Sticks Author: Steve

Rehearsal!  And that means cherry pie from Kendra.  And cinnamon buns from Kendra.  And scones from Alison.  Christ!  All I can tell you is that if you don’t get that at your rehearsal, you need to get a Kendra and an Alison.

You can’t have ours.  Find your own.

The group was itching to get back to The Harold.  We made progress on creating more solid scenes and characters and felt that we’d carry it over into a good ol’ rompy Harold.

And The Harold said “Take THAT!  And that.  And THAT!  Respect me bitches!”

And bitches we were made.  Sticks no more…. bitches of the Harold.

Stuff was still funny.  (These people are funny… I’m telling you.. every last one of them.)  But the scenes were sprawling, sailing, time dashing away from clarity.  We had characters, but we failed to anchor the scenes as we edited in and out.  People playing main characters also got brought in to be different characters.  By the end, had we been the audience, we would not have known what happened or what really held the whole thing together.

Focus for next time will be to keep the characters very firmly established and to not dash too far away from them in each beat.

Successes however!  Rachel monologized despite her insistence that she has no stories.  Bah!  Let’s just say she’s lived a little bit.  She’s got stories.  Off of a suggestion of “beach” she took us on vacations, adventures across swamps, into the lives of Candy, Nina, and Deena, into a sprawling beach house of splendor and a humble cabin.  We had polygamists, bouncers, Madonna and… and …. XANADU!

Also, two of our stronger group games.

In any event, onward!  We’re at the point where we can be pretty darn hard on ourselves as we try and get better.  Everybody has thick skin.

Except me.  I’m a fragile flower with delicate petals made of insecurity and pollen made of doubt and a flaccid stamen and a.. stem .. made from infinitely extended metaphors.

Of Montreal, Gronlandic Edit.  Physics makes us all its bitches.