How do you solve a problem like Christina?
I have a friend. He asked me if it was every girl's fantasy to be a nun. I looked at him strange. And then I went and dressed up as an Escapee From The Convent.
Yeah. And I thought he was strange.
It was that time of year again when Sing-A-Long Sound Of Music came to town. Tickets had been bought weeks before. Costumes had been hired. And I was ready to sing and climb every mountain with the rest of the local nutters here who have a hankering for apple strudel, men in Lederhosens and singing (really badly) with other people (who are also singing really badly).
I have a confession though. I'm not a virgin Sing-A-Long Sound Of Music (SSOM) attendee. I won tickets several years ago. I took my mother who was unaware of the fact that it was pretty much karaoke. She was, however, rather perplexed why I was dressed up before we left the house. I use 'dressed up' in a very loose way. At my first foray into the SSOM I wore a brown Op Shop dress, an old school shirt, sandals with socks and I had a kerchief on to go with a blonde wig with two pigtails that went down to my ankles. Now what I was supposed to be - I'm not quite sure. I looked like the love child of a Viking and Girl Scout with a gene gone wrong. But I did look ridiculous enough to pass for having 'made an effort' when it came to getting into the whole cosplay.
This time around, I was prepared and I took friends - Melissa and Caroline - who I prepared the event for. Nuns On The Run. I looked less ridiculous than the last time. But I do love my kitsch and B-grade costuming skills (actually more like C-grade). I made a crucifix to wear. Hello paddle-popsticks! Mel was apprehensive that we would look odd and suggested we park close to the venue and run from car to the theatre. When we got the Regal Theatre - anyone who wasn't in costume stood out. Talk about peer pressure. Honey - where's your habit?
I didn't win any prize for best dressed. I looked pedestrian alongside the other 50 nuns who were there that night. Best dressed went to the goats. Somewhere out there, someone's missing their car-seat covers.
As for the rest of the night, we sang and clapped, we yelled and cheered. We booed when the Nazis came on scene. We whooped when Maria made those kids' play clothes of curtains. We popped our poppers when Maria and Captain Von Trapp kissed (which is a lot less dirty than it sounds). We yodelled with the lonely goatherd. And I think we all regressed to about the age of 8.
Not bad for a night out, eh? When we walk to the carpark after the show, still dressed in our nun outfits, some drunken moron screams out "Are you a virgin?!" I can picture it in the papers tomorrow:
"Youth Stabbed To Death With Paddle-Popstick Crucifix By Nun With Bad Habit".
Yeah. And I thought he was strange.
It was that time of year again when Sing-A-Long Sound Of Music came to town. Tickets had been bought weeks before. Costumes had been hired. And I was ready to sing and climb every mountain with the rest of the local nutters here who have a hankering for apple strudel, men in Lederhosens and singing (really badly) with other people (who are also singing really badly).
I have a confession though. I'm not a virgin Sing-A-Long Sound Of Music (SSOM) attendee. I won tickets several years ago. I took my mother who was unaware of the fact that it was pretty much karaoke. She was, however, rather perplexed why I was dressed up before we left the house. I use 'dressed up' in a very loose way. At my first foray into the SSOM I wore a brown Op Shop dress, an old school shirt, sandals with socks and I had a kerchief on to go with a blonde wig with two pigtails that went down to my ankles. Now what I was supposed to be - I'm not quite sure. I looked like the love child of a Viking and Girl Scout with a gene gone wrong. But I did look ridiculous enough to pass for having 'made an effort' when it came to getting into the whole cosplay.
This time around, I was prepared and I took friends - Melissa and Caroline - who I prepared the event for. Nuns On The Run. I looked less ridiculous than the last time. But I do love my kitsch and B-grade costuming skills (actually more like C-grade). I made a crucifix to wear. Hello paddle-popsticks! Mel was apprehensive that we would look odd and suggested we park close to the venue and run from car to the theatre. When we got the Regal Theatre - anyone who wasn't in costume stood out. Talk about peer pressure. Honey - where's your habit?
I didn't win any prize for best dressed. I looked pedestrian alongside the other 50 nuns who were there that night. Best dressed went to the goats. Somewhere out there, someone's missing their car-seat covers.As for the rest of the night, we sang and clapped, we yelled and cheered. We booed when the Nazis came on scene. We whooped when Maria made those kids' play clothes of curtains. We popped our poppers when Maria and Captain Von Trapp kissed (which is a lot less dirty than it sounds). We yodelled with the lonely goatherd. And I think we all regressed to about the age of 8.
Not bad for a night out, eh? When we walk to the carpark after the show, still dressed in our nun outfits, some drunken moron screams out "Are you a virgin?!" I can picture it in the papers tomorrow:
"Youth Stabbed To Death With Paddle-Popstick Crucifix By Nun With Bad Habit".
posted by Christina at 11:33 PM
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