Public by Gypsy P.
Today I was once again struck by how very ridiculous the stage can be. I'm not used to actually singing in dresses showing ninety percent of my breasts. Costume designers should remember that we're going to end up topless unless they do their job right. The public would love that, but the few kiddies might get traumatized. That is if they weren't already by the Phantom. In sleep he sang to me, in dreams he came - to come and stalk me, all of the way...
Signs I'm getting ridiculous: even Meg is laughing. Whose bright idea was it to send journals? This is usually meant to be a private event. And what's with Passages actually being something other then the crappy shack for dares?