Playwrite
The other day I was talking to Dad. I usually try not to blog about things my family does and says, but like everything else it will sneak in. I made mention of some members of the theater company who are trying their hands at play writing. Dad suggested that perhaps I should do this. I responded that I really wouldn't know what to write a play about, but he said I have a lot of potential in it. Before I could agree or disagree, he said I should write about my years in high school.
This made me think because I have determined that this is a real preoccupation with my Dad. He likes to scream at me when gets on his high horse and tells me that I have to go to my high school and/or college alma mater in order to get good friends instead of who he perceives as losers. Point out the fact that he gave my information to a graduate of my high school who I no longer choose to have contact with and all of a sudden his ego deflates. (Once he learned of her abusive relationships, but I won't repeat all of it here because I AIN'T CRAZY.) I honestly wish he would stop it, because that is the past. I learned the hard way that one usually does not maintain such relationships because we all grow and change quite a bit. They are people from the past, and they stay where they should be, in the past.
It did, however, make me think that if I were to write a play about said subject exactly what it would be about. Obviously the heroine of the story would be me or as close to me as possible. A West Side kid at an East Side school, forever locked in an awkward moment, in a plaid skirt, loafers, carrying a backpack full of stuff constantly. Automatically in this town they think you're white trash and live in a trailer park if you live on the West Side, but that's another story. There were some distinct cliches in said class that there always are, in mine there were three : The Bitches, The Goths, and Miscellaneous (divided into smaller sub groups like The Jocks, The Nerds, The Trekkers/Trekkies, etc.). I wasn't exactly one of any of said group, I managed to dabble here and there. In short it was kind of like an extended version of Mean Girls. But that is hardly original. I could talk about the eternal loneliness and insecurities I felt, or perhaps the vain attempts I tried to be friendly with others that fell flat. Hardly another originality.
Maybe what would make a great play would be looking into the future of my high school class. I could be the visitor from the future to go back in time and see the me of 20 years ago to tell me my future. Sure there will be ups and downs, terrible things and tragedies, but there are also good things as well. When these assholes are rotting in their own filth, you will emerge. Don't let the future drunks and bitter divorcees put you down. You will face insurmountable obstacles, but you will conquer them because no one can break you. You're going to travel to exotic lands someday. You will break the confines of this mortal coil and be freed of this. You're going to meet Morten someday, and you had forgotten all about him at this point. Countless others will as well, but of all the fans you got the fairy tale story. And maybe, just maybe, you will have had the most exotic story of them all. You will have a wonderful life, one of the highest highs and the lowest lows. But most importantly, you will survive this and be ok. It is, after all, high school.
And if this play ever gets published and performed, I would have Dad see it so he can get angry and have his delusions shattered. I think he needs that.
This made me think because I have determined that this is a real preoccupation with my Dad. He likes to scream at me when gets on his high horse and tells me that I have to go to my high school and/or college alma mater in order to get good friends instead of who he perceives as losers. Point out the fact that he gave my information to a graduate of my high school who I no longer choose to have contact with and all of a sudden his ego deflates. (Once he learned of her abusive relationships, but I won't repeat all of it here because I AIN'T CRAZY.) I honestly wish he would stop it, because that is the past. I learned the hard way that one usually does not maintain such relationships because we all grow and change quite a bit. They are people from the past, and they stay where they should be, in the past.
It did, however, make me think that if I were to write a play about said subject exactly what it would be about. Obviously the heroine of the story would be me or as close to me as possible. A West Side kid at an East Side school, forever locked in an awkward moment, in a plaid skirt, loafers, carrying a backpack full of stuff constantly. Automatically in this town they think you're white trash and live in a trailer park if you live on the West Side, but that's another story. There were some distinct cliches in said class that there always are, in mine there were three : The Bitches, The Goths, and Miscellaneous (divided into smaller sub groups like The Jocks, The Nerds, The Trekkers/Trekkies, etc.). I wasn't exactly one of any of said group, I managed to dabble here and there. In short it was kind of like an extended version of Mean Girls. But that is hardly original. I could talk about the eternal loneliness and insecurities I felt, or perhaps the vain attempts I tried to be friendly with others that fell flat. Hardly another originality.
Maybe what would make a great play would be looking into the future of my high school class. I could be the visitor from the future to go back in time and see the me of 20 years ago to tell me my future. Sure there will be ups and downs, terrible things and tragedies, but there are also good things as well. When these assholes are rotting in their own filth, you will emerge. Don't let the future drunks and bitter divorcees put you down. You will face insurmountable obstacles, but you will conquer them because no one can break you. You're going to travel to exotic lands someday. You will break the confines of this mortal coil and be freed of this. You're going to meet Morten someday, and you had forgotten all about him at this point. Countless others will as well, but of all the fans you got the fairy tale story. And maybe, just maybe, you will have had the most exotic story of them all. You will have a wonderful life, one of the highest highs and the lowest lows. But most importantly, you will survive this and be ok. It is, after all, high school.
And if this play ever gets published and performed, I would have Dad see it so he can get angry and have his delusions shattered. I think he needs that.
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