Finals Time

It’s finals week and I am writing a giant paper on children’s information seeking behavior. I’m also writing an 100 page screenplay with James Fox as part of Script Frenzy. I don’t know why NaNoWriMo always decides that the best months to interfere in my life are the same months that bring finals. Not that they’re forcing me to write anything but, like the bad ass time traveling super hero I’m writing about, I can never turn down a CHALLENGE. Since I don’t really have that much time to give you all the exciting details, I’ve decided to do this soap opera recap montage style:

Last Week on: Patricia’s Life
INT. MANNING HALL – SEMINAR ROOM – FRIDAY MORNING
The seminar class wanders one-by-one into the room, yawning because it’s so early. Since they’re the only class in the entire School of Information and Library Science that meets on Friday, the halls are eerily quiet and echo ominously.

PATRICIA
Why are you wearing shorts when it’s cold outside all of a sudden?

PROFESSOR
You’ve got to commit to shorts at some point in the year and never look back
(pause)
This is exactly how they dress at the Australian stock exchange. It’s business casual.

INT. PATRICIA’S APARTMENT – KITCHEN TABLE – FRIDAY
PATRICIA sits on the floor working on her research at the giant coffee table she uses as a regular kitchen table.

INT. PATRICIA’S APARTMENT – KITCHEN TABLE – SATURDAY
PATRICIA sits on the floor working on her research at the giant coffee table she uses as a regular kitchen table.

INT. PATRICIA’S APARTMENT – KITCHEN TABLE – SUNDAY
PATRICIA sits on the floor working on her research at the giant coffee table. She pauses briefly to write a hurried three more pages of Script Frenzy script. It involves space dinosaurs for some reason.

INT. PATRICIA’S APARTMENT – KITCHEN TABLE – MONDAY EVENING
PATRICIA gets up to start making meatloaf cupcakes for dinner when she hears something at the front door.

PATRICIA (v. o.)
Hmmm… it’s still light outside so that can’t be Steven yet. INTRUDER!!!

Patricia looks around for a weapon to defend herself. Suddenly, STEVEN walks into the room.

STEVEN
Hey girl hey!

PATRICIA
(sets down chair) Oh.

INT. MANNING HALL – CLASSROOM – TUESDAY MORNING
For some reason, UNC still does paper course evaluations that are on a scantron. PATRICIA is annoyed that she doesn’t have a pencil and is forced to write her detailed explanation of how this class could be greatly improved by not requiring it with a tiny golf pencil that won’t even fit in her hand.

EXT. BUS STOP – TUESDAY AFTERNOON
PATRICIA is reading another book about children’s information seeking while waiting for the bus. Its cover has a strange picture of a child in a library looking AS CONFUSED AS IT IS POSSIBLE TO BE.

SKETCHY GUY
So whatchya reading?

PATRICIA
This stupid book about child information seeking behavior.

SKETCHY GUY
(confused and slightly repulsed–the appropriate reaction)
Why?

PATRICIA
I guess because I’m a librarian.

SKETCHY GUY
Huh. You’re kinda hot for a librarian.

PATRICIA
Ummm… What?

SKETCHY GUY
Like… you’re not old.

PATRICIA
And I’m not shushing you?

SKETCHY GUY
Yeah!

PATRICIA sighs.

Stay tuned next week for:
INT. SPACESHIP – THE VASTNESS OF SPACE

PATRICIA
Your plan to steal all of the world’s gemeralds to power your evil space station is foolproof, Dr. Fiend.

Dr. Fiend cackles evilly and strokes his pet mongoose.

PATRICIA
But there’s ONE thing you DIDN’T COUNT ON!

Close up on PATRICIA’s narrowed eyes:

PATRICIA
I’M NO FOOL!

EXT. A BEAUTIFUL MOUNTAIN MEADOW – DAY

THAT GUY WHO LOOKED LIKE SNAPE WHO WORKED AT BLOCKBUSTER
You see, I had to leave my job at blockbuster, even though I loved answering your inane questions about which movies would be best for a “Burned as a Witch” drinking game.

PATRICIA
But… but WHY?

SNAPE GUY
DUMBLEDORE NEEDS ME

EXT. ATOP THE WILSON LIBRARY DOME – NIGHT

PATRICIA
Come on, Steven, just come down from here with me and no one will get hurt

STEVEN
NO! I’M A GARGOYLE!!!!!!

It’s gonna be great.

The Secret Life of Planets: Redux

Over spring break I essentially went on a whirlwind author tour of Seminole’s schools. I visited the classes at the Seminole Middle School who read The Knight, the Wizard, and the Lady Pig and then went across the street to Seminole High School, where the musical theater class was doing dress rehearsals of my one act, “The Secret Life of Planets”. It’s been slightly tweaked from my original version, written for the Wiess Freshman One Acts, to accommodate more speaking parts, more singing, and an costumes made of things besides what you can steal from the Servery. Observe:

Another key difference: I was not eating pie while watching it

Another key difference: I was not eating pie while watching it

Also, no one turned up drunk. But I am totally digging the costumes: (image heavy)
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How to Motivate Children and Other Stories

Me: Okay, so… two of you did your writing homework.
Children: (general murmurs of unapologetic excuses)
Me: Whatever. So for next week I want you to invent a planet and tell me about it. You could–
Boy 1: Ooh! Ooh! Oooooooh!
Me: Ummm… yes?
Boy 1: I have clay left over at home can I make a model of it?????
Me: Sure, I guess.
Girl 1: OOOH! I will stop and get clay on the way home!!!
Boy 2: CAN I DRESS UP LIKE AN ALIEN FROM MY PLANET??
Me: Okay?
Girl 1: I’ll dress up AS MY PLANET!!!!
Me: Whatever, as long as you also write.

Next week I will get confused parents escorting in aliens holding soccer balls covered in molding clay asking me why their homework was to dress like aliens and how that will help them pass the EOG. I just know it.

Girl 1: … and then I’ll have to sit with the adults at dinner and it will be SOOOOO boring.
Me: Yeah. Adults can be way boring.
Girl 1: I mean, YOU don’t count as an adult.
Me: Really?
Girl 1: Yeah, you have to be married first.
Me: Okay. I’ll remember that.
Girl 1: AND you have the mind of a kid!
Me: ….
Girl 1: It’s a good thing!!!
Me: Okay. Thanks.

H-Town: The Debriefing

I’m glad that Houston is just like I remember: nearly unbearable. But in a way I’ve grown to love. I love the ridiculous traffic, the sweltering heat, the overzealous mosquito population, the two stars. I also love the now-completed building that was outside my window all of last year. Its roof now looks like a ship’s prow that has accidentally careened into the med center. And, yeah, I walked by the new gym and it consumed my soul with jealousy. Other than that, though, I managed to pretty well avoid getting hit by the nostalgia truck. Because my shower doesn’t scream.

Probably the most surprising part of the weekend came on Saturday when I was expecting to collect my pieroyalties, the amount of which increases in increments of one pie yearly. I was promised three, but since both Anna (director) and Jacob (producer) assumed responsibility for this, I ended up with six. Jacob gave his long suffering Jacob sigh, said they would tip me one more, and keep two for the cast party. I assumed this was just his way of covering up a failed attempt at winning my affections. Because nothing says “Let’s make out after this play” like extra pie. It’s maybe a universal signal.

Anna also felt the need to tip me, specifically for this part of the play:
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