The Creepy Amish
I'm still in this play where the play is pretty good but I'm pretty terrible. Every actor tells themselves that. If they don't then they're either terrible or William Shatner. Anyway, I'm still fairly convinced that I'm terrible in it. Except now that I'm watching it unfold with all these freshmen who aren't developing the characters at all (you know, ACTING), it's occurring to me that I'm actually the BEST actor in this play. My point being that if you suddenly find yourself in the habit of stalking me sometime after reading this, perhaps birthing a dangerous obsession with my awesome which consumes your every waking moment (and many of the sleeping ones), then by all means attend this play. Because you'll quickly stop stalking me in favor of the crack head that you met outside. Or any crack head, really.
Also there used to be this guy in Bellarmine theater that we all called "The Amish." His real name is Tim but something about the burly beard dawned him the nickname "The Amish." We both declared last semester to be the last one we would do any Bellarmine theater, and to his credit, he stuck to it. As for me, too many people begging me to come back broke me down.
But I'm trying to go to sleep the other night and somehow (probably through voodoo witchery) I find myself thinking about Tim. He's this 30-something dude who was at one time a student who got drawn into theater by accident (specifically because he's a construction whiz) way after he had graduated and spent almost a decade mucking around the theater. Bearded, way older than the kids involved, flirting with every girl (if not flat out boning them), and generally being creepy. He was lovable enough to never bother anyone, in fact we all liked him, but there was always that part of him that you felt was kind of pathetic.
Today I found myself in rehearsal with a ton of freshmen, bearded, a former student who got drawn into Bellarmine theater by accident (specifically set destruction because I'm a destruction whiz) way after I left the school and have been hanging around for about three years. I'm older than anyone in my play and have this dangerous kind of crush on the 18 year old female lead, who it seems has one back.
Dear God, I've become the Amish.
Also there used to be this guy in Bellarmine theater that we all called "The Amish." His real name is Tim but something about the burly beard dawned him the nickname "The Amish." We both declared last semester to be the last one we would do any Bellarmine theater, and to his credit, he stuck to it. As for me, too many people begging me to come back broke me down.
But I'm trying to go to sleep the other night and somehow (probably through voodoo witchery) I find myself thinking about Tim. He's this 30-something dude who was at one time a student who got drawn into theater by accident (specifically because he's a construction whiz) way after he had graduated and spent almost a decade mucking around the theater. Bearded, way older than the kids involved, flirting with every girl (if not flat out boning them), and generally being creepy. He was lovable enough to never bother anyone, in fact we all liked him, but there was always that part of him that you felt was kind of pathetic.
Today I found myself in rehearsal with a ton of freshmen, bearded, a former student who got drawn into Bellarmine theater by accident (specifically set destruction because I'm a destruction whiz) way after I left the school and have been hanging around for about three years. I'm older than anyone in my play and have this dangerous kind of crush on the 18 year old female lead, who it seems has one back.
Dear God, I've become the Amish.