This is Urinetown!

So. I haven't posted for quite a while. I've been busy. But Urinetown opens tomorrow night, so here's a quick catch-up.

I feel good about the performance. Our newbie tech guy made some nasty mistakes during dress tonight, but we have tech, makeup, and costumes on top of our lines, songs, and blocking, and it's all fitting together well. I finally have a lock on my F-sharp. Props have been assembled. Our Incompetent Freshmen Set Crew from Hell is turning into a genuine set crew under the guidance of our graduated stage manager. The songs sound great. We open tomorrow night.

Now for the bad: I dislocated my left knee this afternoon. Basically, I was trying to perform a partial split style (jazz split?), and my utter lack of flexibility decided to punish me for it. It was quite painful, as dislocations are wont to be, but momentary and thus far from incapacitating. T, however, apparently still has guilt from when I badly dislocated my right knee two years ago and asked if he ought to call the paramedics ("no need"), considered fetching crutches ("really, it's not that bad"), and tried to convince me to deliver all my lines and songs during the dress rehearsal while sitting in the audience ("Over my dead body!"). I probably sound like the stereotypical wanna-be-tough guy right now--"it's just a sprain"--but seriously, I had full motion back nearly immediately. Worse has happened, and in this very cast, too--two days ago Vince (our lead) had to get staples from a chair falling on his head. T is also insanely superstitious about saying Macbeth--which, for the record, I had not--but that's another issue.

Back to the good. Presentations of our second art projects in Humanitas are coming up, and this time I'm ahead of schedule. This time the assignment was a representation of the relation between the One (read: god) and the Many. Mine's basically a mass game of hide-and-seek with blindfolds and no chance of success, as I (acting as the One) in this activity will not be there to be found. Zeus and Art liked the idea when I bounced it off of them.

Time to turn in. *hums "Snuff That Girl" on way to bed*

Movie day

Spent the early afternoon watching Othello with Kenneth Brannaugh as Iago. Spent the mid-to-late afternoon in Berkeley watching Legend with the Playreaders crowd. Sure, it's an 80s fantasy movie with dated special effects, cheesy dialogue, and a young Tom Cruise without pants, but it still has its charms. Spent the evening watching When Harry Met Sally.

Depending on who you ask I look like either Hamlet (wearing all soft black) or Hitler (hair).

I feel tired unusually early. Better turn in.

Happy Valentine's Day indeed!

I just got a letter from St. John's Santa Fe: I'm in!!! You were right, Lantern! *dances*

Blood, sweat, and sharpie

Making good progress on my Humanitas project. In case I haven't mentioned it before, the assignment was a representation of God/the one/pure form. Mine is my attempt to wrap my head around eternality, although I wish I'd come up with a less labor-intensive concept than a transparent rotating timeline. The frame is 90% constructed, and I just finished the last of the timeline images (but I'd better get high marks in the concept department, as technically it's looking rather shoddy. Sharpie on acrylic is apparently the only way to get free-standing (after Epoxy), see-through images, and such a medium leaves very little room for precision or erasing). Tomorrow morning should give me enough time to attach all my images to the timeline base. Monday I bring the timeline back to school and attach the tapers. Tuesday I finish the axis of rotation and put the timeline on. Wednesday I install the timeline into the frame and secure the final crossbeam. Thursday I present (so says the schedule, but in reality we're running behind). That parenthetical note theoretically gives me the long weekend to do any extra work, but once I Epoxy the images I'll hit the end of what I can do at home, seeing as the frame is too big and spindly to transport with ease.

Shotgun Players

March through April I have volunteered to assist the Omnipotent Softy (and Lantern the AD) as a stage hand for the Stotgun Players' production of Mrs. Warren' Profession, and the first public reading was this evening. All I knew about it previously was that it was a Shaw play, but my previous experiences with Shaw (Man & Superman and Heartbreak House) were both enjoyable. This too is shaping up to be a good play. As an aside, the last couple of pages gave me some Lear 1.4 flashbacks. OS will see me back at tech week in a little over a month.

Urinetown rehearsals are also going well; we've finally gotten into Act II. That blasted F-sharp at the end of Mister Cladwell continues to vex me. Hopefully I can get in some work on it a choral rehearsal tomorrow and my voice lesson on Wednesday. While waiting around during scenes that don't need me I learned that we have a crowbar and what must be a flail (the one-handed 1d8+Str kind) lying around. The crowbar I can understand, as it was found on a shelf with other tools. The flail not so much. Some social complications I thought were gone are still apparently present. They will be resolved shortly. I have forgotten how to tie a noose. That will also be resolved shorty. Those two promises are unrelated.

Occidental says that T's letter of recommendation doesn't count because he's a drama teacher. Good thing my Shakespeare teacher wrote an ambush letter; I'd better make sure it was sent out.

It's late. Sleep...

Minor business

This malaise is finally on its way out.

I decided to move my cell phone to a new location. I spend more time out of my room than in, and I'm sick of having to sprint across the house when I hear a faint, old-fashioned ringing noise.

Senior business

The new project I must deal with is my senior space for the yearbook. In last year's yearbook, every single picture of me (apart from my mug shot, of course) was in the theater section, and I have very similar plans for my senior space: a collage of cast photos both in school and out. I have a physcial model lying on my desk right now, but the real challenge will be making the TIFF document version, seeing as the only computer-savvy person in this household is away on a business trip. At least it's not due until the end of the month.

I noticed while practicing my Urinetown songs just now that the higher notes are feeling more comfortable. This is good.

School news.

Either Zeus is a little too fond of Thomas Aquinas or he forgot to take his crazy pills before Humanitas today. His teachings were logically sketchy before, but now he's in direct conflict with basic laws of physics. "Everything in motion (physical or not) tends toward rest." Um, not according to Newton's 1st Law. Everything in motion tends toward motion unless externally influenced. "Complete happpiness will, when reached, end any personal loss of energy." Well, if you're gonna remain alive (and what can be emotional when dead) your brain will require energy, and expending none breaks the Law of Conservation.

The AP Stats teacher will be gone after today. He says his departure is for personal, not professional reasons, but the students (myself included) guess otherwise.

We spent History of Justice in mock judicial review of the Westboro Baptist Church v. Albert Snyder case. In my opinion, the actions of the church fell outside of the 1st Amendment not regarding freedom of speech, but the right to "peaceably assemble." When you inflict emotional distress and have to regularly ask the police in advance for security during your deomnstrations, I say you ain't peaceful.

We're laying the groundwork for two-person scenes to be written in Dramatic Writing (whose class size is now stable at 4). I need to find a pair of character models.

We now return to your regularly scheduled blog

Today's topic: college griping.

Why do I gripe? I do not like writing these college essays. Not just on principle, but because it feels as though with every college I end up writing the same paragraphs on acting, poetry, acting, Shakespeare, acting, and acting, sometimes two or three times in one app. I can only hope it doesn't look as boring on that end as it feels on this end.

(later)

AT LAST! Every single college application about which I must worry is FINISHED!

[Editor's Note: Barring unforseen or unrecalled circumstaces, you mean.]

[Author's Note: Shut up. *hits editor with frying pan*]

Such classic themes

Semester grades arrived the other day. All things considered, I came through all right, and I'm still on the Dean's List *wipes brow*. But the reason I am posting is one of the comments that came with my grade in Poetry:

"His poems are honest, but deeply personal on the universal themes of love, loneliness, technology, angst of teenage life, repressed emotions, darkness of human nature, and even romantic style gothic ballades."

Wait, back up. Technology? The only poems I can remember writing with any sort of technological bent are The Black Machine, which is symbolic and a reference to Cuckoo's Nest, and my second slam poem, which targets the culture of the Internet. I can't say either of those poems are particularly personal. And since when is technology a universal theme? At any rate, it seems a bit incongruous with its neighbors. *shrug, smile*

When I was a Lad

Greed has overpowered sloth, and the hunt for holiday employment is on. Not much success so far.

Hahaha

First read-through for Urinetown was today, and I can tell that I will enjoy playing Caldwell VERY much. I get to sing a song about killing bunnies, for crying out loud!

Finally we have returned to meditations in Humanitas. Today was more disturbing than previous days. From when I entered the meditation to when I opened my eyes I felt a bit scared for no discernible reason. It was similar to the meditation I tried just before the Friday performance of Cuckoo's Nest. I have identified two recurring figures in these exercises: the zombies and the Black Cloud. I haven't yet figured out what the Black Cloud is, but it's connected to the zombies and I think it has something to do with guilt. I'll have to keep an eye on where I go in upcoming exercises.

The following poem is the result of an exercise during a Shel Silverstein presentation in Poetry:

I'm back, little kid--don't you remember?
I'm the snowman you made and forgot last December.
I started to melt the very next day,
So I hopped on the train to Canada. Eh?
Some older kids wanted to play a mean joke,
So they gave me a beer and taught me to smoke.
My top hat is ragged; my eyes are not coal,
But rather some Agent Smith glasses they stole.
My poor Christmas spirit is as dead as an ember,
So take better care of what you make in December.

If only all colleges were this eager...

Willamette had been placed low enough on my list to drop altogether, but despite my lack of response to their emails they are practically foaming at the mouth to see my application, and now that it's reached the point of waiving both the application fee AND the essay...might as well play the system.

Finished. See post title, please.

And now for something completely different: I got cast as Mr. Caldwell! Yahoo!

And now for something completely the same: Cheswick got cast as a horny guy. This is her fourth consecutive production as a horny guy. What gives?

Life update

So how are things going nowawdays? I'm not sick anymore. That's a good thing, right?

Saturday was a pretty full day. The morning and afternoon were taken up by prep for and the event of a memorial for my grandmother (read: a mass family reunion with hors d'ouvres), and in the evening I met Loyal, Seductress, Rose, Knight, Slasher, Sunshine, Loquacious, Gentleman, and Song (hooray for huge RK gatherings!) at Loyal's house where we watched Youtube clips of Eddie Izzard and the upcoming Sweeney Todd movie--and, of course, the DVD of our King Lear performance. Semi-competent cameraman aside, we actually looked pretty good. Many of us took BART home, and we passed the time singing various songs, most of them Disney. Riotous Knights, it cannot be said how much I love you all! *hugs*

My parents and I were planning to see the remake of Sleuth on Sunday, but it's out of theaters already--a minute at Rotten Tomatoes explained why--so we saw Enchanted instead. I am pleasantly surprised to say that Disney's still got it. It's simultaneously a Disney movie and a parody thereof, and it was done VERY well and humorously. This is a little personal bias sneaking in, but I'm glad that old-fashioned 2-D animation has not been discarded. Er...coincidentally, my required nitpick did involve the CG: Narissa needed to take a few cues from Maleficent in terms of making her draconic form look more threatening and less...Eragon.

In school news, auditions begin tomorrow! Yow! That means I have the rest of this evening to get my monologue memorized (it's about 70% there right now) and until Thursday to polish Master of the House. I will also finish my application for St. John's by Thursday if I know what's good for me.

I hate bronchitis.

Or whatever malaise infests my chest cavity. The coughing has become less frequent, but more painful when it does show up. I didn't see Argonautika on Friday, and I didn't see Pleasanton today (bringing the counter to 6.5 months). I still attended Softy's class, but I tried to avoid physical contact. Most likely I'll take school off tomorrow to recover.

Here's a slam poem I wrote a few days ago for Poetry class. It won't make much sense unless you keep up with Internet fads.

who needs a microscope to examine viruses
when you can examine the internet and find
a teeming mass of memes and message board fads
more than you can fit into a container which you don’t even have because
NOOO THEY BE STEALIN MY BUCKET
you can’t insinuate yourself into that social network without
strapping on your armor of insulation against illiteracy
and running the gauntlet of repetition like
LEEEEROYYYY JENNNNKINNSSSSSSS!!!!!
and once you’ve battled your way through three hundred
jpegs and youtubes
of gerard butler screaming, “THIS! IS! SPARTA!!!”
and that weird little face intent if not hell-bent on-a FIRIN HIS LAZAH
you may be able to locate those rebellious snippets of intelligent conversation
half-buried in hairballs the lolcats coughed up
now I’m not saying the serious threads are any good
most likely they could be spiced up with a little ASCII or
moar Mudkipz which I heard u liek
no argument on the boards is complete without its counter-argument delivered
in the form of a deafening
OBJECTION!!!
by Phoenix Wright pointing his finger so ferociously it may be mistaken for a
FAL-CONE PAUNCH!
which inevitably incites a flame war over the relative manliness of
Captain Falcon to Chuck Norris
who roundhouse kicked the world into existence and don’t you forget it
who WANTS TO BE THE VERY BEST, LIKE NO ONE EVER WAS
then before you can say “you have no chance to survive, make your time”
you are buried in the brawl
between n00bs and trolls
between Star Wars Kid and Potter Puppet Pals
between Captain Planet and an unexpected Jinjo
between Rick Roll and the L-block from Tetris
between the O RLY? owl and badgerbadgerbader
and Gandalf the Grey and Gandalf the White
and Monty Python and the Holy Grail’s Black Knight
all presided over by the prairie dog’s DRAMATIC LOOK
until the sum of banned posters reaches
OVER NINE THOUSAAAAAND!!!
at which point
your computer crashes
your frontal lobes liquefy
and
all your base are belong to us

And I close with another homespun verse to "You Are a Pirate:"

Yo ho, anchors aweigh!
We will find mountains of treasure today.
Drink up the rum till your liver is grey;
You are a pirate!

Zombie boy needs donuts.

What's with the title? I'll explain later.

Night 2 of OFotCN hath been nailed. In my opinion, tonight was even better than last. In particular, I felt that I did a better job in my suicide scene with Ratched. T met with us earlier for character work, which helped us synch up in terms of subtext, but I think that my pre-show meditation attempt was helpful as well.

We've been working on meditation for the last couple of weeks in Humanitas, and in the last two days things have finally started to get interesting. On Thursday I experienced the feeling of my equilibrium going haywire: it was as if I were lying on a platform which kept tilitng and spinning. Aside from the initial shock of what I felt, it was great. Today I was the guinea pig for a dream interpretation. I entered meditation again while Bruce asked me questions about what was in the dream (starting with a recurring dream I had last year) and prompting me to delve deeper into it. I felt some of the spinning again, but also a heaviness and thickness in my body, and I lost track of the location of my arms. I still knew where they were logically, but they felt as though they were in a diferent position. I was still a bit spaced out when I reached advisory, and somebody had brought donuts. The titular quote then escaped my lips.

During some downtime in rehearsal I tried to re-enter the meditative state. My cell phone rang and snapped me out of it, but I could tell that I had dipped a toe into a dark place in my mind. It's an odd mix of the negative emotions you've triggered and the excitement of such delving. I tried to draw upon that place in the performance and I believe it strengthened me.

Tomorrow I will meditate again if I have an opportunity and dive as far as I can. If it gives me tools to push myself to greater emotional extremes, then let my casements be unstopped!

Oh. Here are the notes taken during the dream exercise:

"Forest Cave"

• sky is dark--either evening or early morning
• evergreens
• pine needles--brown on ground, green on trees
• fog but clear where he is
• can see mountain in the distance
• rocks scattered, 1/2 the ize of his body
• stone archway--cave
• more than 30 ft, less than 100 ft away from cave
• only can see 3 ft into cave
• no one around
• water dripping from the roof of the cave
• pebbles on the ground, air clammy, smells like it has been raining in the cave
• 50 ft into the cave, moving slowly
• a lot brighter outside--10 a.m. maybe?
• turning downhill, and narrower
• usually would have noticed zombies by now, but not this time
• some branches off to the sides--a good distance ahead
• the wal of the cave feels smooth, but not flat
• call out: someone responded, "Come on!" in a higher voice.
• Who is it? No voice, but metal banging on stone--follow the sound...
• Taking first branch on the right--cave becoming even narrower
• hole in the ground, otherwise a dead end
• sound coming from the wall behind the hole
• call out..."Come on in; the water's nice."
• dropped a rock in the hole, made a splash
• jumped--water fairly cool, mid-thigh--larger chamber, dry ground a short distance away
• two bodies floating on either side
• face almost as if half done
• hair-black
• corpse
• other body--face down, brown hair, Tshirt and shorts, heavy boots but still floating
• push the one w/ the boots to shore, but very heavy
• anyone else in cave? --> some insects, possibly beetles, but none on or near the ground
• call out...noise comes from straight ahead
• an outline suggesting a door
• arms feels heavier and wider
• ask for person to come out
• door shattered & disappeared
• someone coming out: skinny as a straw, wearing a hat, name given as Sarah but voice like a boy's, in dream because it got lost
• Why calling Peter? ...heard me in cave and hoping to get a ride out
• "Put me in a bottle"--but I don't have a bottle
• About to say something but noticed something, ran off, & jumped up the hole
• blob of orange/yellow light in the next room--> going inside
• Room bigger than the last, 4 pillars, covered in vines, waer ankle deep
• walls retreated & disappeared
• now sees the zombies
• walk over, ask who they are? "Nobody" fell over & began to twitch
• "You dealt with us on the hill before"
• Want me to apoligize for killing them
• Are you willing?
• Have themselves confused with someone else--so "no" I won't apologize
• Ask them for a gift...
• They started screaming
• Tell them they must give you a gift...
• Holding out its hands--growing, extendng from bright blue bulb, no idea what it is--one part hollow
• zombies quiet
• dismiss them--white and frozen, faded away...they're gone

It ended there for class, although Bruce thought there was quite a bit of material we could have uncovered with time. I hope we get back to it next week.

Yee!

Composition class with Softy has begun again! Whee! *runs around hugging random people*

Loyal and Slasher returned as well (as has Sunshine, but she had to miss today for work on Twelfth Night, which is really ironic when you consider that the play we are working on in class is Twelfth Night), and we got Knight, Song, and Gift, Lantern's younger sister, and a new girl. Apparently another guy signed up for the class, but as he was also absent I am currently the sole source of testosterone. Not that it matters; when I'm with the Venetians (it's easier to say "Venetians" than "Venetians and/or Riotous Knights," so that's what I'm sticking with) I don't even pay attention to gender categories. I just become smiley with the knowledge that I'm around such incredible people again.

Today's class included warmups Softy-style (oh, how I miss those warmups!), five minutes of automatic writing (either I'm a really slow writer or everyone else is really fast) and soundscapes using Orsino's opening monologue. A bit of angelic chorus may have snuck into ours. *shifty eyes*

No more class until Saturday, but until then it's all theater all the time (Cuckoo's Nest performs this week!), so I may be able to survive. Then again, I may not (see yesterday).

On the notes of theater and survival, I am sharpening my knife for immediate post-performance use on our line-shoddy Harding and McMurphy (mostly Harding). Ooh, that reminds me: Vein #11 from yesterday was that Ruckley dropped the play outright. LESS THAN A WEEK BEFORE OPENING NIGHT! Sure, he has very little blocking, and the only thing he ever says is, "Fuck 'em all!", but it's the principle! This is why one maps out one's conflicts BEFORE getting cast!

Enough angry posting. I want to smile some.

But I don't have time. Shakespeare Honors work needs to be finished, and then shower. Mister Emoticon will smile for me.

^_^

10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!

Why are all these veins in my neck standing out? Don't get me started (too late).

Vein #1. No meditation today, so that much less time to simply relax.

Vein #2. I had to turn in some ten sheets of college paperwork.

Vein #3. A schoolwide (hum!) conspiracy has led to FOUR essays being assigned in the same time frame.

Vein #4. That time frame is PERFORMANCE WEEK, where I stay at school until ten o'clock every night.

Vein #5. Therefore I had to run around begging teachers for extensions, one of whom I had to simultanteously ask for a letter of recommendation that I had assumed on other paperwork she would write.

Vein #6. We had a quiz in Statistics.

Vein #7. We had a test in Shakespeare.

Vein #8. Rehearsal ended nearly half an hour before I had projected.

Vein #9. While running Lear monologues in an attempt to blow off steam I blanked on a word in one of the lines I've run the most for at least ten minutes. (She hath...she hath...ABATED! SHE HATH ABATED ME OF HALF MY TRAIN!!!)

Vein #10. At the last minute I realized that I still had not given T the last piece of paperwork, which meant sprinting back up to our remote theater.

By 4:00 I was foaming at the mouth. Literally.

Disintegrations

During meditations today I had some more images of my body coming apart, and Bruce suggested I start keeping a journal of them. Here's what I've seen so far:

1. The aforementioned "sand crumbling."
2. Cracks radiating from my face across my body with black syrup flowing from the cracks.
3. My body slowly being vanished by fire from the feet up. Okay, at least I know where this one came from. It was the image in my head during the "blow, wind, and crack your cheeks" monologue.
4. A small grey whirlpool appearing at my center and growing.
5. My body tightening and contracting until it shattered like a block of ice.
6. Expanding and widening, but losing its substance simultaneously until it faded away completely, revealing a shriveled, spaghetti-thin version of my body as what might have been the frame.
7. A tiny hole opening in my forehead from which reality fountained.
8. Collapsing into a pile of children's blocks.

'Tis strange. Now to sing, take a shower, and see what the night has in store.

(insert topic title here)

I returned from college visits last night, including Reed (spent the night there), Sarah Lawrence (didn't see Bedlam or Atlas there, sadly), Lewis & Clark, and Occidental. All of them continue to look superb from the educational standpoint, so where I go will most likely come down to where I can most easily live. SL takes a hit for the food quality.

On a downward note, on Sunday I came down with the Mordor Mystery Malady that has plagued me twice before. This time may have been the worst ever; it took a long time for the shot to kick in, and at one point I started shaking uncontrollably. Fortunately I had recovered by the next morning, and Sunday was the only day we had no obligations. So it could have gone a lot worse.

It rained lightly today. Vince, seeing me in a T-shirt and exhibiting no sings of freezing, maintains his theory that I can feel no discomfort, in support of which he cites a day in Physics I have forgotten wherein I spent notable amounts of time conducting electrical current without bothing to ground myself. I do not remember this, but I do remember hogging the mini-Tesla coil. One of my classmates asked me to step away so he could have a turn at it, and as he did so, he reached for my arm. *BZZT...smolder*

Lesson learned: You don't touch anyone who has been gathering electricity for more than a minute running.

I have homework to do, poems to finish.