I've been AWOL. I'm sorry. There's no excuse.
Well, except that I joined a French theatre troupe, my musical finally received its honest-to-goodness test outing at the Players Club of NYC, I wrote and directed and performed in and made the puppets for two original puppet shows, and ... hmmm, there was one other thing. What was it? . . .
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Oh, yeah! I graduated from college!
Those of you who have followed this blog (or lack of) over the past four years will recall that, at times* I have been dismissive, derogatory, sneering, snide, even a little ambivalent toward the university system. But now, here at the "other end" of things, as I look back through the past four years with the kind of reflective stance that can only come of standing reflectively, I must admit, in all honesty, that college is still really pretty stupid.
Naww, but seriously, I have to say the last semester was no slouch. Here we are, the French/Francophone theatre troupe "L'Atelier entre deux murs" (The Workshop Between Two Walls), performing Ionesco's Le Roi se meurt back in February. This is the play that gets translated as Exit the King in English, basically because if they translated it literally as The King Dies Himself, the French would all be considered Loony McLoonybutts, except of course for the aristocracy, who would be considered Loony de McLoonybutts.
What with being the only American/non-native Francophone in the company, the onus was on me** to not sound like a total raving dipwad, a feat I am reasonably sure I accomplished with aplomb.*** But either way, you're never going to find out, since these photos can't talk nyah nyah nyah.
In all seriousness, it was a blast, and I only wish we'd gotten to perform the play more times. We were originally scheduled for an extra performance at the Lycée Français de New York, only to be mysteriously cancelled days before. I never really got to say goodbye to my character Queen Marguerite and I'm sorry for that. But I'm glad we got the one go.
As you may note, I played the role in a relatively ill-fitting garment, expressly designed for an individual with more bodice-filling aptitude (this being one of the things they test you on when you take the SAT). However, it turns out this is an excellent way to keep your energy (alternatively known as "terror") level nice and high during a performance. Which, in fact, I already knew from prior experience; I've been in shows where (a) I actually had a dress come OFF and (b) a baseball fell smack down onto the middle of my head. So this was no biggy. You learn how to roll with things. Or, as we say in French, "on apprend à roller with things."
Next up: Aisle Six, the glorious premiere at the Players Club last month. Stay tuned!
* Specifically, all times.
** As in, "AHHH! THERE'S AN ONUS ON ME! GET IT OFF!!!"
*** As in, "Gee, Bob, you washed those windows with aplomb." "Naw, I'm pretty sure I used a squeegee."****
**** There will be no more stupid word jokes for the remainder of this post. Probably.