My Brain Runneth Over

I just came from Stage Management.

There, does that explain the title I typed? What kind of joke is that? Is that a pun? Either way, it's rather lame, but I'm leaving it. Like I said... My brain runneth over.

Seriously. The new information being uploaded has broken the surface tension in my mind's mental capacity and has resulted in one heck of a headache. Even thinking about it now, I'm groaning (inwardly, of course, as I'm surrounded by a bunch of college students in the Library lab, and I'm sure they'd rather not hear wailing moans as they IM their BFFs).

So, to distract myself from the pain, nausea, and general unease that comes with being scared out of one's pants, I shall talk instead about the ten minute play that I am to turn in to my Playwriting class.

As of right now, this very moment, I have just over eight pages. This is close, but no cigar. I'd take the cigar, too, if I won it. I'd give it to my dad. What would my daddy say? I'll tell you what my daddy'd say. He'd thank his girl for the cigar, is what my daddy'd say. But, to return to reality and get away from any and all "Little Mermaid" references, I do not know if these eight pages are sufficient to allow me to earn an A in this course. Perhaps, at least, it will show promise. Of course, you realize that "to show promise" is not quite a compliment. Loosely translated, it means "Well, this is crap, but you could maybe write something good someday."

I think perhaps I got a wee bit philosophical. There is not very much movement, as the whole ten minute play is set in a jail cell in what used to be Poland. I only have three characters, one of whom is practically unimportant. Necessary for reality's sake, but I think perhaps I could leave that guard out of the play (although I never say if the guard is a guy or a girl, so in theory a girl could play this part. She'd have to be one tough woman, though, if she's going to guard a jail cell. A Spartan, Amazon, Drill Sergeant Duck kind of woman. And if you don't know who Drill Sergeant Duck is, well, let's just say my sister will never poke fun at you for watching children's programming. That show is adorable, thank you very much. Bill in his little bow tie... Anyway!

I don't know a word of Polish. Wait, no, I take that back. The word małpa (the ł makes a wuh sound) means monkey or ape. Which is funny because now I know how to say monkey in five languages. Scimmia Affe Monkey Singe Małpa. Why do I need to know this stuff? Sigh. But the fact is, I couldn't make a sentence in Polish. I can barely pronounce małpa, thanks to the ever so wonderful International Phonetic Alphabet. So I took the same sounds as we have in the English language (we have quite a darn few, many more than we have symbols for) and simply switched them around a little. Now I have a fictional language that sounds very foreign and hopefully rather Polish. The heavy use of the letter ž makes that more likely. I love the letter ž. It's so exotic. It is the sound "zh," the voiced "sh," the sound we have in words like treasure and garage. I believe they're spelled [trɛžər] and [gərɔž] in the IPA. I could be wrong now... but I don't think so! Sorry, another reference. Anybody else like that show? I used to, before Sharona left, but Natalie's just not as fun and not as good for Monk. No offense to those who think the Natalie character's just awesome. (My goodness I spelled it "offence." I do that sometimes, too, I'll spell things the British way, like manoeuvre, isn't that great?! Okay, I'm done now.) In either case, I have my characters speak back and forth a little in a language that is most definitely not English. It's most definitely not a language. I hope I'm not inadvertently cussing in Polish or something... But if I am, who's really going to know? The Polish, yes, but I doubt they'll see my play performed.

I just realized that I've been typing for the last hour. I don't think I'm supposed to devote that much time to this particular endeavor. Part of it was looking up the IPA symbols, which took a little while to copy and paste. I think the only notation on pronunciation I'll need to make is something about the "zh" sound, because the rest of it is very phonetic. But I should stop now, and so I will. This was a nice diversion and I have entirely forgotten about all the stuff I have to do to get ready for "Three Sisters"... Believe you me, when October comes, THAT'S what you'll be hearing about. Chekhov this and Costumes that. I get to be the Associate Stage Manager Costume Liaison... I could honestly hurl... I don't know nothin' 'bout makin' costumes, Miss Scarlett! Okay, that was lame. I know it was. And now I go - but first we play! Okay, okay, that was less lame. I love Danny Kaye. And so we drink! Noooo! The pellet with the poison's in the chalice from the palace! That's a line from another Danny Kaye movie, in case you didn't know. But they connect, which is fun.

Wait... Wait... I cannot leave just yet... For my friend Juliet (that's really her name, don't go thinkin' I'm makin' things up just because I mentioned her and Romeo a post ago) has just come in, and is reading my script. You shall be informed momentarily...

She has read it. I believe she liked it. I'm not sure... She smiled a few times, chuckled once, and then got quite serious as the play went on. It does get kind of dark, so maybe that's the reaction I'm shooting for. She brought up a few good ideas, which I will incorporate, and then Tuesday I might read this thing with the class. I'll have to ask whether anyone can try to do a European/Polish/German type accent, because without that, two of my three characters won't be quite right. It is now 9 pm, and I have been in this lab since 7 typing on this blog. The last thirty minutes were reading and discussing my script, but still, I stop now. For real this time.