Of Bumbles and Best Friends

So. For the past two days, the Abominable Snow Monster (fondly referred to henceforth as the Bumble, a la Rankin Bass) has been turning my Typical-East-Coast-Large-Public-University into a winter wonderland:

...or rather, a winter slushland. It's so strange to see brilliantly colored autumn trees covered in white, and patches of green grass that those colored autumn trees protected from the Bumble.

Now it's just doing a misty rain thing. Gross.

The good news: I don't have to trudge out to the Homecoming game in this icky wetness (no tickets, and there's no bitterness there at all--I didn't really want them. Shhhh.)

The bad news: My best friend in the whole wide world, who goes by the name of Kirsten, just texted to tell me her planned visit today is not happening. Suddenly my day is reduced to online shopping for Underarmour and catch-up reading.

I can postpone that, though! I'll take a trip down memory lane to tell you about how I met Kirsten (unless you are Kirsten, in which case, you already know). It's kind of an interesting story.

Kirsten and I aren't the typical best friends that met in kindergarten, shared our lunches in elementary school, fingerpainted each others' names in art class, dressed up in sparkle jeans and went to awkward middle school dances together...none of that.

 In fact, the first time she recalls seeing me, we were both at a meeting for middle school choir, and she was annoyed that I was a dumb seventh grader talking during the presentation. Thank goodness we didn't actually meet for two more years.

I entered high school as a quiet (imagine that) freshman knowing almost no one (I'd had the typical eighth-grade-falling-out-with-friends that summer). BUT I was in choir. (Yes, I was THAT kid. Refrain from being judgmental. I actually kind of liked it.) And in choir, we used to have students get up to do warm-ups and announcements and that sort of thing.

One day in September-ish, a tall girl with long, curly brown hair, a cute skirt, and a mellifluous voice taught everyone a tongue twister:

Articulatory agility
Is a desirable ability
Manipulating with dexterity
The tongue, the teeth, and the lips!
(repeat, many times, going faster each time)

(My memory's actually not that amazing; I've recited it many times since for theatre.)

Kirsten and I didn't actually meet then, oh no. That's just when I became aware of her. She's pretty awesome, I thought, to be able to get up there and teach everyone that so easily. (She later revealed she felt like the biggest dork.)

From there, our friendship came together in pieces. I actually don't remember this, but she recalls trying on Halloween costumes at the same time after school in the girls' bathroom and realizing that we liked a lot of the same things. "We're pretty much the same person!" she cried. I vaguely remember being excited about this.

Our friendship was cemented, though, when Kirsten and I, and a few of our friends, stayed after school to chill and wait for the football game that night. (All right, fine, I'll admit it: we were decorating the choir room. Remember, NERDS.) I hadn't been planning to stay, but Kirsten had convinced me, last minute. "You don't really want me along," I'd said, and she and another friend had replied, "Yes, we do." That was all it took.

Anyway! That night we bonded, I found out she was a vegetarian, and we decided that we had to watch Titanic together (neither one of us ever had seen it). A weekend or two later, she came over to spend the night. At 4 AM, we were still up...playing Barbies. Yep, we'd found a tub of my sister's Barbies and were using them to mock everyone at school. That began the first of our countless inside jokes.

The next weekend, I spent the night at her house, and we finally saw Titanic. She might think differently, but I think we were pretty much cemented from then on. Four years later--that's hard to believe--we know pretty much everything about each other, and we never get tired of talking. In fact, we spent most of the past summer together. And we have oh-so-many inside jokes, I don't think I remember them all.

In short, if she was a man, I'd marry her. We're best-friend-soulmates (and I don't even believe in soulmates). And even the Bumble can't stop us.

Oh, and Kirsten, if you're reading this..."I got you coffee." "Yeah, well I got you a pony!"

Snow-Crossed Lovers

Often this fall, as I leave breakfast or walk to my classes, I see this:

(an artistic rendering, of course) and thank my lucky stars that I get to go to a school that's so gorgeous in autumn.

However, smack in the middle of October and two weeks before Halloween, THIS IS UNCALLED FOR, STATE COLLEGE:

That's right. Snow. And I'm not talking a few flurries either--that's a picture from when I went to dinner, and it's kept going since then. And they say it'll keep on till Saturday. It's supposed to stick around until next week, when the temperature will suddenly shoot up into the 60s.

Sheesh.

When I was little, I said snow was God's dandruff (which, in retrospect, is pretty gross). If that so happens to be true, USE HEAD AND SHOULDERS, GOD.

Of course, while I existed in various degrees of dampness and gloom today (the whole "Snow! It's so pretty!" thought process lasted for about five minutes, after which I had to walk several miles downtown to get dresses hemmed. Not a great idea. I actually took the bus there, which I warned you before is an ordeal in itself. For some reason, I decided to walk back, which was an even worse idea.), I couldn't help but congratulate myself for going to see the School of Theatre's production of Romeo and Juliet last night.

I didn't take that, by the way, although I wish I'd brought my camera, but that is a real picture from the event. You can find the whole write-up here.

But really, it was an excellent version of the classic love story, even though I could barely stand to walk away at the end. For the first time, even having performed in it, I felt emotionally connected to the tale of the star-crossed lovers. Of course, it was all senior theatre majors and MFA candidates, so they've been pretty rigorously trained.

Still, though--still. At the end, I felt something tugging at my cynical heartstrings. Also, I think there's something in the original play where the Capulet and Montague families reconcile at the end. They didn't have that here--which leaves the ending uncertain if Romeo and Juliet's death taught them anything. I really liked that aspect.

The reason I could barely stand, in case you haven't read the write-up, is because it was outside--like a Shakespeare in the Park event, except it was at the Alumni Center. They built a stage and a trellis in front of the Alumni House, and for the balcony scene, Juliet sits on a window sill from inside and Romeo climbs up the trellis to talk to her. For another scene in Juliet's bedroom, her bed was center stage and Romeo climbs "in" from the house. Excellent scenic design.

And, of course, there was the surreal experience of watching a show where you could recite every line of a particular character and knew exactly what he would say next. This, of course, was Mercutio, whom  I portrayed in my high school's production last year. (That's a completely different story.)

I actually completely forgot where he came in, until everyone was dancing to the Capulet party (and this was where I wished I had my camera: there was a contagious Mardi Gras feel, with a giant jester's head on a pole, and people dancing a la Sandstorm and singing).

What was it like? Well, first of all, this 'Cush (as people fondly called me) had an awesome top hat. I was jealous. Apart from the hat, it was intriguing to see how the actor--who is an MFA candidate and a TA in my theatre class--took the same part that I had and created a whole new character.

 From Theatre 100, I knew the guy could be funny, and he was. He interpreted some lines differently than I did (he even caught an innuendo that I hadn't and played it up), but I was surprised by how much we did the same. We both had some of the same sarcastic moments, teased Romeo in the same way... it was surreal.

I expected, after seeing it, to worship his portrayal and think about how I could have done this and that...but strangely, I didn't. I think we both played the character well to fit in with our directors' interpretations of the show. For instance, some of the choices he made--like being extremely hungover and hiding from the SWAT team after the Capulets' party--would not have gone over in our version, which was post-Civil War Texas, North vs. South.

Is that conceited, to like his and my interpretations equally well? I was more of a hothead. He was more of a clown. I feel like you could take the character either way. In any case, I'd be fascinated to discuss it with him--and since he's my TA, maybe I'll get a chance to.

I'm quite willing to discuss this more (Lord Capulet, for example, was brilliant), but I won't go on and on--if you want to hear more about it, comment/message me. Trust me in knowing it was well worth losing the feeling in my legs for.

However, their performance tonight was cancelled, due to the snow. What is it with snow wreaking havoc on Romeo and Juliet? Last year, our opening night almost got cancelled and we were missing some actors due to an unexpected snowstorm.

The lesson here: if you want to put on R&J, do it in the summer. In Miami. Or, if you just want to see Penn State's version, go here. You'll have to install Silverlight, but it's not that big of a deal, and it'll be well worth it.

Rumor was they were putting it on at the Playhouse Theatre tonight (a good thing, since Juliet wears a slip for most of the show), and although I'd have loved to see it again, I'll settle for the webcast. A day and night in the slushy snow does not a happy Laura make.