Last night, our school held the annual graduation ball, during which the graduating classes each perform separate dances, as well as one together - the grad ball waltz (where girls wear dresses that look like wedding dresses, according to - basically everyone). Before that, though, every senior student receives a ribbon with the schools name and the years they attended the school printed on it. This year, these ribbons were covered in cellophane, apparently on purpose.
Unfortunately (quite a bit unfortunate) my class isn't graduating yet, since we're a five-year class, so I didn't get to dance. However, I did get to MC! That's right. I was one of the MCs. Yay! Wow! Although here we call them the conférerncier and the conférencière. Except they don't know how to spell that. So they simply write "konferanszié". I know.
See, being the Master of Ceremonies was quite important for me. I didn't get to graduate with my former class last year and I won't get to graduate with my current class next year. Although I wanted to, I didn't get to dance this year. When our tutor told us that an MC was needed, my hand shot up like a space rocket, and from then on, it was all about being the one who gets selected, which included going to various German competitions to win over our German-teaching vice-principal. Yeah, I mean a fair share of nepotism was also included, but we don't really talk about that...this is show biz after all, innit?
So when I was there, I got to know the other MC (who, in the words of the drama teacher, looks good at least) and was told to work on the "screenplay". Now, that was hell. I got to write our lines, but it made me question my choice of career several times (I want to be a screenwriter, but you already knew that). Especially since they kept changing everything ten times a day, and I think the final version was called GRAD BALL 23.0. But hey, at least I didn't have to say those painfully cringeworthy pre-written lines out loud.
Anyway, after some disastrous rehearsals, including a 4 hour one yesterday morning, we were there. At 6 PM. In front of the microphone. Talking in front of hundreds of people. And I was reminded of why I used to want to be an actor. And I loved it. (Until I almost cried during the waltz. But I didn't so that doesn't count. Oh, and until my bracelet got stuck in my lace dress and tore it. That wasn't one of the best moments of my life.)
I don't have any photos yet, but I will and then I'll update! Promise!
