Yesterday’s début in front of an audience of twenty people or so, most of whom were there to meet the other people and not to necessarily watch the act on stage, didn’t leave any wider impression on the greater campus life. Nobody had even heard that there was such a show.

English: Poster for The Three Musketeers (1921...
Not exactly the Three Musketeers these days (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I, of course, accused my two companions Ben and Abbie of dereliction of duty. What happened to the ‘one for all, and all for one’ exactly? Couldn’t they get their act together and leave watching X-Factor to experience some true culture for once? In effect, yours truly, up on stage, being amazing.

“There, there”, Mark says when I come home and tell him about my so called friends, and then he adds that which makes me wonder why I married such a cultural wasteland. “I’m sure everyone thought you were just like another Justin Bieber.” What? Get drunk, drive fast, and then have a widely supported petition for the government to deport me? Mark is not getting my blanket, which he uses all the time, if I am. I have a fluffy fleece-like blanket which is utterly and devastatingly comfortable, and he uses it all the time when I’m not looking. It was a present from my mother, no less, which he just thoughtlessly appropriates for his own lazy use.

Stephen, who I usually can expect to understand what it’s like for real, just gave me a blank stare, and then said “What, there’s X-Factor on the telly? I thought it was off-season”. I swear… I had to thoroughly trounce him on the X-Box to show him proper deference to my actor angst.

Seriously though, I still have that little buzz. Yes, the audience may have been tiny last night, and they were probably there to meet friends, and we up on stage were more likely to be a more interesting backdrop to social things. But it was a stage, and I sang, and it was great. Yeah, I still get that tingly feeling thinking about it.

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