<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101135700098021763</id><updated>2011-04-21T17:16:45.640-07:00</updated><category term='Grease'/><category term='Al'/><title type='text'>All Greased Up!</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Isabel Pastrana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15727835225008368326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>14</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101135700098021763.post-620603438956425630</id><published>2007-03-20T21:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-03-20T21:38:18.571-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whether the weather....</title><content type='html'>It has been far too long since my last blog. Let me clue you in.&lt;br /&gt;  The show has been amazing. My fellow Greasers and I have enjoyed this incredible run, but... I can only speak for myself. Someone recently told me that, no matter what age you are... at some point in musical theatre, you WILL do Grease. Can they actually say that this experience is the same as the others? Fuck no! Perhaps it is one of those, "been there, done that", musicals but have you ever done it like this? I do not think that it will ever be done quite like this again.&lt;br /&gt;   On that note, when did it become acceptable that all theatre productions should mirror the previous ones? I mean sure, you can play it safe and do Grease just as it has been done &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;EVERY TIME&lt;/span&gt; before. How fucking boring! I mean does no one know any of us by now? Do we NOT prove to you that real talent has balls and guts????&lt;br /&gt;    Our Grease is probably the most interesting piece of theatre that I have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;actually&lt;/span&gt; had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;privilege&lt;/span&gt; of being apart of. Scott Miller took us all under his wing and led us to create a timeless &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;piece&lt;/span&gt; of theatre that is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt; completely misunderstood in this time.&lt;br /&gt;    My biggest question is not whether or not you were pleased by our performance, but more so if you think we actually gave a shit. Listen, if you want "poppy" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;everyday&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;predictable&lt;/span&gt; story lines, then by all means........ STAY HOME AND WATCH THE MOVIE!!!! But if you want intrigue and creativity, then come &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;watch&lt;/span&gt; us do what we do best. (And by the way, if you cannot tell the grammatical difference between whether and weather or then and than, well thats not my fucking problem)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whether the weather is cold....&lt;br /&gt;Whether the weather is hot....&lt;br /&gt;We'll do this production....&lt;br /&gt;Whatever the weather....&lt;br /&gt;Whether you like us or not!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101135700098021763-620603438956425630?l=isabelpastrana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/feeds/620603438956425630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101135700098021763&amp;postID=620603438956425630' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/620603438956425630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/620603438956425630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/2007/03/whether-weather.html' title='Whether the weather....'/><author><name>Isabel Pastrana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15727835225008368326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101135700098021763.post-2885998783800277290</id><published>2007-03-02T09:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-02T09:37:23.549-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Opening Night!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;   Well last night was our first run with an audience (officially not opening night til tonight though). Everything went &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt; well! The audience was not as responsive as I would have hoped, but afterward, they seemed to embrace the show completely. Everything went off without a hitch, even though I knew that everyone was a bit antsy. I don't think we were nervous about how we would perform, but more so for how the audience would react to our performances. So far so good! Oh, and we beat the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;presale&lt;/span&gt; mark by almost double, breaking new lines original record of 210 tickets sold before opening (for Chicago) with a brand new record of 405!!! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;   I can't believe how much I have totally enjoyed this show. At dinner last night, Scott Miller and I were talking about how sometimes, after you stage a show that has movie version attached to it, you just don't appreciate the movie version as much anymore. I LOVED the movie Grease growing up but now, I love THIS Grease &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt; much better. I am so happy to have been apart of this production. I have learned so much and this cast rocks. I am truly gonna enjoy the next eleven runs of this show. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;P.S. I totally stopped by Jack in the Box on the way home last night and got some curly fries that I shared with my dog!! Ha Ha! Maybe I should have eaten something small at Tucker's oops!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Toodles&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Isabel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101135700098021763-2885998783800277290?l=isabelpastrana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/feeds/2885998783800277290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101135700098021763&amp;postID=2885998783800277290' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/2885998783800277290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/2885998783800277290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/2007/03/opening-night.html' title='Opening Night!!!'/><author><name>Isabel Pastrana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15727835225008368326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101135700098021763.post-2981326698036391009</id><published>2007-02-27T12:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-27T12:18:04.659-08:00</updated><title type='text'>ZZZZZZ....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;   Well it is now &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;about&lt;/span&gt; 2:11 pm on Tuesday afternoon and I am officially exhausted. I even had TWO cups of coffee this morning (I hardly ever drink caffeine) and rambled on and on from about 7 am to about 10:30 when I finally started to come down from my caffeine high and then began to get depressed that I was no longer giddy like a school girl. Oh, and I have a headache. So &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; my little bitch fest. Now on to more important things. Last night we staged the show with all the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;fixin's&lt;/span&gt;. It was somewhat intimidating through the beginning of Act I but by Act II, I started getting used to the costumes. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;   Man oh man! Scott wasn't kidding when he said we should feel &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;exhausted&lt;/span&gt; at the end of each run! Running back and forth backstage, zipping &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;through costume changes and&lt;/span&gt;  dancing for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;enjoyment&lt;/span&gt; of our audience sure takes its toll! I had an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;absolute&lt;/span&gt; blast though. I hope tonight feels even more &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;comfortable&lt;/span&gt; although I will be missing my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Doody&lt;/span&gt; very much. What am I gonna do without you? I guess I will just have to talk to myself a lot.... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt; back to my day job I go!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Toodles&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Isabel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101135700098021763-2981326698036391009?l=isabelpastrana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/feeds/2981326698036391009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101135700098021763&amp;postID=2981326698036391009' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/2981326698036391009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/2981326698036391009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/2007/02/zzzzzz.html' title='ZZZZZZ....'/><author><name>Isabel Pastrana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15727835225008368326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101135700098021763.post-5478348606532746409</id><published>2007-02-25T18:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-25T18:51:14.479-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Less than a week!!! I'm All Choked Up!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;On Friday my stress level was slightly high. I still hadn't found four of my costumes and I had absolutely no idea what I was going to do with my hair! I was really freaking out about how much time  we have left before we open. In less than one week, we will finally get to share our little show with all of you. I sorta feel like we are letting you come into our little dysfunctional family home, and allowing you to share a couple of days with us. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;    Every time I step into the ArtLoft, I see another part of our show coming together. I think its my favorite part of this whole process. I love watching everything behind the scenes. I feel sorta special to be there watching the last touches of paint getting added to the set,  the costume racks being set up upstairs, the lights being cued for every scene and the band come together to work on the music. Oh and its sooo much fun to find new little props  for us to use! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;   Its amazing to me how much all of these things add to my character. I know that if all else fails, I will be transformed completely into Frenchy on Thursday night. I picture myself sitting at my dressing table after applying the last touches of hair and make-up, taking a deep breath and getting ready to get on stage as French. Its so exciting I could cry!! So, I did find my costumes (and adore them) and I think the only thing that I have right now, are exciting and nervous feelings. As I work on getting that right formula that is Frenchy, I get chills. I am so close to becoming her that she feels so much apart of me now. Scott Miller, you were right. I AM Frenchy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;xxoxx&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;Isabel&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101135700098021763-5478348606532746409?l=isabelpastrana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/feeds/5478348606532746409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101135700098021763&amp;postID=5478348606532746409' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/5478348606532746409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/5478348606532746409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/2007/02/less-than-week-im-all-choked-up.html' title='Less than a week!!! I&apos;m All Choked Up!!'/><author><name>Isabel Pastrana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15727835225008368326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101135700098021763.post-8998480596030863208</id><published>2007-02-16T18:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-16T18:44:54.318-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fact... or Friction?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt; There I was, driving down the lonely two lane road. The rain was poring down and you could here the crackle of thunder off in the distance. It was too much for me to be driving at night by myself in my Grandpa's Chevy, but I had my secret lover &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Klyne&lt;/span&gt; with me. Neither one of us was prepared for what was to happen next.&lt;br /&gt;   Out of the blue and faster than the speed of light, a black car with red trim came flying by from our left! It must have been going at least 120 mph! It hit a slope and flew through the air for what seemed like eternity. When I finally focused my vision I realized it was Grease Lightning! From the passenger window we could barely make out &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Rizzo&lt;/span&gt; holding a bottle of beer and cackling an evil laugh. The realization came too late. We collided with each other as if we were polar opposites attracted by a magnetic force we could not deny. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Klyne&lt;/span&gt; shouted, "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Frenchy&lt;/span&gt;! Stop! Its... its Grease Lighting!" My small Chevy had entered the losing side of an epic battle.&lt;br /&gt;The two cars smashed into each other! We flew in one direction and Grease Lighting skidded to a stop after doing four 360 turns. When I finally looked up from the steering wheel, I saw Roger emerge from the drivers side &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;hootin&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;hollerin&lt;/span&gt;. I slowly got out of the crushed can that used to be my family car and looked at Roger. He said, "Holy shit French did you see that! Rock N' Roll!" That's how the events of that fateful night went down. Don't ever let anyone tell you different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;French&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101135700098021763-8998480596030863208?l=isabelpastrana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/feeds/8998480596030863208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101135700098021763&amp;postID=8998480596030863208' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/8998480596030863208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/8998480596030863208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/2007/02/fact-or-friction.html' title='Fact... or Friction?'/><author><name>Isabel Pastrana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15727835225008368326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101135700098021763.post-4756249125093983029</id><published>2007-02-13T08:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-13T08:17:00.360-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh costume day, oh costume day...</title><content type='html'>This past Saturday I got home at about 9am after a night of debauchery with my friends. I knew I had to take a nap because I had a 1:30 costume appointment with Russ at his shop. I ran home, took a shower and napped until about noon. At about 1:20 I arrived at Russ' amazing costume shop. There were literally hundreds and hundreds of costumes from different time periods all around me! I could transform myself into a fifties "teenage doll" or a sixties "Bond girl" with every different costume I found.&lt;br /&gt;   Upon arrival, I bumped into Jeff Wright and Kine Brown. Kine had just finished finding all of her costumes and from her expression, I knew that it had not been an easy task. The Pink Ladies have seven separate costume changes!!! That's right seven, in a two hour show! We are going to have to pull some miracles backstage.&lt;br /&gt;   In the shop Russ was running back and forth trying to accommodate for all the people who he had to dress. Katie Nestor and I arrived at about the same time and we soon realized the daunting task of dressing this fantastic show. I myself, wanted to try on just about every costume that could possibly fit me. Is it wrong would you say , that I am 25 years old and still love to play dress up?&lt;br /&gt;  My first goal was to find an awesome prom dress. The first two I tried on were to die for but unfortunately, I was a little too top heavy for them. The third one, was a perfect fit. A simple tea length skirt on a sleeveless black dress. I pictued myself turning and twirling all over the stage. After Russ helped me locate long balck gloves and  black patent leather stiletto pumps for it, I knew it was the perfect outfit. The dress moved with me and I could move with it. Add some fake eyelashes and a bouffant hairstyle and I am going to be a fifties prom princess. EVERY guys gonna wanna take to me into the backseat of his daddy's car baby!&lt;br /&gt;    For the next hour, I would search relentlessly for the right "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Frenchy&lt;/span&gt;" outfits. I found a pink dress and sweater set which was so cute and fun, and also a green skirt, white blouse and peach sweater that just screams &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Frenchy&lt;/span&gt;. We ran out of time before I could find my other three costumes (excluding the nightie for the pajama party) but I can't wait to see what Russ and I come up with the next time we meet! In all, I must have tried on about sixty outfits and as soon as I get a breast reduction... I'm wearing them all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101135700098021763-4756249125093983029?l=isabelpastrana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/feeds/4756249125093983029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101135700098021763&amp;postID=4756249125093983029' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/4756249125093983029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/4756249125093983029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/2007/02/oh-costume-day-oh-costume-day.html' title='Oh costume day, oh costume day...'/><author><name>Isabel Pastrana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15727835225008368326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101135700098021763.post-7361702483356565850</id><published>2007-02-02T16:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T16:30:50.501-08:00</updated><title type='text'>How I got my nickname, Frenchy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt; Doody may not remember the first time we really met, but I do. It was during the summer of 1947. My mother and I had just moved back to the city a few years earlier. We had planned to go to the park with Marty and her mom. While our mom's were talking and Marty was off flirting with the older boys, I saw him. I had just come down the slide and he was standing at the edge of the sandbox. He looked so timid and nervous, but I new when I saw him he was the only boy for me. Seeing as how I have never really been a really shy person (and given the fact that I was only almost seven) I did the only thing I knew how. I walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned to look at me, I kissed him. I stuck my tongue into is mouth like I had seen in all the movies. It was just like a dream! My mother screamed, everybody laughed and Doody ran away. My mother said, "Come on Frenchy, let's go home." and it stuck. I wonder if Doody remembers???&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101135700098021763-7361702483356565850?l=isabelpastrana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/feeds/7361702483356565850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101135700098021763&amp;postID=7361702483356565850' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/7361702483356565850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/7361702483356565850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/2007/02/how-i-got-my-nickname-frenchy.html' title='How I got my nickname, Frenchy'/><author><name>Isabel Pastrana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15727835225008368326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101135700098021763.post-2238754778784304454</id><published>2007-02-02T15:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T16:34:09.471-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Al'/><title type='text'>Frenchy's Backstory (Here it is!! Finally!)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;   I was born Francesca Alicia Facciano to Maria Facciano and Alberto Pagan. My grandfather, Fabio Facciano immigrated to Chicago in 1911 leaving is young wife Marissa, my grandmother in Basilicata, Italy their native land. After establishing himself as a hardworking member of the ACWA, (Amalgamated Clothing Workers of America) he sent for my grandmother and their son my uncle Antonio. Life for my grandparents was very good. They were able to establish themselves in a suburb just out of Chicago's east side, near Gary Indiana. My grandfather worked as a manager in a fabric factory.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;My mother, Maria, was born on October 5&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;1920. My family lived modestly until the great depression of 1930.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;   When the depression occurred, my grandparents were forced to move into the east city limits and lost nearly everything. My mother and grandmother began working alongside my grandfather and Uncle in the garment sweatshops of east Chicago. It was a hard life. My mother would leave work early to do the housekeeping and cooking before the rest of her family would return home. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;In the summer of 1940, my mother Maria met a young Mexican stock boy at a small grocery store located near her home in the Mexican neighborhood. She was trying to catch a train home and tripped outside the store dropping all her bags. Alberto (as he would later tell her was his name) helped her up and helped her home. They became secret lovers and she became pregnant 2 months later. On August 23, 1940 I was born. My gran parents forbid my mother to see my father again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;   My mother and I lived for the first four years of my life in Fort Wayne Indiana, with some close friends of my grandparents. They wanted to keep my mother as far away from the city until they could assimilate her into our community saying my father was an Italian who died in the war. The only thing I ever received from my father, was my middle name Alicia, the name of his mother. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;   At the age of four I would return to Chicago's east side and live with my grandparents and mother who never married. My uncle died before I was born after joining a mafia family. My grandparents raised me in a modest yet somewhat run down two story house. We had one car. I started school with Rizzo, Marty, and Danny and I would later meet Jan in 5th grade and Doody and Kenickie shortly after. But from the age of about thirteen, you could say we've been rather inseparable. Only no one knows about my Mexican background, they hardly even know my real name since they started calling me Frenchy from the first day they met me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101135700098021763-2238754778784304454?l=isabelpastrana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/feeds/2238754778784304454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101135700098021763&amp;postID=2238754778784304454' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/2238754778784304454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/2238754778784304454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/2007/02/frenchys-backstory-here-it-is-finally.html' title='Frenchy&apos;s Backstory (Here it is!! Finally!)'/><author><name>Isabel Pastrana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15727835225008368326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101135700098021763.post-5776319131793575054</id><published>2007-02-02T07:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T07:42:04.621-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Grease'/><title type='text'>Happy Ground Hog's Day!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;OK fellow bloggers look out! This girl has finally learned how to manage hr blog space! On this charming and witty yet rather insightful page, you will fin links to my fellow Grease bloggers. I was also able to attach a picture of myself so that you can put a face to the blog. OK but truthfully, it doesn't take much intelligence to actually update and add things to your blog. Maybe I;m just lazy... or perhaps a raging alcoholic that passes out every time before she blogs. Lets just go with the lazy part. Hee hee! I'm looking forward to choreographing "All Choked Up" this weekend and I had a blast at our late Applebee's dinner last night. This cast rules and I will definitely be sad to see this experience and. Who's up for going out this weekend??&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101135700098021763-5776319131793575054?l=isabelpastrana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/feeds/5776319131793575054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101135700098021763&amp;postID=5776319131793575054' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/5776319131793575054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/5776319131793575054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/2007/02/happy-ground-hogs-day.html' title='Happy Ground Hog&apos;s Day!'/><author><name>Isabel Pastrana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15727835225008368326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101135700098021763.post-6864973286203247244</id><published>2007-02-02T06:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-02-02T07:04:01.444-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Off Book!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt;, so yesterday, we reran Act I. I thought I did pretty well with my lines. Actually &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; a bunch a crap &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;cause&lt;/span&gt; I was ready to nail them all and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;ummm&lt;/span&gt;... well that didn't happen. Even so, the act ran pretty smoothly. We have one more dance to learn and then the show is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;completely&lt;/span&gt; blocked. Wow. I cant &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;believe&lt;/span&gt; it!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663366;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;      We move into the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;art loft&lt;/span&gt; on Monday. Then we have three weeks of runs in the actual space. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;That's&lt;/span&gt; really exciting because we can clean up the show and tweak it to just where we want it to be. Its not pretty far off and I am sure its gonna be amazing. When I first became &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;involved&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;with&lt;/span&gt; the show, I really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;didn't&lt;/span&gt; know what to expect. I mean lets face it, New Line doing Grease???? But actually this is the most &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;interesting&lt;/span&gt; version of the show that I have ever done and the more we rehearse, the more excited I am to show off our hard work. This musical is going to be raw, funny and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;original&lt;/span&gt; just like it was back in the good old days!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101135700098021763-6864973286203247244?l=isabelpastrana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/feeds/6864973286203247244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101135700098021763&amp;postID=6864973286203247244' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/6864973286203247244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/6864973286203247244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/2007/02/off-book.html' title='Off Book!'/><author><name>Isabel Pastrana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15727835225008368326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101135700098021763.post-5525770504739271132</id><published>2007-01-31T05:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-31T05:35:02.957-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dancin Fever!</title><content type='html'>So, now we have almost the entire show &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;choreographed&lt;/span&gt; minus "All Choked Up". Scott and I are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt; excited about our dance freestyle parts! We get tapped out second to last so we are gonna have to think of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;somethin&lt;/span&gt; pretty nifty that keeps us in the contest for TEN EIGHT COUNTS! They go by pretty fast though. I have given myself a mad shin splint on my left shin. Its feeling much better &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;today&lt;/span&gt; but oddly enough, it only gets really bad whenever we work on the stroll. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Hmmmm&lt;/span&gt;..... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;hoping that&lt;/span&gt; it has decided to go away. Yesterday we ran act II. I did &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt; on knowing my lines. Tonight I will have to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;re look&lt;/span&gt; at act one for tomorrow. Hey Greasers!!! Lets play tomorrow night after rehearsal!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Toodles&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;French&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101135700098021763-5525770504739271132?l=isabelpastrana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/feeds/5525770504739271132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101135700098021763&amp;postID=5525770504739271132' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/5525770504739271132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/5525770504739271132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/2007/01/dancin-fever.html' title='Dancin Fever!'/><author><name>Isabel Pastrana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15727835225008368326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101135700098021763.post-2972132324542507516</id><published>2007-01-28T17:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-28T17:47:31.591-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dont go to dance rehearsal hungover....</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; so yesterday was my friend Mark's 30&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; birthday and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;wouldn't&lt;/span&gt; ya know, I stayed out a little later than usual and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;ummm&lt;/span&gt;... tried to learn  how to swing dance today &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;completely&lt;/span&gt; hungover. Needless to say, Scott and I totally rock. The dancing is so much fun! Also, very tiresome. My whole body hurt today. On Friday, Kine, Erin, Katie and I all went to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Broadway&lt;/span&gt; Oyster Bar. It was tons of fun and we really got to do some bonding. I just heart bonding! (Oysters aren't so bad either) The prom scene is totally gonna rock and I know that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Frenchy&lt;/span&gt; really loves to dance especially &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;cause&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Doody&lt;/span&gt; totally gropes her and its awesome! Tomorrow we have more prom scene dancing to do and I am anticipated being quite sore. But hey, its Grease! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;       I am still thinking a lot about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Frenchy's&lt;/span&gt; back story. I think I have to change her last name and I am going to do some research on a good one for her. I totally love her first name, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Francesca&lt;/span&gt;. I think its very fitting. So I plan to finish her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;back story&lt;/span&gt; tonight and post it either tomorrow or Tuesday. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Toodles&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101135700098021763-2972132324542507516?l=isabelpastrana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/feeds/2972132324542507516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101135700098021763&amp;postID=2972132324542507516' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/2972132324542507516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/2972132324542507516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/2007/01/dont-go-to-dance-rehearsal-hungover.html' title='Dont go to dance rehearsal hungover....'/><author><name>Isabel Pastrana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15727835225008368326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101135700098021763.post-7036671615755081859</id><published>2007-01-24T17:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-24T17:56:11.320-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Passwords Suck</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; people so I am so sorry for not having posted a blog until now but because of the fact that I have about a trillion passwords... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;ummm&lt;/span&gt;.. lets just say I sorta forgot this one. Yikes! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Anyhoo&lt;/span&gt;.. its all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;under control&lt;/span&gt; now. Rehearsals are going so well. The first dance rehearsal was somewhat tiresome but the dance is so much fun that all I have to do is sing my heart out through it and everything will turn out great. The last dance rehearsal we had was Monday night. We choreographed "Freddy My Love" and "Beauty School Dropout". Freddy my love is so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;frickin&lt;/span&gt; cute now I just have to tone it down so it doesn't looked to rehearsed. Wow! I never realized how much abuse &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Frenchy&lt;/span&gt; takes from her teen angel! I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; know if he was quite what she was expecting but I guess the truth hurts. The number is so much fun though&lt;br /&gt;     I feel the love between and bonding in the show starting to take place. The girls are all going out for the oysters tomorrow night. (Sorry &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;boyz&lt;/span&gt;! We love you but we gotta do some female bonding) Its gonna be a good time.&lt;br /&gt;     Already the language of the show is starting to change for me. Now, I just have to figure out how to play French cute, but sassy and real. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; totally up for the challenge! Oh and I am planning to be off book by the end of this weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101135700098021763-7036671615755081859?l=isabelpastrana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/feeds/7036671615755081859/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101135700098021763&amp;postID=7036671615755081859' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/7036671615755081859'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/7036671615755081859'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/2007/01/passwords-suck.html' title='Passwords Suck'/><author><name>Isabel Pastrana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15727835225008368326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7101135700098021763.post-8789473895557016300</id><published>2007-01-13T13:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-01-13T13:37:01.071-08:00</updated><title type='text'>First Grease Week</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt; so we just finished our first week of Grease rehearsals. I think it went pretty damn well! I can't believe that we will begin blocking this next week! Tomorrow we begin the choreography and I am super excited about this! I love to dance!&lt;br /&gt;     I am such a huge fan of Freddy My Love. The back up trio (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;that's&lt;/span&gt; me, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Lainie&lt;/span&gt; and Katie) sounds fantastic. I think when the audience sees the four of us working this song... they're gonna totally understand why we're the pink ladies!&lt;br /&gt;     Nothing like being a slut and a sweetie at the same time huh? I just finished watching Tammy and the Bachelor last night. (Awesome movie! Scott, I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;don't&lt;/span&gt; know if you'll be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;gettin&lt;/span&gt; it back for a while ;) Tammy seems to be the kind of girl that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Frenchy&lt;/span&gt; sees herself as. She IS &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Frenchy&lt;/span&gt;. But hey we all know that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Frenchy&lt;/span&gt; has a little bit of bad girl inside! After all, she is a pink lady. So, how do I transform myself into a  little sweet devil? Guess we'll just have to see... I know its in there somewhere!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" onclick="BLOG_clickHandler(this)"&gt;Toodles&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7101135700098021763-8789473895557016300?l=isabelpastrana.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/feeds/8789473895557016300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7101135700098021763&amp;postID=8789473895557016300' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/8789473895557016300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7101135700098021763/posts/default/8789473895557016300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://isabelpastrana.blogspot.com/2007/01/first-grease-week.html' title='First Grease Week'/><author><name>Isabel Pastrana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15727835225008368326</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
