Yikes, a long lapse

Sorry I haven't updated this thing in a while-- it's been a combination of stress, business, and general malaise (I admit that Sebastian and David having nearly dropped their blogs has contributed more than I thought it would).

I'll be home in eleven days, which absolutely boggles my mind. I've met a lot of great people over here, and while I'm perfectly ready to leave and come home at this point it really pains me not knowing when I'll next be in this country. I must visit some time in the coming year, though I don't know how I'll afford it. Perhaps it would not be a bad Christmas present to ask for. Perhaps I'll get up off my lazy bum and get a job.

I still have an essay to write for the Kenyon people, and in all honesty I honestly don't see it being any good at this point. I'm so clocked out that I may not actually be inside the normal time-stream. I have this whole writers' festival thing tomorrow, about 12 hours of setup, productions, and then cleanup. Frankly, I've been so lethargic today that I worry about my energy levels for the performance-- but we'll see what we can do. I'm only moderately nervous, but that may change. There's a part of me that wishes I did theater very frequently, because during high school I stopped getting nervous for performances altogether. I miss that easy confidence.

Theater no longer affords me the kind of joy it used to. It feels like a lot of work and not much emotional satisfaction. I enjoy playing my part in the telling of a story, but more and more it just feels like I should be working on my own stories. I'm developing a kind of isolationism in my creative endeavors-- that is, being a part of a team only gives me so much pleasure anymore. That said, I love sharing my own work and I love to see the work of others. I suppose collaborating would be appealing to me if it were in a different medium... I don't know.

I don't really like memorizing lines. I only sometimes enjoy rehearsals. The adrenaline rush of performance has given way to a general sort of perfunctory discomfort at the thought of something going wrong. I no longer feel the desire to put that kind of pressure on myself.

Margaret said that they might be doing "Our Town" at Kenyon next year, which will very conveniently dissuade me from being involved in that production, at least. I've been there, done that (twice), I think I've gotten all I can out of the experience. If it weren't for my constant desire to meet new people, I think it would be a lot easier to just say "eh, I think I'll sit this year out." I'll have to trust Ryan and Anthony to introduce me to any individuals of character.

There's a risk that I may become a recluse next year. If this happens and I become a total slacker, please stop me. If this happens and I'm writing consistently, please leave me to my devices.

I saw Exeter's (newly-formed) improv group perform last night. They made me miss the Burpees. I really hope to make it to many shows next year. Maybe I'll even be able to make it to the whole 24 Hrs., for once.

I will be very happy when, in three days, these performances (and the essay, God willing) will be behind me.

I can't think of much else to rant about except to continually express my love for Phoenix Wright, which I've been replaying lately, and to express my (considerable) anticipation for its sequel, which is unfortunately not due out until early next year. Its subtitle, "Justice for All," I find particularly appealing.

I'll let you guys know how the performances go tomorrow.