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I was supposed to get up today at seven. Thanks to a blessed combination of inaccurate alarm clocks, I didn't fall out of bed until a quarter to nine. I got in to school for ten and therefore had a first - I was in the right place at the right time having had enough sleep and so not pissed off. The first thing I noticed is the fact today was workshop day. First of all, the helpers, who were all in uniform and tiny, but they weren't as scary as the workshop-people themselves, who are absolutely minute. The school was full of them, and the quad stopped seeming like a quadrangle and more like a playground. Full of screaming kids.
I'm missing the point. We were doing make-up, and I can honestly say I was crap at it. I don't wear make-up myself. Is that so hard to believe? I mean... I like lipgloss. Who doesn't? And I like some stuff. I just don't ever wear make-up unless it's imperative that I do, and so, naturally, I did not enjoy having to do some in the morning today. That was natural, human make-up, and it was okay. Happily, the helper-person (I think her name was Laura) was a lot more helpful this time. She was in fact very nice. So I managed, and even agreed to the digital camera being brought near. No, you can't see the pic.
Lunch.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cucharita turned up, and Mrs Bush thought we were sixth-formers. This was frankly scary and made me feel old, especially as I was standing in the dining-room which was at the time full of screaming nine-year-olds. I don't think I ever went to a worskshop day like this - obviously, didn't go to the Birkenhead one, and I didn't get into Stanfield when I was nine - so it was a new experience, even if I was only an observer. They were being persuaded that Merchants' is a good place by the quality of its food. I had my own lunch, bagel and banoffee pie, but I took some strawberries. It seemed like the right thing to do.
The afternoon's make-up was the fancy one - the fairies from a Midsummer Night's Dream. Yusra went first, and I looked.... unbelievable. I had black lashes and eyeliner, with this pink 'n' blue 'n' white design done round my eyes with the greasepaint stage make-up. I couldn't believe it when she'd finished it. At the same time, Becca was making Thomas up as Oberon, and he was a real gentleman, not complaning when she got grey stuff all over him and tried to make him up as a negative photograph. He even agreed to don a cloak and say, "Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania." I was Titania the first time round, as I somehow know that whole section of dialogue, and then I had to play the unnamed fairy with Ella as Puck. I love that play. For some reason, the syllabus specifies we have to do the make-up for a performance, but it doesn't specify how long that performance should be. So we went from "Ill met by moonlight," to "...forsworn his bed and company," and that constituted a performance. We now have to evaluate it and write it up. Much joy.
I walked home and it was freezing cold, and for some reason the whole of Crosby smells of fish. I don't know why. I also just missed the train, so I was a little annoyed, but I read some more of Dead Famous, walked home from the station - Formby smells of salt and pine as always - and collapsed onto my bed. It's been a very tiring day and I still have pink eyelashes.
I'm missing the point. We were doing make-up, and I can honestly say I was crap at it. I don't wear make-up myself. Is that so hard to believe? I mean... I like lipgloss. Who doesn't? And I like some stuff. I just don't ever wear make-up unless it's imperative that I do, and so, naturally, I did not enjoy having to do some in the morning today. That was natural, human make-up, and it was okay. Happily, the helper-person (I think her name was Laura) was a lot more helpful this time. She was in fact very nice. So I managed, and even agreed to the digital camera being brought near. No, you can't see the pic.
Lunch.
cucharita turned up, and Mrs Bush thought we were sixth-formers. This was frankly scary and made me feel old, especially as I was standing in the dining-room which was at the time full of screaming nine-year-olds. I don't think I ever went to a worskshop day like this - obviously, didn't go to the Birkenhead one, and I didn't get into Stanfield when I was nine - so it was a new experience, even if I was only an observer. They were being persuaded that Merchants' is a good place by the quality of its food. I had my own lunch, bagel and banoffee pie, but I took some strawberries. It seemed like the right thing to do.The afternoon's make-up was the fancy one - the fairies from a Midsummer Night's Dream. Yusra went first, and I looked.... unbelievable. I had black lashes and eyeliner, with this pink 'n' blue 'n' white design done round my eyes with the greasepaint stage make-up. I couldn't believe it when she'd finished it. At the same time, Becca was making Thomas up as Oberon, and he was a real gentleman, not complaning when she got grey stuff all over him and tried to make him up as a negative photograph. He even agreed to don a cloak and say, "Ill met by moonlight, proud Titania." I was Titania the first time round, as I somehow know that whole section of dialogue, and then I had to play the unnamed fairy with Ella as Puck. I love that play. For some reason, the syllabus specifies we have to do the make-up for a performance, but it doesn't specify how long that performance should be. So we went from "Ill met by moonlight," to "...forsworn his bed and company," and that constituted a performance. We now have to evaluate it and write it up. Much joy.
I walked home and it was freezing cold, and for some reason the whole of Crosby smells of fish. I don't know why. I also just missed the train, so I was a little annoyed, but I read some more of Dead Famous, walked home from the station - Formby smells of salt and pine as always - and collapsed onto my bed. It's been a very tiring day and I still have pink eyelashes.