Words of Wisdom

"On edge? Mr Bucket...this is opera. Everyone is always on edge. Have you ever heard of a catastrophe curve, Mr. Bucket? ...A catastrophe curve, Mr. Bucket, is what opera runs along. Opera happens because a large number of things amazingly fail to go wrong...."

~ Maskerade by Terry Pratchett

So. True. Going to sleep soon. Spent is an apt colloquialism.

Mood: Meh.
Music: The random vibraphone music from Ugly Betty absurdly on rotation in the cranial corners.

Tomorrow: Brings singing at the Holiday Stroll. Poured all forms of tea-and-water-based liquids through my gullet today to soothe the voice. Perhaps the larynx intuits when it's time to sing "O Holy Night" again. Le sigh. But practiced here and it's much better. C'est bon. (Must start in on the OJ. Huh. It's so odd to be on this side of the whole thingamabobby. I've been watching and sympathizing with the various vocalists of my acquaintance as they hover over every vocal change based on a moment's temperature fluctuation, but I haven't really understood. I'm glad for the opportunity to understand.)

Prayer: Oh, Lord, I don't know why you should love such a foolish daughter as myself. Thank You. Change my heart, amen.

Today: And yesterday and yesterday and yesterday (crept on in this foolish pace?) were full of auditioning and casting Guys and Dolls. Uber-uber-uber-pleased with cast. And proud of all concerned. Casting is always a tough day, however, hallelujah, the actors showed much grace under fire and the read-through went very well. Beginning singing rehearsals Monday. How is it that theatre stamina has not been retained from the last show? Oddness.... Alles gut.

Kudos to: The amazing Julie who is even now at the premiere for the History Channel documentary that she was assistant costumer for this summer! Woot! The hours spent in rain and mud and knee-high galoshes surrounded by Johnny Depp (or Donny Jepp as I nearly wrote) look-alike piratey stunt man folk has not been in vain! Nor has the ability to insta-judge a man's costume size with astounding precision! Meine schweister is the most beautiful, amazing, talented young lady I know and deserves all kudos and credits and lurve! Mmmmmwah - Ich leibe dich, darling!

And all shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well. Amen.

Oh what a dork and theatre junkie am I!

Is it not monstrous that this director here
Can but in a frenzy, in a dream of auditions
Force her soul so to her own conceit
And from Wednesday's debacle her visage waned.
So, mouse in her hand, .avi's in her memory,
Broken into YouTube - all these functions
Suited with forms to her own assurance -
And for nothing, for musicals!

Right right right. A few notes, my dearies, on how musical auditions are different from regular auditions.

Vocal capability and vocal range are crucial determining factors. If a role requires the actor to have a G above high C, the actor cast must be able to hit that note - and hit it well.

Dance capability is beneficial for some roles. If you can walk and chew gum at the same time, that's great. If you can dance and sing at the same time, that's even better.

NO DIVAS!!! I repeat, BOOOOOO TO DIVAS!

Yay to cast members! It's all about energy and really "selling" yourself. You need to come in with the attitude of "Hey! Jazz hands! We're doing a MUSICAL! Whoopeeeeee!" It's silly, it's over the top, it's starry-eyed, and it's the attitude we need for this. Think of being in a perpetual "Fly Me to the Moon" state.

Have fun. Y'all know how to act. Have fun with it.

Stay strong as a family. Be there for one another. Support each other. Encourage others to do better than yourself. It's all about the greater not the individual good.

I'm excited about auditions. (Which, again, are TUESDAY and WEDNESDAY, not Monday.) And in the nonce, here's an interesting tidbit from the past! I give you....

Brigadoon - "Waiting for My Dearie" (2003)



King of Fools - "I Never Could Dance with You" (2005)



Mood: Chilly. I've handwarmers on, but they seem to be doing little. Bah.
Music: Mental "I've never been in love before" from guess what.
Thought: Mass is sooooooooo good.
Thought redux: Silliness abounds when one sleeps in, the family goes out, and - taking advantage of such a situation - one pries one's sleepy eyes open, finds the long mirror, and puts on a one-woman talent show a la Omar in American Dreamz. Oh, muchly fun. And no one to tell me to tone down my belting voice. HA! Yes, yes, I know. I'll sing my solo from the next town over. Le sigh.
And for kicks and giggles: I sought, I found, I posted. Photo montage of the first ever French Butler. No, not the one that had all the lights blown out on the second night of performance. This is the first ever ever ever show I directed. Good golly. But le sigh, I was too stupid to film it. Boo.

OK, I was sceptical

But The Nativity Story actually looks wonderfully good. Who knew?

Cleaning, prepping G&D, taking the Sabbath today. Praise God.

Mood: Oh, Lord, amen.
Music: A modtly cranial confection
Thought: I thought I recognized the Whalerider girl!

Passed it/passed out

So, whilst having a bizarre reaction to tonight's surprise steak (not that it wasn't really steak, but that it was a surprise we had steak), and whilst waiting for forty minutes from now to arrive, I thought I'd betake me to do a leetle bit of blogging in re: the (dundundaaaah) GRE.

Point number 1: When the e-mail, voicemail and confirmation ticket all say 8:30 a.m., this apparently actually translates to Somewhere Around Nineish If The Employees Can Be Bothered On A Saturday. Who knew the test centers were run by pre-Mussolini Italians? *ducks*

Point number 2: When prepping for an exam, it is apparently helpful to sleep little the night before, get up exceedingly early, use the extra hour (from 8 to 9ish) to cram last minute math in, and curse one's short-sightedness in not bringing a waterbottle. This will, apparently, get you higher results than having all the amenities at hand and the time in the world on at-home practice tests. C'est strange, mais c'est vrai. Qui sais?

Point number 3: Sometimes essay questions will simply fall out of the sky and into one's lap. Who says there's no Providence? Huzzah huzzah, the essay question was "does mass appeal equal artistic merit?" YAY! I got to reference Schoenberg to Zola to Tolkien to Mozart. Hip hip hoorah! The very question of my thesis! *skips down the lane, distributing flowers to a baffled row of office drones*

Point number 4: Computer exams, whilst more frustrating because they don't let you go back to a question!?!?!!?!, have the benefit of giving one one's test results for the comprehensive section. To whit, I got a 630 on verbal, which apparently translates to a 94% and a 580 on math, which apparently translates to a 61%. Now, before you think I'm going to go all weepy on a barely passing math grade, let me remind you that just twelve hours previous, I'd been scoring 18% on math in the practice tests! HA! Yes! I'm not going to bother to do the percent increase! That is many many lots more! HAHHAHHA! And I'm not going into engineering so nyah! So all that remains to be seen are my essay scores, which I hope will prove excellent. We'll see.

Point number 5 and final: The only difficulty of cramming eleven years of math into one thirty-six hour period, is that when one returns cross-eyed home from Worcester and promptly falls exhausted to sleep in bed for several hours...one dreams about the square root of 3. Not. Fair. Boooooooooooooooo.

All in all good. Heading out soon. I felt like I've not *really* had a day of rest yet. Nicht so gut. Oh, dear God - amen! And thank you little Pat and Robin and Uncle John, and St. Catherine of Alexandria (feast day today! patroness of philosophers!), and Sts. Thomases (More, Beckett, Acquinas), and all others who interceded for stupid little me today. God's will, not mine. Amen.

Mood: Still reeling from brain pain
Music: The light and fluffy strains of Nicholas Nicholby
Thought: Oh, for the schlafen!

I am quickly falling in love

With the key of F#min. Haunting haunting key. A little difficult to keep the four sharps going, but it's a loverly key. Was doodling about in it last night - all the chord changes and relative majors and sevenths and such - mostly as an alleviation to the studying that is currently exploding my brain. Since it seems at this point that I am doing worse on each practice test I'm taking, I'm taking a short break now rather than drawing a circle on my monitor and repeatedly bashing my brains into it. Oh, silly standardization! Oh, the evils of putting purposely deceptive bits on a test! C'mon! Play fair! It's not so much a measure of how smart or capable one really is, as it is a measure of how tricksy one can be! (Which would explain a lot about our system of education and government.)

Anywho, loverly long lunch with Jills who is, as I type, now with the other Schneider schweister for the evening. Huzzah for unknowing autonomy, boo to lack of Julie in my life. Watched with mutermuter and darlink schwiester Acts III & IV of edited Hamlet last night, which did much to alleviate my sense of panic. (Mother knows her child well and predicted I'd be in a panic. Oh, wunderschoene mutermuter!) First visit to local Olive Garden did much to impress, particularly as I was seranaded by Andrea Bocelli whilst I entered. I'm sure I much confused the staff as I journalled (yay for handy journals!) whilst waiting for Jills to arrive, but the music, the fireplace, pen and paper kept me occupied. Great catching up with Jill. Ich leibe dich, darling - and thank you as always for conversation and perspective and the delight of your company.

Time certainly flies, n'est-ce pas? Still, standing over this particular precipice, the white sleeves billowing to show the wind's own dance, and the persistent question of "Can I fly?" echoing down through the miles of fog below me, I cannot help but tremble a little. And then grow sad, for it sha'n't be long before whatever lies behind the veil below (or is that above or just beyond?) grows pale and mundane itself. I must remember the castle and not the precipice. I hope I do not lose my sense of awe.

It's as though...no, let me begin again. When in my first year at college, I had a crush on the local philosopher (surprise surprise) who went off one long extended lunch (I begin to wonder how much of my thoughts on life come from long extended lunches - rather Adamsesque, non?) about how he didn't wear a wristwatch because he wouldn't be a slave to time. Now, at the time (no pun intended) I was torn between the desire to free myself from the shackles of minutes and seconds in a desire to please his rather revolutionary self, and repugnance at the chaos that would quickly ensue from such an anarchic act. Throw away my watch? But how would I get to class on time? Wake up in time? Know that I ought to be going to sleep even if I wasn't? I think I actually lost my watch soon afterwards in one of those charming coinkydinks that look loverly on paper but are a pain in the neck in life, and did fairly well before finding my watch again.

However, round about the next semester, after I'd gotten over that particular crush (God bless that guy, dunno what happened to him) I drew a picture of Time (a woman with a clock's face for her own) pulling in another woman (presumably me) by shackles attached to the second woman's wrists. To frame them both, I put half a clock showing some hour or minute behind them. It's a good piece. Drawn during the Great Books seminar, as I recall, mostly because I did most of my drawing then, since I felt that I had nothing to contribute to the conversation at that time. (Oh, silly Emily! However, I absorbed a great deal.)

So now, it seems almost as if I'm not shackled to Time, nor is she a dead-faced clock, nor less Lewis' Time-Giant, but rather as though I were sitting on the minute hand, being gently but inexorably guided to my next place of contact. But being on the minute or hour or week or year hand, it's rather unnerving still to come to the top and to look down - ferris-wheel like - below. I don't trust Him enough, and I ought to. But I can feel His hand upon me, guiding me though I cannot see Him.

Nothing is for naught. All times are sacred. All experiences are important. All can be made well. God makes good of everything.

But, oh, I wish I knew.

Mood: F#min
Music: Some random instrumental piece that's forming itself, cosmos-like, in my brain. Currently, I can't hear it, but I can feel it taking shape.
Thought: Isn't the soul a magnificient thing?
Gacked from Julie: So. True.

There was once this guy...

...and he wore red and yellow tights. (I wear not motley in my brain.) Oh, it is going to kill me, or one of us. I mean, of course, studying for the GRE's. (Prayers please for Saturday morning. Murky buckets.)

So I'm taking the practice test on the verbal and looking up the ones that I got wrong and about five of them I go "oh, yes, of course," five more I go "ah, yes, I'll take slower on that part, silly me," and the remaining ten I go "WHAAAAAAT? Who came up with that answer?!?!? Does no one know the original definition of 'mawkish' that they would think such-and-so is the antonym? And why can't you use the world antonym in your directions, you silly people? And why is there no teacher to argue the answer with? Boooooooooooooooooooo."

Grrrrr. They seem to go with lesser of the original definitions, they have odd ideas about what authors intend, and their idea of synonymous meanings is completely inconsistent (since when did folly correspond to sense?). Boooooo. But I'll read up on their silly mindsets and play the game to get the score. Bah.

On to mathematics now. A bit trepidatious, since it's been eleven years since I've taken a math of any sort. Oh, how clever I thought I was when I CLEPed out of all that math and French in college. Le sigh. Here's to hoping - and le sigh I should not be surprised if it did to some decent degree - that those sluggish synapses simply snap back the long-neglected information.

Anywho, finished up to Ophelia's drowning last night. So I am about to download and edit Act V of Hamlet. I'm at 2.30 hours, which means the DVD's will definitely be over two discs. Still need to do some clean up on some of the earlier bits, and hither and yon, but it's coming along nicht so schlect. Huzzah! Right. Back to fractions. (All except Fractions!!!)

Mood: Meh. Disgruntled. One ought to be able to explain why one's choice is far more sensible. Boo.
Music: Typepad at the moment.
Thought: Thought? What thought? (What beauty?)

Finding Fun on YouTube

Despite everything, I'm having a good time finding inspirational pieces for Guys and Dolls prep on YouTube. The ever-growing playlist can be found here.

Oh, la.

Mood: Want to do G&D now!
Music: YouTubing
Thought: Oh, Lord, in Your hands!
Edited to add: That I've finished up through Ophelia's first mad scene. Screen caps below. Laertes soon to enter. Woot.

One of the more...

...interesting days had in a while. Won't go into detail. Suffice to say things that were supposed to happen, didn't happen, things that shouldn't have happened, threatened to happen, and it all ended up with spaghetti dinner and the Producers going out to see Stranger Than Fiction (excellent).

No time for post-play. I have one week exactly to prep for Guys and Dolls. Huzzah huzzah. No - alles gut. Ja. Anon, I give you the Seven Ages cast photo!



Mood: Gruntled
Music: "Hello" by Evanescence. I'm on that bit of editing Hamlet.
Thought: Profunditiy is always preferable to shallow fleeting entertainment. QED.

Surrealism

Simon and Garfunkle ravish the soul with poetry and orchestration.

"Kathy, I'm lost," I said,
Though I knew she was sleeping.
"I'm empty and aching
And I don't know why."
Counting the cars on the New Jersey Turnpike
They've all come to look for America

Time it was and what
A time it was
It was
A time of innocence
A time of confidences
Long ago
It must be
I have a photograph
Preserve your memories
They're all that's left you.

"Not a duck left" - good line. Good performances, nice set, good set changes, well-delivered with good voice and good discretion. Still doesn't change the surrealness of it - which is itself surreal since I thought it not a primary experience. Apparently it is/was. C'est ca.

Oh, Lord for alliance. Prayers for certain and for joy.

Frederico the Red Dragon and Jules are wonderful beyond compare.

Mums and Dads wunderschoene. Whole family, too. My thanks my thanks my love.

Great shows this weekend. Super fun cast party. Soooooooo very good. Lord, allow me the ability to really look at one another. Deo Gratias (sp?) for this whole wonderful community. Lord, for cherishing, amen.

Watching Double Soliloquy. Darn. Good.

Oh, Lord, for all the things happening tomorrow! Halp halp halp! Lord, You order all things. Order this as well. Amen.

I am reminded of Tom. God bless you, Tom, and for your calm faith in His good works.

Mood: Late August
Music: Mental "Old Friends" a la S&G. Ought to be....
Lyrics desired: I'm dappled and drowsy and ready for sleep/Let the morning tide shed all its graces on me!/Life, I love you/All is groovy!

Alleluia! Miracles do happen!

The wigs came in. The wigs came in!!! Alleluia alleluia alleluia! Praise God praise God praise God! He is gooooooooooooooood - alleluia! And happy birthday, Mumsy! Alleluia for you!

Right. Sleep would be loverly but currently an impossibility. Getting together what I can. Got the stuff from the attic, no problem - all hail Joe's organizational skills and the Mrs. Producers who label so very, very well!

Mood: Frantic. It's dress/tech, whaddaya expect?
Music: KoF. Burning CD's.
Prayer: Break legs! Merde! Toi toi toi (or however one spells it)!

Gaudete

I bought the CD with this song on it back in 2002, because it was playing in Barnes and Noble and I thought to myself, "Myself, I must have this" and so I did. Glorious glorious music sung by glorious glorious voices.



God bless and broken legs to all going up this weekend - Jills, Ryan, and of course my darling HCHers. Sleeeeeeeeeeep rock thy brains! And never come mischance between us twain. (Sleep give thee all his rest. With half that wish the wisher's eyes be blest.) Yay Bardolitry! Sigh - R&J maintenaint, s'il te plait! Boo for waiting. ("I hate waiting." Must rewatch Princess Bride, I mean theriouthly.)

Mood: Mrwrm. Mario didn't win Dancing with the Stars - BUT Peter did Peter Ballet to make up for it, so all is well.
Music: Mental "Gaudete"
Thought: Must needs get odds and ends out of way ASAP. Ah for the last minute unseen crises of Tech Week. (Strangeness, sadness, heartfelt pain....)

Um, yeah

So Julie rocks my socks. Going dark perforce tonight. Sleepage must verily yea. But not yet. And miles to go before I sleep and miles to go before I sleep....

Mood: exhausted - literally, spent
Music: Mental "Bittersweet Symphony" orchestration the Hamlet montage which, yes Cass (if you can find this page!), can still be found at youtube.com/gaudete.
And now: I must be off. Want to either do a rewrite on KoF or else work on something else. Margh. C'est ca. Alles gut. Really. *tired smile* (So tired, I first wrote tried.)

This is why Moms are amazing

She gave me this. I had forgotten. He's in charge, as Tom reminds me daily. Thank God for God.

Cardinal Newman Meditation

God has created me to do Him some definite service.
He has commited some work to me
Which He has not committed to another.
I have my mission -
I may never know it in this life,
But I shall be told it in the next.

I am a link in a chain,
A bond of connection between persons.
He has not created me for naught.

I shall do good.
I shall do Hs work.
I shall be an angel of peace,
A preacher of truth in my own place
While not intending it -
If I do but keep His Commandments.

Whatever, wherever I am
I can never be thrown away.
If I am sick, my sickness may serve Him;
In perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him;
If I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve Him.
He does nothing in vain.
He knows what He is about.

He may take away my friends,
He may throw me among strangers,
He may make me feel desolate,
Make my spirits sink,
Hide my future from me -

Still He knows what He is about.
Therefore I will trust Him.

~ John Henry Cardinal Newman 1801-1890

Mood: Pensive
Music: "Keep Myself Awake" from top 25 played
Thought: There art thou happy.

Boooooo (or not)

Boo to Jules who won't let me comment on her LJ site, in order to say:

Yay to Jules' new layout. Velly velly nice.

Boo to feeling oddish and out of sortsish when...

...YAY, everything's going so very well (please God!) for Seven Ages.

And yay to singing unexpectedly at mass with John and Allie. Goodliness.

Yay as well, I finished IV.1. of Hamlet and am about to start "I Walk Alone." Yaaaaaaaaaaay. Edit: I'm actually in the middle of that scene! Huzzah huzzah! Picture below.

A BIG old boooooooooooooooooo to Hamlet Quarto. Not only is there a *reason* it's called the "Bad Quarto" (it doesn't even sound like Shakespeare on a bad day!), but the costumes were atrocious (think Brigadoon era in terms of thrown-togetherness but think certain other shows for the not-fittiness), the acting was well-dictioned but totally charicatures...and the director directed (yay? which was the first I'd seen definitively in a while?) BUT booooooooooo it was all OBSCENE.

And obscene for no reason. Hands down the most disgusting Nunnery scene to date. He basically raped her on stage. I'm sorry - but I'm supposed to want Hamlet to live after that? Riiiiiiiiight. And what they did with the "will you play upon this pipe" - unspeakable. Just...dumb. Mousetrap awful - most of the time Claudius and Gertrude weren't even watching or reacting to their own lives being unfolded before them, and they certainly weren't watching Hamlet who was basically raping Ophelia again (death death DEATH to the misogynistic representation of Hamlet! DEEEEEEEEATH!). Oh, and after all this we're supposed to buy Hamlet declaring "I loved Ophelia?" Sorry. Even the actors didn't buy it. Hamlet jumped in the grave like a silly thing, as though he were testing out holes in the ground for comfort, stood calmly next to Laertes and said, "I loved Ophelia. Twenty thousand brothers could not make up my sum," etc. etc. as though he were having a pleasant but meaningless conversation with Laertes, literally over Ophelia's dead body. Don't get me started on the StrongMad "NO BREAD" Neanderthal Overacting Laertes who made me giggle at the grave scene and nearly made me wonder if he'd somehow contrived to kill his sister. But anyway....

However, they did have a beautiful set, their diction was amazing, and the director did something - he just didn't do anything right. For example, Hamlet's Dad was a woman. I mean just simple "arugh?" Pardon me, but how did Hamlet come about, then? But then again there was so much androgony on the stage that I could never be sure when Polonius held Reynaldo's breast whether Reynaldo was supposed to be the female she was or the male she was written or what or whether it mattered or perhaps whether the director had ever had SexEd 101: How to tell men apart from women. (The answer? Sweaters! ;P)

Anywho...it was really good to see, though, because it helped solidify a couple things in my brain. A bit. Oh, Jules. Much love to Jules and the Red Dragon.

And finally "yay" to Jills (break legs but not costumes!) and to YouTube and to HCHers for this latest piece of YouTubiness.



Mood: At sixes and sevens
Music: Odd mental jumble
Thought: Trying. Really really trying. Huh. There's a double meaning in that! Oh, for unmitigated joy!
And for more kicks and giggles: hamlet and Salome montages

Dark Night of the Stage

Rehearsals have gone wonderfully well (knock on wood) for Seven Ages. Rarely had a smoother Purgatory week, except maybe for Christmas Carol. Alleluia! Hence, we are going dark tonight (no rehearsal) - woot!

So, I'm emailing something to my home address earlier, right, and signing it "from Emily of just before 1 p.m." and it struck me how amusing it is that I'm basically time travelling sci-fi like...and aware of it. It's neat. We always wish that our earlier selves could have done something to ease a dilemma of our later selves, but in fact if our earlier selves simply DO it, then in fact we have done already what we will hope we did later.

I love time. Time nerd front and center here!

Which would explain why I've been favoriting Monty Python and "White and Nerdy." Happiness, Miss Piggy.

Going through attic tonight. Editing possibly, too. New Sorcery and Cecelia book is not as delightful as the first one although not (yet) as torturous as the second one but alas not "light, bright, and sparkling" at all. Mrprmph. Don't authors realize their duty to light bright and sparkling-deprived people? Honestly. I mean, who fails to throw the cupcake?

Mood: Mieux.
Music: Loudness, chatter, mental "Daddy Wasn't There"
Goodness is: Daddy's homemade Concord Grape Jam, because MY Daddy is here. Yay Daddiness!

Loads o' video

Huzzah huzzah for YouTube! More videos uploaded to Gaudete's YouTube page.

King of Fools (2005) "Darling Spanish Rose"

Kiss Me, Kate (2004) "Taming of the Shrew"

Pirates of Penzance (2004) "Poor Wandering One"

Addendum Bearskin (2003) "Opening Sequence"

A Christmas Carol (2004) "Belle and Scrooge"

And continuing the Christmas theme, "Once Long Ago" from Nutcracker ~ The Story in Dance



Mood: Ahrm. I've a bad and unexpected case of the sniffles.
Music: The Open Door by Evanescence
Observation du jour: Kate and Leopold is not as bad as I thought. But then again, who can say no to Hugh Jackman in a greatcoat singing "I am the very model of a modern major general?" (Even if the chronology is ALL off!)
Silly Addendum:

Your Famous Last Words Will Be:

"So, you're a cannibal."

What Will Your Famous Last Words Be?

Tonight: Prayed a full rosary for special intentions. Goodness. Amen.

Is there a Jon Luck Pickard here?

Boo-yeah. Silliness abounds. As do grading for Weds. deadline. Oh, the joy and rapture. Abducting and weekends are good. But not folks who abscond with weekends. Oy.

Mood: Oddish
Music: Evenish (no, OK, residual "Lithium")
Thought: There need to be more Mairelon the Magician books. I mean, honestly.

Your results: You are Jean-Luc Picard

A lover of Shakespeare and other fine literature. You have a decisive mind and a firm hand in dealing with others.

Jean-Luc Picard - 65%
James T. Kirk (Captain) - 60%
Uhura - 60%
Geordi LaForge - 60%
Deanna Tro - 60%
Chekov - 55%
Beverly Crusher - 55%
Will Riker - 50%
Mr. Scott - 45%
Spock - 44%
Worf - 40%
An Expendable Character (Redshirt) - 40%
Data - 37%
Leonard McCoy (Bones) - 35%
Mr. Sulu - 35%

Click here to take the Star Trek Personality Quiz

Coming together

Good golly. Coming together. Goodness. Lost good then "BOOOOO!" as some would say. Aunt Flo is amazing: "Is Lost done? Everyone's talking again. Was it good or are you frustrated? No one seems to finish watching an episode happy." Oh, babycakes, as she says.

Anywho, silly survey below, and Sorcery and Cecelia is still amazing.

Mood: Curiousmrwrmph
Music: Brain version of "God Alone"
Promised Quiz: Boo-yeah!

What American accent do you have? Your Result: The Midland "You have a Midland accent" is just another way of saying "you don't have an accent." You probably are from the Midland (Pennsylvania, southern Ohio, southern Indiana, southern Illinois, and Missouri) but then for all we know you could be from Florida or Charleston or one of those big southern cities like Atlanta or Dallas. You have a good voice for TV and radio.
The West
Boston
North Central
The Inland North
The South
Philadelphia
The Northeast
What American accent do you have? Take More Quizzes