Bio grin and poetry yay!

Just finished a biology test. If I didn't ace it, I at least came close.

On an even more positive note: It may freak out the people around me, but being able to tap into my "creepy as hell" side apparently has its merits. Today the finals of the creative writing contest at school were held, and my nightmare poem won first place in the poetry category! Woohoo!

Thought for the day

He who does not laugh when others laugh may well laugh at the laughers.

But then he who does not laugh when others laugh does laugh when others laugh.

I have confused myself. I'm going away now.

Spring play: Victory!

Drama advisory board met today, and we finally convinced Peter T to do a full-length comedy instead of more one-acts. There are quite a few possible plays on the list. Hopefully the one we do will accommodate gender bending, because the current drama department contains two, possibly three male actors, including myself.

Ultimate Frisbee was very muddy today. I don't know if I suffered the most falls, but mine were definitely the most dramatic.

Movies, heath, and waffling

Parents and I went out to see Stranger Than Fiction today. It was all right, but I'd just as soon have stayed home and done something else.

Rainy today. I sneezed a few times on the drive to the theater, but I don't have the raw throat feeling that tells me I'm sick, so it was probably just an irritation.

Today feels like a vacation more than any day yet. Figures that today has to be the last day of vacation. I was going to slave on the math paper stack today, but the due date got extended, so you know what? Forget that. Work on a few maybe, but I'm going to spend today relaxing!

Venetian gathering

I and several Venetians met yesterday and had a grand old time. Fireball came back from Tennessee to see us. Squeak, Everything, and Penguin also showed up early on. We talked for a while, and then began walking down the street until Ridiculously Cute arrived. We then headed back to my house and stuffed our faces for a while. Mm...grape leaves. After that we went to a nearby kiddie park and had a rather surprising amount of fun there. Next we went to see Casino Royale, where we met Strident and Omniscient. Most if not all of us enjoyed the movie quite a bit. Finally we headed to a nearby restaurant, met Presence and a friend of one of the Venetians whose name I did not pick up, and talked some more until the gathering broke up. Got home around midnight...*yawn*

Idea for SNL sketch

All the great lines of cinema ("Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn," "I'll make him an offer he can't refuse," "Do ya feel lucky, punk?" etc), as read by Jimmy Stewart.

Well, it got some laughs at the dinner table.

American Culture

Today I saw "It's a Wonderful Life" for the first time. (Yes, it's a Christmas movie and this is Thanksgiving, but who cares?) Immediately afterwards I watched the Saturday Night Live sketch with Dana Carvey as Jimmy Stewart wherein Mr. Potter gets mobbed and pummeled at the end. Yes, we Americans have no reverence for anything.

I'm all right!

I have heard that the poems I've been putting up here have scared some people who know me. This, in turn, scares me, as these people know me quite well and I thought that I projected myself as a rather lighthearted guy. So I will take this opportunity to say that I am completely fine. I do not support or plan to imitate the contents of my poems, and I promise that the next poem I put up here will be lighthearted, silly, or both, and will not involve any deaths. I have not undergone any serious mental changes that I am aware of or that friends have pointed out to me. I am not a closet sadist, psychopath, or anything like that. I am, and will remain, Peter the Disconcerting (in a good way, or so I am told).

P.S. I draw the line at poems about bunnies and butterflies.

007

Saw "Casino Royale" today. I liked it. After that I decided to rent a couple of other Bond movies I haven't seen, deciding on "You Only Live Twice" and "The Man With The Golden Gun." Going to the theater, lunchnig afterward, going home, getting wallet, going to Blockbuster, and coming back took up most of the day, so that's all I have to write about for now.

New poem

Kudos to Impulse for feedback and advice.

The fire waits as I think back
On all the wrongs I've done,
But when I die the horror will
Have only just begun.

The fire wakes, my bonds are fast,
And now the pain begins
Although I have yet to commit
The foulest of my sins.

The fire climbs; my legs have gone.
My screaming cuts the air
Half in my pain, and half in threat.
I know they do not care.

The fire takes, and darkness looms.
They cheer to see me die.
They do not know I'll rise again;
Much less do they know why.

The fire fades, but certain deals
Unnaturally made
Will never so: for unlife my
Immortal soul I trade.

The fire dies. To ash I fall.
My mortal shell is spent..
I've proven my refusal to
Surrender or repent.

The fire sleeps, but ashes stir
As I rise from my grave
Prepared to kill a world no
Amount of prayer can save.

The fire hides, its victim dead.
Soon both come back for more.
My touch upon the mind will drive
The human race to war.

The fire bursts in bombs and shots
As armies clash with hate.
My spectral guidance slowly leads
The world to its fate.

The fire lives, not just in flames,
But in the beating hearts
Of those whom I infect with rage
To tear the world apart.

Freedom!

I am currently enjoying the first few minutes of Thanksgiving vacation. Today I shared poetry with a sleeping woodpecker and later with Impulse (thanks for the input btw), watched part of The Life of Brian in drama class, got more positive feedback about the IWP (from a member of the Conservative Club, which is a very good sign), and learned that I can apparently "scream like a dead Mario." It was briefly debated whether it was Mario or Yoshi, but I made it pretty clear that I cannot do good Yoshi impressions. For some reason the line from The Phantom of the Opera "Abandon thought and let the dream descend" has stuck with me all day. I'll probably post the poem later today, but right now I need to get some eats.

Iraq War Project

We rehearsed. We performed. We did not bomb! My grades (yes, grades, I am getting two for this) are saved!

I'm guessing my Cheney impression (lifted directly from Jon Stewart) didn't go over too well with the conservative club, but I don't care. Also, at one point the script called for me to slowly reach out to strangle a member of the audience. That sophomore later told me, "That was creepy as hell!" That marks the second time I have been called creepy in a good, acting-related way. For those of you keeping score at home, I was called creepy again about ten minutes later by a different person in a different situation. also, my dad just now said that he could believe that I did an effective creepy. Hm...bad sign? Nah.

The others all did well too. In particular I got positive feedback about one cast member's ease of using her arms to further her character.

Of course, this being the IWP, we had still more script and blocking changes, even 10 minutes before the performance began.

One of the better lines: "Look, Dick, I know you've been itching to be the President for al ong time, but guess what? There's only one big kahuna here! Only one guy who gets to tell Air Force One where to go! Only one guy who gets to push the big red button! Only one guy who gets to massage the German chancellor's shoulders!"

That's all for now.

Another poem

Well, here I am, at school, at the beginning of the last of three unexpected free periods, with no homework that can be done here. So what do I do? I decide to post the poem I wrote during my other two free periods. Kudos to Zoe (not Squeak, other Zoe) for helping me work out the thievery lines. I also apologize in advance for screwy syntax.

I write this locked inside a cell
For I was shut away as mad.
But is that which we all condemn
To hell in truth so bad?

Sir Charles Darwin theorized
That natural selection will
Produce a stronger breed. Why not
One well prepared to kill?

I write this locked inside a cell....

Though hate emboldens, drives to deed,
We all denounce such deeds as crimes.
But hate, above all else, endures
Throughout the changing times.

I write this locked inside a cell....

We take, we rob, all to obtain
The tools which can improve our lives.
The thief is one who dearly for
Self-preservation strives.

I write this locked inside a cell....

We lock away our murderers
In foolish, vain attempts to stall
That most unstoppable of fates:
The death that comes to all.

I write this locked inside a cell....

Sir Thomas Hobbes described our lives
As nasty, brutish, short, and poor.
What difference makes it whether we
Do not or do make war?

I write this locked inside a cell....

Atop our list of heinous crimes
We place the act of genicode.
I've said before: your death will come.
You'll have no chance to hide.

I write this locked inside a cell....

Those fools extoll the joys of life,
And to their will they make me bend.
But when you've passed I promise you
You will forget it in the end.

I write this locked inside a cell....

The force of evil lets one say,
"Before my fellows must come I."
And in this world where dog eats dog,
To evil turn or die.

I write this locked inside a cell
For I was shut away as mad.
But that which we condemn to hell
Is not, in truth, so bad.

IWP approacheth

Later today we have a 5 1/2-hour cue-to-cue/dress rehearsal for the Iraq War Project and we perform tomorrow. People have lines and blocking solid, but I'm still a bit worried: we haven't practiced transitions between scenes AT ALL, and the play has...*counts on fingers*...9 such transitions in a half-hour period. Nor have we practiced at all with any sort of tech. I'll post about how it went this evening, time permitting.

16 hours left. It's finally coming together, although I would like to mention that the script was changed (albeit in a minor way) yet again.

It's odd. During one of the transitions, I started moving a chair offstage when I wasn't supposed to, although I caught myself pretty quickly. The strange part was that the mistake got to me way more than it should have, and since then I have been in an "I need a hug" state of emotions. It's so annoying that starting to move a chair at an inappropriate time during a dress rehearsal would do that to me, even as I realized then that it shouldn't. Hormones, no doubt.

*sniff*

No more composition class for three weeks. I can't wait that long! Please, Omnipotent, find a way for us to meet!

Some progress

Finally remembered to talk to Peter T today about dropping the string of one-acts. I didn't get a definite answer, but the Drama Advisory Board will meet again soon.

Worked with another student some more on one of the monologues in the Iraq War Project.

Frisbee day today. It is becoming more and more clear that I can block, run, and usually catch, but I cannot throw to save my life. Very embarassing and frustrating.

Huh. Small breakfast and I missed lunch, so why am I not hungry? No matter. I will be later.

Acting

Reading Impulse's comment on my stream of consciousness, I noted that she asked me why I act. I'll try to answer that here.

Why do I act? The quick and easy answer is that I enjoy acting. Well, duh, but what is it about the acting experience that makes me want to pursue it? I haven't taken a very close look at that before. I remember that when I was younger, I was always one of those kids who would play make-believe. After reading a book or watching a movie, I would replay it in my head, or create a mental sequel with myself injected into the story. So it's clear that adopting new roles and identities has always been a passion of mine. But why that? This might link to some thoughts I've had over the last couple of days. I'm afraid that I'll be slipping into a "pity me" mode, but I'll try to avoid that.

While talking with some friends at school about various issueswe do or do not have, I exclaimed, "My life is BORING!" I can see my point. It's not that I spend a majority of my life in a bored state, but looking back, my life story is not a very interesting one. For the most part, it's been good. Just that. Good. I don't wish a bad life upon myself--who does?--but I cannot think of any great conflicts or obstacles, and no story is a good story without such. I have no diseases or mental disorders. I am a white middle-class heterosexual male who goes to a good school, so not much discrimination there. I've suffered no great crippling injuries, not even a bone broken, or had a relative die. No mass ostracism, no family crises. Maybe I act to become a more interesting personality.

Bleah. Let's try to think of something a bit less self-slamming.

Maybe it stems from an enjoyment of variety? A single life could get boring after a while, no matter what events do or do not fill it. Do I act simply to take a break from my normal self? Or perhaps it's a love of fantasy, which I have held for a very long time, and slipping into the skin of others is as close as I can get to fantasy. Hm. That sounds similar to part of what I wrote about my relationship with dreams. Hmmm...

I'll give this more thought, but I need to go. Homework (including the ever-cursed Spanish) must be done.

Rehearsal blues and rant

As long as I'm on this nightmare trend, here's another one: being a stand-in director for the Iraq War Project. A break that was supposed to be about 15 minutes ran to 45, snacks lying around continued to be a distraction, and this is most dangerous for ME out of anyone because I am getting TWO grades for this play! Others denied that, saying "You can't fail this. You're Peter T's favorite/Peter T Junior!" You people don't get it, do you? A substantial chunk of my grade is audience reception! If you go down, I get dragged along for the ride! In addition, some people still don't know their lines six days from performance, although that is not in all cases their fault because (mark this) I am still not sure that the script is yet finalized!!! LESS THAN A WEEK BEFORE PERFORMANCE AND THERE ARE STILL CHANGES BEING MADE TO THE SCRIPT! Arrrrrrgh! This is the LAST time I sign up for a play without a final draft for the script! I have got to talk to the director about this. I'll also take another stab at convincing him to scrap the idea of a(nother) one-act festival for the spring. People are getting sick of the one-acts, and it's really starting to show. Love, Death, and the Prom (collection of one-acts) was not a popular production, and the article in the school paper made clear that this was not the fault of the actors. Not many people auditioned for Trapped (collection of one-acts). Turnout for IWP auditions (see a pattern?) was abysmal, and one guy in my grade who has been a constant member of the drama community said that he wasn't planning to do any more acting at school. But then when asked about Reindeer Soup by the senior directing it, he signed right up. Which brings me to my next thought: Acting under Omnipotent this summer was more enjoyable, acting under the senior directing Reindeer Soup was more enjoyable, and if I remember correctly, acting under the old head of the drama department was more enjoyable. An number of directions that have been given on IWP clash directly with Omnipotent's teachings. While listening to Peter T say, "take a beat, walk over here, and then deliver your line," I hear Omnipotent's voice saying, Act on the lines, not between the lines." Peter T: "After you hear what Dick Cheney has to say, do this: *mugs an incredulous face at the audience*" Omnipotent: "Stop schmacting, people!" You get the idea.

Peter, if you read this, know that I am NOT the only one with these thoughts! And PLEASE! Enough with the one-acts!

Thoughts, nightmares, and dreams

The poem I put up the other day got me to thinking about nightmares: I seem to have a mild fascination with them. When I decided to write a poem, nightmares came to my mind first, and when I thumb throught the latest D&D book, nightmare-related material is one of the things that gets me drooling fastest. Nightmare-related thoughts come to me in other ways too, and with a noticeable (though not alarming) frequency. Is this just me or is it just the nature of the mind to dwell on its stranger, darker creations? I know I've had a wide variety of dreams, ranging from the frightening to the disturbing to the downright strange (such as the one where I was an island-hopping 166-year-old Jean Valjean), but then again, who hasn't? Something else I have noticed is that when I need some ideas for new D&D monsters, I get the most when I'm just about to fall asleep. But enough of that. Back to the nightmare ruminations.

Kinda hard to think about nightmares when Steve Martin is playing the banjo in the other room.

While I'm thinking I'll share my three most memorable dreams.

1. This wasn't a nightmare per se; it was extremely odd rather than scary. I had this dream over the summer, and I have a feeling it was partially inspired by one of Penguin's shirts. It started with a tour of mansions scattered around a sunny suburban neighborhood. From there the dream moved to a pair of guys on a truck driving on the freeway out onto the flats. The flats quickly became an ash-covered wasteland beneath an overcast sky. When I looked back, the men on the truck were now being pursued by a river of blood. The front of the river extended forth stringy tendrils, a bit like hair, but still made of blood, and started pulling itself onto the back of the truck and towards the man in back. It was about this point that he statred going insane from the fear (I was still just an observer). Suddenly the truck stopped and the view pulled back so I could see why. The wasteland and sky were filled with billions and billions of penguins. Think The Birds. One group of flying penguins formed itself into the word, "Sigh." The last thing I saw before I woke up was one penguin lining its beak up with the back of one man's head like a pick.

2. This one I had two or three Decembers ago. It involved drow. For those of you not familiar with D&D, a drow is an evil subterranean elf. The drow were torturing me. The most vivid part of that dream is an image of fire filling my field of vision and a voice saying, "Flesh melting nicely?" Eventually I was sacrificed and resurrected. I then woke up and spent a while lying in bed traumatized.

3. This dream didn't scare me, but in hindsight it was very disturbing. In the dream I had gained great powers of telekinesis. Several dozen to a hundred students from my school came walking over a hill, and I used my telekinesis to kill them all by tossing them about like groups of rag dolls, except for one guy in my grade, whom I strangled for a while and then punched in the gut but did not kill.

I also once had a zombie nightmare after watching Amadeus. I can't possibly explain that.

So why is my mind so ready to jump to nightmares? Am I just sick? Perhaps it is that I am interested in the supernatural (an interest lending itself well to Dungeons and Dragons), and nightmares and other dreams are as close as one can come to that in real life? I and my drama teacher have noticed that some of my top books, movies, and such are on the darker side of their genres.

On a lighter note, I have decided to submit my nightmare poem to the current creative writing contest at school. At best, I win twenty-five dollars and might see my work published in the school literature magazine. At worst...there's that much less paper left in the printer. Okay, at absolute worst I get sent to a counselor, but something tells me that won't happen.

Yawn...time to go to sleep now. Who knows? Maybe I'll have some more creepy dreams to share tomorrow. Good night(mare).

D'oh!

Boy, do I feel stupid. I spent a fair chunk of today and yesterday looking for my King Lear notebook and papers to no avail. Eventually I determined that I had left them either at the class or in the car of Ridiculously Cute, with whom I and Impulse had been carpooling, and gave up, hoping I would be able to get them back by next class. Then, just now, as I was walking to my computer, I spotted them lying in plain sight on the table.

Now for a story to top that: I once spent at least 15 minutes running around semi-frantically in search of my pencil, which I really needed. Wait...what's this I'm holding? *slap*

Beauty and the Beast

I just got back from seeing an amateur performance at a nearby theater. Overall, I'd say it was...fair.

First, I just need to say this: THEY CUT THE BEST LINE IN THE SHOW! "Oh, that is despicable...I love it!" It's such a great line, and there was no reason whatsoever to cut it!

Gaston blew me away. His acting was fine enough, he had the Gaston look and build, and the voice...WOW. I would kill to have a voice like that! Unfortunately, his tether fell off at the end, so instead of falling off the castle he had to scream and duck through the curtain. How embarassing that must have been!

Lefou, Mrs. Potts, and Cogsworth were all quite good. I was a tad disappointed with Lumiere. His performance was perfectly good, but I've been in a couple plays with the guy and I expected a bit more.

Why did they change the last refrain in the "Gaston song?" There was no reason to.

Choreography...ugh. Flipping your hands back and forth during "Be Our Guest" just doesn't cut it. If that's all you've got it'll look better if you just stand still. None of the choreography was particularly enthralling, although to be fair there wasn't much room on the stage.

Overall the singing impressed me more than the acting. He's not the biggest character, but I found Maurice to be exceptionally bland in his delivery.

Nice little illusion to make Chip (Chipsy in this performance, as a girl played the part) look like just a teacup. Angled mirror with box, I believe.

I think a lot of the low points could be put down to poor directing. Can't blame the actors too mch, as I think most of them were inexperienced.

Forever a Nightmare

A poem I threw together just now.

The dreams of the dreamers can do little harm
Unless you never wake up.
To dream through the night has its own little charm
Unless you never wake up.

When dream turns to nightmare you wake with a shout
Unless you cannot wake up.
There's nothing to do but to ride the night out
Unless you cannot wake up.

The nightmares have won and it's time for the end.
And now you cannot wake up.
You're cornered by monsters and corpses of friends
And now you cannot wake up.

They reach out with their claws. "Come join us," they say.
And now you will never wake up.
Your body is gone with the onset of day
And now you will never wake up.

Hope you liked it.

Shakey shakey

I promised I was done, but I thought it worth blogging that I may have just experienced my first earthquake. Went by pretty quickly, but it was hard to miss.

Now I'm done for the night.

Really.

Nothing? Really?

Looking back over what I wrote it seemed like I could use it to make something. I should work with it some more. Here's a go, and then I really need to hit the old bed.

Dark. Wet. Nothing else. I think. I listen. Is it really thinking? Is it too early? Or is it just nothing? Even if I did, what have I to think? I do think. I wonder. I can feel. I feel my skin and the walls around me. I'm being called. I hear voices and screams. I can't ignore it. I'm gone.

I eat. I can do that now. Tangerines. I always liked them. What can I do today? So much done. So much to do. Something happened. I can feel it. I'm bleeding. It's nothing. I always bleed now. I never bled then. All I could do then was think. Still, I can't let the bleeding continue. I'm gone.

Am I staying? Not for long. Soon, nothing. I think about all the things I've done. It was fun while it lasted. Even when I bled it was worth it. I'm wavering. Waiting. It's getting late. I realize there's nothing tomorrow. So much done, and now there's nothing. Ha. I can't ignore it. Nothing left but to give myself up now. I got only so much, but I made do. It will have to do. I'm gone.

Nothing

Writing. Thinking. Listening. Listening to myself and the click of letters. Need a subject. Acting class tomorrow. Not enough. Thinking. Wondering. Feeling the contrast between skin and fingernail. Being called. Gone.

Back. Experiencing the aftertaste of two tart tangerines. Eyes glazing. Shaking back to focus. Still nothing. Considering another stream of consciousness. Distracted. Feeling a trickle down my foot. Looking down. Oh. Bleeding again. Gone.

Back. Making sure paper towel is staying. Thinking. Nothing. Mentally running lines for King Lear. Grinning. Bringing focus back to the keyboard. Hearing the a/c come on. Still thinking. Still nothing. Rubbing forehead. Time. Late. No school tomorrow. Ha. Giving up. Making do with this. Gone.

Fifteen minutes of thought

First, I would like to state for the record that I have to mentally juggle lines for seven different characters in four different plays right now. Moving on.

I want to break the pattern of daily life report, so after lunch today I wrote a 15-minute stream of consciousness. If something seems wrong, odd, or utterly nonsensical, such can be the nature of a stream of consciousness.

The starting point: Apathy

I often wonder if I am too apathetic. Maybe "apathetic" is not quite the right word for it. Howeverso I wonder if I feel too little emotion. I have noticed that I don't laugh as easily as some. When watching something amusing with friends or family, when they laugh out loud I do not. I get the jokes, I can appreciate them, but I do not laugh. Similarly, it is not easy for me to find moments of great emotion in my memories. My drama teacher keeps telling me I need to draw on a moment that does this or that for me: my response is always a shrug accompanied by some variation of, "I'll try." Stakes. That's another thing that comes up in acting a lot. Whether a situation is high-stakes or low. Maybe I just don't see life as a high-stakes situation. Maybe it's just a teenage thing. But then, my other teenage friends show plenty of emotion. One, I believe I've said to his face that he laughs too easily. Then again, easy words from one who may laugh too little. Stakes. Obviously life has some stakes, because I've never seriously contemplated suicide. A bird in the hand s worth two, one, or possibly zero in the bush. There's so much I would miss out on. So I really do care, somewhat. But then why do I not feel emotion as much as those around me? Perhaps I do but am afraid to admit it? That is not a good thing, to deny emotion, especially if you act, because so much of acting is being able to reveal yourself. Reminds me of those intense improv scenes. Over the summer, with the Venetians. I didn't like those either. I mean, I did like them, but I didn't like myself in them. It never felt right. Maybe I just need to let myself go more. But now we come back to the possibility that I simply don't have much to let go. I hope I'm wrong. To be a shell like that would be horrible.

Well, some of what I wrote shows that I do care. Now I need to prove it with my life.

Linky!

Finally got the Links section up and running! There's only one at the moment (Strident's blog), but I expect I'll add more in time.

Mobius blog

About 20 minutes ago, while checking up on my blog I saw a message that an update was ready for my blog page. After taking the tour I decided that I might as well get it. Jumped through a couple of hoops, got the confirmation email, verified my account, signed back in, got a message that an update was ready for my blog page. To what was I just making the switch, you stupid computer?! Tried it again, got the same result. Well, never mind then.

(next morning)

Huh. Seems to have made the jump now.

O frabjous day!

We got the House! We got the Senate! Richard Pombo is gone! Donald Rumsfeld resigned! YAAAAAAAWOOOOOO!!! *dances for hours*

On another positive note, I got the Friday DVD of Reindeer Soup today! Once I have a bit of free time I'm watchin' it!

King Lear memorization for my weekend acting class is also coming along well.

Drama stuff

Drama class is putting on a couple of short plays, "Mystery at Twicknam Vicarage" and "Captive audience." I got cast as my first choice in each (Roger and TV Man, respectively). Yay! Better brush up on my British accent. We also critiqued more of last spring play. However the acting was, I can't say the camerawork was impressive. Half the time the speaker was cut in half (or cut off entirely), and my face spent a considerable amount of time as a glowing white blob with hair.

13 days and 4 rehearsals to go for Iraq War Project. We've got a script for the third (being moved to be the second) act, but it's undergoing more revision. At this point my main concern is lines. Will everybody be off book by the 20th? Some of the more memorable moments from today's rehearsal included Safe (character's name) yelling, "Safe! It's me, Noor!", Powell leaning his chair wayyy back to see the map around Wolfowitz, Peter T telling me I make a good Dick [Cheney], and me pegging my in-character sister on the back of the head with a thrown, rolled-up mat. She has promised to kill me, but the pillow I throw was missing and the mat was the softest thing I could find on short notice. Would she prefer I threw the canned meat?

Changed my mind about the jello.

Various and Sundry Happenings of a Monday Nature

Or of a mundane nature, if you prefer. Monday...mundane? Get it? Ahaha...never mind.

Calculus: Nothing special here.

Biology: JELLO! Yes, people brought jello and pudding to class today for extra credit. I meant ot but forgot. I think the teacher extended the deadline until Wednesday, so I'll make a batch. If not...I get to eat a lot of jello!

Math TA: Need to come up with a Problem of the Day by next Monday dealing with optimization. I think I've already got one.

Iraq War Project Co-Directing: Looking over the monologues people have brought in. Not much of interest.

Lunch: Today was the Second Annual Athenian Post-Halloween Trebuchet Pumpkin Launch! This time we didn't break the trebuchet, even though it was originally built to throw baseballs.

Drama: We watched and critiqued an excerpt of last year's spring play, which I happened to be in. In this example I was a monkey with a British accent. Wow...watching that really shows me how far I've come in the past 8 months. You could have given me puppet limbs complete with strings and my physicalizations would have been no different! And projection...ugh.

Spanish: Nothing of note here.

Ultimate Frisbee: Some high points here, including a rolling-catch-to-supine-throw-for-the-score that I thought was quite impressive.

Fall Play Post-Production: Today we had to strike the set (sort of), fill out anonymous (yeah, right) evaluations, and grade ourselves (straight As). Impulse and I tried to consider A-minuses for ourselves, but the others wouldn't have it. We also need to figure out a date for the cast party.

That's all for today, and I'm hungry. Bye!

Summer and Venetians

I promised I would explain, and here we go.

This summer I decided to take a 5-week Shakespeare camp. It was split up into 4 age groups (I in the oldest), and we were assigned plays based on the group. The youngest kids got The Merry Wives of Windsor, the two middling age groups both got As You Like It, and we older kids got The Merchant of Venice. The groups were named, respectively, the Falstaffs, the Touchstones, the Foresters (I might have mixed up the AYLI groups), and us: the Venetians. 14 people not counting myself (16 counting our director and intern). 14 (16) of the most wonderful people I have ever met. We all became very close over those weeks, we put on a great show at the end, and at the cast party we truly bonded as a collection of friends. We also officially bestowed upon each other the titles that had been decided upon over those weeks.

I, as my name implies, am Disconcerting. I played Tubal.

Strident played an amazing Shylock. As mentioned previously, she has a blog, and that was what actually prompted me to get mine.

Eloquent played Antonio. He also plays the violin. That concert I attended last weekend...WOW.

Impulse played Morocco and the Duke. She was the one person I knew already, as she goes to my school. But you probably figured that out from my references to her in Reindeer Soup.

Squeak played Bassanio. I can't remember why we gave her the title of Squeak. Oh, well. Great Bassanio.

Presence played Lorenzo. I heard he did a very disturbing villian a while back. Now that I've seen him as the lover boy I would really like to see that!

Ridiculously Cute played Jessica. She's always smiling...except when doing an improv scene for our acting teacher. At the end of that scene everybody rushed forward to give her a hug.

Penguin played Gratiano. His title came about through the shirts he always wore. "One by one the penguins steal my sanity" and such.

Mysterious played S...oh, shoot. Was it Solanio or Salerio? Whoever's got the "My daughter!!!" monologue. Very memorable performance. EDIT: It's Solanio.

Fireball played the other S. Too bad she lives in Tennessee. EDIT: It's Salerio.

Everything played Portia. She would try to do anything, everything that needed to be done. Hence the title.

Gift played Nerissa. Something I have learned over our (Venetian) meetings in the weeks following the camp: If you are feeling drowsy, a few minutes of swing dancing with Gift are more effective than any amount of caffeine. Whoo...that girl has energy.

Man played Old Gobbo. I would describe his old-man performances as, "Incredible! Unbelievable!"Bit of an in-joke, that.

Closet Goof played Lancelot Gobbo. Where did you go, Goof? We haven't seen or heard from you in a long time!

Absent played Aragon and Leonardo. Ah...the title was a bit of cruelty on my part. He had often shown up late and then had to go out of town for a few days, so when possible titles were being thrown about I suggested Absent. He didn't complain too vehemently, though.

Omniscient...SOOO helpful! I don't know what we would have done without her. She also started a script for "The Merchant of Venice II: Back to the Whorehouse." I beleieve that's a reference to another one of our many in-jokes.

Omnipotent was our director, and she did a fanstatic job. She is currently teaching an acting/movement/suzuki/composition class. Impulse, Strident, Presence, Ridiculously Cute, Squeak, and I are all in that class.

That's all for now, but I will be back once I've gotten Solanio and Salerio sorted out.

It's over.

At last, Reindeer Soup has ended. I enjoyed it immensely, but at the same time I'll be glad to have my life back.

Overall I felt tonight was the strongest performance, and I figured out how the problems were divided up over the nights. Thursday had the weakest (though not weak in an absolute sense) acting, Friday had the most line slip-ups, and tonight had the most technical/prop snafus. I shall detail:

1. The door swung open a few times. Then again, that happened every night.

2. When Vince force-fed me my meds, my coughs and splutters were entirely real. I even got water up my nose!

3. As it turned out, I had tied myself up so tightly Vince couldn't undo it. I had to continue the play tied for several lines until I could extricate myself. "Dude, I really hope you're a boy scout." For the record, I am not.

4. The lighting crew was a tad slow bringing the "angel" light up on Vince.

5. Julie lost one of her boots, but she covered it pretty well.

6. Taking my meds later on I got a bit too much water with them. More coughing and water dripping.

7. This could just be passed off as Klute stealing them or me being crazy, but I forgot my socks. After the play, Penguin pointed out that forgetting socks has become a trademark of mine. In the summer production of The Merchant of Venice, we were all supposed to wear black socks, but I forgot and wore white socks. Then tonight I forgot my socks entirely.

(tangent) This reminds me of a catastrophic error I almost made while on backstage crew for a production of Footloose this summer. I was supposed to pull the rope to lower the window for thr gym scene, but I came within a few seconds of hitting the ballon drop instead! *clutches head* (end of tangent)

Bah, enough bemoaning the negative. Aforementioned issues notwithstanding, we were AWESOME! Some of my Venetian friends (Strident, Presence, and Penguin, to be precise) came to see it tonight, and they all loved it. Strident said that my spontaneous dancing with Chrissie (played by Impulse) made her cringe.

And I promise, next update I will explain what this "Venetians with odd titles" thing is all about.

Now I only have the Iraq War Project to worry about.

...Only? Less than three weeks to go and the last act isn't even written.

'Night.

Whew!

FINALLY some time to blog!

Wednesday: Dress rehearsal went quite well and late. I can't remember anything else of note.

Thursday: Watched some of "Whose Line is it Anyway?" in drama class. Then at lunch the class put on an improv show in a similar style. It went off fairly well and we managed to keep our minds out of the gutter (mostly). We rehearsed Reindeer Soup a bit more and made some last-minute tweaks. I went home, spent 15 minutes checking email and bolting down a salad, and then...OPENING NIGHT!!! Nobody made any horrible mistakes, and overall I thought it went very well. I did notice that Vince's line was changed from "...or I'll knock you on your butt!" to "...on your ass!" One thing I did not like was the delivery of my big monologue. I could just feel that it wasn't nearly as good as during the dress rehearsal. Oh, well. I'll probably improve tonight. Practice makes perfect and all that. Then the eeeeevil math homework kept me up late.

Today: Fridays start late for me, which is a good thing as I couldn't drag myself out of bed until 8. We covered limits involving infinity in math today. Once you learn the shortuts it's not that bad. Lunch was chicken and a fava puree (F-f-f-f-f-f!) that tasted much better than it looked. Spanish test I feel I did pretty well on, and bio was let out early. Made a few nice catches and blocks in Ultimate Frisbee, including one drop-catch-for-the-point that was 100% reflexes. My throws still curve a lot, and depending on what I want that can make me or break me. Oh, yes: interesting. One girl in my grade has been dressing up as someone/something different every day this week. Today she dressed up as me! Heh. (EDIT: That would be Lilith.) Finally, I saw a poster advertising a new type of laser-using computer mouse. That wouldn't be blog-worthy except that the mouse was advertised as "fast and percise." Can you have a more unfortunate mistake?!

Just now: *bangs head* That is the umpteenth time somebody has told me to break a leg! Little do these people know that last March I dislocated my knee during rehearsal!

Tonight: That performance was definitely better than the one we gave last night. In particular, I thought, and the producer and my castmate Impulse thought too, that my big monologue was significantly emotionally stronger. I know why. At the end of the Shakepeare camp the Venetians and I took, we all had a cast party, and we truly bonded as a group of friends that night. Thinking back to that experience gave me what I needed.

Less door trouble, too, and this time we remembered to put the tree on its side. One night left...*deep breath*