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K, Know how when I get real tired I start to have ttrouble speaking? Well, I know it's really bad when I can't even put up pre-printed words without a typu.~~~~~~
Not a good sign. I was sure they had tracked me down, but I just kept a low profile and they left eventually. But not before questioning my friends (they said "Nice day, isn't it?" to CoffeeChica), and meeting with the school officials to show 'em my picture (they were having a community meeting). Luckily, the surgery has changed my features enough that there was no suspicion what-so-ever.
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Waiting shoes. Stairwell. Many sweaty bodies. No shoes. Same outfit three nights in a row. Constant shushing. Exhaustion. Thirst. Dry lips. Heavy head piece. Cold floors. Hot lights. Complicated song arrangements. Unhappy baby "Jesus." Rushed changes. Sick soloists. Coughing spells. Fainting Sopranos. Nervous Gabriel. Falling microphones. Missed lines. Butchered notes.
God's presence. Moving score. Glorious melodies. Realistic beards. Old people make up. The shepherds. Twenty year old "Old Man." Funny faces. "Gloria." "There is a remedy." Receptive audiences. Bro. Wolf. Tympani. Cool props. Lines out the door. Eating out. Making memories. Touching hearts. Standing ovations for hard working music staff. 
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Decor is going up like mad. Scary ones, too.
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Now it's raining off and on here and 'Ohio-ing' at home! What is up with the weather? Tesla must be having a ball right about now.
Lady Anne
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