Silent Laughter
The first thing I did this morning was to make a run to Borders to try and get myself something I could use as a monologue for my auditions. When I got there, I was both overwhelmed by the vastness of the "drama" section of books, and disappointed by the selection. Nothing seemed to resonate. I then did what everyone does when all hope seems lost: I called someone smarter than I am. I called Laura. She was also at a book store. She was also at a Borders... weird how the universe can work sometimes. She directed me to Christopher Durang... a playwrite who I've heard of, but have really never spent any time reading. I sat down and started reading one of his short pieces, "John and Mary Doe" and he had me. I loved it... and I bought the book, which contains 27 short plays, and headed back to my apartment through the people asking for money or just asking me to stop... for some reason (read: money). When I got back to my apartment, I started reading some of the Durang plays. I finally read The Actor's Nightmare (and loved it), For Whom The Southern Belle Tolls (and loved it), and The Hardy Boys And The Mystery Of Where Babies Come From (and laughed). I actually found a section of The Actor's Nightmare that I think I'm going to use as a monologue.

Tonight was the third night of Mockupations. And, tonight the audience finally got into it... sort of. For the first half of the show, while I was on stage, I couldn't hear much laughter from the audience. But when I headed into the audience for one of the scenes, I realized that the audience WAS into it, they just weren't a very vocal audience. I was even able to interact with a woman sitting next to me, and she was (quietly) in hysterics. That's a good feeling. Especially for that particular show... I think I'm finally "into" it. It was a good show, finally... and hopefully we'll get a little more vocal audience next week.

#1 BEST POST OF 2004 - TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE VEGAS This was, clearly, the most imaginative, creative thing I wrote on this blog all year. I remember writing it from the bay window. It was, quite literally, the night before I went... I remember thinking that I should have been packing, but I just kept writing... I even looked up the actual 'Night Before Christmas' so that I could better parody it. I will leave you with the best (read: my favorite) part from that story:
"Thank God for Vegas,
Where a man can be loved
By a strange woman's mouth,
Or a hand that is gloved."
I'm brilliant.