Power trip

Today was my second day as a Cal Shakes intern. The littluns are doing all right, with one exception who shall not be named. Lantern vehemently agrees with me here.

Hee hee

Back from the reading. I suppose I could call this my first professional gig, as T paid me 25 dollars for it. Vince was also there, as was T's predecessor. I was glad to see Vince show up: it would have been a little intimidating to be the only person there who hadn't graduated from college already.

Drama from different angles

Today: I and some other people, at least one of whom I know, are going to T's place this afternoon for a dramatic reading of a script of his. I am in the middle of reading the script right now. Yeah, it's a little late, but I didn't get the script until yesterday evening, and then I had some more important things on my mind.

Tomorrow I begin my internship at the two-week Shakespeare camp. I will be working with the 5th and 6th graders, and my co-intern is--of all people--Lantern! This is going to be really fun. One of my primary challenges, at least in the first few days, will probably be remembering that I have an actual job to do. Heh heh.

It's getting late in the morning and I still have several dozen pages of script to read, among other things. Like breakfast.

Look there...look there.

If you take a look around, you will see that I have changed my blog somewhat. This is because I have changed from this time last year. But now I must talk about King Lear and its aftermath. That was AMAZING. Everybody gave it their all on Friday night. The Merchant of Venice was a marvelous experience, to be sure, but the intensity of King Lear blew it away. We had a few hiccups (what production doesn't?), but covers were so effective the none of the audience would have noticed unless they already knew the play really well. There were so many magical moments, from that sexy badass Edmund to Oswald's stammering in the face of a seductive Regan (which I'm not even sure was acting *smirk*) to the songs our director added to our vagabonds to...I could go on forever. I have not used any names or titles yet because at the cast party titles were assigned or assigned anew:

Strident (Kent): Loyal

Squeak (Gloucester): Slasher

Mysterious (Edmund): Sexmeister

Me/Lear 1: Progress

Ridiculously Cute/Lear 2: Sunshine

Cornwall: Rose

Albany: Knight

Goneril: Elusive (may change)

Fireball (Regan): Seductress

Cordelia: Pixar

Closet Goof (France, Servant): Loquacious

Burgundy, Messenger: Everyone

Impulse (Egdar): Bedlam

Man (Oswald): Whaaat??? [I am not drawing a blank. "Whaaat???" is his title.]

Fool: Song

Penguin (Gentleman, Old Man): Gentleman

Presence: Atlas. Huge props to Atlas for putting so much work into the play even though he couldn't get into the camp proper!

Our incredibly helpful and insightful intern: Lantern

Omnipotent: Softy

As with last year, the cast party took place at Bedlam's house. Lantern even showed up! *hugs* After some munching and chatting we filed outside to the trampoline for the Circle of Happiness. This year everybody had so much to say about everyone else that the Circle lasted till (past?) midnight. I couldn't possibly put it all here, so I will just say that you all were and are such amazing people and it was truly a gift to work with you. We retreated inside for more talking (encouraged to do so by sprinkler activation) and tucked in around 1:30 in the morning.

*4-7 hours of sleep, depending on who you are*

A lot of people had to leave during the earlier night (if that makes sense). Those of us who were still there in the morning had breakfast (has it been said enough times that Bedlam's parents are GODS? No, it hasn't.), watched The Hunchback of Notre Dame (forgot how excellent that movie is), picked hundreds of cherry-plums, played a memory game, and, of course, talked about nearly every subject imaginable. I honestly don't know of any people other than Venetians and Riotous Knights from whom I can derive so much pleasure just by talking with them.

Furthermore, Bedlam answered a question that has plagued me ever since she sked it on my blog last year: Why do I act? During the Circle of Happiness, she said that acting draws me out of my shell. I thought about this later: I have made closer friends under dramatic conditions than anywhere else, I became heavily tied to acting near the end of freshman year, when my shell was at or near its thickest, and when I am on stage my sel-censorship relaxes incredibly. She's right. Acting takes me out of my shell, and, particularly over the last year, has broken it up. This is why I act!

The last 24 hours (26 going from the start of the performance) have made the happiest day of my life for these and other (what am I to say on something as casual as a blog? In any event, I think everybody who reads this knows already) reasons.

I have to go.

3...2...1...

20 hours--less--until we perform.

Forgot to practice scenes this evening. Stupid.

Talked with Omnipotent after rehearsal. Hopefully I can incorporate the advice she gave me.

Must greet the morning with full energy and preparation.

Tomorrow is everything.

Abandon thought and let the dream descend...

2 days until Lear. Working hard on all fronts. Much progress today: Omnipotent said I "frickin' kicked ass" in 2.4 (though I can still take it further) and I shed tears in 5.3. Exhausting--and long--day, but fully worth it. The bookend scenes--1.1 and 5.3--are my primary targets for improvement. This play is halfway killing us, but it will ROCK.

*tacks sign onto wall of blog* "3 Hours since Last Breakdown"

Mine hasn't come yet. Hopefully it will show up at "Howl." As if emotions could be hooked up to a dial.

Why can't everything be a science!?

A lot on my mind.

Take it further. Don't be afraid of overdoing it, because you probably won't be anyway.

You're losing your mind, and on some level you realize it.

Don't plan; DISCOVER.

Notes will come this evening.

You are ordered. What happens is anything but. Let the events destroy you.

AWE sendoff at midnight. Can I risk the loss of sleep?

Do not "act." Never "act." Be.

Timmmberrrr!

There is a large tree in our backyard, and this evening it decided to shuck a few branches. Big ones, too. Nobody was hurt, fortunately, and the house only got nicked.

Yesterday and today I attended a couple of orientation meetings for my camp internship. Interestingly, my co-intern will be the same intern under whom I currently am.

4 days until Lear....

Mind out of Matter

I want to put up something of substance, so here's the one-act play (if you can call it that at five pages) I wrote for Creative Writing.

Characters
David—a man placed in an insane asylum against his will
Vincent—the occupant of the cell next to David’s (in reality, a figment of David’s imagination)
Johnson—a guard
Patterson—a guard

Note: It is not noted in the lines, but Vincent and Johnson always speak from offstage.

Scene I

Lights up on David, a middle-aged man in a straitjacket, pacing in a padded cell. There is no clock or window, so time is impossible to determine. The door to the cell is on the wall SL. A vent is located on the rear wall SR, just above head level. It is large enough to crawl into if uncovered. In mid-pace David hears footsteps, stops, and rushes to the door.
David: Hey! Hey! [Slams door] You’ve got to listen to me!
Johnson: (Johnson speaks slowly, as if to a child) Calm down, David. I’m afraid we can’t let you leave yet. Maybe someday, but not today. Now if you sit down, Patterson will bring in your soup.
David: Don’t talk to me that way! I’m not stupid! I’m not—
Johnson: We can’t give you your soup if you keep acting up.
[David opens his mouth, then sighs shakily and sits in the center of the room. Patterson enters the cell with a fairly large bowl of soup.]
Patterson: (in the same tone as Johnson) That’s better. [Sets down soup] Have a nice day, David, and remember: Johnson and I are here to help you.
David: (struggling to stay calm) I don’t need any help. Why don’t you understand there is nothing wrong with me?
Patterson: The doctors said you would say that. [Exits]
Johnson: We’ll see you in three hours.
David: “The doctors said you would say that.” [David pauses, then stands and crosses to the door angrily] Oh, that’s an awfully convenient response, isn’t it? Now you can lock me up no matter what I say! Do you have a reason to do this to me? Or did the doctors say it was a secret? [Pause] Huh?!
[No response. David falls to a kneeling position and beats his head against the floor.]

[Blackout]

Scene II

[Lights up on David in his cell. The soup has been removed. David is sitting against the wall SL, DS of the door.]
David: (tired) Are you there? [No response] I’m sure it’s been three hours. You can’t keep me waiting forever.
Johnson: Technically we can, but we won’t.
David: [leaps to his feet] Ha! I knew it! How long have you been there?
Johnson: Only long enough to hear your last utterance. We’re just here to check up on you.
Patterson: Is everything all right?
David: (indignant) No, of course everything is not all right! You have locked me up in this padded institute without cause, without even a fabrication of a cause, and you’re driving me mad from isolation!
Johnson: We are not driving you mad, David, and we have not, as you say, “locked you up” without cause. You are here for the same reason that anybody else would be here.
David: (strained) Please…just listen to me. I am not crazy. I am even arguing for my own sanity. Doesn’t that alone prove my point?
Patterson: …We’ll see you in three hours.
David: You have no proof! You took me out of my home without warning! All I have is your word that somebody else confirmed me to be mentally ill! That someone is a liar!
Johnson: I doubt that very much. Goodbye, David.
David: You can’t do this to me! You have no right to—[breaks down] you have no right to do any of this! I don’t deserve this. I don’t. Why won’t you just listen?
[No response.]

[Blackout]

Scene III

[Lights up on David in his cell. David is leaning against the wall US just below the vent.]
Johnson: I understand that you may be angry, David, but if you won’t let us in we can’t help you. We’ll be back in three hours with your meal.
David: [Pause] Back in three hours. Always back in three hours. Three hours and three hours and then three more hours. At least I have a clock of sorts. [pause] Unless they’re not telling the truth. Now I see it. Yes, that’s very good, Johnson. You’re not coming back in three hours at all. You’re coming back in three and a half hours, and then four, and then five, and then in an hour and a half just to throw me off. Eventually, I’ll think I’m cracking up, which is just what you want. [Pause] But if I confront you, all you have to do is claim the doctor diagnosed me as paranoid and I dig myself in deeper. At this rate it won’t be long before you really do force me to crack, Johnson. Oh, I have to get out of here!
Vincent: Hello? Is anyone there?
David: [starts] Who? [pauses, then lowers voice] Who is that?
Vincent: Who are you?
David: [locates the voice; it is coming from the wall SR] A friend, I hope. But who are you?
Vincent: …A friend.
David: [growls] This isn’t getting us anywhere. When did they lock you up?
Vincent: Only a minute ago. My name’s Vincent. I swear to you, I did nothing wrong. I’ve never been in trouble like this before.
David: Wrong? This is an asylum. You’ve been tossed into that cell because you’re crazy, or at least that’s what Johnson probably told you. [pause] Say, how can we hear each other? These walls are soundproofed.
Vincent: …Some padding is missing from this wall. A defect.
David: Really? [pause] I don’t know who you are, but you sound completely sane to me. Do you have any clue as to why you’ve been locked up?
Vincent: Not the faintest. All I know is that a vehicle pulled up in front of my house the other day and Johnson and Patterson asked me to come with them.
David: Your house? Where do you live?
[No response]
Vincent, are you still there? Vincent!
[Patterson enters]
Patterson: Who are you talking to?
David: (uncomfortable) Nobody.
Patterson: [looks at David meaningfully] That’s what I thought. [exits]
David: Stupid! [Turns into wall SR, begins banging his head against it] Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid David! Why couldn’t you have told Patterson you were talking to yourself? Now they’ll never let you out. [Pause] You have to get yourself out.
Vincent: I can help you, David, if you’ll let me. [His tone has become much more assertive]

[Blackout]

Scene IV

[Lights up on David and Patterson in the cell. David sits on the floor slightly right of CS. Patterson places a bowl of applesauce on the floor CS. He takes a spoonful of applesauce and moves as if to feed it to David, but David’s glare discourages him. Patterson shrugs, sets down the spoon, and exits.]
Johnson: We’ll see you—
David: (snappishly) You’ll see me in three hours, I know. Just go.
Johnson: Please don’t use that tone of voice. [pause] We’ll see you in three hours.
David: [turns to wall SR] They’re gone now, Vincent.
Vincent: I know. Now we have three hours to escape. Is there anything of use in your cell?
David: …Applesauce.
Vincent: (impatient) There’s a vent, isn’t there?
David: Oh! Yes. [pause; David looks at vent, thinking] You want us to crawl out through the vents? I can’t reach that high with my arms tied, and there’s a grate over it anyway.
Vincent: …Run up the wall and stamp it out. Then run up again to reach the vent.
David: (incredulously) You’re crazy! Do I sound like a ninja? Do you really think I can do that?
Vincent: Do you want to get out of here or not?
[David shoots the wall a dirty look, then walks DS, turns, and runs up the wall beneath the grate. He barely gets a foot onto the vent before crashing onto his back.]
David: (in pain) Ah! [He lies supine for a moment then struggles to his feet.] I can’t do this; it’s too much. Vincent, you’ll have to think of something else. [pause] Vincent?
Vincent: I’m trying to knock out my own grate. [pause] Not that time.
David: (skeptically)…You’re being awfully quiet about it.
Vincent: …I’ve taken martial arts classes. I can land softly. [pause] Nope. Try again.
David: So did I, but I can’t fall time after time without the slightest crash! [pause] So what am I to do now?
Vincent: Get your straitjacket off, of course.
David: (frustrated) And how do you propose I do that? I’m no contortionist.
[No response. David leans against the wall US and slides down. His gaze wanders for a moment, and then locks on to the spoon Patterson left behind. David smiles]
David: That could work. [David crawls to the spoon, picks it up in his mouth, and begins attacking one of the buckles on the straitjacket.]

[Blackout]

Scene V

[Lights up on David standing in his cell near the door. He still holds the spoon in this mouth and, having undone two of the buckles on the straitjacket, is trying furiously to undo the last. The applesauce had been knocked over and stains David’s clothing in places. He kicks the bowl into a corner.]
David: (speaking while holding the spoon in his teeth) Come on! Come—on! [He topples over and continues his struggle on the floor] Rrrrgh!
Vincent: How are you doing in there?
David: (annoyed) How does it sound like I’m doing? I’ve almost got it, but this last buckle is killing me! I can’t get the leverage I need from this angle without breaking my incisors.
Vincent: Keep at it.
David: Easy enough for you to say! [The spoon slips from between his teeth]
[Patterson enters. David quickly rolls over prone, facing SR. He lies on top of the spoon.]
Patterson: David, are you all right?
David: (quickly) Yeah, yeah. I just…tripped over my bowl.
[Patterson swivels his head toward the bowl lying several feet away. He is clearly unconvinced.]
Patterson: Are you sure?
David: Yes! I mean, yes. [David works his way to a kneeling position, still facing away from Patterson. He babbles over his shoulder.] I’m okay, really. I mean, of course I’m not okay, not in the fullest sense of the word; that’s why I’m here, right? But I’m fine. I’m—I’m not hurt or anything. So, if you could just—
Vincent: I did it! I’m in the vent!
[David freezes. His eyes slowly turn back to the cell wall SR. Patterson looks oddly at David, then at the wall, then at David again. David’s breathing shifts toward hyperventilation. There is a long pause.]
Patterson: David, I really don’t think—
David: (hysterically) Just go!
Patterson: (suspiciously) We’ll see you, David. Probably in less than three hours. [exits]
David: (in a much higher voice than usual) Vincent…could you please keep it DOWN? Johnson and Patterson will probably be back in minutes, and I still have a buckle fastened! [remembers the spoon] Wah! [He grabs the spoon in his mouth and goes to works, but he shaking so much that his efforts are useless.] Nooo! Hurry! [David lets the spoon fall from his mouth and tries to use the slack he already has to muscle the last buckle loose. After a few seconds the fabric tears. David heaves and it rips off. David’s arms are free.] I’ve got it! [He runs to the grate and pulls it away, exposing the vent] If you’re there, Vincent, make room, because I’m coming up. [He grabs the lip of the vent and readies to hoist himself up, but stops] Wait. Vincent, there’s something you need to explain. [begins to pace] You said, “I can help you, David, if you’ll let me.” [pause] If you had just been put into the cell, you couldn’t have heard anyone identify me by name. How did you know it was David? [No response] Huh? [No response. David begins shouting] I know you can hear me, Vincent! Have you been spying on me? [No response. David returns to the vent] Did you put me in here!? Are you just some trick Johnson thought up to torture me!? [lights begin to dim; no response from Vincent. David becomes more deranged with every word.] Who are you!? What do you want with me!? I know you’re in there, and I’m not coming out until you answer me! [pause] SHOW YOURSELF! [by now only a trace of light remains]
[No response. David begins to shake violently.]

[Blackout]

Scene VI

[After a moment of silence, voices are heard in the darkness]
Johnson: Patterson.
Patterson: Yes, Johnson?
Johnson. A new patient just arrived. Where do you think we should put him?
Patterson: How about that empty cell next to David? I heard the poor fellow shrieking his head off, and I think he could use some company.
CURTAIN

D'ooooh.

Lear rehearsal is tomorrow. Not today.

Now if only I could go back in time to alert myself of this before I got on BART.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

It took me nearly five hours, but I finished.

Now for sleep.

Enough with the Lear quote titles.

Today was a very colorful day. It was Blood Day in stage combat, so we had many a busted lip. I was having such fun with the mouth blood that I never got around to body wounds. Ah, well; it's not as though squibs are hard to make on my own. In addition, we had a face-painting fundraiser, where I learned that saying "surprise me" turns you into a clown. Got some nice pictures of it before Omnipotent forced me to clean my face off. The "howl" speech just can't be taken seriously when delivered by Krusty.

Everything stopped by at the end of camp. Yay! She, Strident, Penguin, Impulse, Mysterious, Ridiculously Cute, Squeak, and I had a nice, casual talk with Omnipotent after (late) rehearsal about movies, past campers, and the like.

There's an Italian restaurant called Strings nearby. Their artichoke ravioli is extremely good.

Working my way through the second two Matrix movies on Youtube. What I've heard in terms of quality doesn't encourage me to spend money on renting them, but this way I can get quite a large chunk for free.

Extra rehearsal tomorrow. I'll be there if I'm not asleep from staying up until midnight to pick up the final Harry Potter book.

The end of an era...*sigh*

Now I must shower.

...I'd use them so that heaven's vaults should crack!

Blazing Saddles...thbpth.
Annie Hall...thbpth.
Sleeper...thbpth.
Casino Royale...*retch*

I am becoming thoroughly turned off to 60s and 70s comedy, particularly of the Woody Allen variety.

Had I your tongues and eyes...

More work on King Lear today. We covered 2.4 and the storm scene, among others. Omnipotent really made me think about why I would move from one place to another. Apparently, when other people aren't sure of what to do on stage they begin to wander, while I do the exact opposite and root myself. This is a habit I will need to work hard to break. I am also growing more comfortable with the storm scene, not sitting on the instinct to gesticulate. It brings an interesting mental picture: that of a flame-wreathed Lear slowly burning away from the feet upwards, not falling as his feet and legs are consumed, but rather hanging in space until the flames close over his face and he vanishes entirely..."No, I will be the pattern of all patience. I will say nothing."

Our bake sale was at lunch today. My muffins sold okay, but there are still eight-ish left over. Fireball says that they would sell better if I billed them as cupcakes, which makes little sense to me.

Fundraiser breakfast on Friday. I bring the plates for it, but I will not be partaking since the milk is going to be 2%. Ugh. Skim milk is good, but everything else is too much like fatty paint to drink and enjoy. And don't try to mix skim with low-fat either, because I will look at it and KNOW! YOU CANNOT HIDE! *panting*

I'm cool.

Oh, you are men of stones!

I know, it's been a while since I posted.

King Lear is coming together, and we have most of our props and costumes by now. We still neeed a couple of fundraisers, one of which is a bake sale, so I am currently waiting for a batch of double chocolate muffins to come out o' th' oven.

Had my third singing lesson today. Apparently I need to make sure that I don't jut my head forward when entering a high note, but rather to sing back "into" my head.

I feel as though I've been acting rather stupidly of late. That will (I hope) change.

I haven't given The Phantom of the Opera much thought recently, but today "The Point of No Return" has been playing through my head pretty much constantly. I wonder why.

That's the timer. Time for Muffin Batch Beta.

Howl, howl, howl, howl!

We blocked the rest of King Lear today, and I think Omnipotent did a good job of including both Lears at the end. Ridiculously Cute and I speak the first lines together, and then we switch off until death. She carries in Cordelia's costume, while I carry in the actual body *flex* from the opposite side of the theater, and we mimic each other in action and position.

Tomorrow we all go prop-hunting in Berkeley.

Funny thing

I learned today that my voice teacher is also Vince's teacher. Small world, and considering how strong a singer Vince is, probably a good sign for me.

Never again will I underestimate the versatility of a wicker chair. The chair in question has yielded four cudgels and a nice shield.

Speechless

I hate it when this happens. When I desperately want to say something but have no idea what to say. What effect does it have? Do I look like I don't care? Do I look stupid? If I do say something, how will I know it doesn't come off the wrong way, particularly if the remark would have been a lighthearted one? The situation only gets worse when I am around multiple people. I want to join the conversation, but I don't know when or how. Even long-time friends.

Tomorrow at camp we have Bobby Weinapple for two hours. This means the Grueling Dramatic Improv Scenes. Last year I never felt that I rose to his expectations of me, of us in general, so now I'm psyched. I hope he puts me in a scene, and I hope that I can stop thinking of what to say next, know what to say, and push myself to that emotional place that everyone else talks about, where they always come out shaking. Oh, here I go on this again. Not going to start.

I return to my Death valley journal. It's time to revisit Solo.

*****
Solo, Day 1. It begins. I'm in my territory now. No watch, no script (I didn't get the cast list anyway), no food beyond the predetermined rations. That may not matter, however, as I've decided to spend solo fasting. I will make sure to remain hydrated, of course. I have located a good spot for the latrine, but I don't yet know where I'll set up my tarp. Again, that may not matter, as my territory includes a wonderful shade spot at the base of the cliff, which I am enjoying at this very moment. Speaking of enjoying things, I am now going to take advantage of the change of clothes I sneaked in. My stench has again caught up with that to which my nose is accustomed...Oh, SO good! After two weeks of hiking through the wilderness, a new set of underwear makes all the difference in the world. I briefly considered spending solo naked, but there's a strict no-nudity policy on AWE, plus it would massacre my dwindling sunscreen supply. Mail arrived last night. I only got four letters (one from my parents, one from my grandmother, one from the attendance lady at school (it was a form letter), and one from a behind-the-Commons senior in my biology class), but the deadline was the 12th, so I expect I'll have more when we return to base camp. The letter from Annie was a pleasant surprise; I had no idea who might be writing to me outside of my family, seeing as most of my close friends go to different schools. Looking at my wrist, I see that I have a fairly prominent watch tan. I hope tans are the sort of thing that require maintenance; I like being pale. This is the perfect opportunity for some heavy personal reflection, but I'll start that at the top of the next page, which is two lines away. I'll also take a few minutes' break before I start to get my mind out o its current stream-of-consciousness mode. Signing off...Something I mentioned to N the other night was that I seem to be more able to open up to people when placed with them for extended periods of time. It happened with the Venetians, and it's happening with the Cougars (thought not nearly to the same extent, probably due to a mix of the shorter total time frame and that I already know these people). I am not sure whether this is just a result of my becoming more comfortable with the people or something that I automatically do as a matter of necessity to avoid going isolation-crazy. Under normal circumstances I do not open up to people quickly or easily, although I feel that has changed somewhat since last summer. I think I became more closed-up in personality late in middle school. Up through elementary school I was regarded as a pretty cool guy, a substantial part of which was my reputation of being really smart. I had plenty of friends, lived near them, saw them regularly. Then came sixth grade. Whether its was because I had changed, I hadn't changed with everyone else, or I had simply been cast into an entirely different group of people I do not know, but at school my social life went into a tailspin. At one point the two guys who did hand out with me regularly told me that their own reputations were tarnished by contact with me. As a sort of double whammy, the transition from elementary to middle school was accompanied by a move, which meant that most of my old friends dropped out of contact. Over time I guess I just got used to this. By eighth grade I know I spent many a break or lunch walking around by myself. Harkening back to the possibility of everyone else changing naturally while I stayed the same, one of my main worries or fears in life is that I am a year or two behind in maturity. It has certainly felt that way at times, and it would explain why most of my friends over the past few years have been younger than I am. Gah! No offense meant, of course! If I had to come up with a reason for this, it would be that I miss the days of elementary school and am subconsciously trying to hold myself to them. The cynical, philosopher-bashing side of me says that the above is bunk and that I just need to grow up. Anyway, there was not much change between middle and high school. Same crowd (more or less), same living location. I only had one friend who lived nearby, and by this time he and I were drifting apart. Not for any one reason; our visits just seemed to devolve into awkward silences. I spent most of my time reading, playing video games, burying myself in D&D, and trying to arrange visits with Bobby, the one friend from elementary school with whom I remained in anything resembling regular contact. At school I had hooked up with the book/anime club (two clubs, same crowd), but even there I was an outsider. Come to think of it, if our school has an "outsiders group" it's the behind-the-Commons folks, and I was attracted to them first. I was also one of the few people (maybe the only person) who still liked Frodo when he left at the end of last year. Can we edge-dwellers recognize our own kind instinctively, or is there another quality that brings us together? Most of us do seem to be geeks. It was also at the end of freshman year that acting really became my passion with Harvey. Sophomore year was fairly uneventful, although by then I had become quite the quiet one. Over the summer, as I said before, I met the Venetians, and my close friends could no longer be counted on the fingers of one hand. Even now, however, unless the conversation centers on one of a few subjects, I am not a good talker. Many a time people with whom I hang out have been chatting away merrily, and I can offer little more than my ear. Is this my nature, or is it nurture? If the latter, perhaps I can fix it...My tarp is set up. It is by no means a masterpiece, but it will serve. I am in fact a little proud of myself: one particular taut-line hitch kept getting pulled out by the wind, so after a few repairs I improvised a simpler know that can still be slid along the rope an is proving to be a lot more secure. It's a sort of layered overhand knot. The time is now sometime in the mid-afternoon. Beyond that your guess is as good as mine. My stomach hasn't yet noticed that I haven't had lunch. Good. Heh heh. The elements are failing to dislodge my shelter. Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! Rage, blow! Okay, maybe Lear didn't have his tarp in mind when he said that, but I still thought it appropriate...I've always like the darker side of things. When I played make-believe as a kid after watching this or that Disney movie, I would always cast myself in a manner similar to the villain. Sure, Aladdin may have won the day, but Jafar was so much cooler! As a side note, show me someone who didn't play make-believe as a child and I'll show you a very boring person. I loved that back-ad-forth scene at the end of The godfather and its homage in Revenge of the Sith. I'll take Gollum over Frodo any day, I thought Visser Three was great (all of you who read the Animorphs series, please raise your hands), and if I reach a point in a book or movie where it looks like there is absolutely no chance of heroic victory (Yawgmoth anyone?) I feel, for lack of a better word, pleasant. That may be why I enjoy the War of the Spider Queen series. The protagonists are evil, the antagonists are evil, and good is a side show that gets squished at the end. As anyone who knows me is aware of, I love darker plays and have a bit of a fascination with dreams and nightmares. I can also be very creepy when I want to be. Why do I like the dark side? I wouldn't be surprised if I have been--excuse me, a rope has come loose...As I was saying, I wouldn't be surprised if I have been poisoned against good guys by reading the Ramayana. Rama, ugh. Stupid little Mary Sue fanfic--I digress. One other reason: the bad guys have a monopoly on pipe organs, the deepest and richest voices, and maybe not a monopoly, but a very large share of killer music. I am not, however, a fan of horror movies except for Army of Darkness, and that's really a comedy disguised as a horror/fantasy movie. It also has Bruce Campbell...Chalk up another point for my replacement hitch! I wish I knew what its name is...It's starting to get a bit nippy. Sun is still fairly high in the sky, but there is cloud cover. The initial excitement of solo is wearing off to be replaced by the inevitable boredom. Nothing I can't handle. Speaking of what I can and can't handle, I've decided that I will try to actually run the eight miles of run-in instead of just speed-walking them. AWE should have prepped me rather well physically, and other people say that once you've run for long enough you push through a barrier and the running practicalyl sustains itself. I can understand that, as I have found spinning to be very similar. Once you've built a head of steam, your legs will just keep spinning (Dory: Just keep spinning, just keep spinning...) because they know that you'll fall over the instant you stop. My stomach is feeling hungry, but guess what: fasting follows the same principle! I've gone thrity-six hours without eating before, so I know that after a while your body gets used to it and stops complaining. But keep in mind that when you do break your fast you'll want to have a full meal on hand. Nibble a little bit and you become STARVING. All this talk of food is probably not a good idea, so I'll finish by aying that as soon as I get back I am going to Baja Fresh and stuffing myself with guacamole. Ah! I just remembered that I ought to be airing out my toe...That is odd. Somehow I have develpoed a blister on the side of my foot. Good thing I have a couple of hiking-free days ahead of me. I also noticed an excess of flesh on the non-ingrown side of my bad toe, so I trimmed it with my nail clipper to avoid more ingrown problems. It's not as bad as it sounds: the flesh I cut off had neither blood vessels nor nerve endings...Hmph. My tarp protected me from sun and wind, but apparently it wouldn't have held up under rain. At least K helped me relocate. It's getting dark, so I'll cut my journal here for now and get some sleep.

*****

I doubt I'll finish my solo journal tomorrow, as I have a dentist appointment and a voice lesson both after camp.

EDIT: Funny that the post titled "Speechless" is anything but. Anyway, g'night.

Back to Death Valley journaling

Day 11. "Nine little Indians sat up very late. One overslept himself and then there were eight." This was hammering itself into my brain this morning when I looked at my watch and realized that we (there are currently nine of us) had overslept ourselves. Fortunately, nobody else is gone (yet). Last night, while setting up camp, we were treated to fireworks in the form of a distant lightning storm. Very impressive flashes. On the other hand, the wind practically kicked up a sandstorm during dinner (miso soup). BITTERSWEET NEWS ALERT: E is slated to return to us this evening, but M is gone. Now we return to--never mind. Breakfast...As I was saying, this morning we packed our tarps to the tune of a downpour, and the mountains aheads of us are snow-capped. I thought this was a desert!...A bet is on regarding E's arrival time. If he gets here by 4:59:45, I win. The prize is TBA. Things are a bit slow right now, so I'm going to see how interesting conversation is on the other side of camp...Ha! I win! The others started saying that the prize would be N's underwear, which I then spun into a tale about one of my guilty pleasures being dipping freshly-cleaned sets of underwear in chocolate and sucking it out. We played some more rounds of a game where you draw a random M&M from a bag and share a personal piece of information based on the M&M's color. I drew red (your ideal date), which pleased everyone else, but I remained cryptic. S said that I look "hella different; it's scary" the other day. I want a full-size mirror! For solo I want to do something I'd never do otherwise, but what?

Day 12. Today I wrote up several alternate verses for Strident's version of "hush, little baby." I've also started work on a poem based on The Pillowman. All our hiking today has been and will be uphill. Grr. Solo is in three days. I have a hole in my pants, which is rather unfortunate as these are the only pants I have.

Day 13. We are stopping to have lunch ad refresh our water supply. We'll also be losing E2 until tomorrow as he smashed his knee yesterday evening. We're up at joshua tree elevation again, but there are also evergreens of some kind. I hope the girls strike up some interesting conversations today as the guys' conversations come in various shades of dull...Mmmm, chocolate. *drool* Yeah, we've been carrying around some chocolate that was divvied up just now. There's also the matter of the mysterious "High/Low Pack" that we have yet to open. Actually, it's not all that mysterious: we're all sure that it's chocolate, and it smells that way too. Two days until solo. We still have many miles to hike today...Funny moment: all of us walking in circles among the joshua trees, searching for the trowel that E2 lost. Speaking of E2, his knee injury has made it necessary to take an alternate route to solo. The going is flatter, but it's also a few miles longer, so I expect some late nights and early mornings. Oh, well.

Day 14. Solo is tomorrow! Unfortunately, we still have to hike nine to twelve miles today. We may be allowed to see some of our mail before solo. I hope that is the case, as I really want to know if I should spend the time working on lines...Lunch break. We'll be playing another guessing game, this time assigning ideal animals to ourselves. I'd be a dragonfly.

It's almost eleven, so I ought to hit the hay, but first a bare-bones life catch-up.

• I have lines to memorize this weekend.
• I saw Man & Superman on Wednesday. I also saw Ratatoullie, which was good, but not worth the rave reviews it apparently recieved.
• This afternoon I introduced Lilly (which would you prefer, Tam, Lilly, or Strident?) to Les Miserables.
• L. Peter Callendar is a god.
• I have begun taking voice lessons. Must remember to practice tomorrow, as I didn't get any in today!

If I have time (I think I will), I'll post my writings from solo. Those three days alone make up nearly half my journal! I wrote an average of three and a half pages per day!