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Thursday, June 30, 2005

Haha, wow. I broke the ice with my photography professor in a HUGE way with my nude self portraits. He was all over them and raving. Everyone else in the class was giving me looks - Central Pennsylvanian "I have no idea how to react to the 'different' girl" looks. A quote from a particularly annoying and brainless blonde: "You must have a lotta guts to bring in those photos. Maybe it's because you're from another country, but here in America, that's a really big deal."

I had to focus to keep my eyes from rolling. "Big deal" is right, but with a different inflection. OK, yeah, I was a little twitchy when I first developed my contact sheet and let a class full of strangers pore over pictures of my boobies for the first time, but isn't nude portraiture the ultimate student cliche? What the fuck is wrong with these people? Oh, wait. They're fresh out of American high schools. Of course.

So that's straight A's for B&W 101! I'm now considering taking more photography classes when I get to West Chester. I worked pretty hard in this course, but it never felt like work.

The funniest thing about it is that I'm pretty sure I scored well because of my lack of experience and training. I have no pre-conceptions or real confidence in my visual art skills, so I attached myself to the teacher and followed his instruction to the letter. Some of the other students in my class who didn't do as well were graphic design or photography majors with aspirations of working in fashion or for National Geographic, but they seemed to think they could get through the course without taking the professor's advice or actually learning anything. I don't know if my inexperience makes me a better artist, but I think it makes me a better first-year art student.

Wednesday, June 29, 2005

Really Simple Syndication, my arse. Well, I guess it's not exactly difficult. The real problem is figuring out a way to syndicate this blog on my MySpace profile. I'm not sure it's possible, since it seems MySpace restrictions prevent JavaScript, iframes, or PHP from showing up. Phooey.

Wow, how totally bizarre. Apparently if I override Blogger's permissions and put JavaScript in a post, the "Edit Posts" page is completely screwed up - no previews, and the "Edit" buttons are as wide as the page. Not that any of you can see that, but it's a pain in the arse, so I'll keep the JavaScript off this page anyhow. Damn Blogger.

Well, if you have any desire to display a syndication of this site (yeah, right), some variation of this code, which I created using BigBold's RSS Digest:
<iframe width="400px" height="170px" src=""></iframe>
..will create this:

If you can make use of bloody JavaScript, use this for a much cleaner look:
<script language="JavaScript" src="">

Wix, wonderful man that he is, also created an RSS feed for LiveJournal, if you're interested. Huzzah for Wix!

Monday, June 27, 2005

My god. I arrived at my half-hour singing lesson this afternoon at 5:20pm (I was held up for twenty minutes at the traffic light on the corner of the Harvey Taylor Bridge and 17th Street). I didn't leave Angela's house until nine o'clock. We had a killer of a conversation about the state of education in America which morphed into a three-hour deep and meaningful about the sort of new age conspiracy bullshit which I love to explore and wonder about and Matt loves to pooh pooh. Yargh! My brain is pinging all over the place now. Here, read this. Deborah Harmes is up there with David Icke, only I'm two degrees of separation from her.

Thinking about the possibility of an avian flu epidemic in humans is my new horror genre. If I try to wrap my mind around it, I'm terrified. But I'm drawn irresistibly to the fear.

But more frightening to me than this in the short term is the state of education here in the US. One of the crew members on No Sanctuary just finished a student teaching stint at a local high school. He was teaching grade eleven English, and nobody in the class knew how to take notes. They had never, in fact, taken notes before. They didn't even bring note-taking paper to class. Their complacent teachers simply gave them worksheets with blanks to fill in, such as "Nathaniel Hawthorne was born in _____ in _____________ and died in ____." In grade eleven.

I've seen first hand (and often bitched on this blog about) the poor standard of education in US high schools. Angela has some terrible stories from her classes - college students who couldn't tell you offhand the name of Germany's leader during WWII, for instance. In my entire English class last semester, only one person besides me had ever read Dickens. Dickens! Last fall, we had to spend a ridiculous amount of time in class learning how to use commas and apostrophes. After taking one crash-course semester of US History and the National Political System, I seem to know more about the running of this country than most young Americans who have lived here all their lives. None of them seem to know anything about world history or current events either. Hardly anyone I meet in any of my classes can consistently write a correct sentence, punctuate, or spell, and they rarely think expressing themselves clearly is particularly important. Barely any of them have the ability to enter into a critical verbal discussion of any subject. They don't understand the merit or process of providing decent sources to back up an assertion. And they don't care. They think that a college degree is a ticket to a better job which they can earn just by showing up, and this seems to be an attitude engendered many, many years before they arrived at college.

It occurs to me that this has been going on for some time, but that it wasn't always this way. And it makes me think that this trend is quite deliberate on the part of conservative government. What are the consequences of educating the populace? The Civil Rights movement. Feminism. Tiananmen Square. A whole lotta liberals and progressives. What are the consequences of giving the population a cursory education that discourages independent or critical thought? Easily controlled sheep.

I don't know how teachers in this country do it. I would have a nervous breakdown in a month.

It was a great first day of shooting for No Sanctuary, anyway. Very laid back. I'm looking forward to tomorrow.

Picture taken by Tony on Friday night at Mary's ballet recital.

Sunday, June 26, 2005

Around and around in my head:
Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag
And smile, smile, smile!
While you've a lucifer to light your fag,
Smile, boys, that's the style!
What's the use of worrying?
It never was worthwhile! So!
Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag
And smile, smile, smile!

I have a roll of film I like! Provided my apartment doesn't burn down or something, I might just be able to lick this course.
Häagen-Dazs Strawberry Shortcake ice-cream is the true breakfast of champions.

E-mails like this sort of stun me:
-------- Original Message --------
Subject: fiona apple
Date: Sun, 19 Jun 2005 13:25:08 -0700
From: nancy b

i am going to try to teach myself to play piano. can you see if you can get some fiona apple piano tabs? thank you.

So ... she went to Know the Score, a website containing sheet music transcribed from Nine Inch Nails tracks, and decides the webmaster would be the perfect person to ask for "fiona apple piano tabs"? I don't know, something about it rubbed me the wrong way. Maybe it's the lack of common sense or Google skills, or even an introduction or a 'please.'

The camera situation is sorted out for now, thanks to a tip from Zach (my Bizarro Jason). Phillip, beau of Amber (my Bizarro Lucy, although Phillip is not Bizarro Fayssal), has a 35mm manual camera which I can borrow to take a roll of film for my final. Words cannot express how overjoyed I am that someone nearby has a working camera and is kind enough to let me use it - on Friday afternoon I drove down to Shrewsbury to take a look at Matt's parents' old Nikon, only to find that it too has a shutter problem which is even further beyond my comprehension to fix. I did get a couple of other offers (thank you, Wendy and Patrick!), but Phillip lives much closer than either Lancaster or Delaware ;)

Matt and I opened his parents' Nikon (as far as we could without a friction screwdriver) and tinkered around with it. Dear god. Cameras are much less comprehensible and far more engineered than even compact computers like laptops and PDAs. I mean, shit, I've actually been able to take apart my laptop and my PDA, understand the components, and fix or replace them. Cameras are something else entirely. It almost makes me want to seek out ways of becoming a camera technician to dispel the mystery. I could buy broken cameras, repair them, shift them on eBay, and make a fortune. You know, in my spare time.

I am planning on buying a 'vintage' digital SLR to replace my limping-shuttered Fuji once this course is over and I start earning a salary again. I can get an old 3.1 megapixel SLR for around $250 on eBay. 3.1 megapixels doesn't sound like much compared with the 8-megapixel digital SLRs that are available now, but the difference is only three years and over $2000, which is a good enough deal for me.

Speaking of family, I'd like to take a moment here to announce the horror and disappointment I feel regarding my brother-in-law, José, who married Matt's sister Erin about a month after Matt and I tied the knot. Just ... wow. I'll spare you the disgusting details, but I don't understand how anyone can show such absolute contempt for their responsibilities as a father, a husband, and a human being, and put such good people through so much pain and shit. It makes me really appreciate what Matt and I have, but frankly, I can do that without having examples like him paraded before me. The whole thing makes me want to kidnap Erin and Antonio and set them up in Australia so they can get away from everything. And whither Kayla? Argh, what a fucking mess.

Friday, June 24, 2005

Here's a portion and an example of the ruined shots I took yesterday. (No, I'm not going to post the graphic ones. You can't be too careful.) Also, new hair.

Fuckin' shutter.

The air in my bathroom is hella dusty.

The Good: I managed to successfully develop two rolls of film in my own bathtub.

The Bad: I did this instead of practicing the cello, which sucks because I have a lesson tomorrow morning.

The Ugly: The (nudie) roll of film I took with my new cable release is fucked. For years, I have had a recurring problem with a sticking shutter blade in my camera. It's intermittent, so difficult to fix, and I don't really have the money to get the camera serviced properly. It happened with the first roll I took for this course, and apparently it happens almost without fail when I use a cable release. Every shot has a great big black (white) stripe across it.

Damnit. Well, at least I found this out now, and not next week in class, which would have been a disaster. I'll just have to shoot and develop another roll tomorrow and see what happens. After my cello lesson. Gah.

Thursday, June 23, 2005

I handed in a print today*, so now all I need are two related prints for my final project. Unfortunately, I don't like anything I've already shot. Here's my plan of action:
  1. Debate with myself a while about whether I should remove my pubic hair or not

  2. Take photographs of myself in the nuddy, using plenty of ridiculous feminist symbolism

  3. Wonder whether I'll ever regret these photos

  4. If I start to freak out about the time factor, buy D-76 and fixer and develop the damn film myself in my own home. It can't be that hard, right?

Sheesh, not much of a plan of action, is it? More like a plan of indecision.

*It was a picture of Matt in the shower! No, I didn't snap any naughty bits. I'm sure I'll regret that choice one day when we have our (first) enormous fight and I'm looking for some way to wreak hysterical revenge via the Internet.
This has been stuck in my head for a couple of days, for no particular reason:

One more step along the world I go,
One more step along the world I go,
From the old things to the new,
Keep me traveling along with you.
And it's from the old I travel to the new,
Keep me traveling along with you.

The word of the day is 'worried.' I'm worried about my photography class. I need to hand in three more prints, which wouldn't be a problem if I weren't missing two days of class next week to film No Sanctuary; I don't think I have enough film shot, and it always takes me at least one class to make a good print. I'm worried because I have to tell my professor that today, and I'm not sure how he'll react. I'm worried at my desire to take nude shots of myself. I'm worried that I'll forget to tell Angela I have to miss my singing lesson on Monday. I'm worried about No Sanctuary because I don't know my lines and my balisong skills aren't up to scratch. I'm worried about Mum and Dad. I'm worried about Jason. I'm worried that I haven't practiced the cello enough this week. I'm worried about the worry-induced ulcer on my bottom lip. I'm worried about the baggage retrieval system they've got at Heathrow.

But hey, I have new hair! Pictures when I'm not so worried about Photography 101.

  • From this rather fascinating article: One stunning example is a gene variant that makes 1 per cent of Caucasians (and an estimated 10 per cent of Ashkenazi Jews) immune to HIV infection. It blocks receptors on the surface of cells where the AIDS virus would otherwise enter. Scientists suspect the trait was passed down from Europeans who survived medieval smallpox plagues thanks to the same mutation. Ten percent!? Wow. Maybe the Jews really are God's chosen people.

  • Gaping Maw censored.

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Changed my mind! I'm submitting this self portrait for my photography assignment instead.

My photography professor is very helpful. He tells me what I should do to get an A, I do it, and he gives me an A. I wish this course were longer, though. I feel like I'm only cranking out prints for assignments and don't have much opportunity to just play around. That's the drawback of summer classes, I guess.

This afternoon I have a hair appointment for No Sanctuary, which starts shooting next week. Huzzah! I'm awfully excited at the prospect of a haircut. As you can probably tell from the picture below, I need one badly.

I don't know much about Interpol, and the song didn't really grab me, but I think it's neat that White is doing video. I saw Carlos D of Interpol at the second NIN show in NYC. If you believe the blogosphere, he has herpes.

Tuesday, June 21, 2005


Sick and tired of waiting for Blogger to sort out my NavBar troubles, and with about an hour to spare this morning, I decided to build myself a better, stronger, more wonderful NavBar all by myself.

Behold! See the spiffy NavBar at the top of this page! For those of you who don't know, I never implemented the NavBar previously because it kept searching "www.mormolyke.comblog/index.html" [sic]. I couldn't for the life of me figure out how to get it to insert a slash between the com and the blog, and besides, far more useful blog search results can be found when searching the entire website rather than just the blog index or even the blog folder (oddly). To get it to work, I had to take the source code for the NavBar, jimmy with the URL inside the code, and insert it directly into my Blogger template rather than just selecting the NavBar option in Blogger. It works! No need for the Google Free Search which I set up this morning.

But better than that, even, I decided to take it one step further and dicked around with it a little more. I took some of the code from the customized Google Free Search and whacked it into the NavBar code, and now the Google search page generated by my NavBar fits my color scheme! Go on, try it! Ahahahaha, isn't it wonderful? Calooh! Callay!

I also made the time on each blog entry link to the post's permanent link. That makes much more sense.

Damn, when I redesign this site, remembering to change all the non-CSS controlled parameters, like the Google customized search and the NavBar, is going to be a pain in the arse.
For some reason, I woke up a few minutes ago with my eyes open and tears streaming out of them. I wasn't sobbing or emotional, and I wasn't having a dream that I remember. The shock of saltwater running across my face made me aware, though it felt like my eyes had been open in the dark for a while.

Weird. Is it because I was chopping jalapeno peppers last night?

Monday, June 20, 2005

It suddenly occurred to me that I haven't updated my blog for nearly a week, which must surely be a record for the last few months.

Henry V wrapped up on Saturday night. As much as I enjoyed being a part of it, I am so glad it's over. When I was studying Henry V in my Shakespeare class last semester, Angela insisted it was far too long, and though I contradicted her at the time, I've come to see things her way. "What a long night is this," says the Dauphin even before intermission, and every night I agreed with him.

I've started reading Henry IV, as this fall Gamut is performing both parts as a single play -- heavily cut, of course, since the entirity would take about seven hours. I wonder how similar it's going to be to this, cut-wise. Not that I've seen that production, but I'm trying to get my hands on it. Some incredibly exciting cross-gender casting may be taking place - almost as exciting as the fact I'll be joining Gamut as a full time core company member in two weeks. Sure, I'll be doing a lot of laundry and kitchen cleaning, but frankly, right now I'd rather handle a scrubbing brush in a theater between acting and teaching than rake in the dough in a corporate environment or constantly try to juggle a boring fulltime dayjob schedule with my performance commitments.

Yesterday after strike, Matt and I saw Batman Begins, which blows every comic book adaptation I've ever seen right out of the water. The cast was incredible. I was disappointed when I heard that Aronofsky was no longer directing, but Nolan did a brilliant job, and filled most of the main roles with extraordinary British actors.

I could swear there is a sneaky, cute little American Psycho reference near the end. There's a shot of Bruce Wayne in a car talking to Earle on the phone. Christian Bale's performance is suddenly EERILY reminiscent of Patrick Bateman, and maybe it's just me, but ... I have a weird feeling that he's wearing that the same Armani suit that Bateman wears. The one with the French collar and cuffs and discreet pinstripes. Bateman ... Batman ...

Maybe I'm nuts. But if it's a reference, that's fucking awesome.

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Went to the doctor. I'm now on Bactrim, which is just grand, because the sun is currently blasting the Pennsylvanian landscape with scorching, blinding deathrays. If I so much as walk past an undraped window, I'll turn red as a lobster (as I learned last year during Midsummer bump-in when I was on Bactrim for the exact same reason). And yes, the doctor who fixed me up with it says there may well be some slight, revolting, and unlucky problem with my urethra, but that there's nothing I can really do about it aside from chaining myself to bottles of cranberry juice for the rest of my life.


Monday, June 13, 2005

I got an A for my photograms!

Saturday, June 11, 2005

I posted this rant on PoE-news today in response to the news of the Republican pigfuckers' PBS budget cuts. I feel better for it. There is so much wrong with public broadcasting in this country. I wonder how WiTF is going to fare.

It's humid, sticky, and disgusting. My Australian sensibilities have been tempered by Pennsylvanian winters, and now I'm suffering with everyone else. We bought two fans today, but I don't think they're doing much.

Thursday, June 09, 2005

I was wrong. We did the play, although for the first twenty minutes we were in the rain. I am tired and sluggish.



Hatred for my body. Hatred.
Terrific thunderstorm now taking place!


It woke me from an afternoon nap, and has only become louder! Continuous rolls of thunder with extreme cracks every 10 seconds or so - doomsday cracks that make you scream and want to cower under your bed, whimpering at the fury of the heavens. Oh, it feels good to be scared.

I'm guessing Henry is going to be rained out again tonight.
The most awesome thing about having an English music teacher:

"So there is a semitone between each of the fingers on the cello, right?"
"Semitone! Oh, it's so good to hear that word! I'm so used to hearing my students say 'half-tone' or 'half-step'!"
"Oh! Haha! I get laughed at for saying 'crochet' in this country."
"Well you can say that around here as much as you like."

She physically attended Trinity College of London, which is weird considering I have an ATCL in Speech and Drama.

I have a horrible familiar tendency to tense my shoulders and neck even when I'm playing the cello. Gah. For the next two or three months, I imagine I'll be struggling with that; I hope I overcome it. I'm sure it's possible. When I was a kid, I taught myself not to flare my nostrils while playing the violin by paying attention to my face. I just need to apply the same logic and attention to my upper torso.

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

I spoke to Gamut! I can go to London between August 26 and September 1 to see my dad! Also, my mum and Trevor. But, with the cancer and all, Dad is the priority.

Also, I am taking my first cello lesson tomorrow with Vicki Twigg. She is from England, but she now lives in Dillsburg, which, as we all know thanks to Darrin, is plagued with far fewer problems than Harrisburg. I'm guessing this is her husband.

Sunday, June 05, 2005

Hooray! The play is open. Lovely performance last night, though I didn't feel that I as Montjoy connected to Henry much. I guess Henry has enough on his plate, what with the war and everything.

I forgot to mention that last Wednesday I performed Juliet at a middle school in Lewisberg with Theater of the Seventh Sister's Face to Face program. It was probably the best performance I've done. I hit all the right notes and cried on cue. Afterwards, we four actors had a protracted extremely liberal conversation. *sigh* I miss them. We only see each other every few months.

My goddamn kung fu teacher called my house on Friday asking where I was. I forgot to call them and let them know I was quitting. Dammit. Now I'm terrified. I feel guilty enough as it is.

I probably shouldn't even worry about going to the UK. Next week, Mum and Dad are travelling to Brisbane and staying with my biological father and his family. They will all undoubtedly kill each other. I'd best start making wakeless funeral arrangements. I hope my (half) brother Mihali gets out alive.

Friday, June 03, 2005

Henry V was rained out tonight. A night off! O God, thy arm was here. I'm heading out to an opening night party which is still taking place despite the fact we are not opening.

Because of the chaos of "opening," I won't be talking to the theater about the possibility of the UK until Sunday.
When I am frightened, I run straight to the internet.
=-= Mode #ETS +o Mormolyke by perchee
<Mormolyke> WHAT THE FUCK DO WE DO!?!?!
<HeywoodJablome> a bat?!
=-= HeywoodJablome is now known as anita
<anita> haha
<anita> Dude, you have a bat in your room.
<anita> Is it flying around?
<Mormolyke> OH MY GOD
<anita> um, wow, how... uh... can you open a window?
<Mormolyke> DO THEY BITE!?!?
<Mormolyke> Shit, I wish this was Australia. I know how to deal with flying foxes
<Mormolyke> But this thing is tiny ... and CARNIVOROUS
<anita> I don't think it's a carnivorous bat.
<anita> It's probably pretty harmless. Unless it flew from South America or something.
<anita> Well, maybe carnivorous, but you're too big to eat.
<Mormolyke> It is at the window! Every time we go to open it, it flies in our faces!!
<Mormolyke> OK, we got one window open
<Mormolyke> but it's showing no signs of going out. It's just sitting there.
<Mormolyke> Upside down.
<Mormolyke> Like a bat.
<Mormolyke> WHAT IF IT HAS RABIES!??!?!
<anita> One North American “little brown bat can devour as many as 1,200 mosquito sized insects in only an hour
<anita> Um, get rabies shots? Are there rabies shots? I'm so confused right now.
<perchee> is it still in the bedroom?
<perchee> :o
<nympholept> passes morm a cricket bat
<anita> NO! Don't hurt it, unless it tries biting.
<anita> er... towel? blanket? cover it up, and throw it out the window?
<nympholept> pee on it, they hate taht
<nympholept> that sounds sensible
<anita> Ugh, the day I decide to leave the apartment, and it's raining.
<anita> Maybe that's why the bat came in - to find a dry place.
=-= kleptonin has changed the topic to “Welcome to #ace-attorney | stats : | <Mormolyke> THERE IS A FUCKING BAT IN OUR BEDROOM .. IT KEEPS FLYING AT US .. OH MY GOD”
nympholept releases a bat at kleptonin
<perchee> its good to piss on bat but it depends what you ate/drank last nite
<perchee> i had a spicy sauce with.. lots of spicy things..
=-= nympholept; is now known as batolept
<perchee> pisses on bat with a spiced piss
<batolept> cups hands
<kleptonin> i just washed my hair with AUSSIE brand shampoo. it smells of barbies and dags. also, dunnies
<kleptonin> yay
<Mormolyke> I rescued it with a towel and put it outside
<Mormolyke> and sat next to it as it licked the wet grass
<Mormolyke> for about five minutes
<Mormolyke> And then it got up and flew away
<Mormolyke> It was kind of sweet
<kleptonin> did u tak pictur
<batolept> you should have kept it as a pet
<Mormolyke> Yes
<kleptonin> kleptopet
kleptonin soils the carpet
<kleptonin> oh, me!
<kleptonin> :rolleyes:
batolept puts kleptonin in a cage
<kleptonin> k
<Mormolyke> Bats are very clever
<Mormolyke> When they are threatened they fly right at the face
<kleptonin> see the kleptonin in the cage that you built
<Mormolyke> so you have to close your eyes
<Mormolyke> and then when you open your eyes, it is gone
<batolept> but there is blood on your face
<Mormolyke> That is why they are so clever.
<Mormolyke> When I got it outside, it was like a crippled mouse
<Mormolyke> I felt bad for it
<Mormolyke> and it was so thirsty

Thursday, June 02, 2005


FUCK. FUCKFUCKFUCK. I can't leave on July 14. Gamut can't give me time off then because we have a kids show and a Shakespeare camp in the second half of July.

There is a chance that I will be able to go at the end of August, though. I have to talk to them tomorrow.

Holy shit.

-------- Original Message --------
Subject: Avery Special Letter From Mum
Date: Thu, 02 Jun 2005 15:45:48 +1000
From: Cindy Shong

>>>Dear Melissa
VERY GOOD NEWS!!! The Doctors are very happy and
pleased with Dad's Blood test. The cancer appears to be under
control.{ His PSA count has dropped from when he left the hospital}
About an hour ago Dad has made an appointment for the 13th July
It means that from the 14th July we will be able to fly to London
Trevor does not have any confidence to travel and never travelled
long distance before so I have offered to go with the boys.Dad does
not mind because he will have two carers!!!!!
We can meet you in London.We can also book a hotel room for you.
Why don't you come with Matt!!. For him to get time off maybe he
can tell his boss his father-in-law is dying of cancer.Surely they
would understand!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Now that I have given you a date can you tell us what your plans
are as we need to book ASAP
love--- MUM @ Dad/Trevor

PS. Dads PSA count when he left hospital was 1600
Todays count was 1280.

Looks like Melissa is going to London for a bit. Gotta figure out how long with Gamut.

Gah, holy shit. So soon!??

Wednesday, June 01, 2005

Henry V and his silly English K-nnnnnnniggets.

Two days until opening night. It's spam o'clock.

Yes, Melissa Dunphy has yet another heady cultural experience for you to enjoy. And if you like her a little bit, or even if you don't, it's time to pack yourself a picnic and head up to Reservoir Park for some FREE Shakespeare in the Park. Yes, FREE! Cheaper even than this e-mail!


Last year in the park, it was A Midsummer Night's Dream, and this year, it's Henry V, a lovely play about a medieval war between the French and the English. Fighting! Political intrigue! Swords! Shields! Maces! Axes! (Unfortunately, I only get a boring quarterstaff, but you can't have everything.) And if you read between the lines, there's even a message or two about the nature of war and leadership. Oh, Shakespeare, you bleeding-heart liberal, you.

(If you don't happen to care for bleeding-heart liberal ideas, please note that rather a lot of French people are slaughtered with patriotic fervor during the play.)

For those of you scratching your heads, Henry V contains a bunch of famous speeches, including, but not limited to:
"O, for a muse of fire ..."
"Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more ..."
"This day is called the feast of Crispian ... we few, we happy few, we band of brothers ..."
So you won't be lost in unfamiliarity. Also, yours truly will be on stage for just about the entire show, bouncing in and out of costumes for Montjoy (a French Herald), Jamy (a Scottish captain), and Cambridge (an English traitor).

Here's the scoop:

I'll see you there, or I won't talk to you no more, you empty-headed animal food trough wiper.
My friend Carol is divesting herself of her memory-laden engagement ring. "This ring was given to me as a tangible symbol of love and marriage by my now duplicitous ex-husband. My cheating, lying, poor excuse for a man ex-husband. A ring that was supposed to symbolize so much yet fate had a different plan for it and me ... Well, in little under five years, he decided one of his philosophy students was a better choice as a better half. So, long story short I'm a 26-year old divorcee left with utter misery and a fantastic financial debt to match. WOOHOO! Wanna play Scrabble?"