Next time, I'm going to grad school in a place devoid of a gravitational pull.

Sweeney Todd was awesome on so many levels. Hello, new take on the classic show! The insane asylum idea is pretty cool. I scoffed at the mimed food until Robert reminded me it was a loony bin. This lady behind me at the theater griped all through intermission how Sweeney just looked TOO NORMAL, and I was like, "HELLO! People who look freaky are some of the nicest people ever, and just because you don't look crazy doesn't mean you're a total sociopath hellbent on revenge." I loved that the actors sang, acted, and played all the music themselves. I loved the minimalist set, how it was versatile and clever. The only thing I found a tad off was the part where Antony was singing about Joanna's "yellow hair." Because her hair was brown. Crazy house, yes, but not color-blind. Meh. On another note, graduate school and my body are currently at war with one another. I'm not taking sides at this point, mostly because I'm hating them both with every fiber of my being. I'm exaggerating. But that doesn't mean the pain isn't real.

I spent a solid three hours tonight alternately pacing the house, trying to sit and read, and collapsing to the floor in agony before righting myself and trying to stretch my poor, aching muscles. My hips are taking turns, each side, delivering a dull yet throbbing pain through the rest of my legs, and it's all I can do not to lop them off with the spare binder clip lying on my desk and then chuck them into the pool. The extra annoying part was that, even at the theater, my hips and legs were threatening even to stab me in the back in an effort ruin my experience.

I'm supposed to have an eight-page outline plus a two-page response paper typed by tomorrow night, and all I've been able to type is this post, which is the brilliant culmination of eight minutes of sitting down and using every ounce of brainpower to ignore my legs. December 16 had better hurry the fuck up and get here. The rest of this semester can suck it.