. . . and someone said "No, THAT'S Clark Gable"

Daisy is playing Clue. By herself.

She keeps winning. She's very good at this game.

Daisy is settled in for another boring bit of office hours, this time reading Tom Stoppard.

She could be found by anyone who needed her, giggling cheerfully over the two critics getting sucked into the play in The Real Inspector Hound.

Daisy was looking over her notes from Tuesday's class and grading the students' monologues.

The fact that her notes all said things like "ooo, bad t-shirt. Learn what fits" and not, say, "good vocal quality" should totally not be taken as meaning that she doesn't know what she's doing.

[ooc: will be afk from about 1 pm - 2 pm EST due to training at work, but otherwise, open!]

Daisy was back from her long weekend on the mainland, cheerful after getting a chance to shop and reap and completely missing any homecoming shenanegans.

Of course, that also meant this was her first chance to see her redecorated office.

Whoever had done it had rather tacky taste . . . but she couldn't fault them on the wisdom of the fake Oscar with her name on it.

That now had a prominent position on her desk.

The office was open.

Daisy leaned back in her deskchair, a pencil tucked artistically behind her hear and another flipping about between her fingers as she looked over a notebook.

It was a list of names, apparently for a theatrical troupe. At least half of them had Daisy's in them.

She was probably pretty interruptable.

Her office was still pleasantly gremlin-free. Daisy lounged, as she always did, in her chair, reading a delightfully raunchy and inappropriate regency romance novel, and wondering if she should just jump one of her fellow faculty already.

Really, it had been far too long since she'd had a bit of "romance".

[ooc: open to whomever might need to stop by and talking to the drama queen teacher]

Daisy opened up her office and headed directly for the book case to choose what work she would peruse while lounging in a picturesque manner and waiting to see if any students ever showed up.

These office hours really were quite relaxing.

She pulled out a good-sized volume of contemporary American short plays, only to have something come springing out from behind the book at her.

"GRAVELING!"

It was a most unladylike scream. As was the prat fall that landed her, well, on her prat, wrinkling her loose cotton blouse and causing her to lose one of the heels on her boots.

She actually didn't notice this, as she clutched her plays to her chest, heart pounding, and then got a closer look at the "graveling".

Didn't look anything like one, really.

It had ears, for one thing.

And no legs. Just a spring.

"Whoever did this will pay dearly. You hear me? A plague on both your houses!"

And there was the fist shaking at the sky.

Fun times. Really.

[ooc: her office is open to anyone needing info on classes, or just responding to the melodramatic shrieking.]

Daisy was most certainly not asleep in her arm chair with a copy of Cosmo on her face. For one thing, sleeping in her chair during her office hours would totally throw off her beauty routine and she might end up with crows feet. For another, she didn't read Cosmo, so there was really no way that it could have gotten on her face without outside intervention.

The door was closed but knockable.

Daisy, Daisy Adair.

( Just keep cutting, cutting, cutting, )

That's about it for Daisy.

Massive, massive, massive apologies for the lack of a final class for Screen Acting. Work was much busier and more insane than I had anticipated, and as such, I wasn't able to get the post up on time. Thanks to everyone in the class for giving me a good time with it, and I hope the class this fall will be just as good, if not better.