Will ye go thither with me?

So, I'm a part of the Lacumba Players here at school. Which is just big, fancy college-talk for drama club. The most exciting part undeniably is being able to act on a real stage, inside a real auditorium, with real lights bearing down on us. Our current project is Everyman, a medieval morality play. It's... quite enlightening.

Here's Everyman in 5 mins (by me):

God: -looks down on Earth- "Oh hell no! I died for these bitches and here they are lying, cheating, stealing... Just spitting on my commandments! Uh huh. I don't think so. Death, bring your ass!"

Death: "Yes, your Lordship?"

God: "You go down and grab Everyman. We need to have a 'talk.' Got it?"

Death: "Certainly, my king! He'll never see me coming..."

-Death descends to Earth-

Death: "Where you think you going, Everyman?"

Everyman: "Excuse me? Who are you?"

Death: "You mean you don't know?"

Everyman: "UH.. no."

Death: "I'm DEATH! And God is pissed. Y'all need to have a chat."

Everyman: "Oh snap.... Heh heh, let's say I give you this $20 and you turn around. Let's just try this again in about twelve years. Hm?"

Death: "I don't think so. Let's go."

Everyman: "Whoah, whoah! Can I at least take some people with me?"

Death: "Psht. If you can find someone. Suuuure. Bring 'em all to God! You have one day."

-exit Death-

Everyman: "Damn. God. Death. Who to take? Who will come? Ah, yes, my family! A-yo, cuz! Wanna go to God with me?"

Kindred: "Nah. I don't see that happening... You on your own, buddy."

Everyman: "Damn. At least I still have my goods (worldly possessions)! Let me just gather them all up..."

Goods: "Yeah... No. I'm just property. I have deceived you, don't you see? You spent all this money and time on me. And now I am leaving you. See ya!"

Everyman: "Played."

Everyman: "What now?"

Good Deeds: "I'll go to God with you..."

Everyman: "Really? Sweet. Let's go!"

Good Deeds: "Not yet. I'm a little weak... You know you ain't done enough good deeds, homie. So, uh, yeah, take my sister. Maybe she can drop some Knowledge on ya."

Knowledge (Good Deeds' sister): "You need to go to Confession before you can holla at my sister. You ain't good enough yet to even be seen with her."

-Everyman and Knowledge go to Confession-

Knowledge: "Get on your knees and start praying."

Everyman: "Oh blessed Confession! Heal me so that I can holla at Good Deeds. She a dime, son!"

Confession: "Uh... Here. Take this. It should help."

Everyman: "A whip?"

Confession: "Yeah. You gon pay what you owe, Everyman!"

-commence beating himself-

Knowledge: "Now, you are ready."

Good Deeds: "I liiiiive! Let's go to God now."

-blah blah blah Discretion, Strength, Five Wits and Beauty crap out blah blah-

Everyman: "I die."

Doctor: "Damn, another dead body? Damn... Listen up, y'all! As you can see, you can't take anything with you but your Good Deeds. So, be ready. Because you never know who your real friends are until it's time to die."

END

So all the time we've been spending with this piece, I've had time to internalize the characters, decipher the lines, and generally understand what the Church was trying to teach the people of the Middle Ages. It's a good message, really. Because, honestly, who would go with you down Life's hardest roads? Sure, your family says they would. Your friends. Your lover. But would you go to God (or death) with those you claim to be close to?

One of the fellow actors in this play asked me if I would die for those I call friends now. Without missing a beat, I said yes. I began thinking of all that I have done for my friends and loved ones. The assignments, the sneaking-out, the lies, the road trips, the late night/ early morning phone calls... So much to others. And yet nothing to me. And all I've asked for in return is companionship.

Right now, I honestly wouldn't mind dying for a friend. Because I don't use the term lightly. If you are my friend, you've obviously proved to be something extraordinary. Someone who has proved to be dependable. Someone special. And I hope that, in return, you can say the same about me.

.:~o'Kaylyn'*o~:.

P.S. - I'm dying tomorrow. Any takers?

Tiger Tales

Last night was probably one of the single most greatest nights of my life! Well... maybe not. There was my birthday party. And Sweeney Todd ;) And the Houston trip. And-- Okay, so maybe not the best. But definitely top 10. For sure the best concert experience I've had in a loooong time. (Hopefully Oct 25th will be awesome too!)

Even though I don't attend LSU (What was I thinking?), I still got to enjoy some of the perks of being a Tiger. One of those privileges being... Sean Kingston and Gavin Degraw in concert! LIVE! It was... unlike anything I've experienced in my life before. The performers were about (I'm not lying) 10 feet from me. I could see the diamonds in Sean's chain, the sweat from Gavin's forehead, the tightness in his bassist jeans (mm mm). What made it even better was partying it up with my #1 BR buddy, Franco Diesel (haha).

Of course, I couldn't step foot on LSU's campus repping my blue and gold. Especially not during their Gold Fest (homecomming preparations). Big no-no. No worries! Just before the concert, I went to Tiger District and copped a $10 "Geaux Tigers" shirt. It's gold with big purple lettering. The shirt which, by the way, I'm totally wearing at school. Right now. I hate to say it, but I look damn good in purple and gold. (T.S. Cooley anyone?) Both my roommate and I "converted" in the car while Franco damn near mowed down about 3 people. I swear he was trying to kill us... Haha. (Truuuck!)

But of course it wouldn't be a true outing if their wasn't food involved. After showing my roomie Coop., we jetted to Hello Sushi. It was really nice inside and they branded everything with the logo from the paper around the chopsticks to the scantron menu. We may have to go back and get shirts... Hmmm.

All in all, I had a good experience on LSU's campus. Both my rommie and I were Jaguars camouflaged as Tigers. (Still in the cat family though!) I think if there were some way to continue classes here at SU but still vicariously live and party on LSU's campus, I would totally do it. Correspondence classes? I dunno. Hopefully, we can find some football tickets that won't cost me my firstborn son. Although, they would get the raw end of that deal. XP But I think an LSU football game would be... total college ecstasy. We'll see...

.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.

9460800 minutes... 9460800 moments so dear...

After all the excitement, all the waiting, all the hype... I'm finally 18. I didn't lose my virginity to crazy sex with my boyfriend (which is nonexistent); I didn't smoke my first cigarette (nor buy a pack even); I didn't visit any "adult" stores (but Harrison seeks to change that); I didn't get a tattoo (but I wouldn't do that even on my 21st). However, this is what I did do:

After an amazing party (seriously, I wish the night never ended), I decided I would enjoy the right-of-passage for all fun-loving newly-turned 18-year olds... clubbing! So I changed into a shamelessly revealing V-neck halter top and skirt and headed out. However, nothing went as planned. Or even that well for that matter. Here's what happened:

September 20th, 2008: My 18th birthday. Being a lifetime resident of Lake Charles, I naturally wanted to go to Cowboys. I thought the racist practices everyone warned me against had gotten better. I thought my older sister, cousin, my good friend and I would have no problem getting in. Boy, did I have a rude awakening!

After standing in line and being scrutinized by at least 6 security officers and the two girls behind the counter, I thought we were golden. I thought to myself, "Finally, I'm legal and I'm going to enjoy a club."

Well, I walked in, turned the corner, and TWO security guards grabbed my male friend by the arm and began lead him around the club. Never being inside before, I foolishly thought they were escorting us away from the walkway for obstructing traffic or something. When they neared the door, however, my older sister kindly asked one of the guards where they were taking my friend. He put his hand in her face and told her, "Hold on."

Without explanation, they took my friend outside the door and then and only after we were completely outside the club did they say his "shirt was too long." His shirt, by the way, which was a medium American Eagle polo shirt. Any shorter and he would have revealed his belly button. Then, they demanded we take off our armbands and leave. We weren't inside for two minutes! I went back to the car and cried.

So my once-in-a-lifetime 18th birthday wouldn't end badly, my friend suggested we go to Crystal's. And even though it was nearly 1:30a and the club closed at two, I was so upset and hurt that I agreed. So we went to the gay bar. One word: Whoah!

Me: -eyes watery, upset-
Gay man inside: "Oh, honey, what's wrong?"
Me: -relays Cowboys story-
My cousin, sister, and friend: "They so racist... omg..."
Gay man #2: "Yeah, you shouldn't have gone there."
Me: "Well, it's my 18th birthday, so I thought I'd at least give it a try."
Gay man inside: "Look, don't worry about it, because let me tell you something," -looks me up and down- "Nice breasts, nice dress and lovely legs. Honey, you're gorgeous!"
Me: ^___________^
Gay man #2: "Well, you should've come last night. Tonight's drag night."
Me, my cousin, my sister and friend: "...Excuse me?"

I saw... things...

After that... experience, we were walking to the car and this older guy walked out of one of the bars. He had tattoo sleeves on each arm and looked like he had been drinking since dawn. He recognized my friend.
Drunk guy: "What are you doing here?"
Darius: "It's my friend's birthday." -motions towards me-
Drunk guy: -stares- -begins to approach hand outstretched- "Well, hello..."
Me: "Uhm.. hi." -shake-
Drunk guy: "You are a very pretty girl... So it's your birthday?"
Me: "Yes, my 18th birthday."
Drunk guy: "Oh, then you're my favorite kind of girl; the legal kind." -moves a little closer-
My sister: *ahem*
Drunk guy: -backs away a little- "Hey, man, it's this pretty girl's birthday."
Drunk guy #2: -passes over my sister and cousin and stares at me- "Well, happy birthday."
Drunk guy #1: "How'd you know I was talking about her?"
Drunk guy #2: "Well... you said 'pretty girl,' so naturally I looked at her."
Me: You're both like 30 though...

There's so much more I wish I could... remember and relay. The night ended like so many other outings I've enjoyed in Lake Charles.. at L'Auberge. Le Cafe is 24-7 and pretty cheap. It was about 3am, and I ordered French toast. Yum yum. Me, my sister, my cousin and Darius laughed and talked about the night, life, and vampires (don't ask).

All in all, I have a lot of memories. I thank God and everyone who contributed to the celebrations for allowing me to have such an amazing birthday.

.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.

Who writes short shorts? I DO!!!

The cool winds began to blow, signifying the beginning of fall. While all slowed to a calm demeanor outside; inside, a woman found herself screaming at the top of her lungs, tossing her head from side to side, clawing at the bloody sheets of her bed. It was the end of a most trying pregnancy. They say the first is always the toughest. Her pain ended hours later with three simple words: “It’s a boy.”

Isaac Hawkins was a most decorated soldier in the King’s Army. While returning home one night from routine orders, he found himself in an unfamiliar alleyway on London’s lower end. He was vaguely familiar with the area. They said there were only two things that could be found here: cheap ale and cheaper women. Isaac was disoriented and admittedly a bit lost. That’s when he saw her. Her eyes were soft; her words gentle and kind. Seeming to be an angel appearing from thin air, she offered to “help” the lost soldier find his way back to camp. She managed to sweet talk her way into his pockets and, eventually, into his bed. After a dizzying night of passion and ecstasy, Isaac awoke to a cold, empty bed and nothing to remember this mysterious stranger by but the name she whispered into his ear. “Mary.” He cursed himself for being so foolish and managed to return to his camp in the morning and never told the story to anyone as he tried to forget the entire ordeal himself.

As a child, Christopher never wondered about his father’s absence as he was never left wanting for a male influence in his life. His mother always made sure he was clothed and fed, but most of all loved. Every night, she would kiss his forehead and sing him to sleep before going to “work.” His days were spent with a young woman he referred to as Nurse Anne, who played games with him, told him stories and generally educated him. Because his mother’s earnings went directly to food, clothing and other necessities, there was never enough to send him to school. But young Christopher didn’t care about such things. He thoroughly enjoyed his home life and never wanted to leave.

But the lower end of London was no place to raise a child. No, it was more of an end than a beginning for those who found themselves there. Feeling horrible for the position she had forced her innocent son into, Mary saved for many years to send him to a proper school within the city where he could learn and make something of himself. When Christopher was twelve, she had done it.

To put it simply, Christopher hated that school. The children teased him because of his tattered clothes and disheveled appearance. What little friends he could manage to make were torn away from him because their parents felt that he came from “bad blood.” He was ostracized, ridiculed and humiliated day in and day out for just being who he was. If children weren’t laughing to his face, the teachers were whispering behind his back. Every night, he cried himself to sleep within his dormitory; wishing things could go back to the way the way they were. It was at this school that Christopher began to wonder about his father. Where was he? Why had he left a woman with a child and no money? What had become of him? At age sixteen, he knew what he had to do. He left the school and went in search of his father.

His search brought Christopher out of England and into France. It was only by a stroke of luck that someone had placed his strange accent and last name. They asked if the boy was part of the army. Figuring this would lead him to his father, he said yes.

Before he knew it, he had unwittingly enlisted in France’s army. The men here were different. Unlike the children at his English school, they immediately accepted Christopher for the person he was, not where he came from. He was able to shed the dark shell of his past and become a whole new person; uninhibited – boisterous, if you will. He enjoyed the comradeship he found among fellow soldiers and proved to flourish in training activities. His eyesight was so keen that a friend gave him the nickname “Hawkeye.” The name was deemed fitting and stuck to Christopher. He never forgot his mission, though: to seek out his father.

It would be two years before he learned that his father had died in battle while Christopher was just a baby. The commanding officers couldn’t believe Isaac Hawkins had had a son. From their stories, the young man learned his father was an honorable, respectable man and soldier. Those who worked close with his father agreed that Isaac would never abandon any child he fathered, no matter who the mother was. This finally closed the missing chapter in Christopher’s life. His heart was as peace and for the first time in years, he slept soundly through the night.

Years later, his duty lead him to Romaera. He was a young man about twenty or so, newly promoted to the position of Captain. Hawkeye and a small group of soldiers were sent to protect the rapidly growing town as the infamous Clock Tower and Cathedral had brought tourists from all corners of France and the population was growing faster than resources allowed. Rather than barging in with a list of rules and regulations for the people, the Captain took to getting to know the people on a personal level. This gained him the two things he needed to keep order: adoration and respect. Given his likeability, the people appointed him as their Voice. He graciously accepted, knowing that he served them and not vice versa.

Yes, the Captain and his men found a home in Romaera and unanimously opted to stay even after things were stable. Everyone loved him. Well… Nearly everyone. Captain Hawkeye has a true enemy in Father LeCroix. During the two’s first meeting, it was clear to him that LeCroix looked down on the Captain. Somehow, LeCroix had found out about Christopher’s past in England – about his mother. It would seem that LeCroix feels as though the lovable Captain is sinful and “unclean,” due to his mother’s sins. And he never lets him forget it. It is the Captain’s supreme hope that the two-faced Father will be shown for what he truly is and pay for what he has done to the people.

.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.

FUCK YOU!!!

I am so mad right now! Like... so mad, I can't function. I just want to destroy something. I'm really hoping this vent will help. Though I seriously doubt it. I'm writing this as it comes to me. So, hold on, it'll be a bumpy ride.

How dare you! How fucking DARE you, you bastard! After 18 years, you want to assert authority?! Now? NOW?!?! On this day? Why now, hm? I can't believe you! You're unbelievable. I will never forgive you for this. EVER! Seriously, I will never speak to you again. I'll have my godfather walk me down the aisle. I'll leave the room when you enter. And I swear to God, if you ever dare to even talk to me... AHHHH! Maybe that's too far. I shouldn't involve God in this. He is not to blame. YOU are. You fucking bastard! I never liked you much before, you know. But this takes the cake! The straw that breaks the camel's back, as they say. I hate you now. I really think I do. I may as well.

I only turn 18 once. And you've made it your mission to fuck that up as well. Another notch on the birthdays you've managed to fuck up belt, hm? Congratulations. Bastard.

.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.

P.S. - Well, that didn't work. I'm still pissed.