compassionate voice of the Chicago Tribune, Ms. Mary Sunshine! I'm here to champion the call for an immediate remake.
Fact of the Day: Courtesy ofmarythefan, Max Martin, author of such pop genre favorites as Tearin' Up My Heart and It's Gonna Be Me (I would've mentioned I Want You Back, but it's essentially TUMH in the way that Britney's Oops, I Did It Again is all but analogous to her smash debut ...Baby One More Time), apparently sang in a heavy metal band. You only wish I were joking.
Recommendation of the Night: Cross-Pollination by Cinzia. Lord of the Rings RPS fic, but really, it's just a lush, enchanting character study of Sean Bean. And gardening. Trust me on this. Thanks to the resident goddess of impeccable taste, Miranda, for the heads-up.
Laundry sits in a very literal mountain across the room, daunting me. As does Grammar homework. Convention looms with tinging anticipation; the prospect of being at an airport early Friday morning does not. However, the beloved flying in couldn't be more eagerly awaited.
Survived presenting a two-minute monologue in Acting today. Longest spoken-word piece I've ever done solo. Memorizing lines in a play is one thing, where there are other people, diffused attention, prompting, etc. Musicals are another entity all their own, and the songs provide not only rhythm but attitude and rhyming cues as well. But this truly was nerve-wracking, being up there totally on my own. Managed not to vomit, only asked for one line. Intensely proud of that.
The commercials for the Leann Rimes episode of Driven currently airing on VH1? Where she's singing that adorable song in that horrendous tutu dress and slips on the insidious floor in her tap shoes during the big finish? Positively endearing. I mean, poor Leann, but also, priceless.
Much intrigued by the idea in Lesa Soja's Traveling. Lance does seem to have come to truly embrace the whole pop icon thing for its own merits instead of a springboard to do what he really wants since his not-so-triumphant return from the cold backwoods of Russia.
In other, unsurprising news, my love for the perfection that is the entirety of the entity known as Joshua Scott "JC" Chasez continues to grow unchecked and well beyond the point of reason. Lonely Days belonged entirely to him, and the boy seems to exhibit zero vocal strain even as he's bounding around the stage like a monkey on crack. He's lithe and beautiful and admirably gives his all to every.single performance, wicked talented with a voice that's neither syrupy nor quick, but smooth and clever. Now if only someone would tell him *that* instead of the mudslinging that's been the serious press coverage of his career to this point.
I've been actively wallowing in audio media since the Grammys and now have a new favorite non-album recording of theirs, and it is decidedly their version of the Temptations' Can't Get Next To You. Even if there are girls screaming over a lot of it. Lovelovelove how they switch off all the lines, then join in on the chorus. Lance needs to fucking get some solos on the next album. If they manage to work Joey in there more substantially (which would be ludicrous not to do, considering) and Justin could sing falsetto a little closer to only half the time, that just might happen.
Actively realized that I'm not good with unexpected stimuli. Like, if someone says something to me and I'm not ready for it or asks a question I'm not prepared for, I actually have to ask them to repeat themselves because it simply does not register in my head. Also, my reactions to some situations are entirely involuntary, like a reflex. A flash of insight or shock? My hands slam down on whatever solid surface is in front of me, then fly to my face to cover my mouth after having yelped loud enough to be heard across the room. Surprise? I scream and bring my arms up to shield my head and cower pathetically. I'm sad like a pathetic thing.
Went out with
walkingshadow to celebrate the end of the week, as we're like to do on Wednesday nights. Excellent food at Chopstix, as always. I am apparently in for a "thrilling" experience in the immediate future. Was pleased. Didn't raise my eyebrow too high when Miranda offered to buy me candy at Publix, but instead lunged for the nummy new Snickers with Almond - don't let it fool you though, it's really a Mars bar with caramel. So, good fun all around.Came out of Chicago laughing. The kind that you can't help when something is just so perfect it makes you giddy with the joy it inspires. And then! From the desk of the perenially fabulous
mimesere, who managed to up the amusement factor at least five-fold by recasting Chicago with our favorite popslash characters! Just imagine: Lance Bass starring as the quick, silver-tongued ringmaster, Billy Flynn! Our intrepid Miss Britney Spears shines as Roxie to our equally illustrious Christina Aguilera as Velma! Justin makes a cameo as the jilted gigolo, Fred Casely, while Nick Carter stands by his wife through it all as Amos Hart! Joey shines in the role of beloved Mama Morton with all the right connections! Chris is the snazzy, classy MC while JC plays the role of the compassionate voice of the Chicago Tribune, Ms. Mary Sunshine! I'm here to champion the call for an immediate remake.Fact of the Day: Courtesy of
marythefan, Max Martin, author of such pop genre favorites as Tearin' Up My Heart and It's Gonna Be Me (I would've mentioned I Want You Back, but it's essentially TUMH in the way that Britney's Oops, I Did It Again is all but analogous to her smash debut ...Baby One More Time), apparently sang in a heavy metal band. You only wish I were joking.Recommendation of the Night: Cross-Pollination by Cinzia. Lord of the Rings RPS fic, but really, it's just a lush, enchanting character study of Sean Bean. And gardening. Trust me on this. Thanks to the resident goddess of impeccable taste, Miranda, for the heads-up.
Laundry sits in a very literal mountain across the room, daunting me. As does Grammar homework. Convention looms with tinging anticipation; the prospect of being at an airport early Friday morning does not. However, the beloved flying in couldn't be more eagerly awaited.
