I will talk about the nice, fun stuff.
First off: Article 19 had it's Open Mic fundraiser.
My friend Reece and I recently watched one of our favorite movies, That Thing You Do. He learned it on the guitar and then dedicated it to me at the event! SO SWEET!
Here's his funkified version:
Here's the original for reference:
It was all very sweet and nice.
Since then...not much has happened. A few very chill Beyond Imagination rehearsals here and there.
But last night, one of the drama societies, Infinity Stage Company, that makes major donations to charities, hosted a Monologue Monday event, and I was talked into doing a monologue. I had to follow Tommy's amazing Pitchfork Disney monologue. The boy IS going to drama school, I swear.
I did a monologue from Nicky Silver's Beautiful Child. I'd never actually read the play- I found it when I was looking for potential monologues for auditions. I didn't have any comedic monologues in my repertoire and this one caught my eye. I had never actually used it in an audition but I had it saved on my computer so I took it out and memorized it all yesterday.
People responded very well and to my relief I got some good laughs- first time that has happened when it was just ME up there.
Everyone was very curious where it was from and I regret I wasn't able to tell them what the play was actually about. If anyone at home could find the play, read it, and send me a summary I would be so grateful.
Here's the monologue if you'd like to read it:
I believe my father is insane. I don’t mean the cute old man kind of insane, I mean the danger to himself and others kind.
[What does my mother say?] Nothing, she died when I was four—Or she ran away.
I’m not really sure.
The story changes all the time.
When I was eleven we had a border collie, Mrs. Lee, who, for about six months, my father insisted was my real mother. But she was Chinese and I just don’t think that’s possible. I mean I’m not a scientist but I’ve gone over every inch of my body with a fine tooth comb and I can’t find any evidence of Asian ancestry. None. Besides, he always said my mother’s name was Janet and Mrs. Lee’s first name was Ruth. Not exactly close enough to mix up if you ask me.
Anyway, one day I came home from school and she was gone. No explanation, no nothing.
And after that he just got worse and worse.
He started wearing jockey shorts over his pants and that was a sign—
About a year ago.
I waited till I heard the shower and I tiptoed out the door.
I thought I was quiet as a mouse, but somehow he knew, he heard me.
I was this close to the finish line.
Well. He comes running after me, screaming and sweating and cursing a blue streak!
And he was wearing his clothes!
Dry as a bone!
He wasn’t really in the shower at all! Just hiding, in the bathroom, running the water!
I should’ve figured as much as he hardly ever bathes. He’s the dirtiest person I know.
Anyway he’s screaming at me and all the neighbors come out of their doors and stare and gape and it was so embarrassing.
This time I didn’t take any chances.
I drugged him.
I put sleeping powder in his soup.
At least I think it was sleeping powder.
He mislabeled everything in the house so could’ve been saccharine. Or talcum.
I didn’t want him making another scene. I drugged him and trust me he was out like a light.
[Oh he's fine. He's fine! I didn't kill him.] Oh I don’t think so.
Although now that you mention it….He wasn’t snoring when I left.
Could I use your phone?
After the monologue event, I went over to my friend Char's to wish her Happy Birthday for her 21st and then I went home (reluctantly) and sat at my computer doing nothing. I seem to be doing that a lot recently.
Once again people have been noticing a change in my mood lately. They say I've been very quiet. I'm not sure what it is...but at the same time I have a theory. I think it's S.A.D. and my monthly moodiness pretty much.
I am hoping that it will pass quickly.
In order to stop doing nothing, I started adapting a scene from Jane Eyre for a stage play for my adaptations class.
If you're a girl, and moody, and very angry at boys, rewriting the scene where Jane leaves Rochester can be very therapeutic, I find!
If anyone cares to read it here it is:
Scene.
Jane stands front and center. This is after Bertha has been discovered.
Jane’s mind is tormented with conflicting thoughts.
JANE
What am I to do?
VOICE
Leave Thornfield at once.
Jane covers her ears in protest.
JANE
That I am not Edward Rochester’s wife is the least part of my woe. That I have awakened out of most glorious dreams, and found them all void and vain, is a horror I could bear and master; but that I must leave him decidedly, instantly, entirely, is intolerable. I cannot do it.
VOICE
You can do it.
You should do it.
You must do it.
JANE
If I am to do it, I cannot do it alone. Let another help me, force me to do it!
VOICE
No; you shall tear yourself away, none shall help you: you shall yourself pluck our your right eye; yourself cut off your right hand: your heart shall be the victim, and you the priest to transfix it.
Jane refuses to hear, retreats back only to stumble and be caught by
Jane! My dear Jane! There you are. Have you been crying?
He examines her face but sees no tears.
Not a word of reproach? Nothing bitter, nothing poignant? Nothing to cut a feeling or sting a passion?
Silence. Jane looks down as
Jane, I never meant to wound you thus. If a man who had but one little ewe lamb that was dear to him as a daughter, that ate of his bread and drank of his cup, and lay in his bosom, had by some mistake slaughtered it at the shambles, he would not have rued his bloody blunder more than I now rue mine. Will you ever forgive me?
JANE
I forgive you.
VOICE
No…
And yet you are so cold. You shun me.
JANE
You are a married man, sir.
I was wrong to hide anything from you, Jane. I know that. But I mean to make things right again. We’ll go away. Far far away from here- I have a house, Ferndean Manor, where we can live. We’ll be happy Jane!
JANE
Sir, your wife is still living.
She is no wife of mine. Does a wife burn people in their beds at night? Stab them? Bite the flesh from their bones? Do they--
JANE
Sir, you are inexorable for that unfortunate lady: you speak of her with hate—with vindictive antipathy. It is cruel—she cannot help being mad.
You know my story, Jane. How I was mislead, how her true nature was revealed to me after we married. How unhappy I was. Being married to her was no marriage but hell. And then you…You, angel, had shown me heaven again. After a youth and manhood passed half in unutterable misery and half in dreary solitude, I have for the first time found what I can truly love—I have found you. You are my sympathy—my better self—my good angel. I am bound to you.
She is silent and does not look at him.
Very well.
He grabs her and drags her upstage to the chestnut tree that has been split in two by the lightning previously. They are now in the garden.
Here. Tell me here. Here where you said you loved me. Here where you said you would be my wife. So it is here you must take it all back as I am now disqualified to be your husband. Do you not love me Jane?
JANE
I do love you! More than ever: but I must not show or indulge the feeling; and this is the last time I must express it.
VOICE
Depart…
Jane, do you mean to go one way in the world, and to let me go another?
JANE
I do.
Jane, (he steps toward her and embraces her) do you mean it now?
JANE
(eyes closed) I do.
(Kisses her neck) And now?
JANE
I do.
How can an angel be so wicked? It would not be wicked, Jane, to love me.
JANE AND VOICE
It would to obey you.
This is low blow.
(weakly) So…you are going Jane?
JANE
I am going, sir.
You are leaving me?
JANE
Yes.
She forces herself away.
Jane!
Jane stops, her back still to him.
Oh, Jane. My hope—my love—my life.
He lets out a sob but stiffles it, covering his face, closing his eyes.
Jane turns back, takes his head in her hands, and kisses him.
JANE
God bless you, sir.
Rochester leans further in, but Jane tears herself away one last time.
JANE
(choking back tears) Farewell.
VOICE
Farewell for ever.
Lights fade on
Not the best writing in the world- I did it in an hour, and most of the dialogue is straight from the book. Essentially I wanted to employ the chestnut tree where Jane and Rochester first confessed their love for each other. For my adaptations class we had to think about how we'd go about adapting Jane Eyre for the stage. For me the first thing I thought about was how to set up the stage and I thought the chestnut tree would make a great symbolic centerpiece for the whole story.
I'm planning on going to London this weekend to visit my friend Sam at drama school. More to come.
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