Tag Archives: words

The Bit With The Pickle

8 May


Cramming lines with the same unusability in daily verbiage as Shakespeare, without the help of a meter.

…And run-ons from hell that even make this pot, call the kettle “black.”

Add in the extremely cultured dialect of the upper crust and it just gets ridiculously chewy.  Delicious sentences to read, and speak, but not to commit to memory.  The exceptions and strange specific placing of certain words after others, (which do not necessarily go together and/or trip you up), is a constant.

…And I don’t even have the worst ones.  Those jewels of unfathomability belong (for the most part) to my dear “Mamma.”

However, I do have my fair share. Things like:

“…That is clearly a metaphysical speculation, and like most metaphysical speculations has very little reference at all to the actual facts of real life, as we know them.”

…Which means careful attention to delivery, or it all rolls into a ball of total nonsense to the listener, and might as well be in Hindi for all the relatability it have to the American audience ear.

…So then finding the rhythm is necessary, (though it is constantly changing speed and texture.)

…Which means hashing the script to bits, breaking down the text into bite-sized pieces to properly chew, digest and (ultimately) memorize (please God.)

Then, of course, you also have the bit-pieces…and rim-shots as well. Like:

“I never change, except in my affections.”


“The suspense is terrible.  I hope it will last.”

They are peppered amongst the extremely formal sentence structure, at (what appears) total random.

…Which somehow makes both funnier, for their direct contrast.

(There is, of course, nothing “random” about it.  Every sentence is measured and set specifically. By a master.)

It’s like that bastard actually knew what he was doing when he wrote it!

I love that well-over 100 years later, it is still laugh-out-loud funny.  And clever.  And sexual.  And enticing.  But can still hop a-pace lithely on it’s toes, peopled in a world which somehow accommodates foppish men-children, mistaken identities, sexual farce, and ball-busting dowagers, in a society of manners, with men-servants, multiple secret engagements, feather-brained tutors and a baby in a handbag…all at the same time.

…Which reminds me:

Built the trailer today. 

A new favorite. 

…Have to wait-out the weekend before I can post it.  The theatre gets dibs on it’s premiere. 

…M’favorite bit is with the pickle.

…Which I’ll just leave hangin’ out there for you to try and figure out. (Though, you won’t.)

Cuz I’m mean that way.


Travel Writing & Lines

27 Sep


So yesterday’s post was composed on the way to, (and in the parking lot just before), rehearsal. 

…Because that is when I had time.

We are only in blocking now. Clearly, I need to figure out how to get a few blogs in draft form holding ready for immediate posting as needed.  Because if I hadn’t had a particularly funny rehearsal to write about yesterday, I would have had to settle for the bird eating a french fry off the sidewalk, or nomad (of the homeless persuasion), cussing at his invisible friend while looking for something that had fallen to the bottom of his shopping cart.

…When you have all of fifteen minutes to write in, you can’t be picky, people.

Also, I’m already having “line guilt.”

…This is the guilt you feel when you are not yet off book, and yet try to enjoy things like your new “Thor” Bluray specials, but can’t because the whole time you are trying to tell yourself you’re “having a good time,” but are secretly freaking out about how you have like ten gillion lines that haven’t been learned yet. Because of Theatre religious connotations, its a lot like Jewish and Catholic guilt really. Only a little bit worse. Cuz you can’t just “absolve” it later when you still don’t know the lines, and really, really, really wanna watch the “Castle” season opener. But can’t.

…So I’m going with the “rewarding” plan of attack. This is based on the “buy one, get one free” schematic.

For every French Scene I memorize, I getta do one thing NOT having to do with lines. (Like write a blog for instance.) Then I go back and kick another one’s ass and get to play with another thing. Only, my memory has always been a little for-shit in that temporary storing part where lines live? Which means I spend twice as long learning them, then taking a break and re-learning them…over and over and over again, until they finally stick.

…It took me three hours just to get my first scene down yesterday, mid phone bookings at work. And then I had to relearn the entire fucking thing on the way home. And again while in the shower after my walk, but before rehearsal. When I woke up this morning and tried it, all of a sudden I actually remembered it. Which could totally change by noon today…who even knows. The fact I’m not even using the meter to help me learn ’em, (so I don’t get all stuck in it later), hasn’t been the greatest help either.

…Which means, I’ll prob’ly still be on scene three when next we speak, and I STILL won’t fucking know what happened “the morning after” for Kate n’ Castle.

Basically, this is just me bitching about the essential necessities of acting, because, “poor me,” I have a job and lines to learn…and how it is TOTALLY getting in the way of my fav TV show fixations. Which is not to say I am ungrateful…cuz I do love me the theatre…I just hate that I’m not one of those photographic memory people who can look at a law book once through, then pass the Bar, all in one afternoon.

It would be a super handy skill, no lie.

…Meanwhile, I have to go back to my Open Order report now. So I can finish it and spend the next five hours afterward, trying to slam three monologues into my brain, while I file.

It’s a glamourous life I lead.

You only WISH you were me.


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