Recovery

When you pack several dozen young artistic type people in a relatively small space for several weeks at a time, inevitably, every once in a while the stars will aline and give you a night where- to put it mildly- the shit hits the fan. Every dramatic thing that has been simmering away in the summer heat will, all at once (with the help of copious amounts of alcohol), explode to the surface. One of these infamous night's took place on Friday. Friday was the opening night of Richard the Third. A night when somehow I couldn't turn around without seeing some dramatic story unfolding. Many a thing took place, many a tear was shed, and by the end of the night there were 3 drunken and weeping women in my dorm room (I include myself in this), each one more distraught than the last. Quite a sight to behold.

Now you dear readers (assuming I have any besides my mother- which I 'm really not sure I do)may be wondering what exactly went down last night. That I cannot share since it is possible that SOMEBODY I work with might actually read this (doubtful but not impossible) since I do put the links up on my Facebook. Suffice it to say that it was some theatre geek craziness across the board, but nothing to worry about. As far as I know, everyone survived...

And so Saturday was spent in recovery. My personal anger from the previous nights events was not completely abated, and upon waking up after heading to bed around 4am I celebrated surviving the night by hitting my end table, making my computer fall on the concrete floor. Ah the joy continues... so now my lovely laptop is some form of broken and has been sent off to Best Buy for repairs. But I'll probably loose all my info, pictures, and music. I suppose that's what I get for letting my anger bubble to the surface once every six months- apparently this is far too often as far as karma is concerned. So until I get it back there will probably be no more pictures on this thing.

Which is a shame because...what better way to recover from a frivoulsly tragic evening and a morning of breaking one of the most expensive things you own then with pancakes? I took some pictures of said delicious pancakes, but alas am unable to share them. But anyway they were whole-wheat oatmeal blueberry pancakes with crunchy almond butter and banana slices on top- and they were perfect. I made a few changes to the recipe- only used half the oil and used brown sugar instead of white sugar because I like it better. I mostly made them because blueberries were on sale this week and as a thankyou to Momma Bear Michelle for taking care of me in my state the previous evening. She enjoyed them immensely as well I am told. Not to mention that pancakes are the perfect hangover food. (I actually wasn't hung over, but I never need an excuse to eat pancakes)

And now that I am fully recovered I turn my attention to the ridiculous stressfulness that is sure to be STI. I am trying to be as prepared as possible- but this is difficult when one really has no idea what one is supposed to be doing. Most of the participants arrive tomorrow and on Tuesday the maddness truely begins.
On the plus side I am now moved into Greater Grace and have enough kitchen and fridge space to cook whatever I want- just not sure if I'm going to have any time. I guess we'll find out.