Where to begin? I will begin with saying that I am a Christian- I believe in Jesus Christ. The second thing I will say is that I've only ever truly loved one man- and that that is a big deal. And the third thing I will say is that to me, kisses are precious. How I feel about kissing has really nothing to do with my spiritual beliefs. A kiss is precious. It is communicative, and very, very personal.
When I auditioned for this play, I didn't know that I would get a part that had kissing in it. True, its only one kiss, and I am being a character and pretending...but Abbey's lips have to touch someone else's...someone else who all she knows about them is their name. His name is Manuel. And that is all I know about him. We had our first rehearsal yesterday, and we did the scene where Abbey has to kiss Manuel, but in their minds it was the scene where Duckling kisses Harry Brewer. Yesterday, I did it. I did it and I was hard pressed to get the tears out of my eyes so I could see while driving on the way home. I realized a few things:

FACT: I am a prude.
FACT: I don't care.
FACT: I have to quit this show.

I refuse to kiss a guy I don't know and don't care for. By doing this I am dooming myself of ever being cast in a play at my community college ever again. Again, I don't care. This is what has to be done because this show does not glorify my God. This show, as my friend Ellie put it, is just full of "uckiness." And I think that's totally true. So, Abbey Dawn will be her little techie self and run lights for this show, but she will have no part in its conception, and she will cheer her friends on as they do what they love. Because the truth is, I do not love acting or theatre this much to go through with this. That's just it and that's all.

say what you wish-
Abbey Dawn

Listen. Please.


For the last three days, I've sat down at my laptop, Alistair Stefan, half a dozen times, and tried to write a blog. And half a dozen times, for one reason or another, I have x-ed out of the Xanga Weblog Entry template.
But now here I sit and I believe I'm finally ready to write a coherent blog.
I have a feeling this blog is going to be a plethora of things, about a plethora of things. Like, how I wore my new boots that I bought before Christmas for the first time today. Or how I'm trying to stop drinking soda and I'm really feeling the effects of my caffeine withdrawals. Or perhaps how I have a gypsy queen name now. Every girl should have a gypsy queen name. Yes, I shall discuss all of these things and more.

We had auditions in the theatre for a play called Our Country's Good last week. It is a really good show about convicts in early Australia and how theatre effects people, all kinds of people. And we get to use accents. Very cool. In this show, there are only five female parts. One of which is very small and called Shitty Meg. Yeah, Shitty Meg. Awesome stuff. The female competition is pretty heavy in our theatre, as we're all attention whores. The castlist gets posted tomorrow. We're all pretty anxious. My friends and I have good relationships, though, so if Kate gets a part and Ellie doesn't, no one will hate anyone else.

We have a theatre lobby. The theatre lobby is a pretty big place, but usually only one part of it is inhabited on a daily basis. People don't know, but you could live in the theatre and no one would ever know it. It's got all the amenities of home, save a kitchen. We've got showers, cots, bathrooms, and a whole costume shop full of clothes if you don't feel like using the washer, dryer, and iron we have too. We do have a fridge. :) Anyway, there is a group of people that live in the theatre lobby that frequent the area in front of my boss Mark's door. Mark has dubbed our group The Gypsy Encampment. He named us this, not knowing that Kate would give Ellie, myself, and herself gypsy queen titles. I love my gypsy queen title: Techie Goddess Gypsy Queen Moon Bride of the Night Quarter. Elaborate, yes? Fabulous? Also, yes. Theirs are also fabulous.

I've decided to see how long I can go without drinking soda. This is difficult, as I am completely addicted to Pepsi. So far I've gone a day and a half, drinking water, milk, and a little bit of tea. I need to find an alternative that doesn't want to kill me and give me ulcers, etc. Any suggestions? I think maybe something that tastes good, and is good for me...does such an animal even exist?
Pscht. Doubtful.

I'm hanging with my mom today, in her office, volunteering, making signs and stuff. We go to lunch and make a trip to the bank...and we see three different cars with three different people that my mother and I hoped to never see again. Pious, churchgoing people that ruined a few of my favorite people's lives. I hate it when that happens. I mostly hate how when they're pulling out of the drive through at the bank, they have the nerve to roll down their window and fake a southern drawl and go, "Well, hey there, Abbey and Savannah! How're y'all doin?" I kind of rolled my eyes. Mom had to be polite and ask after his wife, etc. Blech. What really gets me is that they're probably the kind of people that if they ever wrote the word "y'all", they'd punctuate it wrong, like almost everyone else in the world does, like "ya'll"....completely forgetting that it is a contraction for "you all." Morons.
I wonder when they started using the contraction "y'all". I'm going to go look it up.
Ahhhhh, I love Wikipedia.
"

The true origin of the term is uncertain. It is a common belief that y'all evolved in the speech of people in the Southern United States as a replacement for "you all" due to its convenience. Rather than say you all, you-uns, you lot, or you guys; y'all may be construed as a single element requiring only one morpheme.

Though the you all contraction argument may make sense when considering current-day vernacular, it is prudent to consider the vernacular which existed at the time which y'all was likely invented. By the late 1700s, Scots-Irish immigrants had settled in the Southern United States. It is well established that Scots-Irish immigrants frequently used the term ye aw. ^{[3][verification needed]} Some evidence suggests that y'all could have evolved from ye haw due to the influence of African slaves who may have adapted the Scots-Irish term.^{[4][verification needed]}

The evolution of y'all continues today. There appears to be an increasing tendency, especially on the Internet, to spell it without the apostrophe, yall."

Well, that answers that question. :)
I like my life right now. Its mostly happy.

lost again-
Abbey Dawn