Free-Fall.

ZOMG YOU GUYYYYSSSSS!

I am FAAAAALLLING.

So, week one as an "actress" (it gets air quotes until it's real) continues on apace. Just a side note about air quotes? I have had to sit on my hands TWICE this week because I have been compulsively putting everything in air quotes. Like, hey...can you pass the "salad dressing" kind of everything going in air quotes.

I'm unsure when exactly I became so annoying.

That is not like an invitation for all of you assholes to let me know.

So, let's cover my two days worth of classes first shall we?

Day One of school basically consisted of me having about 2 or 3 major nervous breakdowns.

Apparently I forgot one needs textbooks for school. And a backpack. And like paper and pens and shit.

I was also petrified that BoyKing would be all Embarrassed to Know Me...but apparently (and some of you may have known this already) I'm cool as shit.

First things first, my Stagecraft teacher is no doubt younger than I am and has a mohawk. He may also be smoking hot.

At the end of Day One, I'm leaving my acting class, with BoyKing in tow, natch, and like I'm walking toward my car when I turn around to see I have a little gaggle of boys following me.

BoyKing's all Um STEP OFF biatches, this is MY older lady friend. And I'm all "wot's all this then?"

So I'm like "uhhh....did you guys...want a lift or something?"

UnderBoys: SURE!

So, my car is such a crapsplosion that I only have room for 2 of said UnderBoys. So BoyKing, rather than uttering his usual cry of "AUTOMATIC SHOTGUN!!" gets all petulant and is like "no, whatever...I'll walk."

It? Was awesome.

Day Two of class was significantly better...as I had purchased a day planner. For serious, Day planners to me are like crack.

You know. To a crackhead.

Anyhoodle, I am fitting in semi-well with the undergrads. BoyKing even let me wear his baseball jacket when I was cold in class.

No, I'm not joking. Like, I think next week he's giving me his pin.

FINGERS CROSSED YOU GUYS.

I do still have a volume control problem as I called him "such a tool" audibly during our lecture in Stagecraft.

Dr. Hottie McMohawk approved though, so it was cool.

Maybe.

Also? Went and saw"The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus" with YBPM. Extremely difficult for me to see Heath Ledger. I will not lie to you. I had some gasping tears there. However, I thought the movie was beautiful and brilliant...though it lost me a bit at the end. As YPBM so aptly put it "Terry Gilliam gets lost in his own genius."

There are some very winning moments in this film though that are "quaintly Pythonian" (DO YOU SEE ME WITH THE FREAKING AIR QUOTES?!?) including some dancing Bobbies for the win. Oh, and don't forget Johnny Depp.

:::wants to touch:::

OH! And this guy? So very precious. What a joy he was to watch on screen. And HELLO?! Tom Waits as Mr.Nick (aka THE DEVIL)? I mean, such an inspired casting choice, and that ALONE was worth the 10 bobs. See this film less for Heath Ledger's final performance, and more to
be amazed at how Gilliam and Crew managed to make this thing work.

Verne Troyer? Maybe someone should accidentally lock him in a box.

Somewhere.

The freakiest thing though? Some dude in the theatre who literally had the creepiest, eeriest, most diabolical laugh EVAR. I mean, it would go from like this super evil throaty chuckle to like some goofy ass cartoon laugh. At one point YBPM is all "as soon as this is over? We MUST know what he looks like." So as soon as it's light's up? I turn around and CANNOT FIND HIM.

Mmm hmmm.

Possibly? A ghost.

I'm JUST throwing it out there.

Following the movie YBPM and I went to a kind of seedy bar and like there were no tables to sit at. The only available seating was at this breakfast bar type thing facing an army of pool tables. And YBPM is all:

"Can we sit at that bar, or is that too trashy?"

THIS IS WHY HE IS AWESOME.

It WAS in fact completely trashy, but our very presence classed it up big time. Mainly because we dress so well. However I'm fairly sure it was a mistake to lay my jacket down on the bar.

Because now it smells like empty dreams and despair.

Oh, and apparently in the umpteen months we've worked together/known each other, I've somehow managed to keep my actual age from YBPM. So, when we were discussing how it's going to be like OMGSOMUCHEASIER for him to catch the famous than myself, I was all:

Me: Well first of all, I'm older than you.

YBPM: Oh come on, by how much really.

Me: Uh....

YBPM: What are you...26?

Me: Yes?

YBPM: 27?

Me: Also yes?

YBPM: ....28? What?

Me: I'm 29 years old.

At this point 25 and 1/2 year old YBPM makes like the SADDEST FACE EVAR. Like a face that screams "Oh, wow, I am so, so, so sorry that you are swiftly approaching the end of the first third of your life. I officially pity you and agree with you that all your endeavors will be failures, as it is far too late for you. Basically, I should shoot you right now and just put you out of your misery."

I mean, that's how I read the expression anyway.