all of the clothes I own. in a mess. on the floor.
I decided to go through my clothes today, which took me three hours. This week has been so boring, I've spent like half of it watching pointless television and eating excessive amounts of ice cream. July has been quite lackluster so far.
Next week (and the following one) I have some sort of writing camp that my mom/Joanna kind of hoodwinked me into doing. And I can't even say anything about it because, frankly, I know next to nothing about it. So your guess is good as mine. I think my nomadic friend Joanna might be crashing at my house a day or two. I don't know--she's the kind of person who 'conveniently' leaves out details and just shows up at my house at arbitrary times.
Oh. Crap. Guess what I just found out? So every summer, since I was 10, the last three weeks of summer is reserved for spending five hours a day working on this massive production with my beloved theatre company. And I just found out, right now, this year's show is Hamlet. Hamlet!?
Ugh. I love Shakespeare. The man was pretty incredible. However, Shakespeare is difficult and frustrating, especially the tragedies. And Hamlet, indeed, is a tragedy. I wouldn't be complaining if we were doing The Comedy of Errors or As You Like It or Much Ado About Nothing; those are all hilarious and ingenious shows. Hamlet, however, is morbid and tedious and everyone dies in the end. I do not want to waste my last few weeks of summer vacation spending hours studying cryptic poetry and then dying. It is summer; I want to do a frivolous, fun show.
Also, auditions are next week. Meaning, I have less than a week to cease the internet and sift though millions of monotone monologues. Of course, I can not perform the awesome monologue I have already imprinted in my brain, because it isn't remotely close the Shakespeare and the monologue should reflect the show you audition for. Meaning, now I have to find some Shakespeare monologue, interpret what it means, memorize it, practice it, perfect it, all in less than a week. On top of this mysterious writing camp.
Ugh. Summer is more work than school.