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"So, do you have a boyfriend back home?"
"Sure do."
"Is he...like you?"

I wasn't entirely sure how to answer that - mostly because I wasn't sure what the girl meant by "like me." Does he find humour in little random things? Constantly. Does he like to dance? Damn skippy. Is he painfully shy? Not outwardly, so far as I've been able to glean from him. (Writing this, now I'm trying to decide what *I* mean by "like me" - maybe it's because it's one in the morning, but I'm finding this difficult.)

In the end, I asked her what she meant. Loquacious was the first word she came up with, along with "bookish, very intelligent (emphasis on the very), analytical...is he a geek?" Heh. She said she couldn't see me dating someone who wasn't as smart as I am - that I wouldnt' be able to stand it. It's the strangest thing. For the past two years, since I've been at college, I haven't thought much about my intelligence - if anything, I've discovered how truly dumb I am in some areas. Before that, though, it was my defining characteristic - I was the "smart girl," the one teachers loved and students only talked to when they needed help with work. That certainly hasn't been what I've been at college - I feel like I'm somewhere in the middle-to-lower range there. I've just crown accustomed to being around very intelligent people - it's never eally felt like I sought out the intelligensia or anything, they were just all around me. So asking if my boyfriend was smart...I've never really thought about it. The fact that we could talk for hours at a time and I didn't feel like I had to use little words so he could understand me, or like it was completely over my head when he talked, was a good sign of compatibility. Beyond that, who cares? It's almsot like I've stopped thinking in terms of "smart people" and "not-smart" people. Which, to me, is for the best.

Here, now...for the past few days in rehearsal we've been breaking down the language of the play. Basically, we've been reading through the scenes, identifying the basica actions/themes in the scenes and where they change, and discussing difficulties in the language (i.e. figuring out what the devil the characters are saying). It's been slow, because not only is it Shakespeare, but it's complicated Shakespeare - one of the leads is bascially going mad with jealousy, making his language go all over the place.

So rehearsals were structured like this: break down the actions of the scene, read through it, "ok, what's this line mean?" Apparently, number one I was the only memeber of the cast who actually read the footnotes, and number two I just made sense, so I became the honorary Shakespearean scholar. It was to the point that the director was deferring to my interpretations of lines, just because they made more sense. I felt almsot like I was back home, throwing ideas around and discussing the meanings, only I didn't get challenged nearly as much as I would have back home.

I'm trying to remember where all this was leading...oh, right. So apparently I am known amongst our cast as the one who knows what she's talking about, which is exciting. And I really need to get to sleep. I get to sleep in tomorrow! Yay. Huzzah for weekends.

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May 2015


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