On Killing My Giddy Laughter

Dear A.C. Moore...no, I mean--Entertainment...

Dear A.C. Entertainment...

Hm.

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Entertainment...

Dear Sir and/or Madame of the Entertainment group known as A.C...

Hey! Yo Entertainment brotha's!

Hm.

Update on wig-making:

The foam and fabric outlet is, indeed, the place to go to make your very own Hedwig obsessive fanatical wig, which you well eventually get autographed in obsessive fanatical fashion. Here's what you do:

You traverse the craft stores in K-town until you decide to go to the foam and fabric outlet because if you just go straight to the store you need you won't have wasted enough time at the other places, nor gotten to buy that fabulous shiny silver shirt that you'll wear to the play. Soon after you find that perfect 16 by 16, 1.5 inch thick foam scrap piece you're going to want to make a wiggy sort of squiggly outline. Cut a lot of foam off of the squiggly outline. What foam on the floor? You're being creative, screw the foam. Soon after that denial you're going to clean up the foam.

Acrylic paint on foam. Spray paint will eat foam, any foam. You'll be left with a melted flat wig if you use spray paint. Though--that might be interesting too.

Buy plastic head bands. Don't use them. For Cod's sakes, you hardly have time to wait for the paint to dry, let alone glue on the head bands. Besides, you're quirky, your wig falling off will work for you.

Go to the play. Pretend you're going to wear the obese wig throughout the whole play until someone tap taps your mom on the shoulder and asks...you're not gonna--Oh no! We're not! *cheese*

On how to get a smooch from the fabulous lead actor:

step one:
look at him goofily because you're too damn excited to smile evenly with your mouth
step two:
write a nonsensical blog. pretend your an intellectual introspective person on it. being an intellectual introspective person is not required.
step three:
make obnoxious foam wig. the power of the wig shall not be ignored.

On how not to recieve a smooch from the fabuluos lead actor:

step one:
He's not just going to hug you.
step two:
Yes, those are his lips on your...lipcheek? Yeah, you turned cause you thought he was going to just hug you.
step three:
Lose your glasses on your chin. No, really. It's hot.

Dear Big A.C.!

Dear Ack!

Dear...dear.

L.E. Smith and I made wigs and went to the last Hedwig show where I was smooched in an askewed, awkward fashion (I'm really no good at kissing the boys) by a shirtless man.

Afterwards, high from the experience, I would giggle with girlish glee at memories of the interactions with the cast from the show. It was much like having tourettes syndrome of the girlish glee gland. I think the most surprising thing was that Mr. Joe B. knew who I was. I played it cool though...

Um. Sorta.

Dear A.C. Entertainment,

I'll...get back to you when I'm not exhausted...

I'm going to contact Miss Amy Hubbard. I really want to get involved with the Black Box actors co-op. I would love to be a part of the writing.

Oh, my shoes are fabulous. I think that needs reiterating.

The smell of tomatoes has a whole new meaning for me.

Dear ACE! Ventura? Pet...detective...

I'm disjointed.

Alright, you. Go to sleep.

Alright.

I'll see you in the morning.

Goodnight. Good dormancy everyone.


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