The only reason I am writing this post is because I promised the cousin. Also, she shoved me up against a wall and said "BLOG" while I screamed girlishly. I can't help screaming girlishly. I'm a girl.
Tonight, I had the pleasure of attending a performance of "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe." This was only because the cousin was acting in it, and of course I always go to see the things the cousin acts in. She's my cousin. We have a bond sort of like sisters, except we aren't around to get on each other's nerves as much, so it's even better. The other reason I always show up is because she'd probably beat me up otherwise. Don't deny it, cousin.
I read the book a long time ago, like two years or something. Maybe even longer. This is longer than many insects and other small animals have been alive, so it has to be a long time. All I really remembered was that there were four kids who ran around an old house until the idiot one found a wardrobe and went into it. Then they went to Narnia, found the White Witch, found Aslan, et cetera. They probably pointed and shouted, "I found you! Look, look, I found Aslan!" when they did. This is somewhat like me when I find people every day or like in City of Glass when Alec runs over to Magnus and says, "Magnus! I choose you!" like a Pokemon master...Okay, please ignore me now.
If you kept reading past et cetera, I'm sorry. Sometimes I babble about stuff that has no point, and I can pretty much go on forever if no one stops me.. Spiffy assures me that no one actually listens; I'm not sure if I should be relieved or offended.
In the play, there were these lovely little forest sprites or something who ran around doing little dances and twirling ribbons on sticks. It was a lot nicer than I'm describing it. I noticed that the little forest sprites started out with white ribbon-sticks, probably to symbolize the blank emptiness and despair of the White Witch's reign, and ended up with multicolored ribbon-stick to symbolize spring. The changing of the ribbon-sticks pleased me, because I like pointless things like that. Well, things with points. Just very small ones.
The line, "We're in Narnia!" cracked me up for two different reasons at once. Yes, this is like multi-tasking for people who can't multi-task. In Quebec, there was a giant wardrobe in the room, which I will remember fondly as what I hid in with Gabby to jump out at Christine, fit all four of us staying in the room in, and of course climbed into the moment I saw it and cried, "It's Narnia!" The other reason was Spiffy, who tried to convince her sister that the restroom at some restaurant was Narnia, pronounced NAH-nee-uh, without the r sound.
The cousin was, of course, absolutely spiffing as the Witch. Before I spend a while gushing about my wonderful cousin, I'd like to point out that she was one of the oldest people on stage, and therefore had more time to mature. Mature more in the sense of how fruit matures before falling off the branch than how people mature and begin to act more like adults. Anyway, the cousin did an amazing job. Especially with the shrieking and yelling. I'm sorry, cousin, but you're very good at screaming. Don't be offended; it's just the truth.
Adjectives Describing the Cousin's Performance:
- Dazzling
- Sensational
- Fabulous
- Spectacular
- Marvelous
- Impressive
- Astonishing
- X-rated
- Rough
- Horrifying
- Juicy
- Agitating
- Scandalous
There were only three things that bothered me about the play. The cousin was obviously not one of them. One: lots of people missed their cues and then just stood there. Two: the kid who was a forest creature and tripped every time he went onstage was not funny the first time or the fifth time. Three: Aslan.
My shadowy, dim memories of the book involve Aslan being, you know, proud and noble. A fab kind of lion who's a little distant at times because he's just more noble than everyone else, but still kind. The vibe I was getting from the actress (and it's not her fault; I think it was the costume) was more of a tribal princess vibe. I don't know if it was the grass skirt being used as a mane, the Pocahontas kind of dress, or the time she roared and also sort of twisted around and shook her mane. Whatever. I am done ranting about the play. It was all very lovely. I give it many points.
The cousin's posse knows me as the abortion one. I suppose I shouldn't be too annoyed; my posse knows the cousin as the cousin or Libby's cousin with the hair. This is as opposed to my cousin without the hair. Anyway, there is actually a reason they call me that. I will now tell you all. Gather 'round, dear readers: it's time for storytime.
It was once in the land of Slauson, and our heroine, Libby, was in her seventh-hour class. Seventh hour was almost over, and, seventh hour being the last hour of the day, school was almost over. The excitement was heavy in the room...heavy, like a box of elephants wearing some of those sunglasses with the little jewels in the corners. Chica (some of you may know him as Niraj) was bothering Libby.
"I know your future," he said.
"I'm sure you do," she said.
"You're going to go out with a guy in high school, and Jenny won't like him."
"What?"
"None of your friends will like him."
"Why?"
"He's a jerk."
"What? You think I'd date a jerk?"
"I know you'll date a jerk. Anyway, he'll get you pregnant and you'll have an abortion, even if it's not legal. So it'll all be okay."
End of story.
I told that to the cousin, and she told her posse, and they now know me as the abortion one.
After school (but before the cousin and her performance) I was lying on a bench on the deck. Spiffy doesn't like it when I lie on furniture at school; she says Sam and Anthony will attack me; but what she doesn't know won't hurt her. (Spiffy, if you're reading this: hi. I'm sorry. Sam wasn't at school, so it was totally safe.) Pascale came up to me and asked, "Libby, what are you doing?"
"I'm lying on the bench."
Chica came, too. "Libby, what are you doing?"
"I'm lying on the bench."
Claudia, however, began to yell at me about Big Brother before deciding to litter. "Let's litter, Libby!" Ooh, alliteration. She handed me her candy wrapper, and I chucked it over into the grassy place by the deck that's already filled with junk anyway.
"I feel so horrible! I'm a litterer!"
"Big Brother does not like your anti-environment sentiments," said Claudia.
"But I like Big Brother!"
"Anti-environment is anti-Big Brother."
Remember that, infidels.
Hey. Jenny started it. She said bella swan had questionable virtues because she got pregnant, and that you had questinable virtues.
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