A Common Household Scene

(It is a Tuesday afternoon, and BRIANNA returns home after spending time at the local library (not the one she planned on visiting), applying for a job.  Note, "a job" because the application for that one stinking job took an eternity to fill out.  When we find BRIANNA, she is laying on her back on the hardwood floor of her family's kitchen while her father passes by to get to the family's computer room.  DAD is not paying attention, but doesn't step on her because that would absolutely awful.  MOM is chopping onions on the counter nearby.)

BRIANNA:  (undisguisedly pleased with herself) I applied for a job today!

DAD:  And?

BRIANNA:  And...I applied for a job today!

DAD:  And?

BRIANNA:  ...um.  It's not--

DAD:  Did you get it?

BRIANNA:  It's not an instantaneous thing...

MOM:  Now's the waiting game, dear.

DAD:  Oh.

MOM:  You're starting to sound like a Millennial.

BRIANNA:  Ouch.  On behalf of my generation, I am injured that you would call him one...

MOM:  Isn't it the Millennials that want everything to happen right away?

BRIANNA:  Maybe?  Did you also know that the older generations think we're shitty?  Thanks...thanks a lot.

(BRIANNA lays back on the cool floor as DAD heads over to play on the computer and watch drum solos of Katy Perry songs.  MOM continues chopping onions.

Scene.)

If I told you that this is a common conversation in my house, you probably wouldn't be surprised.  Well, if you know myself and my parents at all.  Okay, maybe the Millennial comment is unusual, but the rest of it is right on.  I just thought it was important to include everything in the conversation if only to get a decent length for this post.  Yup.

I really wish that this wasn't a common conversation.  What can I say, I'd like to be lauded for my single job application because it was for Walgreens, and it took me two hours to do.

So...what am I really supposed to say to that single word question: "And?"  I guess I can think of a couple things:
-  "And I heard that the Blackhawks lost, that's a serious bummer, right?"
-  "And the weather's pretty nice, did you need me to pick up sticks in the backyard?  I'm just going to go do that..."
-  "And I actually heard back from them at the exact moment that I pressed the submit button, and good news, I'm moving out and I'll have a pay check that's six figures!"

Really?  This is going to be a recurring rant until about the time when I get a job, and by then, it's going to be a rant about how my parents hate my job because it makes me poor, or how I hate my job because it eats my soul.  So anyway, I understand that my father wants me to have a job.  At least, that's the only assumption that I can make from this single word question, because it doesn't really sound like he's saying, "Rah, rah, good job, Brianna!  Go you for applying for a job!"  I mean, I would know how to respond to that, I would just beam happily and preen.  Why yes, I did apply for a job, thanks for noticing, would you like my autograph too?  So...why exactly is my father demonstrating more impatience with my situation than I am?  Is he really that eager to get me out of his house?  Just curious.

On another note, I had a really awful dream about our house burning down, and my thought in my dream was "Shit, I only have one copy of every poem I've ever written for the Poem-A-Day Project."  Because part of me fears this is my seer potential tapping into prophecy that something terrible's going to happen to my hard copies, I'm typing up every single poem I've written and uploading them to Google Drive!  Who's excited to read all of these poems again and get them into some cohesive order?  THIS POET!  Yup.  That's the plan.

"What good has impatience ever brought?  It has only served as the mother of mistakes and the father of irritation."

- Steve Maraboli

Easy Street...

This morning, I watched an episode of Glee because I was behind.  I'm all caught up, except for the episode that I missed...last night.  Because of reasons unknown.  So the last episode I saw was Lights Out.

Not only did I cry when Santana rediscovered her inner child and admit that she's trying to figure out what she wants (because heck, I can relate), but I also marveled at Coach Sue singing "Little Girls" from Annie.

I was in Annie once.  Back in elementary school.  Sixth grade, to be exact.  I played Lily St. Regis.  Don't remember who that is?  Take a look at this clip.  Kristin Chenoweth, the blonde in the pink silk?  Yeah.  That was me.  In sixth grade.

For those of you unfamiliar with Annie, the basic premise is that there's this orphan, see?  She gets adopted by this fat cat from 5th Avenue.  But Miss Hannigan and her swindling brother, Rooster (along with his new gal, Lily St. Regis), figure they can make Annie's life miserable and also get some money out of the fat cat in the process.

Lily's one of the villains.  As a rule, it's always more fun to play a villain than it is to play the hero.  Because villains are significantly more interesting.  The hero has to be all pure and stuff, but the villain, well, they get to laugh maniacally and torture small animals.

I don't know if you noticed, but Lily's also a total hooker.  I knew this in sixth grade.  I'm not sure how I knew this, but I did.  I ended up wearing a boa that shed feathers EVERYWHERE onstage and off, these killer black boots with pointy toes, and a drawn on beauty mark.  Over my real beauty mark.  It was definitely the best thing ever.  I also attempted an accent and tried to sound like Kristin Chenoweth.  I don't know how well I did, but I do remember improvising a line that pissed off Miss Hannigan because well, you never learned Lily's name, and I thought that that was a major oversight of the script writers of Annie Jr.

Speaking of Miss Hannigan...the girl who played her was in my class.  She had a killer voice, but she also got stage fright.  For some reason, at that time, I didn't really have that problem.  I'm not proud of it, but there was a point maybe a month away from the show when I tried to convince her to hand over her part and I could play Miss Hannigan.  Because even as a little girl, I was a conniving spotlight-wanter.  Because of all that, I should probably add that classmate to the list of people who probably hated me at the time because I was implying that I could play her part better than she was playing it even though sixth grade Brianna just thought she was being nice and doing a favor for a friend by letting her off easy and taking on the burden of a larger role myself.  I honestly don't know what in my little sixth grade brain told me that that was okay to do.  Given the chance, I would love to apologize for being a jerk, though I probably wouldn't have the guts to do it.

On the bright side, I've grown up, and though I would still kill to play Miss Hannigan, I'm not too fond of the musical she comes from.  Maybe it's because I spent WAY too many months listening to the soundtrack on loop or going through my lines in sixth grade.  Or maybe it's because if I ever got back into theatre and landed a part in Annie, I would have to reconcile the fact that I'd probably be upstaged and outshone by a little girl and a dog.  Yup.  Because that's how that musical works.

Happy Friday!  [this is when Brianna realizes that it's Friday and she could have read a poem.  Oh well...]

"Leapin' lizards!"

- Annie

Something Old: Eden's Diner

AMIE

An entire book in one week.  That’s unbelievable!

CLANCY

(mumbling under AMIE’s comments)

It’s impossible.  Insanity.  It can’t be done.

AMIE

Any idea what you’re going to do?

CLANCY

No. (sits)  I have nothing.  It’s impossible.  A WHOLE book in a single week?  (Rests forehead on the table)  Nothing’s coming to me.

AMIE

That’s called writer’s block.  Nothing ever comes to you.  You always need to find a “muse.”  But you’re just stressed out.  And you can’t write about nothing.  Why don’t you write about…a writer with writer’s block?

CLANCY

 (rests chin on the table, after a pause)

That sounds oddly familiar…But you know I can’t leave my protagonist alive at the end.

AMIE

He could kill himself.

CLANCY

No.

(forehead on the table)

AMIE

Alright.  Then why don’t you write about that murder that happened recently?

CLANCY

What murder?

AMIE

Didn’t you hear?

(REPORTER enters, and CLANCY isn’t really paying attention.)

REPORTER

This just in.  (mouths words) of (mouths)  Publishing Company has just been found in his office with several bizarre stab wounds in his back.  No word yet on possible suspects or the weapon used in this murder, OR when it could have occurred, but we will keep you updated.

In other news, theatre students from Loyola Academy---

AMIE

(cutting off REPORTER.  REPORTER exits.) 

It’s either that one or the one involving the cat.

CLANCY

 (chin on the table)

 I wouldn’t know which one to pick.

AMIE

You should definitely go with the backstabber.  (Gestures vaguely.) There seems to be a lot of explanation needed for that one.

CLANCY

(Pause)

And the cat murder is self-explanatory?

AMIE

(shrugs)

It’d make a good story.  Use your imagination.

CLANCY

You sound like a kindergarten teacher.  It’s impossible.  I could never pull it off with so little time.

Pause

Well, what are you going to do?

AMIE

I’ve got a couple ideas I’ve been tossing around.  I’m just worried about where you’re going to find inspiration.  For the sake of competition, of course.  I mean, I hate to beat you without you even trying.

CLANCY

 (Sarcastic)

 Of course.  I’ll think of something.  Possibly.  Maybe I’ll find something under “inspiration” in the yellow pages.

Theatrical and Writing Concerns

So I started this post during my last semester of college and left it as a draft.  It kinda feels like I should finish it.

...

This morning I awoke at my usual 7 AM (today to the sounds of the Tangled soundtrack) because I'm participating in the 24 hour theatre fest.  It's exactly what it sounds like.  In 24 hours, a bunch of people write, direct and act in a series of short plays.  The most intense part (I think) is that the writers stayed up for quite a long time last night writing our plays.  Today is the first day that I'm thankful I'm not a writer.  Today I'm just an actor, so I can take directions and do what I'm told and get feedback, no worries about people misinterpreting what I write or butchering my lines.

It's a glorious feeling.  I feel free.

But the real fact of the matter is that I am a writer.  Maybe not for this show, but for the show of life, I'm writing the script, and half of the lines need to be cut.  They're not that good.  I've been writing a lot.  As my loyal readers know, I've been writing a poem a day since the beginning of September, and there's no end it sight quite yet.  I've noticed that a lot of my poems are influenced by what's going on in my life at the time of writing.  I had a whole series of zombie related poems when my university was playing a game called Humans versus Zombies, and I have a short bunch of poems that feature or are indirectly related to the boy I started seeing about two days after I started the Poem-a-Day project.

A good many of my poems are products of my distress.  I frequently get flustered or stressed out, and instead of buckling down and committing to doing my homework, I write poetry.  If you're friends with me, chances are you've shown up in my writing in some capacity, though I try my best not to consciously do that.  But a lot of times I'm worried/concerned/hurt/stressed/distressed, so I have to get the words down on paper.  And I can't help but wonder if there will ever be a time when it would be appropriate to show the objects of these poems the poetry that was written about them.  Mostly because I'm at this stage in my writing where I want to show everyone everything, dance around and sing, "Aren't I brilliant?"  Even though I would never admit to it if they told me I was.  The answer I've come to is "probably not, Brianna" because I can't for certain determine what the objects of poetry might read in the piece, and I don't want to create awkward situations.

...

Now that I've gotten to a point where there have been distinctive shifts in my life and situation, I've been writing a lot about my daily life which isn't too thrilling.  And I've learned that a break up can be really great fodder for ideas, even though you have to jump over the cliche hurdles to get to anything good.  So I find myself thinking...would I want to show anyone those poems much less the person they're about?  Yeah, I think it would be safe to say that that would be awkward.  Even if I wasn't purposely writing about a person, if I wrote something that they could interpret as about them...emotional distress.  I know this partially from experience and partially because I'm self-centered.

So it all boils down to even though I can crow, "Oh the cleverness of me!" I can't show the subjects of my poetry those poems.  I just can't.  So if I'm looking for feedback...I better pray that those feedback givers don't show up in my poetry because I don't want to make them feel uncomfortable unnecessarily   All uncomfortability must come from necessity, naturally!  Gosh!  When it's all over, when I'm done being broken up about a break up or done feeling betrayed or abandoned by close friends or done being over the moon excited about an unpaid internship, even when the feelings are gone, they're still going to be stuck to the page of the poem, so even if I say, "Hey, I don't feel this miserable/happy/whateveremotionapplies anymore," the reader could still read into it.  And then misunderstanding.  Or worse, understanding.  Understanding that maybe they made me feel that way, and then guilt.  And no one wants that.  Well, at least I don't want people to feel guilty.

Decision: Choose your audience wisely, Brianna.  The end.

"Poetry is an act of peace.  Peace goes into the making of a poet as flour goes into the making of bread."

- Pablo Neruda

The Teen Section

(BRIANNA enters her local library in search of a book that she's been trying to get her hands on for the past two weeks so she can participate in another library's book discussion.  All bundled up in her green army jacket, Doctor Who inspired scarf, gloves, and a purple knit cap, BRIANNA quickly locates the book she's looking for and tucks it under her arm for safe-keeping while she browses another section of the library.

When this scene begins we find BRIANNA standing in front of a short set of shelves with books in them.  Over the shelves is a banner that reads "TEEN SECTION.")

(BRIANNA is considering the books in front of her, thinking that she's getting one book already and she has another half a dozen at home, so what would be the point in getting more.  She's just replaced a book on the shelf when LIBRARIAN approaches her.)

LIBRARIAN:  Can I help you find something or are you just browsing?

BRIANNA:  (startled by the sudden appearance of LIBRARIAN)  Oh!  No thank you, I'm just browsing.

LIBRARIAN:  Okay, because you do know this is the teen section...

(BRIANNA is confused and opens her mouth to say something just as LIBRARIAN continues speaking.)

LIBRARIAN:  Oh, you must have a teen at home.

BRIANNA:  I--I'm only just recently "not a teen"...

LIBRARIAN:  Oh, you just like--you like reading...well, keep reading!  (she smiles cheerfully and turns away)

(BRIANNA, completely astounded by the interaction leaves the library at a brisk walk.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yes.  I am 22 and I still read books that are shelved in the "teen section."  If someone out there in the world can give me a legitimate reason as to why this is a bad thing, then maybe I will consider stopping, but taking into account that the book I was holding I had retrieved from the adult fiction section, and also that I was not planning on getting another teen book this time around, I'm thinking that there should be some more slack cut here.  And it should also be noted that if I did indeed have a "teen at home," I'm pretty sure that they could pick out their own books so "Mommy" could go find books of her own in the middle of the day on a weekday.

Does age level matter when it comes to reading when truly good and meaningful books should be able to translate to multiple levels of readers and ages?  Should librarians monitor the people checking out books that are considered "teen books"?  If so, where does the monitoring stop, will parents be able to check out picture books for their younger children?  Why can't everyone just read what they want to read?!

"The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid."

- Jane Austen

Complimentary, My Dear Watson

Here we are again, using a prompt from my mysterious prompt box.

Today's prompt: Write about some compliments people have given you.

I've been told that I have "presence."  I do enjoy the spotlight, so I'm glad that people think that I can command attention.  What's interesting about that is how I identify as an introvert, but I'm pretty okay at pretending that I'm an extrovert.  So when I get compliments about how people think I perform well or that I have a sort of charisma, I'm hugely flattered because that's not something I would naturally attribute to myself.

I have a poem about nerds that I wrote for my Stand Up Poetry class, and I particularly enjoy reading it because I get a lot of compliments on it.  Denise Duhamel said that she liked my title, "Nerds Do It by the Book," and Matt Guenette said that he wanted to steal the line "***SPOILER ALERT!***" from me.  It was the very first poem in my university's literary magazine one semester, and people came up to me on campus and told me that it was hilarious, that it made them want to read more in the magazine, that they read it aloud to their friends and everyone thought it was funny.  The biggest compliment that I got for that poem was a date, which was pretty awesome.

I also have a friend who told me I "fascinate" her and that I'm "pretty damn amazing."  I remember these compliments word for word because I wrote them down in a notebook, not believing that I could possibly be that awesome, especially not in the eyes of someone who I regarded so highly.  I may have kept those quotes written on the mirror in my room for some time because every time I thought about them, I smiled.

For my last compliment I need to tell you that in high school, I did a lot of theatre.  I feel like every time I talk about my theatre days I probably sum it up by saying that I "did a lot," but that's really just the prologue to this semi-story.

My junior year of high school, we did a production of The Laramie Project for our fall play.  For anyone who knows what the play/movie is about, you'll  know that it's a pretty heavy play for a high school to put on, but every other year we did a drama, and that was ours that year.  In summary that does little to no justice to the beauty of the story, it's about the murder of a homosexual student in Wyoming, and how his death brings together the community of Laramie.  It was a very small cast, so that meant everyone was playing about 4-6 different characters throughout the two hour show.  One of my characters was a friend of one of the murderers.  I played her as a drunk/high undereducated foul-mouthed bigot.  It was a good time.  Well at the end of the production during our pizza party, the senior class gives out unofficial awards to everyone in the cast and crew.  I received the award for, "Playing 'drugged out' a little too good."  And that was one of the best compliments I got for that performance.

"It's a great mistake for men to give up paying compliments, for when they give up saying what is charming, they give up thinking what is charming."

- Oscar Wilde

Shakespeare and Boccaccio

Q:  So what are you up to nowadays?

A:  Well.  I'm sitting around worrying about The Future, spending time worrying about my business stats test instead of actually attempting to start studying for it, agonizing over my management "double-weighted" quiz that'll be on the same day as my stats test, and then I'm thinking a lot about Shakespeare.

Q:  That's nothing new, you might as well stop typing now.

A:  Yeah okay.

So I have a paper for my Shakespeare class.  I'm going to write it on Cymbeline, which I'm really excited about because it's a really weird play.  Not even the critics really know what to do with it because no one really knows what genre it belongs in.  Our book classifies it as a romance, so that means there's going to be love and shenanigans, no one's going to die, and everyone's going to live happily ever after.  Right?

Wrong.  There are at least two deaths, one of them being a suicide and the other one featuring a headless body that stays on stage for a little bit to cuddle with the female lead.

I also have a huge problem with the play being called Cymbeline after a secondary character because I'm still trying to figure out what his significance to the play is.  Mostly because I've given myself permission to not think about him up until now.

But I'm writing my paper about women.  And Shakespeare's source material.  Because it's a little known fact to people who know Shakespeare's stories but aren't familiar with the history behind them that Shakespeare never really came up with his own plots.  Due to copyright laws being nonexistent in Shakespearean times, he could pick and choose plots that struck his fancy from other people's works, and no one could say a word about it.  Better than that, if people recognized the source material they could gloat and talk about how clever they were that they actually knew where the plot came from.

A large part of Shakespeare's plot for Cymbeline centers around a wager that Posthumus (what a horrid name) makes with Iachimo based on the chastity of Posthumus' wife.  Because yes, you can be chaste when you're married.  So this plot actually came from Giovanni Boccaccio's The Decameron, which I learned through a very quick Google search while my school's library website wasn't working for me.  It's interesting that in the original story, the character upon whom Posthumus is based brags about how his wife possesses all of the best virtues that a woman can possess, and additionally the virtues that a knight or squire might possess.  Whoa, crazy!  I'm not sure if Shakespeare keeps this comparison, but if he doesn't, this is going to be perfect for my paper.  It's interesting that Boccaccio would go so far as to allow a character to bestow the virtues of a man upon his wife because I highly doubt that Boccaccio was a feminist in the contemporary sense.  Maybe he's saying that to show how absurd the character's bragging is.  "Anyone who would think to claim that women have the same virtues as men is clearly addled."  This seems plausible.

So it begins.  My lovely to do list unfolds:
- study for business stats in any manner possible
- study and read for management, pray that the questions aren't absurd
- write a paper for Shakespeare
- critique fiction

"I thought her

as chaste as unsunned snow."

- William Shakespeare, Cymbeline, 2.5

Clue Night

After all the hard work on the script, organizing people, advertising, and all that jazz (although I only really helped substantially with the script), International Clue Night will take off tomorrow night.

So there are a couple really cool things about International Clue Night.  For me, one of the first cool things is working with my friend to write the script.  I helped write last year, so we kind of knew how the other one worked when we came to the process this year.  What made this year so different is that Family Weekend is so early (and that's when Clue takes place).  It's this weekend.  Usually it's late October.  So basically we had a lot less time to work.  But that meant that we got to spend a TON of time together working on the script.  And no joke, plotting out this script was SO much fun!  This friend and I play really well off each other, and we're really good at asking each other questions when something doesn't make sense.  We took a good long time outlining the plot before we even thought about writing the script or describing characters, and that was because of how Clue Night works.  It's mostly because we need to make sure we know everything about the mystery even if the audience doesn't know everything.  We also need to make sure that we know what's getting revealed when, and that it all works and makes sense.  Lots of thinking of "motives."

The most common motives that I could think of were:
- money
- revenge
- blind rage
- jealousy
- insanity

And you can only use those so many times.  So thank goodness I wasn't alone, or the plot would have been so linear and boring.  I really enjoy my friend, she's a truly brilliant writer, and it's an amazing experience to be able to work with her!

AND this year I get to act.  I acted my sophomore year as the CEO's daughter who was about to succeed her father as CEO and change the entire company into an environmentally radical company.  I was part of the reason my father ended up dead.  Oops.  I also got to do the big "reveal" at the end of the show, explaining about how clever I was and how I figured out that China was the murderer.  Well, China the representative...
Last year I was out of town for a conference, so I couldn't act, but I did help write.  The daughter was the killer that year...
And as I was saying...this year I get to act.  And I'm Switzerland, the land of cheese, chocolate, and knives... Needless to say, I'm absolutely thrilled.  I haven't acted in ages (as I've said in blog posts gone by...), so it'll be good to get back "onstage," and even better because of how unique this show is with regards to audience interaction and the like.  SO exciting!

The Motorist: Where is it?

Wadsworth: What?  The body?

The Motorist: The phone.  What body?

Wadsworth: There's no body.  Nobody.  There's--there's nobody in the study.

- CLUE (the movie)

LOST: Theatre Persona

As most people who know me know, I did theatre in high school.  Well, maybe I didn't just do theatre.  If I'm going to be completely honest, I lived theatre throughout high school.  I even started spelling "theatre" the British way, as you can tell.  All through my high school days, if I wasn't at home doing homework, chances are I was at school rehearsing for some show.  And I was in a lot of shows.  There was a comedy or drama in the fall, and then a musical in the spring.  And I was in six out of eight of those during my high school career.  And then I participated in the One Act Festival and I auditioned for shows that were directed by seniors during the weird times of the year.

So I did a lot of acting.

When I was looking at colleges, I was looking for someplace where I could do theatre, though part of me must have known that I didn't really want to study it as a major because I never committed.  I just went to college "undecided."  I always looked for opportunities to act, like a television show for our campus TV station, or the Fundamentals of Acting class that I took my sophomore year...(that class was SO elementary...).  But I never declared that I wanted to study theatre, so it never really happened.  The last time I officially acted was sophomore year for International Clue Night.  I was a British heiress who was environmentally crazy.  It was awesome.

But the last time I was on stage was Friday.  And that's because my friend beckoned me onstage so she could "sing" to me.  And I came to the conclusion that it was both terrifying and exhilarating.  Because though I couldn't stop shaking (for reasons unknown, though I'm attributing it to stage fright), it was still one of the most exciting things I had done to date, even if I just stood there.

So now, of course, I'm thirsty for more.  I haven't acted in a really long time, and I'm wondering if any time I step on stage from here on out I'll experience stage fright.  Because you know, I've never shaken that much when I was on stage before.  Maybe I'm just out of practice.  Or maybe it was excitement, not stage fright?  Who knows.

Bright side, I will for sure be acting in this year's International Clue Night because I scheduled my life around it this year.  There's nothing standing in my way at this point.  No conferences, no camping trips, no duty nights...I'll be here for six shows in the International House, playing whatever part I end up writing for myself.  Sure, I have my eye on a role, but I'm a little worried that I'm being greedy with wanting that particular role.  Only because someone else was semi-committed to it.  And Brianna whines, "I want it!"

So we'll see how that goes.  Stage fright or excitement?  That is the question.

"The theater is so endlessly fascinating because it's so accidental.  It's so much like life."

- Arthur Miller

Hitchkratz's Guide to the Galaxy: Grimm Theatre

The Hitchkratz's Guide to the Galaxy's entry on "Grimm Theatre" is a bit spotty, but supplemented by first hand experience from one of the Guide's field writers.

Today marks the end of my fourth year directing fairy tales for The Grimm Players, a troupe of actors I organized.  Considering this is the end of a summer's worth of hard work, I feel that I should be sad or depressed.  It's not that it was a burden, so I'm not jumping up with joy that it's over, but I'm glad that we finished up successfully.  I'm proud of our group and all that we've accomplished within the past four summers.  We started out as a group of four actors performing three fairy tales written and directed by one me. Oh, and four milk crates.  And by now we've expanded to six actors, three writers, two directors, and six milk crates.  We have truly grown in size, talent, creativity, and innovation.  Today I can safely say that I've never been prouder of that little troupe that I started and how far we've come since the summer of 2008.  To put it simply, we're amazing.  There's no room for modesty here, we really are amazing.  While I've had nothing to do outside of this pursuit due to my unemployment and inactivity, my actors have juggled this commitment plus full time summer jobs, summer classes, drivers ed., and family commitments.  I really appreciate everything these talented people have brought to this project.  And all that's left to say is "Well done!" (Field Agent 061508, writer/director/producer of The Grimm Players)

 The Hitchkratz's Guide to the Galaxy would like to apologize that this entry is full of incomprehensible and partially sentimental nonsense, but that is where the entry ends.  A new field agents is scheduled to be assigned to this entry during a summer some time in the year 3025.  Thank you.

"What an excellent day for an exorcism."

- The Brothers Grimm (movie)

Just a Fairy Tale

Q:  What ever happened to your theatrics from high school?  You were an actor?  Whaaaa?

A:  Yes.  I was an actor in high school.  I did theatre all four years at school, taking part in a number of "straight plays" as well as musicals.  I really grew as a theatre person throughout those four years, going from playing little parts my freshman year to playing character bits in junior and senior year.  By then I probably played a grand total of 3 old ladies, as it kind of became my specialty.  I wouldn't say that I was particularly good, just that I had a ton of fun and I really enjoyed myself.  In addition to my acting pursuits, I also wrote a couple one act plays and directed a couple scenes and plays.  I stage managed a couple shows and things too, but I feel like that doesn't really count because I wasn't too good at it.

So after high school I went on to college and became an English major, and that's where my theatrics went.  To the wayside.  For all intents and purposes.  Sure, I still wanted to act, but I was on the outside of the theatre department, so I was left out of the loop when it came to figuring out when auditions were, what shows were, etc., etc.

Over the summer it was a different story.  Summer of 2008, I began The Grimm Players as part of my Girl Scout Gold Award.  I wrote adaptations of three fairy tales (Rapunzel, Rumpelstiltskin, and The Fisherman and His Wife) for the stage, modernized them a bit, and added in some environmental bent to a couple of them, and recruited four actors to perform them at my local library.  Ever since then, The Grimm Players have been invited back to perform over the summer, and every year we've come up with new fairy tales to perform, so by now I've got a good nine fairy tales that we've adapted for the stage.  And I say "we" because by the second summer I began sharing writing duties with members of the group because they had shown an interest in writing.

This summer, I'm a little pressed for time, and so I'm writing my adaptation right now.  My brother craned over my shoulder and asked if it was for school.

"No, it's for the fairy tale thing that I do over the summer," I answered, scribbling a bit more on my adaptation of Stone Soup.

"Oh.  When are you just going to make that into a business and start charging?"

So that got me thinking.  We've been doing this for four years, well, this'll be our fourth summer, and our library liaison has said more than once that he wished he could pay us.  But what if there were people who could?  People or organizations, that is.  What if The Grimm Players became a theatre company?  I could use it to support my horrible writing "habit" as I write the next great American novel, because theatre is such a lucrative industry.  I've taken an Entrepreneurship class, so I know the basics of writing a business plan, so what else is there?  Obviously a ton of money would have to go into it, and I'd have to find enough dedicated people willing to take zero paycheck for goodness only knows how long, but how cool would that be?!  We could be a travelling troupe and perform in tiny little venues for little children.  Maybe we could even go to schools and encourage kids to get into theatre.  Of course, that would mean more writing, and possibly branching out from the Brothers Grimm umbrella.  Or actually spending money on costuming or props.  But in the grand scheme of things, wouldn't it be more interesting to watch a minimalist version of stories that are so well known?  And then there's always the fact that we could bring more obscure stories to light.  We could do five stories in a set, expanding the show to a whole hour...

Definitely something to consider.

Monday Wishes

Wish I was here...

This is my Monday Wish. I wish I was here. Well, there.

Meet Doctor Who. Doctor Who is a British science fiction series that started back in the 1960s and ran until the mid-1980s, if I'm not mistaken. The reason the producers could run it for so long is because The Doctor (the main character) is a Time Lord (aka not human) and every time he "dies," he actually "regenerates," giving him a new face and allowing the producers to hire a new actor. Which is really clever, if you ask me. The Doctor you see above is the 10th Doctor as played by David Tennant. After the Doctor Who movie, the show went on a hiatus until about 2005 when it was brought back with the 9th Doctor played by Christopher Eccleston. Long story short, this is part of the new series, and a lot of younger folk whose parents might have watched the original series are getting into the show. It's run on BBC and BBC America, and if you don't have access to either of those, you can watch it instantly on your computer through Netflix. Thank you, Netflix!

But back to my wish. I wish I was there, right next to The Doctor. Or maybe off to the side and out of the camera's reach. You see, The Doctor has these companions who he takes on all these adventures through time and space, and I want to be his companion. Not just on the set, but in real life. I want to step inside that funny blue box and gasp, "It's bigger on the inside!" and really take off to some unknown planet. I can just imagine what my first meeting with The Doctor would be like:

(A college residence hall building in the United States. Midwest. If you looked out a window and squinted enough, you might be able to see corn fields. Inside, on a floor lined with doors, the TARDIS sits situated directly between the doors labelled 408 and 412. The Doctor is hanging half out of the door to the TARDIS, seemingly adjusting the door which doesn't seem to be cooperating. He's mumbling about the queen and how he had promised that he would be at the wedding, but the TARDIS has been unreliable of late.)

(The door that opens onto the floor squeaks open and slams shut behind a 20-something year old girl with golden blonde hair and black plastic rimmed glasses. She doesn't notice the TARDIS at first because she's digging in her backpack for her keys. By now the TARDIS door is completely open and The Doctor is puttering around behind it. The girl, seeing the light spilling from inside the TARDIS thinks it's her door that's already open, and turns to enter the TARDIS. Once inside, she looks around, takes in the control panel and the size of the place and shakes her head. She walks out and The Doctor pokes his head out from behind the door. The girl walks in again and her jaw drops.)

The Doctor: Excuse me, I hate to be rude and all, but people don't usually just walk into other people's police boxes...

Brianna: Sorry, you're parked in front of my room.

The Doctor: Am I? (crosses the center bit of the TARDIS and opens up a door on the other side that didn't previously exist, exposing a bland door covered in colorful labels heralding it to be "Brianna"'s room) So I am.

Brianna: Do you know how long you're going to be? Because I have class in half an hour.

The Doctor: Well, it could take a while. Well...maybe not. You might as well stay for lunch. And then...come with me?

Brianna: Go with you where?

The Doctor: Anywhere. Anywhen. You pick!

Brianna: Sure! Mind if I get my knitting?

The Doctor: Not at all! What are you knitting?

Brianna: A Doctor Who scarf.

Scene.

Okay, maybe it would be a little better than that. Because The Doctor might actually be a little more confused, and I wouldn't be nearly as bland. Well, in the second draft of my wish it'll be better, that's for certain.

Anyway, I would love to travel with The Doctor. Run around while being chased by strange looking aliens that really just want to be loved, meet The Master and find a way to defeat him...again, explore the endless corridors in the TARDIS and check out that swimming pool and library The Doctor's been talking about... I want to visit the Medieval era just for a little bit because I wouldn't want to stay some place that was so ridiculously patriarchal. And the 1920s in Chicago so I could dance like a flapper. He would take me to planets on the other side of the galaxy where the grass is purple and everything has a pink tint to it. I would be scared out of my wits and have a bucketful of fun. He'd call me clever, and I'd say he was crazy, and we'd zip off on another adventure.

"Not impossible, just...a bit unlikely!

- The Doctor

Enthusiasm

Sometimes I get excited or do things that confirm my nerdiness. For example, merely knowing the date of Towel Day/Geek Pride Day...

One of the most recent examples of my nerdiness displays has been with the final assignment for my class. I'm taking Introduction to Dramatic Literature. So I already geeked out over reading Hamlet AND over finding all the references to eyes, blindness and seeing in Oedipus the King. On top of it, we have to do this final project type thing. One of the options is to re-write one act of one of the plays that we read, adapting it into a different genre/style. Now anyone who knows me will know that I adore the idea of adaptations. Just look at my past two summers for evidence.
So sharing this excitement is interesting because no one knows what I'm talking about. Because I'm going to adapt a Medieval drama into a modern comedy. And I already have all sorts of ideas to keep it from getting preachy. Which is always good when adapting morality plays for modern audiences, I find. :^P It's just coming together really well in my head, and I can only hope it'll come together on paper as well!