Living

I Hate the Bus (All I’m Asking for Is Change)

I’m on a bus back from Chicago Unifieds. My legs are asleep, I’ve used over 75% of my family’s data plan, and I’m very tired.

But I had SO MUCH FUN.

Firstly, I loved my interviews and auditions. One school was a little strange (I kid you not, an auditor “read my aura” instead of talking with me about the school or my pieces), but other than that I really enjoyed getting to learn the similarities and differences between all these programs I applied to months ago.

Secondly, I got to see Cabaret with Randy Harrison, Andrea Goss, and Leeds Hill at the PrivateBank Theatre. I cried. It was musical ecstasy. I already knew what was going to happen and when but I was on the edge of my seat. So many tears were shed by myself and Monica.

I saw so many wonderful friends in Chicago and still didn’t manage to see everyone. I got to see Jake Smith and Daniel Neale (who were in Oklahoma! with me at Interlochen in 2013), Nic Mains and Skylar Okerstrom-Lang (who graduated from Interlochen in 2014), and Danny Fender and Kasia Gneiser (who graduated in 2015). I got to see my bestest friend Meredith and we got Daisy and Donald Duck stuffed animals at the Disney Store and swapped. That’s true love right there.

Oh, yeah, I signed a contract today for a summer job. A real, paying, away from home summer job. I’m so excited/nervous. Oh, I also have to figure out WHERE THE HELL I’M GONNA GO FOR COLLEGE(?!?!?!?).

Better to have too many cars in the garage than to have no garage at all? I think that’s what Bill said.

Goodnight cyberspace. It’s naptime for this bus boy.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s