In case you are blissfully unaware of my life situation, I've been playing the role of Mr. Salt in NYT's performances of Willy Wonka. And it's been an absolute blast. I can't even tell you. To properly understand the glory of NYT, you must be in one of their shows. It's absolutely wonderful.
You may also notice that I'm posting this at 2:11 am on the morning of November 21st. (The blog might be stupid and say it's 1:11 am-- it thinks I live in California). This is because I've been up till 2am these past two evenings, decorating bananas.
Yes. Decorating bananas. Dear reader, you heard (or read) me correctly.
(Disclaimer: Since I'm typing this so late at night, I cannot be held responsible for anything in the content of this blog. Then again, I'm conscientious enough to include this disclaimer, so perhaps this disclaimer should be disclaimed.)
So me and three other great NYT friends (Dave Moyer, Ali "Baba" Bongiardina, and Christa Valdez) decided to participate in the traditional "Dress-A-Banana" contest that each show offers. The winner gets the products of the fine jar (probably around $3.) The only other show I've done at NYT is Aida, and I was too afraid to dress a banana back then. But we went all out, incorporating a total of six bananas into a diorama of our stage, along with bananas representing Charlie, Willy, Grandpa Joe, Mr. Salt, Mrs. Teevee, a stage techie (representing Ali), and an oompah-loompah (dedicate to Danielle Jackson.)
All this time, I've been thinking something along the lines of "Most teens who stay out this late on weekends are drinking or partying or having intimacy with every thing that moves." But no, we decorate bananas. And if we don't win this friggin' contest, I intend to sue God, because it would be obvious that He did something wrong in the creation of this world. ¿Sabes?
And with that, my dear faithful readers (all four of you... ;D), I bid you all a pleasant evening.
