We're off book tomorrow, meaning we have to perform without our scripts. I'm nervous. I've never had to learn this many lines in such a short period of time. We'll see how it goes.

The handle on my car door keeps coming off. My car is really a piece, but it's MY piece. It's 10 years old and I love every broken bit and bob on it. It was my very first car, and it's gone through so much with me. Giving it up is going to be a heartbreak and a half. Not that I have any intention of giving it up at this moment, but every time something breaks on it, it reminds me that eventually, we won't be partners anymore.
No one ever believes me when I tell them that my door handle comes off. After rehearsal the other night, it did just that, and of course I loudly proclaimed the occurance to the rest of the parking lot. Justin didn't believe me until I handed the handle to him. Then it turned into a mission to put it back on. We looked so suspicious during all this. It's 10:30 at night, the parking lot is nearly deserted, the school rent a cops had their eyes on us like hawks. It was really funny at the time. Justin had the hardest time allowing me to try and put it back on myself, even though I've done it many a time before. Instead, I was told to move and "hold this", this being his cigarette.Oh boys, you are so silly sometimes. Finally, I gave him back his cancer stick and took charge again. I told him we probably looked really suspicious fiddling with a car door, so I started to hum the Mission Impossible theme just to spice things up. As soon as I started humming, the handle popped right back on and has stayed on since...

My car apparently likes Mission Impossible.....man I love my car.

I've had The Nightmare Before Christmas playing all weekend. I love Jack so much. He's such an awesome, quirky guy. It always makes me sad when he gets shot out of the sky and he says "Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night." I really would hug him there if I could.

I just finished reading The Stranger in My Arms by Lisa Kleypas. I love her books. This one though...I'm not sure how I feel about it. I wasn't able to put it down, mainly because I had to have my curiousity satisfied. I had to see how this played out. And I loved the main characters. I just don't know if I liked the story. Isn't that weird? I liked parts of it, but bits of it bugged me. Hrm.

Speaking of books, the romance novel market has been FLOODED by paranormal stories. Which...I guess is ok...but it's REALLY making me miss good old fashioned historical romances. A lot. A lot a lot. I've been desperate to read a good one, a new good one, and all I find is vampies everywhere. Don't get me wrong, I love a good vampire story as much as the next girl but...I don't know, I liked them better when they were harder to find. Now every Jane, Anne and Lucy has one out on the shelves, and they have sort of lost their appeal. I have this thing about avoiding major fads. I avoided owning and MP3 player for EVER till my dad finally bought me one. Even still, it's not an ipod. Meh.

Continiuing with books, my mom told me that God has told her I'm going to write books for a living. Childrens books even. She has been harping on forever about how I should write books, but this adds a new twist to it. I'm not the most religious person in th world, but like all Catholics, I have a healthy fear respect for God. My mom though, she's really big into all that talking to God stuff. Always has been. It's a huge part of her life. Heck, God even told her what to name me. Isn't that weird? I was originally going to be either Paige or Natalie. My name wasn't even an option on their list at the time. The she told me she was told in a dream that I needed to be named Courtney and it's gone from there. This holds a lot of signifigance for me in that regard, because this stuff REALLY works for her. I'm not making much sense. I know I'm not. But it really sort of freaked me out when she said that. I've always toyed with the idea of trying to write. I'm not that great at it, if you ask me, but it's always been something I've wanted to try and see if I could improve upon. I've NEVER mentioned that to my parents. But everywhere I go, I'm told I should write. My parents, my therapist, my teachers...I don't know. Part of me wants to just brush it off and completely forget about EVER writing because of all the pressure. Part of me is really excited and wants to take off and run with it though. It's all very confusing.

I just got teary listening to the transformation song from Beauty and the Beast. I don't know what's wrong with me lately, I just feel off. Not that it's unusual for me to get teary at BatB, as it is my favorite, but still. I just feel...out of sorts. Oh BatB...my love for you knows absolutely no bounds. If I could bottle the way that movie makes me feel, and give myself a little dose of that everyday without overwhelming myself, I so would.

I auditioned for Steel Magnolias last night, but really extremely doubt I'll get it. And that's fine. I wasn't all that keen on it anyways. But something weird happened last night, and it's got me sort of worried. I smelled my grandmother.

I know that sounds really really strange, but it's true. And it's not like it's a scent that's very common, at least, not in my life. It's a combination of cigarettes and Halls cough drops. And I recognized it instantly. I know she's been dead for 11 years now...that's why it scared me. The scent only lasted a few moments before it disappeared, but it shook me up. Why now and why at the theater, of all places?

Things are pretty rough around here. I'm bored and getting itchy, my car died yet again, my uncle is continually in the hospital with failing health. He just had surgery tuesday night to have a tumor removed, and he's not doing very well. It's a never ending cycle of hospitalizations, and it's stressful. Not to mention the fact that every time I ask my dad how he's doing, he replies with he's fine, but he's old and lived a long life, and it's been a good life, so it's probably time.

...Thanks dad. I hate that we have such different takes on death. I'm sure some of you remember the debacle of my aunts death. I, after having lived through many a relatives deaths, really don't handle it well. Even at 5 I handled it poorly. My brother and my parents just sort of shrug their shoulders and move on. *sigh* So I think he's trying to soften the eventual blow of my uncles death. Which, fine, I get it. But I'm 23 years old. I understand that he is old and that death happens. Understandng doesn't make it any easier though.

Watched part of The Usual Suspects tonight. If you haven't seen that movie, SEE IT! I looove it. the ending is the best thing ever. But yes, see it.

I hope you're enjoying Parade, those that now have it anyways. I'm off to bed.