The City of Oaks and Oddballs

This night, which grows ever later as I write these words, has been a good deal of fun for me. It was Kate's birthday celebration and we went traipsing around Raleigh and shooting witticisms back and forth. I met a new person who seemed like a simply splendid being. We all went to an Irish pub called Tir Na nOg - have I mentioned it before? - where there was not only heavenly food, but a group of Irish dancers from some local dance school. They were quite good, as was my dish of corned beef and cabbage. We went to a place known as ArtSpace, which is usually fun, but it was strangely desolate this time.

There was one artist whose work was on display, and while he was decent at his craft, he seemed to lack social intelligence: Even as I was very complimentary of his work, he eventually dismissed us quite rudely with a remark about "appreciating art from an intellectual level." Mind, we gave him absolutely no provocation whatsoever, nor he any warning. It was very sudden and, you know what? Why would I not want to leave if he was such a presumptuous and self-absorbed curmudgeon who seemed to assume that, by dint of being teenagers, we had no taste in art? As I said, I openly complimented his work and those were his thanks. Perhaps at some point a post is due about old farts who assume that we young people cannot "appreciate" things. And if I haven't already, a post on unfounded assumptions. One mustn't think I am angry with the man; he's not worth anger, but I found that rather ironic and, while I do look down on him, it is as much with pity as it is with amusement at his loss.

Also, there was a religious bloke on the city sidewalk who told us to "walk a straight path or we'd fall off." If that means what I think it does, I think a straight path with not deviations or detours whatsoever would be incredibly dull. Ah, he probably thought he was being helpful.

Anyhow, we managed to entertain each other the whole time and had some awesome discussions involving everything from the night sky to Terry Pratchett to drugs to world languages to the Norse gods to the argument of whether science drains the luster out of beautiful things (it does not). Eventually some of us, including me, had to part ways, but I truly had a blast and hope to have more blasts in the future.

I'm in!

On Monday I auditioned for Applause!'s musical School House Rock - and I got it! This was my second time auditioning, my first being one I did not make it into (The Somewhat True Tale of Robin Hood). I suppose in this case the second time's the charm? I do not yet know who I am playing, but this was a great victory to me. It's just a matter of persistence, as with publishing. But once you're in, it's great because you can honestly say that you are. I look forward to the actual performing and all that precedes and proceeds it. And I'll meet new people.

Here are my dream roles:

• Sweeney Todd or Judge Turpin
• Sherlock Holmes or Moriarty
• Dr. Victor Frankenstein or the Monster
• Count Dracula or Abraham Van Helsing
• Atticus Finch or Bob Ewell
• Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde
• The Mad Hatter or the Cheshire Cat
• Grendel
• Willy Wonka
• Gandalf the Grey (The Hobbit)
• The Wonderful Wizard of Oz
• Quasimodo
• Any sort of Nazi/SS officer
• Mercutio Montague
• President Coriolanus Snow
• Emperor Palpatine
• The Other Father (Coraline)
• Iago (Othello)
• Norman Bates
• Macbeth. I said the word!
• The modern major-general
• Ben Mears or Mark Petrie, perhaps even Barlow or Straker, or Father Callahan (all so great)
• Hades
• ...And anything else I can get. Those are my top, though.

I've already played brave, brave Sir Robin - that was fun, although it was five and a half years ago. I do realize I have some double choices; such is not only a backup thing, but also because I have two favorite types of characters: creepy/scary villains and roguish rapscallions. I can be evil, but I can also be like my real self: a scoundrel. Some, such as Mr. Todd, are both. Others are also in there.

I actually did not sing for a long time due to a music teacher I had in elementary school - I am partly to blame of course, for letting her get to me, but I became very embarrassed to speak in musical notes for many years. Now I am making up for my years of sloth by catching up to things.

Also, in the matter of getting in, I think I must at long last polish something up to send off to a magazine. I'll probably be rejected, but persistence is key, no? Probably just a poem, as I still need to sort out my stories.

French I taught me that "adieu" is very final, as in funerals, so I'll just say

Au revoir! Bonjournee!

-Lewis