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mood |
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music |
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"the seer's tower" - sufjan stevens |
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My feet still hurt from last night.
oh, winter formal. concordia has some sort of gift as far as dances go- the music is mostly awful, attendance is... well, not bad, but not good either, and there's always a few requisite drunks that show up, even if they can barely stand. yet somehow, it is always a great time.
i think it's because we make our own fun.
the highlight of the evening was when gabby told adrian to play "pump it," which allowed those of us in randy's dance class this semester to bust out the sweet routine we choreographed. the six of us who were there managed to pull it off, resulting in a nice circle of people around us- not unlike something you'd see in a movie's high school prom scene. man, we're awesome.
the art was sweet too. it was about clothing as communication. oh man, there was one piece that was all about various forms of plaid clothing, from kilts to aprons to suits. mike- i thought of you.
there was also a film that showed a japanese woman sitting on a stage while members of the audience took turns coming up and cutting off little bits of her clothing until she was wearing almost none. good ol' yoko ono.
at the end of the night a few of us gathered in me and kate's room where pizza was shared and good conversation was had.
today, stage had an actual outing to see some live theatre. oh, how i love it. we saw edgardo mine at the guthrie (based on a true story). oh my gosh, it was amazing. i laughed, i cried. we embarassed paul. there was discussion after the show, and when he came out on stage and introduced himself, the six of us cheered loudly. he went out for thai food with us afterward, so that's cool. i need to be like eric and eat thai all the time because oh man, i forgot how amazing it is.
and now i need to work on my journalism portfolio. i'm making progress, so that's good. it's just hard because i can't seem to spend so much time writing one thing. i lack the ability to maintain focus on that kind of thing, y'know? i guess that's a good reason to not be a journalist. and i don't want to be one, so it works out.
it's almost time to go home. i need to come up with money for london. ugh.
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