It's a Great Day for Baseball

 

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Saturday, November 15, 2003

 
I must say, it's been quite a week.

One day of school.

Three days of New York.

One day of auditioning.

One day stuck in America's armpit- New Jersey.

Second row tickets to Josh Groban.

I'm going to go eat some apple pie. I'll elaborate on my New York adventures later (I think I said that last time, too).


Tuesday, November 11, 2003

 
I've never truly pulled an all-nighter before. Sure, I've stumbled from dusk 'til dawn whilst stealing a few catnaps on the way, but I've never just stayed up. Until now, of course.

I can't sleep. In five hours, I board a plane. Again. To New York. Again. But this time, with a purpose far more intimidating than "to see leaves! and broadway! and taxis! and ugly people walking the streets with beautiful ones!"

As corny/cliched/MandyMooreHowtoDeal it may sound, my freaking, like, future may hang in the balance, or something. Yeah.

I'm not even packed yet. I haven't even completely polished my monologue things. I haven't even wiped them off with a dirty, greasy rag to prepare them for polishing.

I'm screwed. Wish me luck (or leg breaking, as the case may be).

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Sunday, November 09, 2003

 
Guess who DOESN'T WANT TO GO?

Me.

WHY?

Scared.

But GUESS WHAT ELSE.

Charlie B rocks my world, and it shall continue to do so for at least two more weeks. Baby.

**P.S. I hope that everyone who is gloomy about things feels better. This is directed towards individuals. I hope you get it, individuals. <3 <3 to said individuals.**

***P.P.S. FREAKING AMY IS OLD, LIKE FREAKING 18. HAPPY DAY OF BIRTH, SMITHE!!!! . End. ***

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