What was tomorrow? The senior walk, playing through the hallways, the first football game, posting of the cast list, and a world of other things, endless and irrecoverable. But how was tomorrow? Happy, sickening, nerve-racking, fearful, joyous, angry, envious, relief, regret, and a world of other things. I warn you now this will be a long entry. My mind is on over-ride and since I don't have anyone who can really listen to me and hear me out, it all falls here. Read at your own risk. Events spoken of in no particular order. First on my mind, I'm sorry to say, is theatre. The cast list went up at 3:00, as promised, but at 3:01 a dark shadow suddenly loomed over head and as I stood and stared at the list, my eyes scanning and reading nothing, I went numb. Kristen, of course, got the role of Elizabeth. That was a given. But I didn't see that at first. The first thing that caught my eye was this: "Abigail Williams...Nicole Wayne." She didn't even want the part--the part that I was dying for, that I had worked my ass off to get, she had been cast for and didn't even want it. Oh, but she'll play it. She'll play it because any part is better than no part at all and a lead role is even better. And I? I recieved the biggest insult in my life that I've ever recieved from a director. I was cast as a namelss court room girl, cast to follow Abigal in what she does and stand in a room and look petrified or intrigued at a bird in the rafter. I was cast to stand amidst a small crowd of girls with absolutely no acting experience what-so-ever, the majority of them being underclassmen, and be nothing but a mood character. Meanwhile, I look att he list and see this person as that role and think bitterly to myself, "They're crap. Why did they get cast as that and I'm a no one?" Honestly, I am not being big-headed or arrogant. I know I'm not FABULOUS, but I'm a hell of a lot better than most of those girls who were cast. I was sooo pissed off. Fuming. No, I lied, staring at the list I was still too numb to be mad. So very slowly I stepped away and retreated to a corner, breathing heavily my anger and disappointment, holding highest resentment for the man who decided I wasn't good enough; for the man who thought that I was deserving enough for only a court room girl. Really I wanted to scratch my name off the list. Burn it off. (I didn't). As a first play and new to the theatre, a court room girl is fine. But with the experience I have and growth that I've shown and dedication I've exemplified...what the fuck? I heard through the grapevine that Townsend made a lot of decisions based on potential. Do you know how much I loathe that word? So the play was cast not by strong actors, but by actors who have the POTENTIAL to be strong. And Nikki? He wanted to challenge her. So he cast her as Abigail, a role I honestly cannot see her playing and it will hurt me to watch her do it, as much as I love her, but I feel absolutely cheated and abused. So all afternoon I got to hear “Oh Carrie, you did so awesome, you deserve so much better” “I can’t believe he cast you as that” “I’m so surprised you didn’t make Abigail” Me fucking too. I seriously thought that I HAD the part. I could have sworn to you that it was mine and in my head I could already see the cast list with my name on it. But no. I don’t even think he looked at me during auditions. And if he did, he was wondering who else I could play besides Abigail because he wanted Nikki to be Abigail so damned much so he could CHALLENGE her. I vented to Kristen, and even to Nik, promptly shutting up when Kris entered to give me a sympathy hug. I didn’t really want a hug. I wanted to throw something; big and hard with a loud crashing sound. Ten minutes later I proved my incredulous acting skills by putting on a happy face and skipping into the band room to say congrats to Gabby (A freshmen flute who was cast as Mary Warren) and to be happy and pep for the game. I knew things had been too good for too long. Everyone I begin feeling happy enough to burst, there’s always something that’s got to end it, that’s going to pop my bubble or trip my plat form; always something to rain my goddamn parade. I guess that’s life, but fuck, what’s wrong with me? Honestly? Why, in all these shows, is it never me? So. Will I do it? To be quite honest, I haven’t yet decided. I love the show and have a lot of ideas for it, so I would surely like to assistant direct. But will it be worth it? Will it kill me to be there during rehearsals and deal with the cast? When I told mom she went on to give me the same sort of speech she gave me last year during Midsummer- This happens to you every time, you let your hopes get so high and you’re always let down. Theatre just makes you so unhappy all the time. You’ve been so happy lately. I don’t know why you still do it when it makes you so unhappy. Theatre makes me happy. Cast lists piss me off. Directors can go to hell. I really dread theatre class next week. PS- I had a dream last night that so many actors gave him shit about the cast list, that he was forced to re-do it. Fat chance. Since I’m feeling down and sorry for myself, I’ll move on to last night’s game—the first one of the season. The first half sucked. My hat is an extra large because it’s the only other DM hat there is and it was really windy yesterday so as we were marching down to the stadium, my hat kept falling off. Then I had to go towards the top of the stadium to conduct pep tunes and was miserable because I was pretty much alone up there (low brass isn’t much to talk to). I sat up there, looking at the game from a viewpoint I had never seen before. I looked down and saw Amy with her camera, getting all the flutes together for a picture. I wanted to cry. Had I made a mistake? Why had I desired to be a drum major? Why, with the one thing I tried for and actually made, was I feeling doubt? At half time we went down and did our show, which was interesting. I messed up walking onto the field because Wes got confused about the taps and I didn’t pull out front with Megan and Helen. Then, after the solute and all that (Helen messed up the salute), I went to get on my podium, only to discover that whoever had set it up, set it up in the little ditch thing around the field where the excess water goes so I nearly took a tumble climbing on. So I had to quick move it and jump up. Megan forgot to take her hat off. And we began the show. So many times I had to refocus myself that I don’t even remembering conducting too much. My mind kept wandering and I kept having to force myself back to One, two, three, one two three, one two three, one and two and three and…Anyway, we got through it all; the opener, the pom tune, the fight song, and off the field we went. When we went back into the stands to play more, Megs and I switched places so I was on the bottom, leading the band. It was nerve-racking and I felt embarrassed for not knowing the time changes or even when the song ended. I followed Megan and did a lot of hear-do guessing. But it was fun. It was a neat thing to be on the podium, wave my arms and count off and have the whole band jump in. It’s still very hard, being drum major. Not so much being a drum major, but being the third drum major. Often times Megan will turn to Helen and say something in her ear and I can’t tell you how happy it would make me if for once she turned her head the other direction and said something in my ear. Anyways, after the game a lot of us went to McDonalds, the usual after-game hang-out. Then Helen, Megan, Wes, Andrew, Kris and I went up to my sister’s house because no one would be there so we watched movies and slept over (except for Kris, who had to drive home at 2am with his eyes half-opened. Scary.) I didn’t sleep well and by 8am, we were all up and on our way out. The assembly went well. We finally got to take the senior walk into the stands and win the battle of the class cheers. Oh yeah, and our senior shirts are pretty cool too. I talked to my English teacher, Mrs. Howell, yesterday about my novel, Sin Is A Myth. She said she really enjoyed it; loved my creativity and writing style and is very interested to read more. I told her she was the fist one to have read it how nervous I was to even hand it in. She said she felt honored to have read it and urged me to turn in more. It was a world of relief to me and extremely encouraging. That was about the best news and truly the only good news I received all day. And after all that I don’t know how I feel or where I stand. I know if I start thinking about it too much that I’ll get depressed, so I’m not going to question my emotions. I’ve just got to sit back right now and let things sort out and calm down; keep everything in perspective.