Monologue

So, we have a monologue we have to pick, memorize, and present as our midterm on the 8th in acting class. I’m trying to memorize mine. I’m hoping that writing it out a few times will help. I’ve got a good part of it, but certainly not all. So, since this is usually the page I see most often and I have nothing better to talk about…

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The Interview
–Jill Morley

Don’t you have a scene for me to read? I am so boring. I am not one of those personality actresses. I’m completely devoid of personality. You’re probably looking for one of those fun-loving, festive girls and that’s not me. You see, I don’t wear green on St. Patrick’s Day. I’m not the kind of girl who dresses for the holidays. I’m anti-holiday. I don’t know what it is… I have friends. They like me. I’m not even shy. Just… When I was in the third grade I wrote an essay for my teacher, Miss Laskowski. The theme was “I’ll Never Forget the Day…” I wrote something like, “I’ll never forget the day my father bought us ducklings. It was such a surprise. The smallest one was Milk. The next smallest was Quackers. The biggest was Harold. Milk was the first one to die…” I went on to coldly describe how each one of them got killed by my dog. I was a dark kid. In the margin, Miss Laskowski wrote, “I enjoyed your story! Very good.” She probably thought I would grow up to be an axe murderer. But instead, here I am, an actress. (laughs nervously) Oh! I started working this receptionist job but I’m terrible! I’m not built to “receive” people. I can’t synthesize a genuine smile to random people, strangers. Who cares? I don’t know them and the temp agency certainly isn’t paying me the big bucks.

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So, yeah. That’s my monologue. I’ve easily got it down to the shy bit. I also know the story about Milk and Quackers just fine. The rest is coming… The end is irritatingly slow for me. Oh well.

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