Some friends I know via the internet have a blog running called "Light Within Productions" and I recently joined the team doing a monthly book-review bit. My first review is of the Nobel Prize winning novel "The Bluest Eye" by Toni Morrison. If you have the time, please check it out, maybe join the forum.

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Jesus H. Christ its been a long time since I posted here.

I'm not going to bore my non-existent readers with what has happened over all that time, just gonna talk about recent times. Just yesterday I had a job interview at Home Depot, which went well. I really hope I get this, or another day job. The job I had last summer, and plan on keeping, was okay, paid well, and wasn't that hard. Problem was that it was a night job, whereas my friends were either in summer school or working day jobs. Social life=nil. щ(°Д°щ)

I've been taking ballroom dance lessons at a community centre with a friend for the past few weeks. Pretty fun I must say. Got to try them out at a jazz show a week or so ago.

Currently I am reading a book about a scrawny white anthropologist who moved into East Harlem with his wife to talk to crack dealers all day. Fun read.

Also, I've decided to start planning a novel. The novel is based off the life of a RP character I created a while ago by name of Jeremiah Westlake. The story will be at least introduced by a Jeremiah in what has become his favourite activity - being shitfaced outside of some dirty tavern of ill repute.

Here, a direct copypasta from the site where I created him is a description of his life.

"Jeremiah Westlake is the son of a prostitute and any number of her customers. Often left on his own to play in the wonderful island getaway of Rafferty, the young boy had an interesting childhood. He quickly learned how to drink, steal, fight and womanize (the later being rather easy in Rafferty). He stowed away on a ship making a more “entertaining” shore leave than one would find in Teaford, which is where he ended up. He somehow managed to stay under the radar of the local guard, stealing food and anything he could get his hands on.

"After a while, he got conscripted by a raiding party which lived a transient, but exciting and rather comfortable life picking on the slow and poorly protected. His reputation within this band quickly grew and he eventually managed to gain control of it.

"They decided to move from the grasslands to plunder traders moving through the mountain pass where the terrain would aid them. However, unlike most good bandits, they moved too slow and their reputation made it to Floswick before they did and they were quickly caught and arrested when a caravan they planned on robbing was actually a unit of town guard under cover.

"Being the ringleader, he was imprisoned much longer than the rest of his troupe. Released now into the streets of Floswick, with not a penny to his name, no associates, getting on in years and totally out of practice skills in both larceny and combat, he finds it hard to bring back the renown his name used to have.

"Before his capture, he dressed in the finest silken suits and leather coats his money could buy or fingers could grab. He fought with a finely crafted rapier, inlaid with gold in the hilt with an ornate, gilded hand guard. All of this has been taken from him. Now, he has nothing but the hempen clothes given to him, a dagger he stole, and a salvaged leather overcoat."

Wow. Just wow.

In English class this year, we studied three plays "Of Mice and Men," "Death of a Salesman" and "A Streetcar Named Desire." Things were different this year. Instead of the usual group discussion and essay crap tripe, our teachers did something different. The two gifted English classes were split into three groups each, one for each play. We were given a script, a bit under two months, and instructions to cut it down to around 45 minutes. Then, we were left to fend on their own.

My group was given "A Streetcar Named Desire." After thinking him a minor character (mainly because this was my first role ever and I have no idea if I could, I decided to play Mitch. However, I soon found out that he was much more important to the plot than I had thought. However, I could see shards of myself in the character, he was like a version of me, a past life. I could do this I thought. Everyone else found their roles well enough, and we managed to keep the story together and coherent (in our opinion at least) and stay within the time limit.

My group went last. I thought this would be good, give us more time to rehearse than the other plays. What I didn't expect is that some of them would be so well done that it was intimidating to be the final production to go. So, crunch time came. I saw some great productions, particularly a great performance by the group of a close friend of mine. His group's performance of "Death of a Salesman" had at least 5 people (myself included) shedding a few tears by the end.

How the hell could we follow that?

So, we all go to the theater, help the second "Of Mice And Men" group tear down their set and put ours up. I get into my costume, and retreat backstage, waiting to get started. The crowd files in, and sits down. I get nervous. It all goes well, no-one forgets any lines so far. Then my cue. Blanche says "We thrashed it out." to Stella. I walk on. Beer bottle in one hand, jacket over my shoulder, laughing at the punchline. And I noticed something. My biggest fear was the audience. I saw them come in, it wasn't a large audience, but it wasn't a small one either. But when I stepped out., they were back-lit, it was hard to tell where one person started and the next stopped. What was once many staring, judging eyes now became an amorphous blob, except for the first few roles.

And I did amazing well, compared to the stumbling over lines and too nervous to be loud enough to be heard performance I had envisioned in my head. I remembered all but one of my lines, which was a two-word throwaway. Also, during Blanche's monologue about her deceased husband, Allan, I saw a girl in the second row, her eyes fixed on Blanche. Her face, it looked like she was trying to hold back tears. I was moved.

After my biggest scene, I was amazingly happy backstage, as was everyone. Energy was high and the jitters and nervousness of the day leading up to the performance were nowhere to be seen. And then the final scene. The lights dimmed, applause rang out and we walked off stage. We came on in pairs. Pablo and the Doctor, Steve and Eunice, and finally, Stella and Stanley with Mitch (myself) and Blanche. Comapny bow. Loud applause. Smiles everywhere.

And then something else happened. After I had changed, after I tore down the set, after I engaged in the usual post-show chit-chat, I had rugby practice. While crossing the parking lot to the changroom to the field, a girl pointed at me. "Hey, hey! You're Mitch, from the play! Right?"

"What? Yeah, that was me."

"You were so good!"

I was recognized! I have never been recognized for anything aside from running into a garbage can at a rugby tourney (totally not my fault, btw) so this was a great improvement.

So, to sum it all up: I had a fucking blast, and I think I might try out for an actual school play soon!

PS

Because there is and only will be one show, it is weird having the opening night rush and closing night blues at the same time.