Inside Jokes

This weekend has been simply wonderful, and it’s all been because of the wonderful, funny, beautiful girls I get to spend it with. I’m tellin ya, part of the joy of performing is bonding with my girlies in the dressing room. Many good times are had back there. We’ve come up with countless inside jokes, and I’m absolutely in love with them.
For instance, we were discussing silly things and I expressed my desire to walk onstage looking pregnant, because my dress looks like a maternity dress. (plus, that would explain my fierce anger. HORMONES!!) Soon, all the girls got into it, and we decided that that must happen. So in the dressing room, we stuffed various objects under our shirts and made ourselves look expectant.
So yesterday morning, I got the bright idea to send a sweet picture to each of them.
So I did.

The picture taking capabilities of my phone are astounding.
“On a scale of one to 9 months, HOW READY ARE YOU FOR TONIGHT??”
I enthused.

“Only about 4 months! 🙁 But I’m growing fast!”
Brittley stated.

“10 months!”
Jennika squealed.

“At the doctor’s office in labor!”
Lexi shrieked.

I was exceedingly happy they all replied with pictures of their own, because that was what I was hoping for, but didn’t say. That’s just how in sync we all are, I suppose. :^D
I love my girls. This weekend has been wonderful, and I’m grateful to have been with them from the conception of this idea to the delivery room of the stage.
Dang, that was deep.

~Haeley

Diva’s Lament

(sorry about the swear. This song just fits the title. And how about her voice, eh? Dang. :P)

Production week is finally here, and opening night is tomorrow! You’d think the nervous anticipation and good notes I’ve gotten would make me happy, but I am not.
I am furious.
Permit me to have a little fit of rage on this blog, will you? Thanks. I appreciate it.
I really am not loving my costume, you guys. I’m really not. First off, it’s made of this icky looking crushed velvet,


Say it with me, children: TACKY.

And it’s made in the style of the Austen-era dresses. So, like this:

Which sounds pretty in theory, but I discovered something: When you’re as short as I am, and your hips are as ample as mine, you end up looking like a pregnant walrus stuffed in a trash bag.
Which is all well and good, I mean, I can deal with that. I’m used to looking fat onstage, that just comes with the territory of having curves. But they decided to rub a little bit of salt in my fatty wound, because the sleeves are so tight I can barely move in them. Last time I checked, arm corsets weren’t in style, um, EVER. So I basically become Barney for the night.

Look deep into my eyes.

So my movements are extremely restricted, and that screws me up, because as the Queen of Hearts, I move a LOT. And instead of helping a sista out, the costumer said to suck it up and make it part of my character. Which irritates me, but I’ve learned to adapt- kinda. It’s still difficult, but it’s not nearly as bad as…. The Wig.
The wig deserves a special little corner of hell, to be perfectly frank. It’s horrible, it’s terrible, it’s itchy, it’s hot, it’s as ugly as golem,

Ugly? Whaddaya mean, ugly?

I just………. hate it. Maybe it’s because I’m in a show, so I’m just mentally in Broadway, but gosh, I feel like this towards the wig:

Just apply the lyrics to the wig. It’s perfectly fitting, and actually kind of hilarious to picture. Can’t you just see the girls singing about a wig? HA.
The thing is, I KNOW I’m not supposed to look “pretty” in this show. I GET THAT. But I hate being ugly. I already have self-image problems as is. I don’t need that horrid hairpiece getting in the way. It’s also not even CLOSE to looking steampunk, which is stupid, because that is what the whole freaking play is themed. I look like Edna Mode.


Foxy.

Or maybe this dude:

The possibilities are ENDLESS when you look this ugly!

I just realized we’re all short, loud, and sassy. Great. I really AM one of them now.
Anyway, I HATE the way it looks. It’s a very round shape, which makes my face look round, which makes my body look round. And as we’ve stated before, I have issues with that. So, I look like an evil Pillsbury dough boy. :^( I hate feeling like this. I hate being a brat. I hate being whiny. But I HATE feeling disgusting. I just look terrible. I was hoping I might look pretty in this one, but oh, no! Not so!
Sigh….
The horrible thing about it all is they won’t let me change it! I would willingly dye my hair black for this role, and there are so many other ideas that would actually FIT THE DANG THEME, but apparently, I’m a puppet with no mind of it’s own.
Awesome.

~Haeley

(I realize that was a tad dramatic and abrasive, but I’m still riding the adrenaline from tonight, and hello? I’m the queen. Aren’t I entitled to fits of rage??)

A short tale of illness, garlic, and nose breath.

This week is production week for Alice in Wonderland, and as the Queen of Hearts, I cannot exactly afford to lose my voice/get sick. So I’ve basically been panicking until I took to Facebook with my worries. I got TONS of suggestions, and among them was the suggestion that I purchase a bottle of magical pills called Super Lysine. Apparently, it’s good enough to stop the stomach flu!
So it was off to Sprout’s to buy the pills!
On the way home, I discovered the ingredients and one of the ingredients was odorless garlic. Well, at least it was odorless, right? That way I wouldn’t have to deal with any awkward smell…
Or so I thought.
Have you ever taken a pill (ie fish oil or maybe essential oils) and had it manifest itself later in the form of your breath? It’s bizarre how that works, and I’m not sure how it does, but somehow, I suppose it travels up from your belly into your breath- so frustrating, right?
Anyway, I noticed that odorless garlic actually has an odor, and the smell is strong enough to become a component of your breath, which was embarrassing, but not a big deal. All in the name of health, I guess.
Halfway through sacrament meeting, however, I came upon a horrifying realization.
The garlic smell wasn’t coming through my breath.
It was coming through my skin. My chest, particularly. I couldn’t smell it on my arms or anywhere else, but it was indeed eeking out of the pores on my chest. So I suffered through sacrament meeting feeling like Texas toast, and then told Geneal about my unfortunate state. So she hugged me in order to see if I was insane or not, and sadly, we discovered that yes, I really do have garlic saturating my pores. Savannah even remarked on how she noticed it during the meeting, so I am just feeling very embarrassed right now.
But I heard that this stuff works miracles, and I just want to be better already, so I’ll take the risk.

~Haeley

A post in which I justify my celebrity crush on Asa Butterfield.

Asa Butterfield. What an interesting, intriguing name, no? But just who is this mysterious human? You may remember him from the movie Hugo, in which he stars as Hugo himself.

I realize that in this movie, he looks approximately as mature as a 10-year old. I get that, okay? But that is not what began my crush, although his eyes are GORGEOUS. But you already knew I had a weakness for blue eyes. No, what finally sealed the deal with my tender little heartstrings was Ender’s Game.
He still doesn’t look super old/mature in this movie, and yet, I still began to feel something deep within for the skinny, blue-eyed wonder. I felt guilty and ashamed of these feelings, sure that he was only 12, but upon further investigation (and several Pinterest pins later), I discovered that Asa Butterfield was born April 1, 1997. Suddenly, my heart leapt. This could only mean one thing: THIS MAGNIFICENT CREATURE IS ONLY 16 YEARS OLD, THEREFORE I CAN STILL TOTALLY HAVE A CRUSH ON HIM AND NOT FEEL TOTALLY AWKWARD.Yes, I realize this makes me somewhat of a cougar, but I’ve come to terms with it and now I can stare unabashedly at his magnanimous blue eyes for hours on end. Okay, maybe not HOURS, but I am happy to be open about it now. To further my justification, I will now compile a list of Reasons Why Asa Butterfield is Attractive and You Should Not Hide Your Feelings Toward Him. 
Reason #1:
He’s extremely good at casually staring into your eyes and capturing your heart.

Reason #2:
THOSE EYES. IS ANYBODY ELSE DYING RIGHT NOW

Reason #3:
He holds babies, and what isn’t lovable about that?

 Reason #4:
He looks fantastic in black framed glasses. *heart explodes*

Reason #5:
He can make goofy faces and still look attractive. (Hello, blue eyes!)

Reason #6:
Look at that dark hair and porcelain skin. Swoon.

Reason #7:
Uh…. His smile is fantastic.

Oh, stop it, you.

So….. Yeah. I think he is a beautiful addition to God’s green earth, and you should too. Although, if you don’t feel the same, more for me! Bweheheheh.

~Haeley

Happy (late) Halloween!

So, I know this is terribly late, but in an effort to document my insanity (and show you some RIDICULOUS pictures of me), I’ve decided to tell you a magical story of Halloween.

First off, we had pumpkin carving, which was a cheery affair involving pumpkin guts and slimy knives.

It was then that Haeley realized the power of the Lorax… Resided inside her.

Even though we sketched out many different ideas, Lula and I decided against making an elaborate face, settling instead on random shapes. I originally envisioned a lovely, geometric pumpkin full of wonder and grace, but…. I got lazy and quit while I was ahead. It still turned out cool though, right? Ha. Don’t answer that.

After that came the ward Trunk-Or-Treat! I decided to go as a mime, and lemme tell ya, that was a HIT. Even though I’m a complete chatterbox, I can make a pretty legit mime. I had people coming up to me the whole night, betting they could make me talk. Guess who won?

That’s right. Me.

I call this, “silence of the hams.”

I LOVE being a mime, honestly. It is seriously so fun. I really wanted to be a mime at school the next day, but the rule is no face painting, so I had to settle for something a little more…. Age appropriate.

This costume. Oh my. This was probably one of the best ideas I’ve ever had, to be perfectly frank. It was hilarious watching all the reactions all day! I scared a few people, made a few more do a double-take, and generally enjoyed being a grumpy old hag. This costume was LEAGUES above and beyond any other costume I’ve ever worn at school- trust me, they’ve all sucked big time. Big. Time. This one was a triumph, however, and I can’t remember the last time it was so fun to frown all day.
All in all…. Good times were had.

~Haeley

Winter Formal 2013 part 1: the ask.

Yes, I know Homecoming just barely happened, but when you go to a school as small as mine, a girl’s got to ask QUICKLY, otherwise you don’t get a real date and this happens. So, pretty much the day after Homecoming, it’s open season for us ladies.

Just pretend the 3 animals are girls & you have an accurate
representation of what it’s like out there.

 It’s pretty cut-throat.
You have to act as fast as humanly possible, because if a guy is even remotely attractive, rest assured he’ll be asked within two weeks.
And if the guy is popular…. Well, it gets even MORE crazy.

It is a stampede. A stampede of insane girls, all after one boy.
Like I said, you have to act fast.
A while ago, whilst in the midst of running bread route, my darling Jennika and I stumbled upon an idea of complete and utter genius. We would ask Ben and McKay to Winter Formal and double up! However, seeing as how the two of them are easily THE most well-known boys in school, we would have to ask even quicker than usual! We would simply ask them the day of the Homecoming game (a day before the Homecoming dance), and get ‘er done quickly. Here is the illustrated version of our plan:

It. Was. Gold. But as time went by, we discovered that McKay had already been asked more than a week prior (which is totally RIDICULOUS), and then I began hearing about other girls’ intense dislike for anyone who asked before Homecoming. I became timid, and worried about social exile, when I heard another thing that decided it once and for all: Ben, my prospective date, absolutely despised the idea of being asked before Homecoming was over. So I scrapped the early bird plan and decided to ask him Saturday, the day after the dance. By this time I was REALLY nervous, because I didn’t want him to completely hate me for asking so soon, but it had to be done.
So Saturday morning, I was chilling out, editing my Homecoming pictures, when I got a text message asking me if I’d asked Ben yet. I replied that I would ask in approximately an hour and a half.
She said to hurry, because someone else was fixing to ask him that day too. Soon. I had to JUMP ON IT. So, my heart pumping madly and my hands shaking fiercely, I bolted up the stairs and broke the news to my mom. Instantly, she morphed into Super Mom, because without hesitation, she grabbed her purse, slipped on her shoes, and asked me for his address. This was happening, and it was happening NOW. I told her the address, and we zoomed off to WalMart to grab a poster board and some Hershey’s kisses. The whole shopping trip probably lasted about 40 seconds, and we practically ran back to the car. I frantically wrote the words,
Ben,
I “kiss” the ground you walk on…
Will you go to Winter Formal with me?
I wrote my name on the back, and we sped off towards his house. Once we got there, however, we noticed a man in the yard. Worried that it was him, we awkwardly stayed in the car for a few more moments until I realized it was just his dad. So I timidly got out of the car and asked if Ben was home. He said no, and I scrambled up the front walk to set up my invitation. I placed the poster gingerly in front of the door, and sprinkled Kisses all over the porch. Afterwards, I jumped back in the car and we drove home. Having successfully beaten the other girl to the punch, I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I did it! I actually did it!
So now we wait….
My fingers are crossed.

~Haeley