Dedication

I attended three incredibly important graphic narrative events this week, and took notes for all of them, with the intent of writing newspaper articles for them.

Three articles.

One is usually enough of a chore, but somehow I thought I had time to write these by today and put together a poster presentation for the Art History Symposium.

I think it's important to note that I wrote all three. And they're ALL long. My usual length is 500+ words. Today I wrote 450, 850, and 1050. That's eight double-spaced pages worth of articles, if they aren't edited.

I almost pity the copy editors. They'll be reading Laura's ARTicles all night. But think of how cultured our readers will become. And how few advertisements there will be.

Living in the Past

Note: For the last six months, I've written six blog entries per month, and am now breaking that streak. This must be important, or something.

Just for a little while, just for tonight, I am pulling out a few past regrets that have sat in the back of a drawer, collecting dust and singing mournful songs of things that never came to be.

I found an old computer document entitled "hungry," a simple and evocative term for me. I need not think twice to know that this is a ten-page play I wrote for a Young Playwrights Festival. It was the last one-act I completed.

The theme for the contest was from Dracula: "I am starving here." People can be hungry for many things in life, such as hope, recognition, love. Write about someone who is hungry for something. Avoid the obvious. We don't want four hundred plays about pizza.

But, I thought what if it was one really good play about literally being hungry? So I created what I still believe to be an absolutely brilliant script about a girl trapped in class waiting for the lunch bell to ring.

My pride in such a work does worry me because it always seems that real writers aren't supposed to like their finished work very much. Okay, it has room for improvement. Now that I think about it, there is zero character development, but there were some very excellent acting/blocking techniques in it. It's hilarious. It makes sense, and it doesn't sound like some stupid tenth-grader wrote it.

The judges thought so, too, I guess. After the second drafts were submitted, I was invited for an interview to discuss the script, possible changes, and my schedule for the spring (especially spring break, which is the ideal time for rehearsals). Did I mention first prize in this festival? If you're in middle school, it's a staged reading of the top three scripts.

If you're in high school, it's a full production of your play.

Rehearsals are important. So when they asked what my plans are for spring break, the correct answer would be this: "I've no plans, and my mother would be willing to drive me two hours every day to do this." The incorrect answer is this: "Actually, we've been considering going to Canada for vacation to visit some relatives, but my mother is willing to drive me here every day besides that."

Which answer do you think I chose?

It's true, we had been discussing the possibility of going to Toronto, but please- like that was really going to happen. It wasn't. It didn't. They told me the availability of the playwright is one of the most important factors in deciding the contest. And I still gave them a twitty answer.

They gave the prize to someone else.
Maybe I should just be happy. I got a(nother) Semi-finalist award, and stood on stage for ten seconds while people clapped. Maybe I'm just reveling in an old vein of vanity for a mediocre piece of writing that was not better than the dramatic my-grandfather-is-dying skit or the interpretive dance skit (I kid you not. I have no idea what the point of that entire scene was. Except that I guess someone was hungry for something.). Mine wasn't better than the third skit. That was hilarious.

Or maybe they really did reject me because I might not have been at rehearsal.

The fact remains, though, that I like to believe most things happen for a reason. This cheers me up when I am rejected. Had the play been produced, I might not have had time for OM that year, and we had a darn good performance (though we blew it all to hell at World Finals... more regrets for a lonely night). The hallway of life has multiple doors. They won't all be closed.

My self-indulgence has been satisfied. Good night.

Giant Gummy Bear... on a Stick

Nearly 90 times larger than a standard gummy bear.

This is literally the most fantastic product I have ever found online, next to the Effective Alarm Clock. Sold on Vat19.com, it weighs a half-pound, and even has a video that shows you the history of the sweet (Basically, gummy bears were invented, but they were to small and fell between the cracks, so someone made one really big gummy and shoved a stick in one end for maximum portability.).

I love this:
Is that not glorious? The majestic edible bear comes in multiple flavors, too.
I wanted to share this with you because everyone needs a half-pound gummy... on a stick. At least I do, so if there are any fans, friends, or secret admirers out there, you know what to do. Either way, Vat19 probably has something that you DO need, so check it out.

Published

Technically.

I'm currently in a class called Pictures and Words, which has been mildly stressing me out all semester. It is the reason I have (fussily) woken up at 8 am multiple times in the past few months. It has made me want to cry with frustration and with joy (it still does).

The basis of this class is to study how text and illustration can work together- but independently- to ultimately produce a more interesting idea and better overall story. Matthew & Robbi of Idiots' Books are our awesome (and tough!) instructors, and really we're doing what they do for a living. He writes and she illustrates.

So for the class, there are pairs of us (I'm a writer) and each group designed and wrote a sample project (Karen and I wrote a [brilliant & hilarious] Stalker's notebook from the viewpoint of a college girl). Then we all switched partners and Darby and I have created a book entitled "Elephants in the Road," as seen here.

It's about a cab ride.

We all started with a CONCEPT, not a plot or a story, then built a tale & pictures around it. Darby's (my new partner) job was not to just match pictures to what the words say ("The dog ran" and there he is, running.) but to add a new layer to the story. Of course, the collaborative process is important, and I think we did a great job.

Anyhow, we printed the books tonight, and I'm incredibly excited about it. Our class will be presenting this Saturday, and I recommend attending the Festival. Half of the class will be at 2pm, but Darby & I will be at 6pm. See you there! Bring a few dollars if you like us enough to buy a copy! We'll even sign it.

Sunny SunSun

Why I'm excited:

And Saturday is zoo day! Aubrey insists that she's never been to a zoo, so we're going to be all over those giraffes and lemonade stands. And I have just determined that lemonade is more fun to say when pronounced as such: "Lemon-ahd." It sounds like "promenade," and now that I think about it, it only works as such when spoken with a French accent.

Two Bee or Not to Be

Much of my homework is done late-night in the dorm basement/common room. This is nice; there are couches and a broken table. I like it.

There is also a soda machine. Standard. Coke and Nestea, generally cold.

But there is something that happens late at night in the soda machine. Something buzzes and hums at top volume, at evenly-spaced intervals. Whether machine or beast is responsible for this bizarre buzzzzzzzzing, I know not. It's probably a combination of both: Automated Bee. It's annoying as all hell, and I want an automated flyswatter or an axe, or something to destroy this mysterious entity that shriekingly buzzes me out of the lounge into the quiet safety of the kitchen.

And then yesterday I was reading when I heard that unmistakable drone of a big ugly black fly stuck at the window. I turned and faced, not a fly, but a giant gold wasp. Great.

I knew I should have plugged the holes in our AC unit better.

So I slinked over to my desk, grabbed my keys and shoes, then slid back to my dresser to change for yoga. I could be early. Of course, no one wants to be completely stinky in the hot classroom, so I threw on some scented lotion. Flower-scented. Great. I left Claire a note on the door to watch out, and ran away.

I guess my rant is that I forgot Spring brings new insect life, and I want it all to go away again. I think this is reasonable.

Wanted: Personal Secretary or Maid

Frazzled student with defeated attitude now accepting applications for the position of Personal Secretary, Assistant, or Maid.

Duties include: Morning wake-up calls, organizing receipts, locating contact lenses when gremlins take them, purchasing bread sticks at midnight, memorizing pin numbers, locating federal tax forms/W2's when gremlins take them, hairstyling, and recycling.

Knowledge of the occult not valued, but accepted.

Hours: All of them.

Salary: No.

Please contact Laura.

Hell Week in Review

Well, it's been exactly a week since I last posted, and I swear I've been working nonstop since then. I hardly talked to Claire for about two days, and slept an average of four hours each night, mostly in nap-form.

I have accomplished the following:
- wrote 2+ drafts of thesis proposal
- wrote 1 Shakespeare paper
- wrote 1 sample mission statement for the new art gallery
- edited a draft of Pictures & Words project
- picked 1 word of 20 for Writers' Theatre character, though am not using it
- got 1 new drivers license with 1 unsmiling picture
- received 1 new printer/scanner in the mail, which shall henceforth be referred to as "Beast"
- fasted for 1 day, and broke the fast (and Lent/diet) with ice cream
- saw 2 classmates in their underwear (for a show)
- watched 2 episodes of "The Real World" and regretted it
- turned in thesis proposal.