Day 2- Shutter Island

Dear Diary,

Somebody get me a black beret and a freckly, red headed girlfriend because I am basically a full-blown writer. Shit just got real weird around here. I just came from a “Acting for Writers” course where we were all encouraged to recall a time in our life when we felt especially alive or free. Naturally two events came to mind, the Norfolk 6th Grade Track Meet where I was basically MVP and had the best damn meet of my life, and the day I was let out of my medical study and spent the afternoon frolicking and skipping around campus just happy to be alive and not surrounded by meth addicted homeless people. I went with option two. So then the assignment was to act out this event not using any words but using exaggerated body movements instead. Let me paint you a picture of what this looked like: there is 20 of us in a small room, ages ranging from 24 (me) to age 65, men and women from all homosexual walks of life. Like I said, this is when shit started to get real weird. Everyone starts moving around the room swaying their arms and legs like they’re in an invisible ribbon dancing competition. I froze, this isn’t my kind of deal. The teacher kept encouraging me to “move! Let your body take over, free yourself!” Unfortunately, my mind is ten times more powerful than my body and would never let it look like such a douche bag regardless of what everyone else was doing. The best I could come up with was a hoolah like dance where I waved my arms in front of me and shuffled my feet around the room with my head glued to the ground like I was Rain Man. But I still like to think I came away with more pride than the woman with the curly hair who needed a bra who called herself an “actoor,” not just an actor, but an act-ooor. This specific woman is also getting her Masters in poetry. Great plan, if there is one thing the job market is lacking today it has got to be poets. She used the word “idear” when describing various things about herself. Spare the self-description, using the word “idear” says plenty about a person. I’ll place it in the category with the others who say things like “uman”instead of human, and mattur, instead of mature.

But all cynicism aside, day two has gone pretty swell. I don’t want to boast, but I’ve even made a few friends here. We’ve got a group. We sit together at breakfast, lunch and dinner and save each other spots when we go to various panel discussions and film reviews. My new friends are from Dartmouth, Harvard and Columbia… And it was so funny because the two guys from Harvard and Columbia were joking about how they always feels like such assholes saying they’re from Columbia and Harvard when people ask what college they went to. Naturally, I chimed in and told them I knew exactly what they were talking about. Nebraska is right up there, and I hate to sound pompous but it’s where I went, and that’s just how it is so we might as well all accept it. We all shared quite a smugish chuckle over this. And then things got really rowdy last night at the reception as we were all sipping on our one free complimentary drink. Give some writers free wine and an alternative-hippy brand beer and things are bound to get a little out of control. Although I hate when I have to consciously sip my drink slowly when I’m around new people who do not drink as fast as I do. Especially last night when we didn’t get our one free drink until 9:15 p.m.! About half way through dinner at 5:30 I started getting the shakes wondering where the hell bar was. I don’t need to drink, I just prefer it. And besides, I don’t need to make excuses. Anybody who uses that condescending line, “what, do you need alcohol to have fun?” obviously doesn’t drink, or obviously isn’t fun. I had my one free drink at 9:00 and was fine after that.

This has been my first break all day from sitting in class and I’ve surprisingly enjoyed myself. If I can figure out a way to go back to school in the fall to get my Masters in screenwriting well by golly I’m gonna do it. Because if there’s one thing this job market needs besides poets, it’s screenwriters. Right now at this moment I am sitting on the porch at what is called “the old Mansion” on campus. It sits on the highest peak and has a gorgeous view of the ocean. And yes, it’s as creepy as it sounds. So even though I love the scenic view, I can’t stop looking over my shoulder wondering at what moment I am going to take a rusty axe in my back. So I think it’s time I go.

XOXO
Blossom