dressing room scenes from the givenchy box.

unfortunate excerpts from my diaries
aka true tales from the now & the past.

typical behaviour tonight on my part. i sat on the floor in the dressing room, painting my face white, while music from some live band leaked through the slightly cracked door. there was an off chance i'd have to remove my mask while being judged, so that meant my make up still had to be flawless.
i was hiding, of course. hiding in the dressing room while the show was going on, hiding behind makeup. hiding behind a mask. and if things went my way, i'd have been hiding behind strobes and fog as well.
the other dancers rushed in and out, curling their hair and tying the ribbons of their pointe shoes, and i just watched them bemusedly from where i was crouched on the dirty floor.
typical behaviour.

-april 17, 2009

"but it doesn't matter, you're beautiful," is all jeff said in reply. i wanted to trust him so badly.
"yeah, but she's more talented," i said.
"well that's where you spike her drink, and then they all turn to you and say "oh my god! it's the goddess of music and renaissance!"'
"thanks jeff," i murmured. "you want to help with the drink-spiking? i say we slip shit in her vodka at the cast party tomorrow."
"thy will be done, goddess of music."
jeff was so fucking attractive. why did he have to be so much older? he was only seventeen. and why couldn't i trust him?

-december 26, 2006

i'll talk more about tonight's performance tomorrow. including as a special treat "why i fucking hate everyone who goes to our fucking school". my performance went well, don't get me wrong. but that doesn't mean i'm filled with love and kind feelings towards the other denizens of our daily prison.