I havne't been updating about the shit that has been going down--must get better at this...

Tuesday morning I had my French final. It went alright--could've gone better, could've gone worse. No matter what, I'm getting at least a B, hopefully an A- if the final didn't go as poorly as my cynical side always imagines.

Tuesday night I went to see the round of final performances by the Scene & Monologue class in the studio theater. They did a series of Shakespeare soliloquies (incorporating constant movement and voice), and then scenes from modern plays. Archie--the Indian girl with the chocolate skin who dates my former roomate, Brendan (the Irish one)--did a scene with another girl from "Parallel Lives" which was absolutely hilarious, done in Valley-girl style. The last scene was from a play called "Rabbit Hole" and was pretty good. Both made me want to go out and find the plays (wasn't "Parallel Lives" made into a movie? It sounds familiar...)

Unfortunately, about halfway through the performance, my left lense popped out and clattered under the bleachers. I had to crawl under there afterwards, and once I had located it, climbed up through the second row, emerging like some kind of worm. It was pretty hilarious--but not before I could retrieve it. I found out that one lense still aids the other eye, but it's not particularly comfortable. I need, in addition to a proper pair of shoes, to get some new glasses. Hopefully both can be purple.

Afterwards, I went to Johnson House, as the Creative Writing class was having a similar final-themed reading. The editor of an anthology, "A Stranger Among Us" was there, and the teacher, Sharon May (who was replacing Barnstone this year--he was on sabbatical), read her story that was in there, about a Cambodian ex-patriate who works as a translator with the Australian Immigration Authority on the Thai border. Afterwards, they talked about both sides of trying to get published, which was very interesting for me, obviously, as I plan to have a career on at least one of those sides (writer and/or editor).

And last night I went to the final round of performances for the Performing Non-Fiction class. This is the class where each person chooses a (semi-)historical figure to research and write a one-person, fifteen minute play about it. (This was the first time they offered it, so hopefully I can take it my junior year and do Edna St. Vincent Millay, and get to wear a flapper dress and a red bob, and throw letters about, giggling high-pitchedly). It was all rather meta, as they were moving around the few props making up the set right in front of us, with barely dimmed lights, but they were all pretty good, and some of them were *really* good. Here's a break-down:

I mostly came for Chris's one anyway (but I really liked Tim's too). Maybe I should've stayed to congratulate Tim, but I couldn't stop staring at Chris (he changed out of his paint-covered clothes right there, not helping matters), but I had to run out...

I want to overcome this loneliness, and I think I just need to hang out with friend more... So, this summer, I have many fun things planned, and just generally try and be productive. Try and not give this thing--this thirst for melodrama which is always boiling under the surface, waiting to explode like this--too many chances to manifest... Nobody likes a drama queen!

I think it's may be that I want attention--but in a sense, I don't want people to focus on me at these times. Or I do. I'm not looking for pity--or do I want to shock? I think I just want to totally break down so I can just let out all this anger and sorrow that's been festering inside of me for so long... Oh, how emo!

Well, I'm gonna go now and hope that I haven't scared y'all too greatly. Next post will no doubt be concerned with the practicalities of finals and going back home. Cheers.