Summerstock - End of the night, and another unpleasant discovery

The bar closed down at two. All three James were puking drunk at this point, and Marta was the only one who was sober enough to drive the company van back. I could barely stand. There was going to be hell to pay tomorrow. We all piled into the van, which was somehow both harder and easier to manage. Harder; because none of us were actually coordinated enough to get in the van, and easier - because nobody much cared where the ended up.

"Hey, we're missing some people! Coop and umm.... Carissa?"

"I'm here!"

"Katie?"

"I'm here!"

"Shit... umm... Crystal?" No answer. Well that wasn't good. It was a long trek back to the theater. An argument broke out whether or not we should look for them; although nobody was really up for the task. Luckily, while we were still debating who was the most sober besides Marta, Coop and Crystal, both very mussed, came out of the bar.

And into the moonlight. Before any of us could react, Coop transformed. It wasn't pleasant on uneasy stomachs. Sort of like a big wave, followed by a few aftershocks. Those of us who hadn't puked suddenly felt the need to. But when it was all over, Coop was a wolf.

And through my drunken haze, everything made sense - the non-speaking roles, the flea joke, the reason he was at Darkwoods. And then it hit me. He was banging one of the nymphs. And he was a wolf. I wasn't sure which was worse.

Summerstock- Irish Car Bombs and Other surprises

I drained what was left of my Rum and Coke. “Fine. You don't think I'll make it. I'll prove it to you. If I stick it out, you,” and I pointed straight at James. “owe me a bottle of booze. Grey Goose, preferably. I'm a classy bitch. If I don't stick it out, you can have...”

“Your cabin, your fedora and a bottle of Baileys. I think that's about equal.”

“My cabin? Why? I share it.”

“With only Marta. I have to share with Drake and Dan. And Bill. It sucks.”

“Marta? What do you think?” She just shrugged. “Won't that be kind of awkward?”

“Please. With this group I've seen more of the male sex than I ever wanted to.” She made a face and crunched on some ice.

James patted her shoulder. “Oh honey, you just haven't seen the right ones. Troll's dick is enough to make anyone go for pussy.” I couldn't believe a cat, well cat-person, used the word pussy like that. I wanted to say something, but I wasn't entirely sure if it would be considered racist.

“James darling, there's not a dick in the world that could make me go straight.”

“I would say the same about pussy.”

“What about pussies with penises?” And that remark was out of my mouth before I could stop it. My hands flew to my lips, but it was too late. James looked confused for a moment, and then started laughing. Oh thank god.

“You're right Sophie. Alright Marta, I take back everything I said. Just for that, I'm buying everyone at this table a drink.” He stood up, kissed Theo on the lips, and walked to the bar without asking what we wanted.

“Oh lord, he's going to get us Irish car bombs.” Marta put her head on the table. “I don't think I can do another.”

Theo groaned too. “I'm already sloshed. I'm going to have to sleep in the river for a week to recover.” By this point Prixus had either finished his tale, or needed another drink – and the group surrounding him broke up. Coop also went to get another drink, and Minnie sauntered over to our table as James came back with a tray filled with the bits for an Irish car bomb.

“Ooh, what's the occasion?” Minnie asked.

“My new girl Sophie here just proved she's not the goody-goody he thought she was.” Marta said proudly.

“Your new girl? Careful sweetheart, I might get jealous.” Minnie pouted. Marta pulled Minnie into her lap and the snakes went nuts, although they didn't bite Marta. “Are you actually going to drink this, or shall I?”

“Can you? I'm not up for it.” Marta held on to Minnie's waist as the medusa took the two glasses. Theo, James and I did the same.

“CHEERS!” We pounded the drinks. James, Minnie and I managed to drain them, but Theo had to stop halfway before gagging.

“Gross..” Theo said, wiping his mouth. James picked up the curdled remains of Theo's drink and finished it off. I couldn't watch, so I turned to Marta and Minnie.

Who were making out. Or at least I think they were. Minnie had turned around so she was straddling Marta, and you couldn't see faces, only the snakes twining around both of them. I guess I was wrong about Minnie and Coop.

Summerstock- swearing up a storm

I'm not scared of theatre. Theatre I know. Crazy actors I know. Grumpy techies I know. Diva directors know. Sets falling apart, audience members dying, people puking onstage, I've seen it all. But this.... I couldn't believe that someone would do this to me. As soon as we bid goodnight to our director, I turned to my so-called production manager.

“What the hell?”

“I know, who would believe Paul Grayson is still directing shows? He works under an alias of course.”

“What the hell?”

“I probably should've told you this before, but Darkwoods is a supernatural theatre.”

“What the hell?”

“I know.... it's hard to believe, but the supernatural does exist.”

“The hell?”

“I thought if I told you before, really told you anyway, you'd think I was crazy and you wouldn't want to work here. I scared off three other potentials that way.”

“FUCK!”

“Do you want some sleep? We have limited space so we share cabins – you're with me.”

“SHIT!” Now Marta looked really hurt.

“I thought it would be nice – I mean yeah, we'll see a lot of each other, but at least we can keep everything consolidated.”

I snapped out of my shock just a bit. “No Marta, I'm still... well. The director is dead!”

“I know. He's not even the worst you're going to meet.”

Summerstock - The Library

When I finally dusted myself and walked into the bar, it was empty except for the cast and crew. Empty wasn't really the right word since we took up roughly three quarters of the tables, but there wasn't anybody outside of our group. The bartender looked bored; clearly he was used to scads of weird looking people coming in on a slow night. I made my way to the bar, and squished in between two of the elves.

“What do you want?” He ignored the two elves – sometimes it pays to be female. And human.

“Rum and Coke.” I wasn't about to piss anyone of by ordering something more complicated, at least not until the crush died down.

“Starting a tab, or pay now?”

I handed him my card. “Keep it open.” I took my drink and headed towards the largest table. Coop was there listening to Prixus expound on some bit of choreography, and how it represents something-or-other in context of the show. In other words, shop talk. I listened for about two minutes before getting really bored. So I turned to Coop.

“Do we have to talk about the show?”

He laughed. If Coop had one flaw, and I wasn't about to admit that he did, his laugh was not sexy at all. It was short and high-pitched. Not cute. “I know. You can take the actors out of the theater, but you can't take the theater out of the actor. Especially us.”

“Why's that?”

“Because we're in the middle of nowhere. There's nothing to do except shows, so it's all we can talk about.”

“Why are you at Darkwoods? I mean everything is so... weird.”

“You know James? The fairy? We went to school together and his family has been involved with Darkwoods for years. I auditioned, and apparently they liked what I could do. I've been working here ever since. This is my first lead though.”

“Is it? That's fantastic!” I leaned in closer, or at least I was about to when Minnie cut in. One of her snakes hissed at me so I backed off a couple of feet.

“Hey Coop, what are you drinking?” She leaned an elbow on the table and coyly twirled her hair. The snake didn't seem to mind, only occasionally nipping her finger. Coop cocked his head towards her. Suddenly I felt like an intruder, so I wandered off to find Marta. She was sitting in a corner with James the cat person, and Theo.

“Hey Sophie! How's it going?” I shrugged. “Enjoyed your first week at Darkwoods?”

“It's been interesting.” An understatement, to be sure.

James laughed and took a sip of his cream-based drink. “I told you Marta, you should've stuck with one of the local kids. Sophie here looks like she's going to walk out and never come back.”

“Yeah, but do you know how hard it is to find a decent assistant from among you weirdos? There's not a supe or myth in the world with the skills to stage manage. And I can't run this asylum by myself.” Marta waved her arms, indicating the who bar. James took another sip, and looked pointedly at me.

“So kiddo, you gonna quit?”

“Yep. I just came over here to tell you just that.” I managed a straight face for about five seconds before Marta's shocked expression was too much for me. The others joined in slowly, even Marta, although her laughter was definitely tinged with nerves. “No, I think I'll stick it out. I mean, how bad could it get?” Their faces seemed to indicate that it could get very bad.

Post For Yesterday

3 more shows. That's it. It makes me so happy. Also. I feel like a bad person. Trying so hard to keep up, and failing miserably - SIGH. Oh well. No story, just me writing. and apologizing. and running out of steam. At least I got more than 5 hours of sleep.

Summerstock- A night out

There's more... I just didn't feel like doing it tonight.

I don't know why I agreed to go out. I mean, with all the nymphs around, who would even look at me. But Coop asked if I wanted to go to The Library with the rest of the cast, and I couldn't turn down those gorgeous brown eyes. I stared at the mirror, it wasn't pretty. Dark circles under my eyes, a total lack of make-up, schlubby clothes, and I really needed my roots done. I put my hair in a ponytail, threw on a clean shirt, and made a quick stab at covering up the circles under my eyes. That's about all I had time to do before I heard honking outside.

Prixus was sitting in the drivers seat; Minnie was in the passenger's seat – presumably to give her snakes room. Everyone else was piled in the back, luckily The Library wasn't that far. Even Marta was in the back, so I didn't feel so bad about fraternizing with the actors. I apparently was the last one to be picked up and there were two spots left – on the floor or on Bill the faun's lap. I optioned for the former. I figured it was safer. Prixus sped off, or at least as fast as he could with roughly 20 people in a single van. The dirt and gravel road made for a very uneven ride, but we were so packed in, none of us were moving. It was a shame really, I was kind of looking forward to “accidentally” falling into Coop's lap. It didn't help that one of the nymphs, I think it was Carissa, was already occupying that sacred place.

It was a long drive to The Library, and despite being packed in like sardines, we still managed to end up in a even larger tangle. I wasn't entirely sure where my arms and legs were; all I knew was that my face was squashed up against the door. When we finally stopped, Prixus had to come around to open the van door for us. The second my head was no longer stuck to metal, I fell ingloriously out of the vehicle. About four others followed, landing on top of me. As the rest of the party clambored over us, I realized that my chances of getting Coop interested in me were dwindling with each foot on my back.

Summerstock - First rehearsal.

He was the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. Black hair with auburn highlights, large soulful brown eyes, a wide feral smile and a tall, powerful body. His button-up shirt was clearly short a few buttons so everyone could see his well-defined pecs and his ever-so-slightly furred chest. And he looked human. I stopped in the doorway and just stared. It was like a sock to the gut.

It was actually a slap on the back - Marta really wanted to get by.

“Marta.” I nudged her. “Who's that?” I pointed over at my new boyfriend and she merely groaned.

“Oh, that's Coop. He's playing..... what show are we working on right now?”

“Princess Bride the Musical.”

“Right. He's playing Wesley. Stay away from him.” I was taken aback. Did he have a jealous girlfriend, a jealous boyfriend? Was he that much of a jerk?

I tried to sound nonchalant as I asked “Why?” I think I failed.

Marta grinned. “He has fleas.” Oh, that was informative. I didn't really have a good comeback, so I went over to our shared table and started setting up my computer, notebook, script, pencil jar, tissues, and other necessary items. In about thirty seconds our table went from spotless to 'where did all this crap come from?'. In that time the room started filling up with various members of the company. The vast majority weren't human. I'd never seen so many mythical people in my life – elves, trolls, a centaur, a woman with snakes in her hair... it was insane. Considering I didn't believe these creatures a week ago, I was impressed that I was still standing. Well, sitting anyway. It seemed like the only ones who were human were Marta, Coop, the translator and me.

Our director stood up. “Rmhereharwa Wreh. Frehhgrahh garb hermrah. Rfrorgh GRAH grehfrmgh.” The speech went on for a good five minutes. Marta was taking notes, most of the cast was falling asleep. Finally Paul stopped for a bit, and the translator took his turn. Frankly, it still sounded like gibberish, mostly about true love and fairy tales, epic adventures, families, good and evil, and All That Jazz, but I took notes anyway. You never know what might come up later; the director says true love, and next thing you know there's heart confetti everywhere. But I kept stealing glances at Coop. And from the looks of things, I wasn't the only one. All of the nymphs kept jostling each other to sit next to him. For his part, he ignored everything around him; his major concern seemed to be a persistent scalp itch.

Life is a Puzzle

Life is a puzzle.

Maybe like a jigsaw.

You have to put the pieces together

Before you see the whole.

Life is a puzzle.

Maybe like a riddle.

The clues are tricky but do include

The meaning of it all.

Life is a puzzle.

Maybe like a crossword.

If you know just some of the answers

The rest will come to you.

Life is a puzzle.

Maybe like sudoku.

It all boils down to numbers

The trouble is the order.

Life is a puzzle.

Maybe something logic.

Take it step by step and think it through

It's not that hard to do.

Life is a puzzle.

Of what kind I'm not sure.

Or maybe it isn't but all I know

Is that I'm really quite confused.

Life is a puzzle.

Summerstock - Wherein Sophie meets the director

I was lost. And I was pretty sure I was going to die. How did anyone manage to see shows here? I kept driving and driving, and there were no signs, no buildings, no break in the trees that would indicate a theater anywhere around here. The road had already gone from smooth to pot-holey and fairly soon it was going to turn into gravel. If it turned into dirt, I was going to turn around. I already lost all radio reception, and my CD player was broken. This probably was not worth it.

After driving another five miles on gravel, I finally saw a sign for Darkwoods Theatre. Thank god, because it was getting dark, and I was really starting to get freaked out. I turned onto a dirt road, and finally I saw lights, a building, and a break in the trees. I was going slowly now, trying to get a lay of the land. As I drove closer, I saw a parking area – all dirt, and a cabin next to a large building. I saw Marta at the door of the cabin; she was waving. I pulled into an empty parking spot, and grabbed my backpack. Hopefully I wouldn't need anything else until tomorrow.

“I'm so glad you made it! I was afraid you'd get lost!”

“Me too. If I hadn't seen those signs when I did, I probably would've turned around.”

“Well, the cabin where you'll be staying is around the side. It's fully furnished, except there's no TV or anything. We don't exactly get great reception up here.”

“I've noticed.”

Marta looked a bit uneasy. “I didn't want to have to do this to you your first night here, but the artistic director really wants to meet you now.”

I shrugged. “That's no problem. I mean, I'm tired, but I can handle it.” That did not seem to appease her.

“It's just that... well, remember when I asked if you believed in the supernatural?” Without waiting for my answer she opened the door to the cabin, and ushered me inside. I saw a dead man sitting in a comfy chair. His skin, what was left of it, was patchy and gray. There were a few wisps of gray hair on his head. His jaw was half off. Both eyes were completely sunken in and clouded over. He wore a button up shirt, tweed pants with suspenders, and a bowtie. Everything was threadbare and heavily patched. Why was there a dead man in the office? And then he stood up. I stumbled back into Marta, and was about to scream when she put her hand on my shoulder.

“Sophie, this is Paul Grayson, the artistic director of Darkwoods Theatre.”

“Ggrahrwa.” Said the zombie, sticking out his hand, which was missing two fingers. I was definitely going to die.

Microsoft Office

I'm downloading Open Office as we speak. I haven't written today because I was an idiot who couldn't figure out why WORD wasn't working. My trial version expired. Doi. I'm also really tired. Didn't want to write today. Just mess around on my favorite sites. I swear, I need a real day off. And a writing class. I don't hate everything I've written yet, but there's moments in all of them where I'm thinking 'that could be better.' In six months I'm going to hate all of it. But right now, it's a glass of wine (Chilean Carmenere - nummy) and some cheap-ass rosemary bread with olive oil and white balsamic. Oh yeah, good times. It's raining outside, tomorrow is going to be a day filled with drinking and trivia - and continually moving my car. Maybe shopping will happen somewhere in there too. Who knows. I'm tired, and I'm going to bed.

The Not-So-Little Leprechaun

Once upon a time there was a little leprechaun. Only he wasn’t very little. Oh, he was a young leprechaun, only about 100 years old, but he wasn’t little. In fact he was almost three-and-a-half feet tall, which is really very tall for a leprechaun. All of the leprechauns lived under a hill in a rural part of Ireland. This den was meant for people who were no taller than two-and-a-half feet and so had very low ceilings. This poor leprechaun who was so much taller kept bumping his head against the ceiling. He could not sit on the toadstools like all the other leprechauns and he could not prance and dance as gaily – his long limbs would not allow it.

Because he could not stand up inside, the other leprechauns put him to work making gold to put in pots at the end of the rainbow. It was boring work, and the tall leprechaun hated it. He wanted to be out in the open with the other leprechauns; playing tricks on humans, dancing with the other wee creatures, and singing to the brook. He longed to go out where he did not bang his head on everything. But the other leprechauns were afraid that the tall leprechaun would not be able to hide from humans, and so kept him in the dark, busy making gold.

One day, while he was stuck making gold, he got so tired that he fell asleep in one of the gold pots. Not noticing him in the pot, the other leprechauns put more gold on top of him and took the pot to the end of a rainbow for somebody to find. When the very tall leprechaun woke up, he found himself buried. He dug his way out of the gold pot, and found himself outside, at the end of a rainbow. He was so happy that he danced and pranced and capered about. He danced so much, that he didn’t see the poor Irish boy had come upon him.

“One of the Little Folk! If I capture him, he will give me three wishes! I can be rich and happy forever!” So the little boy thought. So he crept up behind the capering leprechaun, who still didn’t see him. The little boy leapt, and reached out for the leprechaun. It was at that moment the tall leprechaun noticed the human boy, but it was too late, the boy had grabbed him.

But the boy could not hold on – for this leprechaun was so much bigger than others. He kicked and struggled, and the boy could not keep his hands on the leprechaun. The leprechaun danced and pranced out of the boy’s reach. The boy stood up and chased after the leprechaun, but his long legs meant he stayed far out of reach of the boy. The leprechaun raced back to the den of his family.

As he ducked inside, all the other leprechauns were startled to see their tall brother come from outdoors. As he related his adventures, they were very impressed. No leprechaun, having been caught in that manner, had ever been able to get away. They realized they were wrong to keep the very tall leprechaun locked up – he may not be able to hide like the others, but he was strong and could run faster than all of them. So the tall leprechaun got what he always wanted – to dance and sing, and play pranks, and he only occasionally had to make gold. Since he proved so useful, he even got his own room where he didn’t have to crouch down, and he lived happily ever after.

Summerstock - Meeting the Crew, part the first

I hate tech. Actually, that’s not true. I hate the first day of tech. To be really specific, I hate the first HOUR of tech. You spend three weeks in rehearsal, getting everything set up on paper, and then one day you come in and suddenly everything that was merely paper is now very large and very real and very in front of you. You hope and pray that everything is in order but there’s that niggling feeling that it isn’t. And if it isn’t, somebody could get hurt, could die, things could break, or, worst of all, tech will be slow. At least here I didn’t have to worry about anybody dying – either they already were, or they were damned hard to kill. Well there were the nymphs, but I was kind of hoping one of them would die, disappear, or have a child stop believing in them… whatever it took.

Plus there was the crew. In a normal theatre, they were cranky enough; set in their ways, lazy, and territorial. It was tricky – they knew the theatre, and resented intruders, but I knew the show and they couldn’t really do their job without me, at least not for the first day. That was at a normal theatre.

Here… well, the crew included dwarves and vampires. They had all of the normal crew traits with the added bonus of having been doing theatre since my grandparents were babies, and not only did they hate intruders, they especially hated human intruders. But I knew the show, and they didn’t. And luckily, I had George on my side.

“Wooo….”

“Hey George. Ready for tech?”

“Whoooo….” He moaned mournfully. Guess he didn’t like tech much either. Just then we heard a crash.

“HEADS!” I looked up, and saw the scrim heading towards me. I dived out of the way just in time. The scrim landed on top of George, who didn’t seem to notice. “Sorry lass, just dropped my laptop, then forgot I had the rope in t’other hand.” I peered backstage, and there was one of the dwarves in front of the rail with a computer at his feet. He was currently trying to pull out the scrim, but was having a bit of difficulty, it was probably out of weight. I picked up his laptop, which seemed unscathed. On it was a full screen view of World of Warcrack, and the dwarf’s character was apparently an orc. The dwarf saw what I was looking at and grabbed the laptop back.

“Nay, lass, that’s an expensive computer, that is. What are ya doing here?”

“Albert, I have to go over the run list, props list, and other stuff with you.”

“Wooo….”

“Can it ye daft ghost.” I never understood why somebody who was born in raised in Vancouver would have a thick Scottish accent. Maybe it was a dwarf thing.

Summerstock -The interview

I feel terrible. I missed a day. Oh well, I'll make it up. Just not today. Today, more adventures with the bizarro summerstock.

It was 10:45 am, and I was at Greenstem Park. It wasn’t a very big park, more like a strip of land that hadn’t been claimed yet – there was about ten trees, two park benches and something that could be called a pond if one was feeling generous. Nobody went there unless they wanted privacy. I felt pretty confident that the only other person going to come by was my interviewer. Well, maybe a drug dealer, but that was just a bonus. I sat down on one of the benches to wait.

About ten minutes later, someone else entered walked into the park. She was about average height, a bit on the chubby side, with frizzy brown ringlets. She was wearing a pink v-neck sweater and black slacks. She scanned the park for a few seconds before her eyes landed on me. Her mouth pursed, as if she wasn’t entirely sure if I was the right person, but I stood up and started walking towards her. That seemed to make up her mind, she smiled and joined me.

“Hello, you must be Sophia. I’m Marta. I’m the production stage manager for Darkwoods Summer Theatre.” She held out her hand, and I shook it. Motioning to the bench I just vacated, we sat down.

“Yes, but I go by Sophie, I’m very glad I could meet you.”

“Me too. So Sophie, tell me about yourself.” And so the interview proceeded. Marta asked all of the normal interview questions – my background, experience, education, strength, weaknesses, blah, blah, blah. I think my answers were good, although I fumbled a bit over one or two questions.

“So, why did you decide to apply for Darkwoods?”

“I saw the notice, and well, I figured that summer stock would be a great experience for me. Besides, to be completely honest, the fact that you’re paying, and there’s room and board on top of that, makes the whole thing a lot more attractive.”

She smiled. “I can appreciate that. I have to tell you, you aren’t the usual sort I get for an assistant. Usually… well, they aren’t really right for the job. I finally told the director that this time I needed a real person to help me out and he seemed to agree. Tell me, have you worked with anyone with… umm… special… umm… abilities?” She seemed really uncomfortable with the question, as if she was trying not to be rude or something, but with such urgency that I was taken aback.

“I once worked on a production of Big River with deaf students. I know some sign language, not a lot though. Is that what you mean?”

“Kinda.” Her brow screwed up, and after a few moments, “Do you believe in the supernatural?”

Now that was a really odd question. I laughed. “Well, supposedly there’s a ghost in my college theatre. I’ve never seen him, but any odd noise was supposedly George.”

“You went to CLU?”

“Yes. Why, did you go there to?”

“No, but I, well, know somebody who did.” She murmured vaguely. She brightened though. “Well, that seems to be all the questions I have for you. Do you have any for me?” I shook my head. “If you do, feel free to e-mail me.” She stood up “It was very nice meeting you. I’ll let you know what I decide in a day or two.” I stood up as well and shook hands. Without another a word, she was gone. Well that went well. Strange, but well.

Summerstock - Wherein Sophie meets the ensemble.

And I give my main character for this one a name. And she meets people. Or... whatever.

“Hi everyone, I’m Sophie – I’m the new PA for Darkwoods Summer Theatre. Now, since I don’t know any of you people…”

“We’re not people!” Shouted a voice from the back

“Ookay… so what are you then?”

“Well I’m a fairy.” I couldn’t see who said it, but it was a deep, masculine voice, like from the bowels of hell.

“Just because you’re gay, doesn’t mean you’re not a person.”

“No, I’m actually a fairy. Not human. Dumbass.” Same deep voice with a soupcon of scorn.

“And I’m an elf.”

“I’m a pixie.”

“I’m a water sprite.”

“And we’re nymphs!” That seemed to come from the entire female contingent.

“Right, of course you are. Still, I don’t know anybody, so I’m just going to go down the list and call your names, and I can put faces to them. Crista?”

“Here!” One of the nymphs. Blonde hair, blue eyes, short.

“Carissa?”

“Here!” Another nymph. Blonde hair, green eyes, very short.

“Crystal?”

“Here!” Nymph. Blonde hair, green eyes, very, VERY short. I went through the rest of the nymphs; Katie, Kristen, Kirsten, Kasey, Caitlin, Cassie, and Candace. All very thin, ranging in size from short to midget, and most were blonde. Actually, Kasey was a red head, and Cassie was a brunette, and the only dark-skinned one out of the bunch. The rest apparently hadn’t seen sun for years. I was never going to keep track of them.

“So, what happens if I call someone the wrong name?” The chorus nymphs glared at me. And then one of them started giggle and in about two seconds they were on the floor completely incapacitated. I hated all of them already. “Okay, now for the boys… James?” The deep voiced fairy raised his hand. The boys were easier – oh sure, there were three James, (who would have thought mythical creatures would have such boring names?) but one was a fairy, one was some sort of cat-person, and one was a troll. In addition to them, there was Brendan the pixie, Theo the water sprite, Drake and Dan the elves, Bill the faun, Armand the fairy, and Cassidy the nymph. I figured the troll was only there to either toss the nymphs, or be part of the scenery. Or both.

“Alright everyone. Prixus is going to be late for rehearsal, so the dance captain,” I looked down at my sheet, “Cassidy, will go over what has already been choreographed. I’m here to watch the clock, or if you need anything.” A glint came into the ensemble’s eyes. That last statement needed amending. “Related to rehearsal and the show, of course.” I didn’t think it would help that much, but it made me feel a little better anyway.

Writer's Block

I'm exhausted. This is my day off, and all I've wanted to do is sit and watch Xena: Warrior Princess. I'm not really joking. The rest of this week - I essentially work 9am - 11:30 pm. I do this three weeks in a row, from Tuesday-Sunday. It sucks ass. So, instead of writing fiction, or a true story, like I would like to do, I'm just going to rant and rave about how tired I am. True, none of what I do is that hard, really... but I would like to take a week off. I can't, really, because I need the money. But whatever creativity I do have is severely diminished. On a personal note, I've found a place that does trivia on Monday's, which makes me really happy. And I have a couple of new ideas taking shape- including getting out of a couple of ruts. Sigh. I thought this would be an interesting New Year's Resolution to keep, but I didn't quite realize how hard it would be, especially since I'm trying not to make this a diary. Well, ce la vie, because this is a diary entry. Oh well. I never said this HAD to be fiction, only that I keep writing. Maybe something will come, and in two weeks from now, I'll stop being completely exhausted. In the meantime, good night and good luck.

A conversation

This is a somewhat representative conversation over headset, variations of this happen daily.

A Cast of Characters
Katie: Stage Manager
Penny: Assistant Stage Manager
Jeff: Light Board Op
Tracey: Spotlight Op #1
Travis: Spotlight Op #2
Frank: Lead Flyman
Dave: Crew Guy
Jess: Crew Girl
Plus various interlopers.
Conversations on Headset
Katie: Places please. Places for the top of the show. By the way, what’s Ingrid’s character’s name in Casablanca?
Jess: Ilsa.
Katie: That fits. Everyone on headset.
Everyone (variously): Spot’s on. I’m here. I’m on. What? Flyman’s on. Check!
Katie: Great.
Frank: Just so you know Katie, there’s a problem with the scrim; it’s pushed forward a bit. We should be able to get out, but it will be slow.
Katie: Fabulous. How are we doing on places?
Penny: Almost there. Just waiting on Anna.
Tracy: Aren’t we always?
Conductor: We’re ready in the pit.
Sound Op: House manager says the house is ours.
Katie: Great, Penny? We’re waiting on you.
Penny: I have places.
Katie: Alright – standby everybody.
Sound Op; Going off
Conductor: Going off
Katie: Lights ten, go. Spots one and two go. Okay, so does anybody know the name of a nun movie with Goldberg?
Dave: Sister Act. Beepbrpbepbeepbeerrrrrrp….
Jess: Goddammit, who’s phone’s on?
Jeff: Oops, sorry that’s mine.
Katie: Standby lights fifteen. Lights fifteen, go.
Travis: Well, Anna sounds good so far. Knock on wood.
Dave: I’ll show you wood….
Travis, Dave and Jeff: Bend over.
Tracy: Jesus.
Jess: I know, I hate being on headset.
Frank: You love it.
Katie: Standby lights 25 and 30, spots one and two. Lights twenty-five, spots one and two, go. Lights thirty, go.
Frank: Ooh, we’ve got a good audience!
Katie: What are the names of the Seven dwarves? Sneezy, Dopey, Grumpy, Doc…
Jess: Happy,
Tracy: Sleepy
Dave: Bashful.
Katie: Ahh. Bashful! That’s it.
Jeff: Wait, that just seems like bad parenting, leaving a kid alone like that…
Penny: Are you watching the show? You aren’t supposed to do that.
Dave: Besides, it’s Friday.
Jess: Logic-Free Friday!
Jeff: God. How many of these things have we done?
Katie: Standby lights 67 through 89, spots one and two. Lights 67 and spot two, go. Light 69 and spot one go. You know, I can see better right now – is there a light on that’s not supposed to be?
Jeff: I don’t think so.
Tracy: There’s a dark spot up left. Did something slip?
Jeff; Possibly. I’ll check during intermission.
Katie: Lights 73, go.
Dave: Did anyone hear about the football game?
Frank: What football game?
Jess: What’s football?
Travis: Who played?
Dave: So I take it the answers a no.
Katie: Lights 78, go. Actually, the Cubs won, 17-10. Lights 81, go.
Jeff: Sweet.
Katie: Lights 85, go.
Penny: Just so you all know, Chelsea is “it” today.
Tracy; Fantastic, I’ll have to watch for it.
Katie: Lights 89 and spots out, go.
Travis: What show are we on?
Penny: 72.
Travis: And how many do we have left?
Penny: 34.
Frank: Eww….
Tracy: What the hell did Graham just say?
Frank: Sounded like Mrfreble gosh darn thatrebdila.
Tracy: That’s what I thought.
Katie: Standby lights 97. Lights 97, go. Jess, why isn’t the boat coming on?
Jess: Shit, totally spaced, sorry.
Dave: Goddammit Jess.
Penny: Oh please Dave, like you can talk.
Katie: Standby Lights 104 and spot two. Lights and spot, go.
Jeff: So has anybody seen Archer?
Dave: Yup
Frank: I love that show!
Tracy: Ohmigod, best show EVER! ‘The Mole’ is my favorite.
Travis: Never seen it.
Penny: Nope
Katie: Tom Jone’s song, 1971
Jess: What’s Up Pussycat?
Travis: She’s A Lady?
Katie: She’s a Lady.
Frank: You haven’t seen Archer? You have too, it’s awesome.
Jeff: I just got the DVD’s from Netflix.
Katie: Where’s Bob? Oh wait, there he is. Penny, why was he late?
Penny: He was here – Anna was distracting him.
Katie: Great. Standby lights 120 and spot two out. Lights 120 and spot two out, go.
Dave: I think we should do Standby-free Sundays.
Frank: I think we all know the show well enough by now.
Katie: Alright fine. Anybody up for madlibs?
Tracy: If we do madlibs I quit.
Penny: I wonder what would happen if we all quit?
Dave: I like that idea, let’s do it.
Katie: You would. Noun?
Jess: Waterhose.

Dave: I'll show you waterhose.

All: Bend over.

Random Actor: Grody.

Katie: Who let an actor on headset? Who was that?

Penny: Sorry, George heard we were playing madlibs. Won’t happen again.

Dave: Goddammit Penny.

At the Restaurant

I swear, I'm going to stop introducing characters, and get to the heart of the matter. Maybe. Kinda sorta. Okay, there's at least one character still to meet. Maybe two....

The banter continued all the way to the restaurant, getting more and more juvenile until finally Steven parked the car and Ray got in one more jab. “PENIS!” They concluded this was the definitive last word on the subject, and piled out of the car. A small figure waved at them and started sprinting towards them. Diana and Bobbie both groaned. Celia leapt onto Ray, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck.

“Ray! I’ve missed you so much! How was your trip? Hi Bobbie. Hi Diana. Oh my god, I have so much to tell you! But first you have to introduce me to your brothers. Oh I’m so glad I finally get to meet you guys! Ray has told me so much about both of you. Oh I’m so glad you’re back!” With that she kissed him hard. And then prolonged it. When everyone else was starting to feel uncomfortable and/or annoyed, Steven piped up.

“So, are we going to eat or not?” Ray finally set Celia down. The restaurant was the new hit spot, serving high-end Cajun style food. Diana had been wanting to try it for weeks, but reservations were hard to come by.

“Oh my god! This place is so fancy! How did you get reservations?” Celia gushed.

“Oh, the bartender here is an old coworker of mine. Ben – I think you’ve met him Diana.” Diana wasn’t sure ‘met’ was the right word for someone she only saw sneaking out of their apartment in the morning, but she shrugged anyway.

They were seated at a round table in the middle of the restaurant. Diana was in between the Steven and Alan, Bobbie in between Steven and Ray, and Celia completing the circle. Waiters with trays were buzzing all around them, and the air was filled with the scent of New Orleans, spicy and heavy. It was heavenly. Ben the bartender was working, and sent them a round of cocktails on the house. Bobbie got the conversation started again.

“So Alan, what brings you and Steven here?”

“Ray convinced us that since he came to visit us, we needed to come visit him. Neither of us have much going on right now, so we figured we’d follow him back. Besides, he told us there were some really hot chicks here.” He nudged Diana with his elbow.

“And actually,” added Steven, “My firm has a branch out here, and I’m thinking of transferring. I need a change of scenery, and a new challenge. And being out here with Ray’s a definite plus.”

“Really? Aww, I didn’t know you cared.” Ray wiped a fake tear away. “Or that you were thinking of moving here. That would be awesome!”

“So what do you do Steven?” Diana asked, toying with her martini.

“I’m an architect. I’m technically the assistant to the project manager - have yet to do a building of my own yet. Unfortunately my branch is small, and there’s not a lot of opportunity for growth, even if I am doing most of my boss’s work. The main branch is out here, and there’s a spot for a lead that I would love to get.”

“Do you have an interview set?”

“Yeah, next Tuesday.”

“Oh my god, Tuesday! I have an essay due, and my professor won’t extend it, even though he knows I have a meet that week…” Celia continued to dominate the conversation for quite some time, and Diana went through her impressions of the Steven and Alan. Alan was fun, but he didn’t seem to take anything seriously, and frankly, he wasn’t her type. Steven on the other hand… He was a bit square, and definitely work-obsessed; Bobbie would certainly say he wasn’t nearly as handsome as either of his brothers, but Diana thought he was cute. She liked that he was passionate about work and frankly, she preferred a bit boring to an unending stream of quips. She didn’t really think she was attracted to him though – it had just been awhile for her. At the moment though, she wasn’t about to start anything. Bobbie on the other hand, was playing footsie with Alan under the table. Clearly her preference was made, and Diana didn’t think it would take very long. Just then, their food came, and Diana tuned back into the conversation.

“Bobbie, my sorority just loved the Bacall Room! We’re totally going to come back. You know what you guys should do? Karaoke. Oh my god, I love doing karaoke. Seriously, your bar would bring in so much money. We’d go all the time!” Bobbie looked like she had just swallowed a mouthful of manure. Well, at least Diana knew why Bobbie was mad at Ray. Not that it was entirely his fault, but that probably didn’t matter to Bobbie.

Presents

“Well I certainly didn’t expect this.” Arms crossed, Diana surveyed the ‘presents’ Ray brought. Both Ray and Bobbie were grinning ear-to-ear. The two men standing in front of her smiled sheepishly, and someone; Diana guessed Bobbie, decided to put stick-on ribbon bows on their heads. “Okay, I give up. Who are they?”

“They’re my brothers. The shorty is my older brother Steven, and the dirty hippie is Alan.” Ray punched them both before draping his arms over their shoulders. Steven murmured under his breath “Jackass” and Diana giggled.

“Which one is mine?” She looked to Bobbie, who shrugged.

“I haven’t decided yet. I thought we could share. Unless you have a preference?...”

“Not yet. Let me examine then, and we’ll see.” She looked them over like a pair of horses. Bobbie was right. They were cute. Maybe not drop-dead gorgeous like Ray was, but neither seemed to be quite as arrogant either, which was a definite plus. Alan, as Ray said, looked a bit like a hippie – he wore a simple green henley over torn and dirty jeans, his hair was jet black and shoulder length. He was almost as tall as Ray but a bit slimmer in build. His brown eyes held barely suppressed laughter, not surprising given the circumstances. He seemed to enjoy the examination. Not really Diana’s type, but definitely good looking. Steven on the other hand.... He wasn’t really all that short, maybe two or three inches shorter than Bobbie, with light brown hair and strikingly blue eyes. He was a bit stockier than his brothers and but stood more firmly on the ground than either of them. He was neat, his clothes clearly expensive and meticulously groomed. When she looked him in the eyes, he blushed. Well, that could be fun. But not yet, she wanted to get to know them better. If they were anything at all like Ray...

“I don’t see why we shouldn’t share them tonight. How about I take Alan and you take Steven, and we’ll switch halfway through.”

“Oh splendid, I love it! And Ray gets to fifth wheel.” That thought seemed to make Bobbie happier than anything else so far.

Ray shook his finger “Au contraire, Celia’s meeting us at the restaurant. It’s strictly a six-wheeled vehicle.” Bobbie made a face. Diana didn’t blame her. Celia was a thoroughly obnoxious blonde co-ed from the local college. She had no idea what Ray saw in her, except that she was young, pretty, and easy. And apparently at school on a gymnastics scholarship. She wondered if that was why Bobbie was mad at Ray. If so, Ray’s brothers should be careful; Bobbie was apt to do stupid things when she wanted revenge. If it wasn’t, well, Bobbie was apt to do stupid things anyway. Diana was just glad the wall between their rooms was really thick.

Alan held his arm out to Diana. “Shall we to the chariot, my lady?” Diana linked her arm and his.
“Of course good sir. And pray, where is this chariot of which you speak?” Behind her, Steven did a mock click of his heels and likewise held his arm out to Bobbie. Ray trailed the pairs as they left the girl’s apartment and headed down the stairs. As they reached the outside door, Alan untangled his arm just long enough to open the door. Diana gasped when she saw the gorgeous silver Mustang outside. “Is that our ride?” Alan nodded.

“It’s what Steven and I used to drive up here; it’s his pride and joy.”

“Are we all going to fit?”

“Nope! You’ll have to sit on my lap.”

Steven piped up from behind them. “Liar. There’s plenty of room in the backseat.”

“Yeah, if you’re a midget.” It turned out neither of them were right. There was not, in fact plenty of room, but they did all fit in the Mustang without having to sit on top of each other. That actually seemed to disappoint Alan, until he realized that he was going to be sharing the backseat with both girls.

“Ray, why did you call shotgun?”

“Old habits die hard brother. How’re you doing back there Alan?”

“Help me! They’ve made me their bitch!” He was sitting in between Diana and Bobbie, and Bobbie had been making cracks about being in the bitch seat.

“No fair girls – he’s our baby brother, our bitch!” Steven said. Ray looked back and glared pointedly at Bobbie.

“Oh, fat lot of good you two are.” Alan leaned closer to Diana, as far away from Bobbie as he could manage. “Will you at least be nice to me?”

“That depends on what you mean by ‘nice’.” Diana replied archly. Alan guffawed.

“Well, looks like I’m screwed then.”

“Oh you won’t get that lucky.”

The Little Werewolf

Once upon a time there was a little werewolf. His name was Ralph. Most of the time, he was just like his other friends. He went to school, he did his homework, he did chores when his parents reminded him, and he played like any boy his age (He was twelve years old). But for a couple days each month, he was a completely different person. His hair grew faster than normal, he was a lot stronger, and he had the sudden urge to chase cars.
Most of the time Ralph was very happy as a werewolf. As a human, he played lots of sports and he had a lot of friends. He was, I’m sorry to say, not very good at school, but not everybody is perfect. As a wolf he stayed up all night and ran through the woods, and wasn’t even tired the next morning. He got to run with his friends, the wolves, although his parents would not let him bring them in the house.
There was one thing that gave him problems. As a human, Ralph had very unruly brown hair that no amount of hairspray, hair gel, pomade, brushing or combing could tame. It was like permanent bed-head. As a wolf, the problem got even worse. He had the messiest fur coat ever seen on a werewolf. All the other werewolves in the pack teased him for it. It got to the point where Ralph would run away to the other wolves whenever a pack meeting was happening. Unfortunately, Ralph’s parents were very good trackers and always managed to catch him, and forced him to go to the pack meeting anyway.
His parents were heartily sick of this behavior from their pup. They knew he didn’t like his unruly hair, and frankly they didn’t like it much either. Everybody thought they were bad parents because Ralph was so messy-looking. So one day, out of desperation, they took Ralph to the barbershop. The barber sat Ralph down, and shaved off ALL of his hair. He looked in the mirror and saw that he was completely bald! He rubbed a hand over his now shiny head. He thought it looked kind of cool. His parents were very surprised; they thought he would hate it.
The next day at school, all his friends wanted to touch his bald head. Some thought it looked weird, but others thought it was kind of cool – like an action hero. It was a very pleasant day for Ralph, and he couldn’t wait to see what would happen when he turned into a wolf.
He didn’t have long to wait, because the moon was going to be full the next day. Ralph waited eagerly for nightfall and for the change to happen. Now, when Ralph turned into a wolf, it was a very fast process. One moment he was human, the next he was not. So that night, he walked outside, and with a blink, he was a wolf.
Only he was now an odd-looking wolf, because he had no fur at all. He looked in the mirror and what he saw was a very ugly, naked dog. His parents howled up to him.
“Ralph, it’s time for the pack meeting!” Oh no! Ralph didn’t know what to do. He thought being bald was better than messy hair, but that wasn’t true for a wolf. Plus, it was getting cold, and he need the fur to keep him warm. He tried to get out the window so he could hide in the woods with his wolf friends, but just then his parents burst in.
They laughed at poor, bald Ralph, but then they saw how sad he was so they helped him put on a sweater. Then, because they had too, they went to the pack meeting. The other werewolves teased Ralph some more, but he was so depressed he didn’t respond to it. After awhile, the other werewolves left him alone, and started to tease some else.
It was then that Ralph realized something. It didn’t matter what he looked like. The werewolves teased each other all the time, no matter what. So as long as he didn’t care about his unruly hair, they wouldn’t either.
Pack meetings became a lot easier after that, and Ralph started to make friends with the other werewolves. And as his hair grew out, he found a length that was neither too long nor too short and he lived happily ever after.

Diana at Work

Have to say.... writing the setup is hard. I want to get to the fun bits... but I need to get the pieces in place first.

She edged into the conference room, staying close to the door. Luckily nobody seemed to pay any attention to her. Except one. The wannabe soprano waved and motioned for Diana to join her. Despite the woman’s delusion about her musical prowess, Annie was actually very sweet and one of the few people Diana would miss if she left. An older lady, dishwater blonde hair well mixed with grey, Annie was in charge of most of the little office parties and knew everything that went on in the company. She took Diana under her wing when she first came to the office, stating that nobody else knew how to have fun, and proceeded to teach Diana everything she knew. She was also the head of payroll which made her a very powerful force in the office and Diana valued the guidance and friendship.

“Diana! Are you alright? I saw you sleeping at your desk, and I was going to wake you, but I figured that you never sleep at your desk so you must have needed the rest. Are you sick? Would you like me to get you some tea? There’s nothing here but cake and some soda, but I have an electric kettle in the kitchen if you want.” Annie looked so worried, Diana almost laughed.

“I’m fine Annie, honestly. Bobbie convinced me to hang out at the bar with her last night… and I helped close it down.”

Annie clucked her tongue. “Silly! I remember when I used to do things like that. My I had fun, although I don’t remember ever being tired, though I’m sure I must have been. I can’t even bring myself to stay up past midnight, and then I’m completely useless the next day. It’s such a shame. I hate becoming old. Enjoy being young and doing stupid things while you can – it won’t last forever. You’ll stop staying up all night, and then you settle down and start knitting, and next thing you know you’re old and alone and have a dozen cats. You should find a man, at least then the alone part won’t come so soon. Do you want some cake then?” Just listening to Annie made Diana’s head spin a little. Her trains of thought often took odd routes before derailing completely and the hangover wasn’t helping Diana keep up. She heard the word ‘cake’ and looked over at what was left on the table. It looked like a tribe of monkeys got to it. It was also one of those large grocery store sheet cakes with an obscene amount of cheap frosting. Her stomach rebelled a little at the thought.

“No thanks, Annie. I just came to wish Frank a happy birthday. I have to get back to work.” Not exactly true; she had to answer the phones, but the lull caused by the party meant she had time to beef up her resume. She knew it wasn’t exactly right to apply for jobs during work hours, but in the absence of actual work she didn’t see the harm in a little prep work. Still, she wasn’t about to tell Annie her plans. Just then she heard a phone ring, so she gave Annie a quick hug and ran back to her desk.

It turned out to be for the boss. She quickly transferred the call and turned back to her resume. Wasn’t bad, but it could definitely use some work, and a critical eye. Maybe Bobbie could help, although she wasn’t sure how. Bobbie wasn’t dumb, but she never got a job based on her resume. Ray barely worked as it was, and well, she didn’t know that many people outside of her work and she wasn’t about to show it to any of them. She pulled out her ancient cell to take a look at her contacts when a text popped up from Bobbie. Having dinner 2nite w Ray. Have seen presents. So CUTE!!!! She could almost hear the squeal. At least she had something to look forward to tonight. It was going to be a long afternoon.

Diana's Dream

Okay, back to this story. But for some reason I have job searches on the brain...

“Diana…” A voice whispered to her, as if from a dream. She murmured a response. “Diana, did you get that memo I sent?”

Diana jerked up from her desk. “Memo..?” The haze was slowly lifting. “Oh yeah… I’ll get right on that.”

Her boss looked at her quizzically. “The memo was about Frank’s birthday. We’re throwing a party in the conference room. I just you’d want to know. Anything wrong?” Dang, she was still half-asleep and hungover. Definitely not going out on a work night again. She shook her head.

“I’m fine. Just a late night.” She tried to keep her voice neutral and professional, but her boss chuckled anyway, and strode off to another part of the office. At least he was understanding. It was one thing to have a job that offered no challenges or no interest whatsoever, but to have an awful boss on top of that would have been unbearable. Even still… Diana glanced at her computer screen. Five new job postings. Some of them were exactly like her current administrative gig and she was looking for more than just a change of scenery.

There was one or two however that could be interesting. One was a manager position for a non-profit, not something she had a lot of experience in but worth a shot, and the other was as an executive assistant for the CEO of GG&C; a company that had something to do with international trade. Her perusal of the company’s website was cut short by the sounds of a lot of people singing “Happy Birthday” nearby. It was loud and off key, as usual, with the one woman who fancied herself a singer trying in vain to reach the high note. But it reminded Diana that while she was here at least, she should try to play nice.

The Little Vampire.

I had so much fun writing The Little Zombie, I thought I'd write another little monster story.

The Little Vampire

Once upon a time there was a little vampire. Her name was Countess Giselle van der Hausendorf. Everyone called her Jessie. Jessie was 7 years old and had been that way for ten years. She was a pretty vampire, with blond curly hair and beautiful scarlet eyes. She lived with her mommy in a castle on the top of a hill. Jessie was very smart; she had read all the books in the castle, she could speak five languages (French, German, English, Spanish, and Mandarin Chinese) and she could play piano. Every few nights, she and her mommy would turn into bats and find someone to drink from.

There was a village at the bottom of the hill and a lot of people lived there, including many children Jessie’s age. She was very lonely however, because everyone in the village was scared of Jessie and her mommy, and wouldn’t let their children play after dark.

This made Jessie very sad. Oh, when she was first a vampire, it was very exciting. She stayed up all night, she never had to go to school, she could turn into a bat and fly, and she could stay seven-years-old forever. But after awhile it became terribly lonesome, and she wanted a friend. Her mommy didn’t understand, because her mommy was a grown-up vampire and could stare at people until they became her friends, at least until her mommy drank them. But Jessie couldn’t do that, and besides, she wanted a friend who would last longer than a night.

One morning, while Jessie was snug in her coffin, she began to dream of other vampires. Some were old; even older than her mother, and some were young like the babysitter Jessie used to have when she was alive. But in her dream she saw one vampire who was small like her, who could stay up all night like her, and could turn into a bat and fly like her. The other little vampire waved at Jessie. It was a little girl vampire! She had black hair and black eyes. Jessie walked towards the other little vampire, and in her dreams they played all day.

When she woke up that night, she told her mommy about her dream, and that she wanted to meet the other little vampire. Her mommy just laughed. “How can you meet a dream? She wasn’t real. Come, let us go flying.”

But Jessie was sure the other little vampire was real, so she began to formulate a plan. Being the smart vampire girl that she was, it didn’t take her long. And every day, she dreamed that she played with the other vampire.

One night, Jessie’s mommy went out on her own to find a friend. Jessie knew that this was her chance. She turned into a bat and flew as far she could away from the castle, and away from the little village where she had lived. She flew for miles and miles, further than she had ever gone before. She flew until she could grew very tired and when she thought she could fly no more, she came to a village. The village had a graveyard nearby, so Jessie went there and looked for an empty coffin to sleep in. She found one in the crypts. There were lots of dead bodies around, but Jessie wasn’t scared, so she slept the day away there.

The other little vampire came to her in her dreams, and together they played and flew the world. During the dream she saw the village that she was sleeping in. She and her friend flew from that village to a town that Jessie did not recognize. The other vampire pointed, and Jessie saw a castle that looked a lot like her own.

When Jessie woke up that night, she realized that she knew the way to the other vampire. What she didn’t know was how long it would take her. Oh, if only it was close by! But Jessie turned into a bat again and flew off in the direction of her dream.

It was much, much longer than she anticipated. At the end of the next night, Jessie was in the middle of the woods, and she had to dig a large hole so she could sleep. She again dreamed of the little vampire, only this time they went to Jessie’s home. There was her mother, frantically moving around the castle. It was clear that she thought something bad happened to Jessie. Jessie went towards her mother and gave her a hug, but found she went right through. She tried to talk but she couldn’t make a sound. So instead Jessie thought. She thought long and hard about how much she loved her mother and that everything was okay. Once she did that, Jessie’s mommy stopped completely. She gave a little sigh and Jessie knew that she had gotten the message.

Jessie travelled for many nights, always being careful not to get caught in the dawn, and drinking from a few animals so she wouldn’t starve. Then one evening, she came to a place she recognized. It was the town her friend had shown her! And just a little ahead was the castle. She went to the castle and knocked on the door.

A very old vampire answered the door. “Who are you? And what do you want?” He sounded very grumpy, and he made Jessie very scared.

“Please sir…” She said in a small voice. “Please. My name is Countess Giselle van der Hausendorf. I’m looking for a friend of mine. Does…” She trailed off. She didn’t even know her friend’s name! But she continued anyway. “Does a little girl vampire with black hair and black eyes live here?”

All of a sudden, a voice piped up from behind the old vampire. “Grandpa! She’s the one I told you about! Let her in!” The old one grumbled and opened the door wider. Jessie stepped inside and there she was! The friend from her dreams! Her friend ran to her and gave her a great hug.

“I’ve been waiting for you for so long! I’m Baroness Adelaide von Fleidermach, but everyone calls me Addy.”

“My name’s Jessie.” The two girls hugged again, and spent the remainder of the night flying as bats and getting to know each other.

“It’s just me, my Grandpa, and my daddy. I’ve wanted a friend for a long time.” Said Addy.

“Me too! It’s just me and my mommy at home.”

“Why don’t you and your mommy stay with us? Our town is ever so much bigger than your village, and that way we can play together all the time! We’ll be like sister!” Addy was very excited. Jessie thought this was a very good idea as well, and the two of them ran to go find Addy’s dad. He agreed that it was a good idea and he would personally go get Jessie’s mommy since he was very fast. It would have to wait until the next morning because it was almost dawn.

Jessie was so excited she could hardly sleep. She went to her old castle in her dreams and found her mommy crying. She knew her daughter was alive – well, undead anyway – but she was lonely without her little girl. Jessie thought as much joy as she could, and hoped her mother would feel it through her loneliness.

The next night, Jessie and Addy took turns playing the piano – both were very good after many years of practice. The night wasn’t half over when Addy’s dad returned with Jessie’s mom. Jessie ran to her mother and kissed her all over.

“I’m sorry I ran off.” said Jessie. “I’ll never do it again.”

“I’m sorry too. I should have believed you about your friend.”

Jessie and her mom very much liked the new castle and the town nearby, and Addy and her Grandpa and daddy enjoyed having more vampires like themselves. In fact, Addy’s dad liked Jessie’s mom so much that he asked her to marry him, and Jessie and Addy became sisters for real. They all lived happily ever after.

Summerstock - The beginnings.

I wanted to sort of introduce my character - or at least get her started on the journey to the weird ass theatre company. However it's Sunday, and I need a day off, so this is really all I feel like writing.

I stared at the computer screen. Twenty jobs and about three-quarters of them were non-paying fringe gigs, and most of the rest weren’t doing living wages. Considering that I got into the production side because I wanted to get paid, this development was disheartening. I might as well get the practice interviewing anyway, so I sent off my resumes to the ones that at least paid something. And then I started looking at the non-theatre gigs. Not that I was actually good for anything else – though maybe I could get some sort of filing job.

I was just about to get onto Monster.com when my e-mail dinged. I wasn’t really expecting anything - mostly spam, so I was surprised when it turned out to be a reply for a production assistant position. That was fast. I looked at the posting. It was actually one of the better ones! It didn’t pay particularly well, but it was summer stock, and room and board were included.

They asked if we could meet at a Greenstem Park, on Monday at 11:00am. I looked at my schedule. Yep, I could do that. It was a little bit of an odd place to meet but at least it wasn’t a bar. I sent a reply. Maybe I wouldn’t have to look for another job after all.

Summerstock

“Mrorah. Rheggrah REH rehgarahm… FRAbrmerah sdfwruaWHURG!” The director was shaking so hard his jaw just about fell off. As one, the cast turned towards the assistant director.

“You all suck. Again from the top, and it’s ONE two three, not one TWO three. Now.” The assistant deadpanned. He never showed any emotion. Most of us wondered if was a robot, or maybe an alien. He only claimed he was a medium and could speak to the dead, which is how he got the job in the first place. Our director mumbled something and slumped back into his chair.

The nymphs all giggled nervously as they got into line. They were frightened by the director, but they needn’t be. He only ate brains and they clearly didn’t have any. Besides, the director didn’t eat anybody that he worked with – it was too hard to replace them.

Marta, the stage manager, passed a note to me. Can u go 2 prop shop? Need swords for nxt scene. I looked up and saw Marta staring at me. I sighed, and nodded. I didn’t particularly like going to the prop shop – it was in the basement and run by the goblins.

I made my way down to the basement. It actually wasn’t the lowest floor, but it was the last place the elevator went to. The floor below that was only accessible by trap door, and you had to be special to go down there. The first basement was surprisingly well lit – but then again goblins were very careful with their work. I got to the door of the prop shop and was stopped by one of them. He came up to about my belly button. I still wouldn’t want to take him on in a fight. He had sharp teeth. And his smell was quite enough to keep me far away. It was as if a fish mated with a skunk and produced an egg – and all three had been dead for weeks.

“What do you want?” He growled. The goblins didn’t like me. They didn’t really like anybody who they gave their handiwork to. They were always afraid of it getting used. I honestly don’t know why they decided to work in theatre.

“We’re doing the sword fight next. We need them now.”

“Real or practice?”

“Practice is fine, as long as the weight and size are the same.”

“You know we haven’t started on them yet.”

“I’m know – that’s why I’m asking for practice.” The goblin grumbled back into the shop and I sat down to wait. I heard a loud bark, some groans from the other goblins, and then a whole lot of banging. About two minutes later the goblin came back carrying two swords.

“Here. Best I could do on such short notice. Don’t bang them up.” Clearly the goblin didn’t know actors. The swords were gorgeous. Shiny metal, dulled edges (thank god), and beautifully made handles. Oh they lacked the ornamentation that the real swords were going to have, but I didn’t have the ten minutes it would take them to do it. Grumpy little buggers, but they did nice work.

Marta put a finger to her lips as I cracked open the door to the rehearsal studio. The nymphs were all crouched in a corner, our leading man had turned into a wolf and was trying to attack the leading lady’s snakes, and the assistant director was helping the director sew his jaw back on. It was going to be a long rehearsal.