This is the best time of my life?
This past week was the opening of my high school's production of Fiddler on the Roof. Since I am a part of this production, I have been at school all day everyday this week (except for today which was Saturday). As exhausting as it is, I am told that when I am old and grey, I will think of this last month of my final year of high school as the best time of my life.
I doubt it. The best time of my life will be spent in Antarctica with my handsome husband who is unknown to me at this moment. The Antarctica bit is still a little uncertain at the moment also. It might turn out to be Prague, Venice, Calcutta, etc., but I really am aiming for Antarctica.
Antarctica?! you might ask, What in heaven would compel you to go there willingly?! (I said "might" because some of you may already understand or even sympathize with such a desire.)
I understand your confusion, but I ask you to think about it. Antarctica is beautiful, not in a pleasant way, but in a magnificent way. Plus: imagine being somewhere as desolate, lonely, and magnificent as the South Pole with the one person you love the most. It seems a lot less lonely and desolate and a whole lot more magnificent. Also, there are penguins. (And don't you dare say "But there are penguins elsewhere in the world" because I know that. Penguins are just a perk to going to Antarctica.)
Anyway... Back to Fiddler. My part is the grandmother who comes to Tevye in a dream to tell him that his daughter should marry the tailor. I know that really doesn't help those of you who are not at all familiar with Fiddler, but oh well. The point is that I get to wear old age make up and to walk around all hunched over, and my hair gets to be sprayed silver.
Thus, I am already as old and grey as I will be when I think of this as one of the best times of my life.
But getting the silver out of my hair is a hassle. It means washing my hair multiple times, and after staying at school till 10 or 11, one doesn't feel like getting in the shower or sticking one's head in the sink. Neither does one feel like getting up half an hour early to do so. Thus, I wore my grey hair to school on Friday, and apparently, it wasn't that noticeable, and as I am told, it looked quite natural.
I don't know if that is good or bad.
Either way, I can't wait to be a real grandma and have real grey hair. I don't care what anybody says; I think that time of my life may very well rival Antarctica with Mr. Whoever-it-will-be.
I doubt it. The best time of my life will be spent in Antarctica with my handsome husband who is unknown to me at this moment. The Antarctica bit is still a little uncertain at the moment also. It might turn out to be Prague, Venice, Calcutta, etc., but I really am aiming for Antarctica.
Antarctica?! you might ask, What in heaven would compel you to go there willingly?! (I said "might" because some of you may already understand or even sympathize with such a desire.)
I understand your confusion, but I ask you to think about it. Antarctica is beautiful, not in a pleasant way, but in a magnificent way. Plus: imagine being somewhere as desolate, lonely, and magnificent as the South Pole with the one person you love the most. It seems a lot less lonely and desolate and a whole lot more magnificent. Also, there are penguins. (And don't you dare say "But there are penguins elsewhere in the world" because I know that. Penguins are just a perk to going to Antarctica.)
Anyway... Back to Fiddler. My part is the grandmother who comes to Tevye in a dream to tell him that his daughter should marry the tailor. I know that really doesn't help those of you who are not at all familiar with Fiddler, but oh well. The point is that I get to wear old age make up and to walk around all hunched over, and my hair gets to be sprayed silver.
Thus, I am already as old and grey as I will be when I think of this as one of the best times of my life.
But getting the silver out of my hair is a hassle. It means washing my hair multiple times, and after staying at school till 10 or 11, one doesn't feel like getting in the shower or sticking one's head in the sink. Neither does one feel like getting up half an hour early to do so. Thus, I wore my grey hair to school on Friday, and apparently, it wasn't that noticeable, and as I am told, it looked quite natural.
I don't know if that is good or bad.
Either way, I can't wait to be a real grandma and have real grey hair. I don't care what anybody says; I think that time of my life may very well rival Antarctica with Mr. Whoever-it-will-be.
posted by Sarah at 11:44 PM
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