Back

Back from Georgia. No time to say more; I'm off to a Venetian New Year's Eve party.

Three things

1. Just had an eeevil power outage.

2. I almost certainly won't be updating my blog for a few days, as I'm leaving for Atlanta in several minutes.

3. Had another interesting dream last night, and this one made sense. I was in the Trojan War on the side of the Greeks. People were running about, killing each other all over the place, although there wasn't blood anywhere, very clean (do I play too many video games? Yes, probably). As I was moving through the battlefield I saw that Hector and Patroclus (Achilles's buddy) were both fairly nearby, not having seen each other. Hector noticed me and came running toward me, spear raised. As he prepared to kill me I grinned nervously, pointed, and said, "Patroclus is over there, too." Hector looked, then turned, ran off, and killed Patroclus while I walked back to the Greek lines unharmed. Me, to an irate Achilles: "Yes, I am a rat."

Leaving.

Dead like me

I met a man upon the street
Who said I would be late.
I know without a doubt that he
Had seen--had planned?--my fate.

As I walked by he touched my back.
I thought I felt a chill,
And then a heavy lamp did tumble
Off a windowsill.

A boy's life was with violence cut
Just like a power line.
In seconds did I realize
The life cut short was mine.

But from the corner of my eye
I saw a craven form
Dash from the ledge and vanish like
A rowboat in a storm.

I stood in shock; the man approached,
A post-it in his hand
Which held my name and time of death.
How fully was this planned?

The lights have come; they beckon me;
It's time for me to go,
And where I'm headed now I'm dead
Is not for him to know.

Merry Christmas! Have a nightmare!

Gyaaah! Was I glad to wake up this morning! I dreamed that I read in the paper (which looked oddly like my blog) that several people I knew (along with several I didn't) had been killed in a plane crash, Eloquent among them.

The strange and disturbing part of that was that I wasn't affected nearly as much as I thought I should be by the news. And it wasn't just the dream setting, because around the time I wrote the long post on nightmares I had one where I was being forced to kill the Venetians myself (by L. Peter Callender for reasons unknown) and in that dream I was absolutely hysterical (to be completely honest, in the dream I decided to commit suicide as soon as I was done; that was the only dream I've had in which I have contemplated suicide). Maybe it was just the impersonality of learning about the deaths through the newspaper rather than actually seeing (unwillingly inflicting) them. I sure didn't have an emotional reaction of any sort when I heard about the deaths of Steve Irwin and Dyke Brown, but when I saw a dog get run over I felt cold inside.

Oh, on the being-forced-to-shoot-the-Venetians dream, fortunately for me it didn't last. I suppose the first "warning" sign was that the first person I shot was Christine Daae, and when I took my eyes off her and then looked back, her body had disappeared. It was at that moment that I realized I must be dreaming and promptly put down the gun.

3 more days until Christmas! (Like the subtle change of topic?)

Xmas shopping

I've finally finished buying Christmas presents for everyone. Well, except for the Secret Santa, but those assignments haven't even been given yet.

SQUEEK!

Woke up to the sound of a chew toy today. Makes an interesting alternative to an alarm clock, although I would have preferred to sleep in some more.

Just for the record...

I hate Amazon and their preorder system. Something I've been waiting for for over a year got cancelled without my knowledge. Grrr...*gets out Internet voodoo doll*

Getting rid of things

While cleaning out my closet today I came across a shirt I've had since 5th grade. And not only did it fit, it was actually comfortable. You would think that after six years of growing I'd be able to burst it by flexing.

Orthodontist appointment today, and a rather eventful one. It was decided that this summer, I go back into braces! It's just the front teeth, and only for a few months, but still. Not fun. I'm also going to lose my wisdom teeth, which will put an end to my near-17-year streak of not having any body parts removed. Still beat out m'dad, though. And I remain the only male member of the family who still has his appendix.

Disney gone wrong

Ask and ye shall receive: here are my retouched lyrics to A Whole New World.

I can tear down your world
Shifting, shattering, sundered
Tell me, princess, now when did
You last have your heart denied?

I can darken your eyes
Break you wonder by wonder
Murder, chaos, and plunder
No more magic carpet ride

A dying world
A once-fantastic place I slew
No one to tell me no
Or let you go
Or say you're only dreaming

A dying world

A once-proud place I never knew

But when I'm way up here

It's crystal clear

That now I've lost this dying world to you

Now I've torn this dying world from you

Such unbearable sights

Indescribable feeling

Tossing, tumbling, freewheeling

Through an endless writhing sky

A dying world

Don't you dare close your eyes

So many things I'll never see

Hold your breath - it gets better

I'm like a falling star

I've come so far

I can't go back to where I used to be

A dying world

Every turn sears your eyes

With all horizons choked by you

Every moment red-letter/Not a moment red-letter

I'll chase you anywhere/You'll chase me anywhere
There's time to spare/There's time to spare
Let me tear this dying world from you/I can't spare this dying world from you

A dying world

I'll never see

A thrilling chase

A fallen place

For you and me/For you and me

I destroy cups

Got my PSAT scores the other day. *smug grin*

Today was the last class and performance of the Saturday acting class. First we showed our "storm scene from King Lear" viewpoints and kinesthetic response, then Impulse and Strident showed their freewriting compositions. Ridiculously Cute, Strident, and...*tries to think of a title for this guy* Dancer had their composition based on the opening scene of King Lear, and then Presence, Squeak, and I did ours on the same scene. I crushed the cup in my hand as requied, but I wanted one of the styrofoam bowls from last week; they have such a satisfying crush sound! Finally were the other scene compositions: Ridiculously Cute had the Edmund monologue (and people say I'm creepy?), Squeak and I had a Lear/Reagan scene, Impulse and Dancer has the Edgar/Gloucester cliffs-of-Dover scene, and Strident, Presence, and one other student now named Absent Beta (guess why) had a scene near the end involving Lear and Cordelia. Lilith came to see us! Yay! Afterward everyone went to a nearby restaurant--Lilith came with us, and so did Impulse's brother--and talked much. Impulse and I recited large chunks of Reindeer Soup, and Squeak, Strident, and I recited large chunks of Merchant of Venice.

Now that class has ended and school is out I have no idea when I will next see any of my friends! Must...organize...meeting!

Best. Quote. Ever.

"What's it like at night when the demons visit you?"

ROFL. I have to find a way to work that into my next conversation.

Winter vacation at last!

No more finals! Yay!

Events of the day:

Spanish final: I thought it went well.

Presents: Got a nice book from Lilith today. Thanks! I didn't forgot your present; I'm contucting my giving spree tomorrow.

Sweet Charity: Got my script today. Shame on me if it's not FULLY memorized by the end of vacation! Luckily, memorizing lines is my strong point.

Quizno's: Yummy sandwich.

Dragon dream

Maybe the release of Eragon (don't bother seeing it, by the way) has infected my brain, but for whatever reason I had a dream last night that involved me competing against a black dragon. First, the dragon breathed 7,012-degree fire (an error: anyone who plays D&D knows that black dragons breathe acid) on a section of the pier we were standing on and challenged me to make my breath as hot. I lost, of course, but I still managed to get it up to 6000+ degrees. Don't ask me how. Next was a gymnastics contect. A quote from me: "Your headstand wasn't a very good one, but everyone knows dragons only have Dexterity 10." I then woke up before it was my turn.

Spanish final later today. *cracks knuckes*

Untitled poem

This one came to me in the shower, of all places. It started with me thinking about camera exploits earlier today but then turned into something different.

Eight twisted eyes
Like spider eyes
Hunting for flies.

Finding some prey.
Food for the day
After some play.

Caught on a line
Strong but yet fine.
"Now you are mine."

"Murder!" It cries.
Humans, not flies.
My spider eyes.

Eh. Make of it what you will.

Death never sleeps

Reading Strident's poetry blog has made me want to go back to writing poems of a morbid nature. Here are two short poems, each incorporating the title line.

Slamming the door
Fleeing the shade
Dying no more
I've got it made

Sinking through dreams
Resting at last
Sleeping too long
Safe time has passed

Behind the door
Lies one who's slain
Breathing no more
Feeling no pain

Can't hear the cries
Of one who weeps
Forgot one thing
Death never sleeps

*****

Break down in tears
Fall to your fears
Death comes at last
Breaking its fast

Each dying cry
Shouting out "Why?"
Gets no response
Echoes it haunts

Felling each friend
On without end
Gorged on the best
Why won't it rest?

Death never sleeps
Onward it creeps
Under your door
Hung'ring for more

Ha ha!

No finals for me today! That was nice.

Only one final tomorrow and I get to go in late since it's the day's second.

That's all my gloating for now.

I hate life.

At least, I hate life when life consists of taking your Calculus final while sick. I thought the test itself went pretty well, but still.

Why is it that when I say I'm sick people usually react by hugging me? It makes no sense. "You're a festering cesspool of germs? Here, let me wrap my body about you!"

Apparently one of the seniors is going to write an article about us "behind the Commons" people, as "we are an enigma to the rest of the school." Some talk about what to say and what not to say, though certain people *glances at Red Delicious* get the two mixed up.

I thought the biology final was quite easy, and we got candy canes to boot!

Saw the cast list at last. I'm Vitorrio! WOOHOO!

I love li--*SNEEZE*

...life.

My sneezes and your snores

I have done NOTHING interesting today. I'm just blogging on principle. Here are the "highlights" of the day.

Morning: Spent a considerable amount of time in danger of drooling. XP

Afternoon: Studied for finals tomorrow and goofed around on the computer.

Evening: Made some progress toward organizing something that might be interesting, blogged for a while, then ran off to study more.

Blarg!

I still do not know what my Sweet Charity role is! Sometime this week.

Mmm...peppermint cake.

Title says it all.

Also, I have had two unexpected free periods today, and it appears that I may have a third.

This is not a good keyboard.

*****

Now that said free period has arrived, I've got 30 minutes before I need to head to Spanish and no homework to do. Let's talk.

Let's talk about the day so far.

Math: Some more review and filled out course evaluations.

Bio: The same. My answer to one of the questions: "Carbonill! Carbonyl! However you pronounce it! Letter A! Number A! I'm still asleep!" But I got it right, and that's what counts. Filled out the evaluation in a New York thug "accent." Why? I felt like it for some reason.

Morning Meeting: A few announcements, including a promise to blow up pop tarts in the near future. Then some free time. In the not-so-near future, they might even blow up black powder-laced pop tarts.

C: Freedom!

D: Freedom!

Lunch: Burrito (why don't they have cheese? Why?) and a piece of said peppermint cake. Watched a chain reaction project put on by the applied sciences class. It didn't work very well.

Drama: I'm writing this now.

Spanish: Yet to come. Probably review for the final.

Frisbee: I forsee today being mildly slippery, but not so much that running becomes dangerous. A few people will fall once or twice.

Casting Meeting: PLEASE give us our roles today!!!

I still have 20 minutes. Let's write a stream of thought.

Looking at a painting. Sick, stoned leaf? Why do artists anthropomorphize plants? Calvin uses the word "anthropomorphize" in one of his comic strips. His mother is cutting up an onion. I cut up some onions to make dolmas once. I love dolmas. That batch came out quite lemony. I like lemons. Others say, "when life gives you lemons, make lemonade." I say, "When life gives you lemons, say thanks and suck them dry." Like a vampire. I recently got a pdf about vampires. For D&D of course. Accidentally turned of "stickykeys" just now, whatever that is. Made an odd sound as the window popped up. I have never used "stickykeys." I am not very tech savvy. I am tech semi-literate. I'm probably making a lot of typos. I'll fix them later. Let's try to explore some new territory. Not that one can choose where one goes in a stream of thought. Like the transition from lemons to vampires. Surreal, like the transition from life to death. That's a line from a fantasy novel I read once. I'm typing rather quickly right now considering my style. I'm probably...I said that already. Let's talk. Die stickykeys, die! I wrote , "DIE! DIE! DIE!" on my bio homework, but I'm not referring to the homework or my teacher. I was referring to an empty box that had no purpose, I wanted the empty space gone, to die, as it were, and so I filled it up with DIE! DIE! DIE! I may have gotten that from my old geometry teacher. She was always "killing" things in class. She's awesome. I still have 15 minutes left. Can I keep this up the whole time? The longest such stream I've written before was the 15-minute one early on. The next one after that would be a 10-minute stream on loyalty I had to write for the Saturday acting class. We give our final presentation this coming Saturday. The three pictures plus various scenes and compositions. I'm glad we're keeping the kinesthetic response in the presentation. It's fun, and it's enjoyable to watch. My back feels slightly uncomfortable right now. So does a certain spot on my left hand. Gone now. Could it have been the product of a fevered mind? No. But that was fun to write. Such as when I said to Red Delicious, "On your knees, whelp!" e promptly dropped to his knees. I walked away saying, "That's better" in a somewhat Palpatine-esque voice. Esque. Basque. Are Chechens now licensed? Are Basques? That was a line from the Iraq War Project. Time to go back and fix all my many typos. I'm ending the stream now.

7 minutes left. I'm going to give that^ block of gibberish a title. One appropriately random.

"Running through a cornfield as my ears spit fire."

Too long.

"Finding one's own hot dog."

Something not quite right.

"Sugar and paint"

Why not?

Why am I even worrying about what title to give a stream of consciousness that covers subjects ranging from lemons to Basques to writing DIE! DIE! DIE! on my bio homework. Which reminds me: my bio teacher said that anything else I write today he would not take entirely seriously. That was *after* I started filling out the course evaluation (which he will not see for weeks) in the fashion I did. Go back to the top to read bout that.

1 minute left. I will sign off in the manner of Ernst Stravo Blofeld...

"Good-bye, Mr. Bond!"

Last day of school

Really this is the last day of classes. Study day and finals are still to come. I only have four finals intead of six! HA!

Bleah. Vacation approaches and I can tell I'm coming down with something. But it will have no effect on me, for Peter is strong like bear! *pounds chest*

*COUGH COUGH HACK COUGH* *wheeze* No more chest pounding for me.

Odd dreams

1. My mom gave me a few dollars to bet on the horse races. In one race I won over 400 dollars, and the odds weren't even very long.

2. While driving home on the freeway we got a hop-on. He slid off after a bit.

3. For some other reason I recieved what I thought was a 20-dollar bill, although it turned out to be a 30-dollar bill. When I turned it over and got a closer look it was a 50-dollar bill. I tuned it over again and now it was a $100 bill. As I kept turning it over it grew to $200, $300, $400, and finally $500.

4. I had another in a string of Legend of Zelda-related dreams that has now become quite long. A lot of them feature a forested cave with ReDeads, but it's never quite the same each time. I have to wonder why LoZ is becoming such a regular feature of my dreams. Probably caused by anticipation of Twilight Princess (Preordered and it releases tomorrow! Mehehehehe!)

5. Just remembered: I also had a dream last night where I was Darth Vader fighting the Emperor (yes, I am a GEEK), but each of us was so strong in the Force that neither could kill the other. I would blast the emperor with Sith lightning and put my lightsaber through his head, but he would heal in seconds. He would telekinetically crush me into Vader mush, but my body would just put itself back together. It was quite odd.

I had a very full night.

Today's events being nutshelled in nature

I do not have much time, so I will not go into much detail.

Morning/Afternoon: Finally returned to acting class! Yay! Rehearsed scenes with Squeak and Presence. We also recruited Eloquent, who had come to see our work today, to help us out in places. My hand crushed many a styrofoam bowl. Went out with Venetians to a nearby cafe and had lunch. Gave rides to Impulse, Ridiculously Cute, and Presence. Got lost on the streets. Got in maternal trouble for not giving much thought as to what she would be doing during the proposed hour of Venetian socializing.

Evening: Went to see Strident in The Two Gentlemen of Verona. Got there late. Saw Eloquent also there. At intermission, Eloquent and I spent many happy minutes rendering the English language rather mangled in nature. Saw the rest of the play. Enjoyed it muchly. Afterward, munched truffles while we spent some time talking with Strident. Gave Eloquent a ride home. Decided that Eloquent and Poppet really need to meet sometime soon. You two would hit it off quite perfectly in nature.

My signing is somewhat off in nature.

The Nutcracker

It was wonderful! I've seen The Nutcracker once before, but I was too young to get anything out of it. Everything played the part of Clara. *applauds* Strident, Penguin, and Eloquent also came to see it. During the intermission, Penguin noted that "ballet is not the most effective way to deploy your troops."

Fantasia has spoiled me in regards to the music. I would be watching the various sweets go through their dances and suddenly think, "Hey! You can't be dancing to the fish music yet! The mushrooms haven't done their piece! What? NOW you're getting to the flowers? Huh. Dancing snowflakes!? But there are pieces you haven't done yet! And WHEN are the fairies going to get their turn? They should have come first!" Stupid Walt Disney to mix up the segments and make me confused 66 years later.

After the ballet was over Eloquent, Strident, and Penguin, and I talked outside cowering under an awning (the rain being rather plummeting in nature) until Everything passed. Then she joined us. We then met up with some friends of Everything and Strident and included them in our conversations. I was finally forced to leave and got lost for a few minutes. At least it was only raining lightly.

Quick update

Before I go to bed, I will draw your attention to the fourth on my link list: Strident's poetry blog.

Got it? Good. Now sleep.

Even the dead like to have presents

Continuing my habits of morbid writing and of tweaking songs I have now given the necromancer treatment to The Twelve Days of Christmas. You had better appreciate this; I spent a whole 20 minutes on it!

On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me
A partridge as a zombie!

On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me
Two spectral doves
And a partridge as a zombie!

On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me
Three dead hens,
Two spectral doves,
And a partridge as a zombie!

On the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me
Four rotting birds,
Three dead hens,
Two spectral doves,
And a partridge as a zombie!

On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me
Five gho-oul kings,
Four rotting birds,
Three dead hens,
Two spectral doves,
And a partridge as a zombie!

On the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me
Six ghasts a-slaying,
Five gho-oul kings,
Four rotting birds,
Three dead hens,
Two spectral doves,
And a partridge as a zombie!

On the seventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me
Seven souls a-screaming,
Six ghasts a-slaying,
Five gho-oul kings,
Four rotting birds,
Three dead hens,
Two spectral doves,
And a partridge as a zombie!

On the eighth day of Christmas my true love gave to me
Eight mohrgs a murd'ring,
Seven souls a-screaming,
Six ghasts a-slaying,
Five gho-oul kings,
Four rotting birds,
Three dead hens,
Two spectral doves,
And a partridge as a zombie!

On the ninth day of Christmas my true love gave to me
Nine Hades burning,
Eight mohrgs a murd'ring,
Seven souls a-screaming,
Six ghasts a-slaying,
Five gho-oul kings,
Four rotting birds,
Three dead hens,
Two spectral doves,
And a partridge as a zombie!

On the tenth day of Christmas my true love gave to me
Ten liches scheming,
Nine Hades burning,
Eight mohrgs a murd'ring,
Seven souls a-screaming,
Six ghasts a-slaying,
Five gho-oul kings,
Four rotting birds,
Three dead hens,
Two spectral doves,
And a partridge as a zombie!

On the eleventh day of Christmas my true love gave to me
Eleven banshees keening,
Ten liches scheming,
Nine Hades burning,
Eight mohrgs a murd'ring,
Seven souls a-screaming,
Six ghasts a-slaying,
Five gho-oul kings,
Four rotting birds,
Three dead hens,
Two spectral doves,
And a partridge as a zombie!

On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me
Twelve ghosts a-haunting,
Eleven banshees keening,
Ten liches scheming,
Nine Hades burning,
Eight mohrgs a murd'ring,
Seven souls a-screaming,
Six ghasts a-slaying,
Five gho-oul kings,
Four rotting birds,
Three dead hens,
Two spectral doves,
And a partridge as a zombie!

Today, today, I post about today! I logged on and the world went awayyyy...todayyyyyyyy!

Came to school late, having no first class today. I smile.

Went over Sweet Charity Act I with Peter T, as he wanted some advice on what to cut. Still don't know my role! Grr!

Class meeting. Nothing interesting.

Calculus. Did some review for the final. I own the optimization problems.

Lunch. Had some nice conversations. Impulse and I still haven't pegged a Shakespearian personality for Strident. Sorry! Red Delicious (see Project Shut Up) found some hideously mildewy books on the Commons roof.

Spanish. Class was redirected to the library.

Bio. Spent the whole perio playing with clay. My hands are still tinged with blue, even after a good washing.

Frisbee. Juniors (myself included) carried the game. Two bestowed nicknames today were Blondie and Moppy (that's me).

Tonight I go to see Everything perform in The Nutcracker. I'll post about that later.

More events of today

...only other blog-worthy event I can think of was my conversation with Impulse. We discussed what Shakespearian characters various Venetians would be. I believe Impulse was Puck. Presence was Edgar (from King Lear), and Eloquent was the Fool from King Lear. Neither of us could think of a good character to fit me. Strident, if you're reading this, any suggestions?

I do not understand the mind of the Internet troll. You're digging your own grave by nature, and when you get banned in under an hour, what is the POINT!?

A mix of woohoos and blearghs

Woohoo! Mystery at Twicknam Vicarage performance today!

Bleargh! We didn't get as many laughs as expected!

Woohoo! New issue of The Pillar (school paper) today, and my poem was in it!

Bleargh! They got the title wrong (not that I'm not grateful, but still irritating)!

Woohoo! I got cast in Sweet Charity!

Bleargh! Not a single role has yet been assigned!

More auditions

Had my singing audition at break today. Emily stopped me after the first verse, which is either a really good sign or a really bad sign. She also asked me if I had been in a chorus before, which I'm going to hope is a good sign.

Acting audition contained a surprise:each person read both roles of the script handout, so for a minute or two that resulted in me playing Charity! Lilith laughed a fair amount at that, and I think I would too were I her. I think/hope that I upheld my reputation a being a fast memorizer with Oscar's lines. Tomorrow the cast list will be posted. *crosses fingers* Come on, Vittorio/Big Daddy!

Mystery at Twicknam Vicarage performs tomorrow during lunch. I know I have my lines cold, but I'm a tad worried about Jeremy.

Even more morbidity!

Over on the D&D message boards is a topic, "1001 Evil Necromancer Sayings." As I was considering singing "Dog Eats Dog" from Les Miz for the auditions today it was on my mind, so I took the lyrics and reworked them. Then just now I decided to put them here. This is what Thenardier might have sung were he a necromancer.

Here's hint of soul stuck inside a corpse.
Pardon me, monsieur, you won't be needing this no more.
Shouldn't be to hard to mould.
Add it to the horde! Add it to the stock!
Here among the evil dead a breath away from hell
You get accustomed to the smell.

Well, someone's got to raise them up, my friends,
Bodies in the graveyard, law and order tumbling down.
Someone's got to raise up these odds and ends
Ere the conquest of the town.

Here's an onyx jewel and a dying fool!
Wouldn't want to waste him; that would really be a crime.
Thank you sir, I'm in your debt.
Here's a little toy! Animate the boy!
His heart's no longer going and he's lived his little time,
But his body's working yet.

Well, someone's got to raise them up, my friends,
Before the little harvest is interred into the mud.
Someone's got to raise up these odds and ends
When the gutters run with blood.

It's a world where the ghouls eat the dogs,
Where I raise up the bones in the street,
And the gods in their heavens, they don't interfere
'Cause they're dead as the stiffs at my feet!

I raise my eyes to see the heavens and only the moon looks down!
The harvest moon shines down!

I really should get to doing homework now.

Help me make the music of...tomorrow

Singing auditions were today, but since I happened to be last and Emily (chorus teacher) had to catch the bus, I'll be back to give my audition tomorrow. Whee.

Nothing else interesting today.

Need to write more.

See the heading.

Tomorrow are singing auditions. It took me a while to decide what to sing, but I've decided on Music of the Night. It's one of the few songs that I (1) have memorized and (2) am capable of singing range-wise (still some evil high notes, but not much that can be done about that). That's all I have to say about that.

I remember during the dance rehearsal, Lilith said to me, "Do remember the fire in that poem of yours? Be the fire."

Be the fire.
Move, leap, don't worry.
I fall. Sticks fall and burn.
I am not a stick. I am the fire.
Fire rises, I rise.
Unsure, unsteady.
Fire is always sure. Fire rises and grows.
I am the fire. I grow, I prosper.
"You have a leaf on you."
I am the fire, and I will consume that leaf, growing stronger still.
Singing about the night. Impossible? No.
Fire casts its shadows. Sing from the shadow, but be the fire.
Singing has never been my strongest suit.
I prepare for an uphill battle.
Fire moves fastest uphill. Be the fire.
The fire waits, wakes, climbs, takes, fades, dies, sleeps, hides, bursts, and lives.
Waiting for rehearsal.
Waking up to an unfamiliar challenge.
Climbing uphill.
Taking one's own measure.
Fading as I fall.
Dying as I land flat on my back.
Sleeping as I contemplate music. Music of the night, as the matter falls.
Hiding, biding my time, practicing.
Bursting forth in song tomorrow.
Living!
Be the fire!
I will be the fire!
I am the fire!

Dance, dance, dance

Today were the dance auditions for Sweet Charity. In my opinion it could definitely have gone worse. Could have gone better too.My mouth was locked in a nervous grin for about 70% of the rehearsal and some time afterward.

High points: Getting a "good job" from Laura (the dance teacher), getting myself sufficiently psyched up to do a handspring.

Low Point: Miserable failure of said handspring. Oh, I have fallen far (no pun intended) from my jujitsu days....

According to Ben (played Vince in Reindeer Soup and is the ONLY other guy who auditioned), what I should put down as my special is an extremely high tolerance for pain. For evidence he cited my holding onto an electroshock machine for 45-ish seconds in freshman year. I don't know if that is enough to justify excaiming, "Nothing hurts you!"

What else today? Ah. I learned that I will NOT be ending my TA-ship with the semester. So now I will have seven classes in the spring. Interesting.

Harp goodness

Recently got back from a two-person harp concert. Those two people were Gift and a friend of hers. Strident and Eloquent also came to see it. I enjoyed the music greatly, was impressed by the complete lack of music sheets to refer to, and was floored to learn that Gift and her partner wrote 8/11 of the pieces.

After that I did some Xmas shopping. Certain family members might read my blog, so I won't give out any specifics.

I need to write, but I have nothing.

I need to write, but I have nothing. Why do I need to write? I wrote less than an hour ago, and again earlier today. Normally I would have attended class with Omnipotent and five other Venetians today, but it doesn't pick up again until next week. Too long! I miss everybody! I saw them, not everybody, but some Venetians a week ago, and we broke up even more recently than wold have if it had been a regular class day, but the space between then and now feels endless. I've made another friend over the last week. Thank you, Lilith. I mean, yes, I did know of you before, but only over the past few days have I really started getting to know you. Tangent. Why isn't the italics hotkey working? End tangent.

I need to write, but now I have something. Not enough. I need to talk. Can't talk. Writing will have to do. Math papers are waiting to be graded. They can wait. I have huge chunks of freedom tomorrow, and more on Tuesday, and more on Wednesday. Enough to finish grading easily, and then maybe to grade them all over again. Why would I grade them a second time except to prove a point, but not even then. There are other things I can do with my time. Like wonder if and how I'll be cast in Sweet Charity. Tangent. It's been a while since I wrote a long post like this one. End of tangent.

I still need to write. What to say? Names. Why not names? Peter. Trotsky. Tubal. Disconcerting. I am all these and more. Emperor of Carthage. Whoo, that's and old one. I forget whether Emperor of Rome (Poppet) was the first to bestow my title on me or I on him. I doubt he even remembers. I don't know why I even remember. It's pointless. I am afraid that any possible reason to remember is fading away anyway. I count on my fingers. Some 14 fingers, and 12 Venetian (+3 really, but they have, for all intents and purposes, disappeared). But as Finger 14 is rising, is Finger 1 dropping? I don't know what larger implications it would have, or even if it would have any, but I don't want to cut what may be my last tie to the first half of my life. No tangent this time.

ARGH! It's not enough! I still need to write! Why?! Why now am I possessed with this urge to write and write and wite and then to come back and write some more?! I'm going to look for and post one of those 50-word stories I had to write last year in Lit class. The funny one. Well, you might not find it funny. It's funny in a rather sick way. But the class and my Lit teacher liked it. I'll go look for it now.

Wow. I still have my notebook. My sad, ratty little literature notebook with six pages still attached and more written on the inside front cover than on the pages theselves. There's the beginning of on another poem in there, but I know I'm not going to ever finish it. It was going to be similar in style to the Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. I didn't even like that poem. But what matter? It's just another half-finished project. Another dead sheet of paper in the mass grave of such projects of mine. I'll get halfway, or a third, or a tenth of the way, and then drop off. But on to the 50-word story.

"I'm sorry, Dave, I can't write the story," I said. "Sure you can," Dave replied. "No, my disease is preventing me from writing," I countered. "What disease?" "Leprosy." "If you're well enough to come to class, you're well enough to write." I lifted my arm. "My writing hand fell off."

As a bonus, here are the other three I wrote that day. Yes, there is an element of morbidity here. I was by no means the only one with a morbid mind that day. One classmate wrote about a guy who takes a bite of a piece of bread with "butter" that turns out to be sodium! And then there's the "Time for you to say bye-bye" story. Dave wasn't surprised. He said that when you need to keep it short, morbid is easy. Now on to the other 50-wor stories. Really.

I sat down on Santa's lap unable to keep a grin off my face. Jovial as ever, he inqured, "What would you like for Christmas, little boy?" Imagine his face when I replied, "A five hundred-page book on demonic summoning!" Yes, we Dungeons & Dragons players are often misunderstood.

The janitor watched the tax collector enter the building. His employer escorted the guest into the next room. After the door closed, the janitor sighed and went ot get his mop. He returned to clean up the mess, wondering why they never learned: Assassins' guilds do not pay their taxes.

Having finished off all my classmates, he killer turned to face me. I leaped for the window, but his strong hand plled me back. Terrified, I shrieked, "Why are you doing this to us all?" His response chilled me to the core: "What else to do on a rainy day?"

The third story there was not my only assassin-related piece of writing last year. When we had sentence-writing competitions (adhering to structural guideline XYZ), my sentences were almost always assassin-related. My sentences almost always won. Coincidence?

Here's an example I found just now. We each had to write an extremely short sentence ("I am smart," for example). We then had to expand our sentences to 50 words or more without using lists. Here was my end result: "In those sleepy hours just before dawn on a Wednesday morning, the cackling and emotionally disturbed assassin whose divorced parents had molested him in his youth, utilizing sodium and a barrel of lukewarm tapwater, immolated the homeless, hapless, weepy-eyed orphan clad in only a few scant, oily rags, who wailed and wondered what sick twist of fate had condemned her to this most gruesome, even by pyrotechnic stabdards, of demises." Really, I am not wrong in the head! I promise!

I also wrote essays attacking Thoreau (specifically, referring to him as "an arrogant little snot" at one point) and The Great Gatsby. I believe both received good grades; I know the Thoreau paper did.

Whew! My need to write seems to have been sated for now. Back to the math papers for me!

Sweet Charity

The winter musical this year is Sweet Charity, and as I'm considering auditioning, I saw it on DVD today. It felt as long as Gone With The Wind! Vittorio looks like an interesting role, but I really hope they cut down on some of the dance numbers, particlarly The Rich Man's Frug.

Then there's the concern of total male roles. I can think of at least four significant male parts and only two, maybe three musical theater guys including myself. Oh, I said that already. Hmph. Well, it'll probably get worked out somehow.

Link #3

I have added a link to the Evil Overlord List to my blog. Everybody should, at some point, read the Evil Overlord List.

The rights of dreams

This has been on my mind for the past couple of days. I don't know why; dreams are just figments of the mind. But what if it wasn't so simple?

What if your dreams could think for themselves?

If your dreams maintained their setting and characters, could they be considered a second world?

If your dream world was mre enjoyable than your "real" life, would you be so wrong for wanting to retreat there?

If, for whatever reason, you had to choose between life and your dreams, would you be insane to put the good of "many" before the good of one?

If dreams thought they were real, would the act of waking become murderous?

Why do these posts keep coming back to dreams?

New link

As you may have noticed, I have made an addition to the list of links. Heh. Now I am actually justified in using the word "links." Plural. Anyhoo, Project Shut Up is the blog of a school friend of mine. You should check it out, especially if you like poetry.

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*

It's Halloween!

Stupid combination of play rehearsal (2 days left!) and homework preventing me from doing anything fun...*grumble*

Yesterday was Diversity Day for my school. This mostly consisted of sitting in the theater and listening to a couple of guys speak. We also wrote "I am from..." poems. If I can share it with the rest of the school, I can share it here.

I am from my own mind, from dreams and speculation, but only my own. No one else will dream for me.
I am from Venice, from Russia, and from the mental institute where I never really worked.
I am from the bookshelf. Yes, that shelf, the one that overflows.
I am from those who choose what they dream.
I am from a bag of dice.
I am from a grassy, muddy field, running, leaping, striking down. A hundred feet away, shoes lie forgotten.
I am from two houses, each surrounded by trees and more houses. Even now my mind can walk through the ghost of a dead house.
I am from those who revel in their waking dreams.
I am from speech bubbles, from conversations whose other end I will never know.
I am from endless sheets of paper, all scribbled over with numbers and letters understood by few.
I am from that place behind the brown, fibrous curtain. You can pull it away, but the second curtain is heavier by far.
I am from a disconcerting place. Few others have been there.

(after school)

Quite the selection of costumes at school today. I came as the Phantom of the Opera, but my Spanish teacher thought I was V (for Vendetta). That man needs to be slapped! Other people came as the Corpse Bride, Batman, Guy Being Eaten by Shark, a pirate, Crazy 88 (something from Kill Bill, I don't know), a robot, a dead woman, an angel/fiend hybrid, Harlequin (that was Impulse), and an evil high priestess who was still in favor of gay rights.

Just 49 hours until we perform. On the good side, everyone is (finally!) off book 100%, and we have the Christmas tree and ladders we need. On the bad side, the door is still broken.

[barbaric] YAWP!

Several notes:

Thanks to hard work, Google, Wikipedia, and [in no small part at all] a father who knows his way around music files and CD burning, I have conquered the Weekend of DOOOOOM!

Tomorrow, Reindeer Soup rehearsal goes into overdrive. School ends and rehearsal begins at noon. Rehearsal ends at 10.

Earlier today I met up with mine friends Venetian (I'll explain that later). Strident, Penguin, Squeak, and Eloquent were there initially, and Everything showed up a bit later. We browsed a Halloween costume shop where Eloquent tried and failed to purchase a mannequin head and I discovered that one size does not fit all when it comes to rubber skeleton masks: it fit Strident fine while blinding me! After that we went clothes-shopping/browsing. I suggested a possible modification to Strident's vampire costume and Eloquent purchased an impossibly garish outfit for Halloween. After meeting Everything outside and exchanging many hugs we got gelato while talking about our respective chemistry teachers. I'll never forget Squeak's account of her teacher. "...which resutled in the test tube full of 12-molar HCl exploding. Just standing there, his arms dripping with hydrochloric acid, he says, perfectly deadpan, "Let's go to break now."" Much laughter there. Finally we walked up to a stretch of grass, talked, and compared cell phone wallpapers. There it was that I learned that when my hair is up, my picture can be mistaken for that of a girl even by close friends, even when the real me is right there for comparison. I was quite amused. I also resumed my old Venetian role as a shoulder springboard.

Even earlier today I met another friend of mine I had not seen for three months, whom I shall call Poppet unless and until he objects. We discussed much Dungeons & Dragons, played much Gamecube, and read much (well-deserved) ranting about The Merchant of Venice as directed by Daniel Fish.

Earlier still I took a shower. Nobody reading this cares about that beyond possibly considering it a good thing that I do take showers.

My costume in Reindeer Soup calls for it, and so today I acquired jeans for the first time in approximately a decade. My fellow actors were floored when they learned that I did not own jeans.

I will take another stab at ending my blog with a good quote.

"If a woman has to choose between catching a fly ball and saving an infant's life, she will choose to save the infant's life without even considering if there are men on base."
--Dave Barry (of course)

Blog about blog about blog

I shouldn't be blogging right now, but rehearsal ending early gave me some extra time, and while reading the blog of my good friend Lilly the Strident I saw that she had made a note of and link to my blog. (happy face) I thought it best to return the favor. Seriously, check it out. I have read it and it is very interesting. I'll have a link to it once I figure out how.

Oh, I'll deal with linking later. The address is http://lcdragoncat.blogspot.com

On a completely unrelated note, I missed Impulse (another friend) at rehearsal today. You can only imagine how ridiculous it looked for me to jump around in a circle while flailing my arms aimlessly and singing to the tune of "Little Bunny Foo Foo." I need my "dance" partner or it just--doesn't--work! *breaks out laughing* Rehearsal broke up within a couple of minutes. Coincidence?

Lastly, it was a tad discouraging to find that only I and Impulse(?) are completely off book. WE PERFORM IN 5 DAYS, PEOPLE!

Weekend of DOOOOM approacheth!

Over the next couple of days, I have to worry about:

1. Grading 50+ math projects

2. A play rehearsal

3. Finding out what music Iraqi youths listen to

4. Finding various sound effects to burn onto a CD

5. General weekend homework (at least it won't be due until Tuesday)

But I will not let that stop me from seeing my friends be they old or new! Too long it's been! Too, too!

Hey, I'm a poet. Let's try some haiku.

Assignments of death
Leave gaps few and far between
For relaxation.

Midterm grades and hair

Midterm grades arrived today, and they're straight As with one A+. Well, not all As: two Bs, but those classes give me honors credit, so it's effectively all As. Strangely, my advisor/play director/independent study supervisor/drama teacher referred to me as female at one point in his comments. Last I checked I was definitely male. Maybe it's the hair?

On that note, yes, I am growing my hair out, and right now it's at a length my parents consider a bit more female. I like it, but it can be a problem when I'm moving about on stage and my hair keeps obscuring my face. It's not yet ponytail length, so tying it back looks ridiculous. Hair spray will probably be the answer to the play problem. As I was discussing this with my parents, my dad commented that it's a good "Wayne's World" length. "Maybe Peter [Peter T, not me] would consider changing the play at this point." (he sings) "Iraq War! Iraq War! IDEs! Excellent!" Laughter. I promise to blog the conversation. "Uh oh."

I want to end this blog with a quote, but I can't think of a good one, so here's one of mine. "That's why it's called Darwin's Theory of Evolution instead of Darwin's Theory of PRESTO!"

Stupid recorder

Just finished decoding...er, typing...the interview I recorded for the Iraq War project. Sheesh. Took me about an hour and who-knows-how-many playbacks, and I sill couldn't get it all (though 500 words will be more than sufficient for my purposes). Next time I record an interview I'm making the person speak directly into the recorder.

Rope

My part in Reindeer Soup (Pop) requires that I begin the play tied up and my sons untie me later. For the first few rehearsals of the first scene I tied myself up, but it was so annoying to untangle that I was no longer allowed to tie myself. I didn't even use knots. After today...it's apparently not just me; the rope is cursed. Today our director (a senior) tied me up, and it was as basic as you can get: she wound the rope around me a few times and tucked the ends back under. However, when I tried to get up from my chair I was somehow tied to the chair. And then even after I had extricated myself and worked an arm free (in character), when it came time for me to be untied they still had a lot of trouble figuring out how to get me free. The whole rope issue has gotten rather amusing. To me, at least. Just as long as I don't end up swinging by my neck from the light fixtures....

Then there's the door we're using, which seems ready to fall into the audience (or just fall apart) at a moment's notice. That, however, should be repaired by the time we perform next Thursday. Wow...just so close.

Grr, estoy frustrado

Having some horrible writer's block for this Spanish assignment. Been at it for a couple hours and I only have 3 sentences. Arrgh! At least I only need one paragraph in total. I'd best get back to it; every minute blogging is a minute not working.

Class

Yesterday was the second meeting of a movement/composition class I'm taking. This class we worked on an interesting verbal composition. Working with three sentences from previous writing assignments, our composition had to include, amon other things, a crescendo using only consonants, a decrescendo unig full sentences, an orchestral piece using only syllables, a percussive piece using body music, a choral piece using only vowels, and a solo that played with repetition. And the transitions from one segmet to the next had to be smooth. It took some work, but the final result sounded pretty good, I thought. On another note, I finally got back some old coins I had been missing for a few months. :)

Dead trotsky

1. Two more D&D books to add to my collection. That makes what? 107? 108?

2. Well, that Spanish quiz went horribly enough, thank you very much.

3. Today I'll explain why I made the address "deadtrotsky.blogspot.com." Last year, the spring play at my school included the short play, "Variations on the Death of Trotsky," with myself as Trotsky. I think some guilt on the part of Peter T (the drama director) was part of how I got the part, but that's a subject for another post. And if you're reading this, Peter, and I am wrong, I apologize. Anyhoo, the play is a short, slighty surreal comedy about Trotsky learning that he is dead, that a mountain climber's axe has been buried--no, smashed--in his skull, and why it happened. I died eight time over the course of the play, and grew rather fond of Trotsky. Hence the web address. I've also used Trotsky for other things. My name on a certain message board is Trotsky, and when the school made a flag with stripes by grade and everyone had to sign, I signed as Trotsky. In case you are wondering by now, I am not a Communist.

4. Had a lovely Reindeer Soup rehearsal today. I got what I needed to finish the assignment I referred to last time, I think I've got all my lines memorized, and group chemistry went up overall. There was, however, quite a bit of laughter at productivity's expense. Something about my swaying my hips overmuch and then doing the macarena while singing, "bye baby bunting." Less then two weeeks until performance...heh heh. We'll be fine.

Plays

Now that I have a bit more time I'll talk about the plays I'm in. Reindeer Soup is a 45-page surrealist play about a family that moves to the tundra and is without food. I'm the father, and the father needs his meds or he goes crazy. It's a pretty fun part, and I've memorized almost all my lines. The Iraq War Project is something the drama teacher came up with. It's going to be a half-hour piece in three parts. Part 1 is excerpts from the play Stuff Happens plus a monologue the drama teacher put together. I play Powell. I look NOTHING like Powell. Part 2 weaves together scenes involving a group of Iraqi friends, a debate between John Murtha and the new Iraqi president, and Cindy Sheehan. I play Ali (one of the friends) and Murtha. Part 3...that hasn't been put together yet. It's going to be a collection of monologues created from interviews or various people around the school. However, parts 1 and 2 are running long, so I don't know how much time for the interview monologues we'll have.

I'm also on the drama advisory board, which means I have a bit of clout regarding the winter musical, though not the spring production. People in charge want to go with a collection of one-acts. I'm sick of one-acts, and so are the people I've talked to on the subject. Fall play last year was a collection of one-acts, spring play was a collection of one-acts, an assignment for Arts & Society last year was a one-act, Iraq War Project is a collection of one-acts, and really short ones at that, Reindeer Soup is practically short enough to be a one-act...WHAT'S WRONG WITH JUST DOING A FULL-LENGTH COMEDY FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!?! Anyhoo, about the musical. Last year we did Grease. I didn't try out because I can't sing for beans. This year we're considering Damn Yankees (yay!), Hairspray, Chorus Line, one other I can't remember, and Les Miserables. Um...what? I love Les Miz as much as the next guy, but seriously. We're a high school, and we have one, maybe two good male singers this year. I really don't think we can do Les Miz. Some people are also talking about Chicago. I wouldn't mind seeing that.

Also...um...I'm taking a movement-focused acting class. Ah! Which reminds me: I have a day and a half to find and record two more naturally-occurring theatrical moments. Think think think.

It begins.

Well. First blog ever. *blows out cheeks* Here goes.

I decided to get a blog so I could have a place to vent, gloat, or just get stuff off my chest. Nothing profound or truly edifying. It might also cut down on my tendency to talk to myself...yeah, right.

Guess I'll say a few things about myself. As you could guess from my age if you saw my profile, I'm still in high school. I do pretty well. As far as school's concerned, I practically LIVE in the theatre. I take a drama class there, I'm in two plays (Reindeer Soup and The Iraq War Project), I'm doing an independent study based in the theatre, and my advisory meets there. It's crazy!

I'd better cut it here for now. Spanish homework calls.