Barry, Trip-sitter

Last night was interesting.

First was a pretty intense Icarus' Mother rehearsal, which included crying and long conversation about urinating into my open wounds, a concept that I vehemently protested. I didn't sign up for that crap.

Afterwards, we went over to the usual Theater party central. I have to tell you, I feel sorry for the four seniors that live there. There are random people there pretty much every single night. I think I would start throwing stuff if I lived there. Everyone uses their cups and drinks their booze and plays their Wii, it would suck after awhile. Oh well, at least they can't say they can get bored. And I've severely pissed off the proprietors of that household on a few locations, but I think they are cool with me now, sorta.

Anyway, while we there, three of my friends drank vials of synthetic mescaline that they bought earlier. I didn't have any, and didn't realize they were tripping until I noticed their pupils were the size of dinner plates. We walked around outside and played out on the beach. One of my friends, Chris, decided he wanted to walk around the streets, so I thought I should look after him. We had a long talk about life, acting, dream girls, and clouds. It was semi-insightful. We'll have to do it again sometime. Or maybe not. I thought they might jump over the pier and into the lake. Uh-oh.

We went back to the Theater apartment, drank, and then walked around campus. I figured I might as well leave now. And so I did. There it is. Life.

Dude,
Barry