In looking at some of the past couple of entries, I’m honestly afraid I’m becoming too “issue-driven” (Drinking is bad! Weighing yourself is even worse!) lately. Not that there’s anything WRONG with that, but let’s face it – it’s not really what you expect of me, is it?
I’m taking the stage for Mortified again this week, for the first time since…February, I think? It’s so hard to keep track of when you’re humiliating yourself for art. At any rate, I’m rolling out “new” material this time around (meaning same diaries, different entries). It has been helpful to have spent some time screening and editing diary entries from OTHER readers; I was able to approach my own stuff with a sharper eye.
Basically, what I’ve learned from both being onstage presenting my own dreck and culling through the dreck of others is that if it makes you cringe, you must read it. You must. This is my personal Rule of Thumb for Mortified. You’re not up there pretending to be cool, and if everything you wrote back then was awesome and NOT embarrassing, chances are nobody wants to hear it.
And so I’ve put together (with the help of co-producer Karen Corday) a tale of a girl who took Drama Club so SERIOUSLY that by her senior year this would have been an entirely accurate comparison:
No, really. Wait until you hear it. After Karen’s final approval, I read through it the other night and oh, my God, I HATED ME SO MUCH. It was fantastic. I love Mortified 4-eva.