sigh

The play is almost over. I've been stressed, going at a fast pace for the past few weeks. Wow say that five times fast.

But I was thinking about it. And this crazy life, I hate it. Yet that's what keeps my passion alive. I have a love-hate relationship with theater. I can't live without it. But one day, the hectic pace is going to give me a stroke.

I'm still getting... "I think we need pyrotechnics here. Can I drop a body from the ceiling?"

And the lines are gradually getting there, which is good.

But yeah. I have to frisk my brother for matches before the show. Otherwise his hands will be on fire when he comes onto the stage in his Satan costume.

California? Did I hear someone say they had a spare ticket to California? Oh ok. You don't need me right? Ok I'm running away now.

Now to figure out how to get the random kids not to walk across the stage:
My Brother Dan: Hey, kids you're getting in the way here, you wanna go out in the hallway to play gi joe?
Obnoxious kid who will remain anonymous: What do you mean by what?
Dan: What?
Kid: What do you mean by what?
Dan: Wait. I didn't say 'what' the first time. How about if you don't leave, I pick you up and throw you?

Gotta love my brother.