I should have known my Saturday would be eventful right when I walked into rehearsals in the morning. Like always, Musical theatre people crack me up and Saturday morning was by no means an exception. Right off the bat, Ms. Polaskit is running around like a blond version of the energizer bunny with five ideas of how we will be able to hear the music for the dance. After making a reference to the speaker being a coaster for some coffee, and Grant oh-so-kindly clearing up that it was in fact a speaker not a coaster, we began our dance. The dance is not too challenging and we get to do a lift so all is well in the world of musical.
The real signal my day was destined to be interesting to say the least was Grant farting near my head. Pleasant right? Following that came a most chaotic trip to Mickey D's in which I forgot to wait for Rachel right after telling her she could follow me. Sweet life of Zack and Cody did I feel horrible about that. However, the trip was worth it if only for the opportunity to convince Sydney that at McDonald's you have to stir your drink because sometimes the carbonation and the flavoring do not mix right in their machines; Classic. After all settled down I drove the musical munchkins back to school and embarked on my fifteen minute journey home.
In a frantic hurry, I threw my snuggie, script, sweatpants, cheer jacket and makeup into a backpack, jumped into my uniform, yanked my thespians jacket over my head and lightly jogged to my car. Once I had the car running, I made a smooth escape from my house and went on a fifteen minute adventure with Kid Cudi back to school. Feeling James Bond-like I sped two miles over the school speed limit into the parking lot and swerved my car into a parking space perpendicular to the bus. As I threw my life's worth of bags over my shoulder, I stumbled out of my car and up the bus steps.
If anyone has ever told you it is easy to walk through a bus isle with bags on your shoulders, they were lying to try to make you look like a fool. Any who, with a two hour bus ride to burn I pulled out my script and got to memorizing. Thirty minutes into that everyone started to wake up so I tucked it back into my bag and tested out my Borat voice and my Indian accent. Both of which I succeeded at talking flawlessly in conversation for thirty minutes. Honestly, if someone were to lock me in an empty room I would probably entertain myself by perfecting forgein accents.
And then we got there, in the middle of bunker hill no where pops up a museum-like high school. It looked oddly out of place, yet I was grateful this school would be a pleasant place to spend the next five hours of my life; that was before I walked in and the overwhelming stench of shrimp poppers clung to my nostrils for dear life.
The girls game was rough to say the least, we lost by twenty. Good thing the boys opened a can of whoop-ass on them. For two quarters the boy's held a twenty point lead. Glad we have a ginga ninja, a swede, a beard, sweet cheeks, honey bunches, hardy harr harr, Harry Potter, and JFrosh owning on the court. Pretty much the proudest day I have had being a Gladiator(this is an exaggeration to make a point, otherwise known as a hyperbole).
Bus ride home, this is where things get interesting. Half way through the bus ride Dakoata asks Gretchen, Robert and I if we waft our farts. Unsure if he was serious or not, Gretchen, Rob and I exchanged looks and busted into laughter. Persistent Peggy, Dakoata, was determined to prove a point where he continued to ask three other boy's players if they had wafted their farts when they were younger. Each of whom looked at us three, back at Dakoata, and let out hearty laughs.
For the rest of the bus ride hilarious events kept occurring. Not to mention the creation of about 500 adjective plus girl's name combinations to describe each other. Gretch and I creeped hard on the players and laughed so hard we cryed at almost anything. It is amazing what adrenaline can do for a brain.