April 24, 2009

Tell me that you love me more

Watching the Jungle Book performance today almost broke my heart. It brought back so many memories of my first play, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. It was boring for the first few weeks--and auditions, as I recall, were FREEZING cold. I didn't take off my coat for the whole two, or even three hours.

Doing the Merry Makers was fine--but I realized I am pretty much the only sixteen-year-old girl that does those plays. So after the Merry Makers I thought, I don't think I'll do them anymore. But watching the Jungle Book made me so sad. I remembered every fun memory I had of Narnia, and I felt the sting as I watched them bow and I remembered how full one's heart feels at the curtain call. *sigh*

I'm hopeless, I know.

Plays aren't much. I never hope to act for a living or anything huge like that. It's just something I do for fun. I miss Narnia... and I miss being fourteen. Actually I guess I was fifteen, since we started Narnia in January. But it was so easy! And I remember I made my mom add an extra button to my Mrs. Macready costume because I didn't want anyone to see my knees :) ahh, I am such a silly girl.

I just re-read my last paragraph and I realized that I said it was so easy. I can't figure out why I said that or what I meant to say instead. I'm listening to Jonathan Park right now so I'm a little distracted. Of course he's saving the day, like always.

And as far as high-maintenance friends, are they really worth it? Is the fun and pleasure worth the pain they can cause? Oh, don't ask me. You know I don't know.

Better a witty fool than a foolish wit. --Shakespeare

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