Ok, so a number of things delayed me in retyping my post on the competition. Not least of all that I hate typing shit for the second time.
My crown over at Sar's place is officially gone. It was a good run. And the only caption I can think of for the current photo would probably get me put on some kind of watchlist. So I'm letting this one just float in the aether.
Performed a scene in my acting class. Was a drug-addled, lecherous radio personality for a couple of minutes. Good times.
Missed Boston Legal tonight. Was watching King Kong because the dvd had to be back at the video store by 12. Solid flick.
So it turned out that there was really nothing for me to do for the first 22 hours of the competition that had anything to do with judging. I'm wondering if it was a clever ruse to rope me into doing gruntwork for the mere reason that there was nothing else to do. It's conditioning that occurs when you've worked for amatuer theater. When there is shit to be moved, set up, or otherwise prepared, you do it. Even in this case at someone else's school, for someone else's show.
Had written an extended thingus on each play. too tired now. The evening included:
One play that would have been better if the surprise at the end hadn't been given away in the first scene. A college dude is cheating on his girlfriend, and everyone assumes its with this one girl but in actuallity it was her brother. It was given away at the begginning when her mother notices a pair of underwear on his couch and says, "since when do you wear briefs?"
A play that involves a renegade student holding his class hostage with a bomb, only no wait it's not a real bomb it was just a case study in mortal fear. Despite the negative view one might have of the play based on that summary, it Brought the Funny.
A one-man show performed by a dude whose team had dropped out at the last minute. He didn't memorize it all, but the dude gets major points for not just folding. Furthermore, it was heartfelt and engaging at some times and at other times hilarious. the flaw was that all he was doing was sitting at a table and saying his lines.
Intelligent Bathroom humor. I swear, I'm not making this up. Three dudes enter the men's room in succession with love problems, and each is advised to use the same cheezy line. The first one uses it as a prelude to popping the question to his girlfriend. The second uses it to proposition the first one's girlfriend. The third uses it to proposition the first. Unfortunately the ending was a mess.
Some cruddily arranged but yet hilariously executed play involving a tuba, chap stick, a Latin lover and his affinity for the "sexy love-sex," an awkward dude with no such affinity who asks for help and is led to believe that the tuba is his answer, a flasback to some 16th century inventors convention that didn't belong, and the realization that all along the secret was "luba" which is Spanish for Chapstick? I don't know. Like I said, the plot didn't make a lot of sense but these people knew how to be funny together.
I pretty much held my own in the deliberations, but that was only half a victory as I forgot to make contacts with the other judges. In the end, it was decided that the play involving the bomb, called "Any Questions," and the play involving the tuba, called, "Shuba Tuba" would tie. Personally I wanted the former.
So anyways, afterwards I recieved a scarf for my troubles, and spent yet another evening on my friend's dorm room floor, the effects of which are still being felt in my back. Worst surface I've ever slept on, and I've gone camping and slept on rocks. Just something about those floorboards didn't sit right with my back.
So between the weekend and last night I've not had an abundance of sleep and now looks like no exception as I'll likely not get much more than a brief snooze in before I have to go in to rehearsal. Ah well. I could sleep through my writing class and not miss much.
In any case, I'll catch you all later