you meme

Dec. 28th, 2007 06:55 am
gilana: (Default)
[personal profile] gilana
Gakked from [livejournal.com profile] aphrabehn:

"I know very little about some of the people on my friends list. Some people I know relatively well. I read your journals, or we have something else in common, and we chat occasionally. Some of you I hardly know at all. Perhaps you lurk, for whatever reason. But you friended me, and I thank you for your interest in my words.

But here's a thought: why not take this opportunity to tell me a little something about yourself. Any old thing at all. Just so the next time I see your name I can say: "Ah, there's so and so...they enjoy the savory aroma of monkey brains a la mode."

I'd love it if every single person who friended me would do this. Yes, even you people who I know really well. Then, if you like, post this in your own journal and see what gems of knowledge appear."

Date: 2007-12-28 11:17 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] heinleinfan.livejournal.com
Since you are a theatre person, I'll ramble about my small forays into theatre.

I wanted to be involved in theatre in college, but I have no voice projection abilities at all, and then the whole stage fright thing that even when I can control the nerves and the shaking, I can't control the sweating and the face-turning-red-as-a-beet. So no onstage for me.

So I went back stage.

My most memorable back stage moment was during the first night of a performance and a scene change that required me to run out onto the dark stage, grab the christmas tree that had just been "decorated" by the players, and tote it off stage. I'm tiptoeing off stage, tree in hand when I hear *bonk...bonkbonk...CRASH* and there's a nice little pile of shattered christmas ball on the floor. And in the next scene, one of the characters has to walk around in footy pajamas.

So I scramble back on stage, luckily behind a couch, and start picking up the pieces of christmas tree ornament and manage to cut my finger...when *FLICK* up come the lights. So I'm lying there, behind the couch, holding handfuls of glass slivers and blood, through the whole scene, because I'd be visible if I tried to crawl past the couch...while the footy pajama girl tried to control her giggles and step around me whenever she had to go behind the couch.

...

No more theatre for me, thank you very much.

Date: 2007-12-29 02:06 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rebmommy.livejournal.com
funny story! sorry for laughing at your dilemma as stage crew, but I do find it funny.

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