STUPIDHEAD!
by Katherine Cullen and Britta Johnson

Please note:

The following transcript is for audiences of Stupidhead!‘s live audio broadcast who will get more out of their experience by following along with a written text. The material is copyrighted and not to be copied or shared, privately or publicly.

A few other things:

• Before the show begins, there is a musical overture, followed by introductory remarks and a land acknowledgement.

• Also: the show is happening LIVE! So sometimes there are improvised sections, and sometimes the audio won’t follow the script precisely. We’ve tried to indicate improvised sections where we can.

• Also also: having trouble finding your place during the show? Just hit “Edit > Find” in your browser menu, and type in the sentence you just heard!


Audio Script, July 2021

INTRODUCTION

*Improv: Show Intro

KATHERINE: Hello and welcome to Stupidhead!: The audio experience. I’m Katherine Cullen. 

BRITTA: And I’m Britta Johnson. And we are broadcasting to you live from Wychwood Barns, Ontario, Canada.

KATHERINE: Double vaxxed and quite relaxed!  And we are so excited for you to be joining us.

BRITTA: We are SO excited to be in the same room! We’re best friends and it’s been a long time.

KATHERINE: Indeed it has. We have done this show many times before, but we wanted to deliver it to you in these trying times and our many international fans.  And we wanted to do it in a way that was safe, especially at a time when travel is quite reasonably discouraged.

BRITTA: So, we thought a live audio broadcast like the times of yore.  Storytelling before TikTok.

KATHERINE: Exactly. Now, I should mention to all of you out there that I can’t really sing.  But that’s great, because you’ll notice that works quite well with the theme of the show and makes an audio only version particularly adventurous and raw.

BRITTA: Fortunately, Katherine is surrounded by very talented people.  I will be accompanying her on the piano, and providing a one woman laugh track.  Meghan Speakman, our stage manager is here, as well as Adam Sakiyama our audio engineer.  Everyone’s looking fabulous.

KATHERINE: So cuddle up around your wifi signal, grab a bevvy and some snacks, buckle up your earbuds, and get ready for an audio odyssey.

BRITTA: Ok Katherine, it’s time to do the show.

KATHERINE: Do we have to?  I really like just chatting.

BRITTA: We are obligated to do the show I think.

KATHERINE: You’re right.

BOTH: Stupidhead!: The Musical.


OPENING

SONG: HERE I AM

WHEN I WAS YOUNG AND QUITE DYSLEXIC

I NEVER FELT I COULD BELONG

I WOULD ALWAYS GET IN TROUBLE

ALWAYS GET THE ANSWERS WRONG

WHEN I WAS YOUNG AND QUITE DYSLEXIC

IT WAS AS IF MY TONGUE WAS TIED

AND ALL MY AWFUL IMPERFECTIONS

MADE ME COWER AWAY AND HIDE

BUT THOSE DAYS ARE OVER NOW

I AM DIFFERENT THAN BEFORE

I WILL CELEBRATE MYSELF

I’M NOT A VICTIM ANYMORE

AND NOBODY IS PERFECT

AND IT’S TIME FOR ME TO SOAR

HEAR ME ROAR

HERE I AM

READY TO SING MY SONG

READY TO SPREAD MY WINGS

READY TO FLY

HERE I AM

SO WHAT IF I GET IT WRONG?

SO WHAT IF I’M UNPREPARED?

NO ONE WILL DIE

THIS IS ART ART IS HARD

I AM LETTING DOWN MY GUARD

I’M NOT JULIE FREAKING ANDREWS

AND FRANKLY I DON’T GIVE A DAMN

HERE I AM

Hello everyone, welcome to my musical. I love musicals. The only problem is I have no training or natural ability. So that’s a thing. It’s definitely an obstacle. But it’s going to be ok because I asked my genius friend Britta to help me write some songs about my struggles, and she did. And now I’m in a musical and I’m realizing my dream. I’m not insane, I do realize that this is hard and some people train for years and I don’t really know what pitch is, but so what, so what, I’m not Lin-Manuel Miranda whatever. It’s fine this musical is about failure, my failures, it’s about embracing that failure, it’s meta, it’s meta. So yeah!

HERE I AM

READY TO BARE IT ALL

READY TO STRUT MY STUFF

READY TO DANCE

HERE I AM

READY TO SCREAM OUT LOUD

READY TO STAND UP PROUD

AND TAKE A CHANCE

I AM HERE

I’VE BEGUN

IT’S MY TIME BENEATH THE SUN

I HAVE DONE MY VOCAL WARMUPS

SO YOU’LL LIKE ME AND WON’T THINK THAT I’M A SHAM

HERE I AM!

Oh, before I get ahead of myself, I should probably explain, just how my dyslexia affects my strange little brain. A little neuroscience, if you please.

OK THERE ARE SO MANY PARTS OF THE BRAIN

WORKING TOGETHER TO KEEP YOU SANE

BUT WE’LL DISCUSS THE SPOT

THAT I’VE BEEN TAUGHT

IS RESPONSIBLE FOR MY PAIN

THE PARIETAL LOBE IS THE NAME

AND REASONING IS THE GAME

IT’S HELPS YOU WITH LEFT AND RIGHT

AND LEARNING BY SIGHT

AND LIVING WITHOUT ANY SHAME

IT HELPS YOU WITH READING AND WRITING

SUCCEEDING AT SCHOOL

KNOWING DIRECTIONS AND BEING COOL

MAKING CONNECTIONS AND MAKING THE PIECES FIT

BUT WHEN YOU HAVE DYSLEXIA ALL THAT GOES TO SHIT.

GOT IT? GOOD.

NOW I SHOULD SAY MINE SPECIFICALLY DID NOT AFFECT MY READING 

I HAD A SPECIAL DIAGNOSIS THAT HAD MORE TO DO WITH MATH

IT HAD MORE TO DO WITH THINGS LIKE SPATIAL REASONING AND NUMBERS

BUT I STILL DID NOT EXACTLY HAVE A CLEAR AND EASY PATH.

But more on that later.

HERE I AM

THIS IS MY MUSICAL

THIS IS MY TIME TO SHINE

I’VE FINALLY ARRIVED

HERE I AM

NOTHING CAN STOP ME NOW

I HAVE DYSLEXIA AND I SURVIVED

HERE I AM

THE SONG ISN’T OVER YET

I AM STILL SINGING IT

LOOK AT ME GO

HERE I AM

IT ISN’T TOO LATE TO LEAVE.

YOU CAN JUST TURN THIS OFF

AND MAKE SOME SOURDOUGH.

No really, I would understand if you wanted to do something else like, go for a walk or scroll social medes, or… yeah that’s about all there is to do.  I totally get it. I would not judge you. I can just summarize the show a bit, I talk about dyslexia, I sing some songs, I learn to love myself or something, that’s it. Very typical. 

HERE I AM!


A MUSICAL ABOUT DYSLEXIA?

*Improv: Doing a Musical

KATHERINE: Ok. I think that went well. Thank you for coming. How’s everyone doing, good? How are you doing Britta?

BRITTA: I’m doing really well.  Excited. How are you?

KATHERINE: I’m also really excited. It is not every day that your childhood dreams come true, mine being to be in a musical which until now seemed impossible due to a few hurdles like lack of training and natural ability, but I think it’s really important not to limit yourself.

BRITTA: Was it your dream to be in a musical specifically about dyslexia?

KATHERINE: No not specifically about dyslexia, I thought it would be something more like “Cool: Girl, the Musical”

BRITTA: Oh “Cool Girl: The Musical” “Owning A Car in the City: The Musical”

KATHERINE: Right.

BRITTA: Yeah a musical about dyslexia feels pretty niche market.

KATHERINE: Yes. But, the kind of dyslexia I have is also pretty niche as well.

The thing about dyslexia is that it’s different in different people. Like different people will experience their dyslexia differently. Like cilantro. And it doesn’t always have to do with flipping letters or not being able to read. That is some people’s experience of it but not mine so much. Because I have this thing called dyscalculia. Which is a type of dyslexia.

BRITTA: What’s Dyscalculia?

KATHERINE: Dyscalculia is difficulty with linear and spatial reasoning. Which means I am horrible at math. Planning and organization are very difficult, and finding things is really hard, like finding my way around and understanding directions, I get lost constantly. Not being good at that stuff has gotten me into some major pickles for sure.

BRITTA WILL HELP THIS MUSICAL HAPPEN

Planning and organization are kind of my major issues now. I continue to have to deal with the fact that in life you sort of need to plan things out rather than just roll around bumping into things and calling that a day, which is my normal method of living.

*Improv: Asking Britta for help

KATHERINE: Like, do you remember when I asked you to work on this show with me?

BRITTA: Oh I remember.

KATHERINE: Tell our listeners all about it?

BRITTA: Katherine showed up at my house, somewhat unannounced, and said that she has an opportunity to workshop this new musical she wants to write about growing up with dyslexia, but she doesn’t have any songs, and asks if I can help. And I said sure, and I asked, “What’s your vision, what do you want the songs to sound like?” And then she sang me that song by The Crash Test Dummies, how does it go?

BOTH: (sing) SUPERMAN NEVER MADE ANY MONEY…

BRITTA: Yeah, she sang me that song from start to finish, and the then she told me that the workshop was in two days.

KATHERINE: Yep.

BRITTA: But we pulled it off. 

KATHERINE: Yeah, we really did! Which was a relief. Because sometimes my issues with organization have led to embarrassing moments, like the first time I sang a song in front of people, things ended badly.


JESUS CHRIST SUPERSTAR IS MY FAVOURITE MUSICAL

So I went to this audition when I was eighteen for this show that was written in the medieval era. It was called Aura and had never been staged before for reasons which were clear: it was very bad.

It was a group audition for the lead, for Aura, so it wasn’t just the director watching, it was all the other young ladies auditioning for Aura too. My reading did not go well. I could read fine in my head but it was very very difficult for me to read out loud especially if I was stressed. And then the director was like, “Great Katherine, in this next scene Susan is going to read for Aura now, and you are going to stand in the corner and pretend to be a plant. Mkay?”

So then I was a plant for like half an hour, which I didn’t feel I was very good at. I just looked like a human being standing there weirdly. But during my time as a plant I started to get really freaked out because one of the other girls standing beside me who was also a plant whispered, “What song are you going to sing?” and I was like, “Song? We need a song?” and she was like, “Yes. We were supposed to prepare a song. It was in the email. I’m singing Ave Maria.” And then, I was like, “Oh no!” And I was like, “It’s cool, I know songs.” But no songs came to my head. I couldn’t remember any songs ever written, I couldn’t remember any songs. Except… for one.

(Britta plays ‘Jesus Christ Superstar’)

Now, Jesus Christ Superstar is my favourite musical. That’s just a fact about me. I do know all of the words. However, on this occasion the only song I could remember from the entire canon was the song Judas sings right before he hangs himself. (Music out) So I was like, it’s fine. I have this song, it’s very moving, I will sing it.

(Music Back in)

I began down on the ground, as Carl Anderson does in the 1973 film version directed by Norman Jewison, and I was pretending to be in the desert so I was touching sand and I was like:

I DON’T KNOW HOW TO LOVE HIM

I DON’T KNOW WHY HE MOVES ME

HE’S A MAN, HE’S JUST A MAN

HE’S NOT A KING – HE’S JUST THE SAME AS ANYONE I KNOW

HE SCARES ME SO.

And I should have stopped at –

WHEN HE’S COLD AND DEAD

WILL HE LET ME BE?

 DOES HE LOVE, DOES HE LOVE ME TOO?

DOES HE CARE FOR ME? OH!

But I just didn’t have the presence of mind and in my head, I was fully in the Israeli desert. And then I was like: scrambling up rocks and taking fistfuls of sand in my hand while I sang,

MY MIND IS IN DARKNESS NOW

GOD I’M SICK I’VE BEEN USED

AND YOU KNEW ALL THE TIME GOD, GOD

I’LL NEVER KNOW WHY YOU CHOSE ME FOR YOUR CRIME

YOUR FOUL BLOODY CRIME!

YOU HAVE MURDERED ME!

MURDERED ME MURDERED ME MURDERED ME MURDERED ME MURDERED ME!

And then I mimed climbing up a tree. (Music hit) I tied a pretend rope around my neck. (Music hit) And I hanged myself for all to see. (Music hit)

And then I looked out at the rest of the room. There was complete silence and everyone was like, ‘ew’.

The director was like, “Thank you Katherine, I think I’ve seen enough”. (Music button)


POETRY COMPETITION OF 1993

KATHERINE: Hey Britta, do you remember the year 1993?

BRITTA: Not really. I was two.

KATHERINE: Ok well, it was kind of a seminal year for me.

Back in 1993, Miss Vlasic announced that there would be a school-wide poetry competition. I was very excited by this as I connected with things that I considered “oldey-timey” and for some reason I put poetry in that category. I was much like a kind of Victorian ghost: constantly getting colds, insisting on wearing dresses and passing the time sketching falling leaves and acorns.

BRITTA: How romantic.

KATHERINE: It was indeed. And melancholic.

Miss Vlasic was my grade three teacher and she was my favourite teacher. She loved art and really kind of didn’t bother teaching the other subjects which was fine with me.

No one in the class really knew what a poem was exactly and she was careful to point out that poems didn’t have to be something that rhymed, that there could be nuance and economy of thought…not exactly in those words. 

So I wrote a poem called “The Wind” which didn’t rhyme at all and was sort of about life and death I think now looking back on it, it was kind of Buddhist of me. I showed it to her and she loved it. She loved it so much and she made this big deal about it, and it was chosen amongst a few other poems in the class to be entered into the competition.

This was the first time I ever thought I could be good at anything. I was so used to getting everything wrong, it was a new feeling to feel that I had gotten anything right, and it was the biggest deal of my life. I thought that since I had been selected, maybe I would win because nothing like that had ever happened to me before.

(Music in)

But sometimes life is more normal than you would like it to be. And I lost. I lost to Peter Dyakowski.

SONG: PETER DYAKOWSKI WON

PETER DYAKOWSKI WON

PETER DYAKOWSKI WON

PETER DYAKOWSKI WON T

HE POETRY COMPETITION OF 1993.

MS. VLASIC SAID, ‘RHYMING DOESN’T MATTER’

MS. VLASIC SAID TO WRITE WHAT I FEEL

MS. VLASIC SAID I WAS A POET!

BACK IN THE YEAR OF 1993.

BUT MS. VLASIC WAS A TWO-FACED LIAR

UNFORTUNATELY SHE LIED TO ME

CAUSE IN THE END RHYMING MATTERED!

AS EVIDENCED BY DYAKOWSKI.

PETER’S POEM WAS ABOUT HIS LITTLE BROTHER

AND THE FIGHTS THEY HAD WITH ONE ANOTHER

MINE WAS A METAPHOR FOR HUMAN MORTALITY…

BUT POIGNANCY BECOMES A FACELESS CASUALTY 

WHEN CUTE RHYME SCHEMES HAVE TYRANNICAL SOVEREIGNTY

SO I’LL TRY FOR ALL OF ETERNITY

TO WRITE NICE RHYME SCHEMES AND EXCELLENT POETRY

TO PROVE TO EVERYONE THAT I CAN BE

JUST AS GOOD AS DYAKOWSKI, 

BACK IN THE YEAR OF 1993.

Peter is not the only person with a brother. I also have one. So fuck you Peter.

When I was young, my little brother Tom and I would go to the corner store to buy treats. Did you do that Peter?  Usually we would buy sour keys. Do you buy sour keys Peter?  I didn’t understand how much things cost because I didn’t know what a dime was or what five cents was or 25 cents. When I would read the price of the sour keys I would have to ask my little brother if I had enough money for them because I couldn’t count my change. It was an unspoken deal between us that I would follow Tom around the store and would hold up the sour key and my change and whisper, “Do I have enough for this?” and Tom would shake his head yes or no. I never went to the corner store by myself.

I could never actually really find the corner store by myself anyway. Even though it was only a block away and around the corner, it took me years to be able to remember how to get there.

Things would just constantly feel wonky and disorienting, like there are parts of my childhood that felt like and involuntary acid trip.


COMMUNIST PUPPET THEATRE

Speaking of LSD, about 7 years ago, I decided to apprentice at a communist puppet theatre in rural Vermont. I had broken up with my boyfriend or he had sort of broken up with me by CHEATING ON ME WITH TWELVE PEOPLE. So I thought camping in the woods of Vermont with a troupe of alcoholic puppeteers would help me deal with my anger. Or at least re-direct it.

*Improv: Puppet theatre after a breakup

BRITTA: Most people just get bangs after a breakup

KATHERINE: I’m not most people

BRITTA: You chose the communist puppet theatre in rural Vermont

KATHERINE: Yes, although I don’t know that I would recommend it for getting over a breakup

In preparation for the trip I did the following planning and organization: absolutely nothing. I went to New York first to visit my friend Shannon on the way to Vermont.

Shannon was like, “Where’s your tent? You have to camp for two weeks and it doesn’t look like you have a tent.” And I was like, “No you’re right, I don’t have one. I thought I would just like, get one somehow…”

And then she was like, “Ok, well you can borrow mine.” And then I was like, “See?”

Then we went to a bar so we could drink while talking. And Shannon was like, “Did you pack toilet paper? You’re going to be in the wilderness and you’re not going to have any toilet paper.”

I was like, “No. I have no toilet paper.” And Shannon was like, “Dude, I’m going to hook you up.”

She went to the bathroom and brought back 5 rolls of toilet paper in her purse. We did this several times until I had enough for two weeks.

*Improv: Toilet paper

BRITTA: Now, why did Shannon think that the communist puppet theatre wouldn’t have any toilet paper?

KATHERINE: That is a question you’d have to ask Shannon.

BRITTA: And did the Communist puppet theatre have any toilet paper?

KATHERINE: In fact yes, they had lots.

BRITTA: What did you do with the all the toilet paper?

KATHERINE: I made a small side table out of it in my tent.

BRITTA: Incredibly resourceful!

KATHERINE: It was! It really pulled the tent together.

So I had a garbage bag full of toilet paper in one hand, and a tent in the other. I rode the 4 am train out of Brooklyn to Montpelier, Vermont, which is where the puppet people were supposed to pick us up in a school bus and drive us into the woods where their puppet headquarters lay.

I hadn’t really timed things out exactly so I had about 8 hours to kill. I knew that the puppet people were going to pick us up at one particular coffee shop in town but I didn’t think to write down the name. (Music in) I don’t know why I thought Montpelier would only have one coffee shop in it. It didn’t. It had many coffee shops. So I started going into every coffee shop to ask:

SONG: PUPPET PEOPLE

KATHERINE: IS THIS WHERE THE PUPPET PEOPLE GET PICKED UP?

 BRITTA: HUH?

KATHERINE: GET PICKED UP

BRITTA: WHO?

KATHERINE: GET PICKED UP?

BRITTA: WHAT?

KATHERINE: IS THIS WHERE THE PUPPET PEOPLE GET PICKED UP?

BRITTA: NO!

KATHERINE: THEN I’LL BE ON MY WAY.

Two hours go by, and I’m carrying my duffle bag, and the tent and the huge garbage bag of toilet paper (that is slowly ripping), so every time I walk into a coffee shop, I have to throw each thing inside first and say:

KATHERINE: IS THIS THE PARTICULAR PATISSERIE WHERE PUPPET PEOPLE GET PICKED UP?

BRITTA: HUH?

KATHERINE: GET PICKED UP?

BRITTA: WHO?

KATHERINE: GET PICKED UP?

BRITTA: WHAT?

KATHERINE: IS THIS THE PARTICULAR PATISSERIE FOR PUPPETS-? 

BRITTA: NO! 

KATHERINE: THEN I’LL BE ON MY WAY.

So, hours have passed, and I’m delirious with hunger. I’m on the periphery of Montpelier, and a tumbleweed rolls by, and an old man looks at me and says, “Winter is coming!” and I burst through the doors of a lonely I, and say:

KATHERINE: PLEASE, IS THIS THE PARTICULAR PATISSERIE PRESERVED 

FOR THE PUPPET PEOPLE PEACING TO THE PRETTY PLEASANT PINES 

WHERE I’LL HAVE A PITY PARTY WHILE THE PALE MOON SHINES 

ON MY PICTURE PERFECT PINKO PUPPET PARADISE?

BRITTA: WHA?

KATHERINE: IS THIS WHERE THE PUPPET PEOPLE GET PICKED UP? 

GET PICKED UP?

GET PICKED UP? 

IS THIS WHERE THE PUPPET PEOPLE GET PICKED UP?

BRITTA: HELL YEAH, MAMACITA!

(Katherine weeps with gratitude) Oh my god thank you!

KATHERINE: Then the puppet people came to take me away.

BRITTA: So Katherine, what did you learn about yourself at the communist puppet retreat?

I learned a lot about myself. The two main takeaways are that I do not thrive in communal living and that I don’t want to dress as a giant butterfly in a re-enactment of 9/11 using puppets in a field surrounded by people who haven’t bathed in 2 weeks.

(Music transition – Here I am)


KINDERGARTEN PEE TIME

KATHERINE: Hey Britta, have you ever lost control of a bodily function in public?

BRITTA: I mean- like–??/

KATHERINE: Me too. In kindergarten I peed my pants so I wouldn’t get lost looking for the bathroom. I weighed things out, rationally, I thought, and said to myself in my head, “no, peeing right here in this moment during story time would be better than getting lost forever.” I tested the hypothesis. (Britta plays ‘When I was young…’) “No, no actually I think getting lost is better than pee. Yup, yes, I see that now.”

My “best friend” Emily came up to me and pointed to a massive wet spot on the carpet. “Who did that?” I looked down at the carpet and then looked straight into her eyes. “I have no idea.”

And then I turned around and walked away with an enormous wet spot on my pants.


DYSLEXIA IS JUDAS?

(music in)

There’s a line in Jesus Christ Superstar where Judas says to Jesus, right before he goes to turn him in to the High Priest,

WHAT IF I JUST STAYED HERE AND RUINED YOUR AMBITION

CHRIST YOU DESERVE IT

And Jesus is like:

HURRY YOU FOOL

HURRY AND GO

SAVE ME YOUR SPEECHES I DON’T WANT TO KNOW – GO!

And Judas runs away in a big crowd of sheep.Dyslexia is Judas and I’m, like I guess that would make me Jesus.

WHAT IF YOU JUST STAYED HERE AND PEED ON THIS CARPET?

KATHERINE YOU DESERVE IT!

EVERY TIME I LOOK AT YOU I DON’T UNDERSTAND

WHY YOU LET THE THINGS YOU DO GET SO OUT OF HAND

YOU’D HAVE MANAGED BETTER IF YOU HAD IT PLANNED

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! 


DYSLEXIA OR ME OR BOTH?

(Britta plays “When I was Young” transition)

There is a long list of things I have done that live in this grey area between my personality and dyslexia and I can’t figure out if they are one and the same or separate dudes. When I moved to Montreal at 22, it seemed too difficult to organize getting a bed so I found an old denim gym mattress in the basement of the apartment and slept on it for 6 months. It was enormous and covered my entire floor and I would fall into the fold in the middle when I was sleeping.

BRITTA: Did you have sheets on it?

KATHERINE: No.

I mistook fabric softener for laundry detergent because I didn’t read the label and washed my clothes with it for a year. I wondered why all my clothes got holes in them and were never really clean. A friend pointed it out to me when I was trying to sell them on ‘this super cheap laundry detergent I discovered’.

BRITTA: Your clothes must have been soft though.

KATHERINE: Softer than… a sweet summer night.

And actually, around this same time as well, I ate party mix for dinner most nights. That definitely has nothing to do with dyslexia.

The Internet! Not good at using it. I find it really confusing and I don’t really understand how to download anything, or follow instructions online or find stuff out. Like using the internet for research? I don’t like it. Too many options and it’s overwhelming. How do you torrent? I don’t like it. (music in)There was one particular time when I was trying to sign up for classes for my first undergrad semester. The year was 2002. Things went south very quickly.

SONG: THE INTERNET

LET ME SET THE SCENE:

I HAVE JUST TURNED SEVENTEEN

I’M ABOUT TO MAKE A BRAND NEW START

ACCEPTED TO MCGILL 

FEELING WONDERFUL UNTIL

I HAVE TO GO ONLINE

THEN I’M STARING AT A SCREEN

TRYING TO CLICK AND CHOOSE BETWEEN 

DIFFERENT COURSES IN LIBERAL ART

I WAS A MESS FROM THE STRESS

THE WEB IS NOT A STRENGTH OF MINE

NOW AT THIS POINT IN MY LIFE

WHENEVER I FELT STRIFE

I WOULD FEEL IT IN MY LOWER BOWEL

CAN’T SAY EXACTLY WHY

I’D HYPERVENTILATE AND CRY

AND THEN I’D GET THE SHITS

I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THAT I SHOULD STOP

WHEN I FELT MY STOMACH DROP 

OH I SHOULD HAVE THROWN IN THE TOWEL

BUT IT WAS DONE

I HAD TO RUN

IT WAS TIME FOR A BOWEL BLITZ

THEN I’M TRAPPED INSIDE THE BATHROOM DOWN THE HALL

TRYING TO YELL DIRECTIONS TO MY MOTHER THROUGH THE WALL

WHILE SHE SIGNED ME UP FOR CLASSES

I WAS SPEWING TOXIC GASSES

CAUSE THE INTERNET HAD MADE ME FALL

BY BEING ALL CLICK THIS CLICK THAT

OPEN UP A WINDOW

DOWNLOAD, TORRENT

BUT WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?

AND IT’S ALWAYS ASK JEEVES, GOOGLE SILLY WORDS LIKE YAHOO

PASSWORD, CAPTCHA

BUT WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN…?

EVEN TO THIS DAY

THE WEB STILL HAS A WAY

OF MAKING ALL MY BLOOD RUN COLD

I CAN’T DOWNLOAD, I CAN’T STREAM

AND MY FRAGILE SELF ESTEEM CAN’T TAKE THE PAIN

SO DON’T SPEAK OF GOOGLE MAPS

OF YOUR YOUTUBE OR YOUR APPS

NOW THAT MY TALE’S BEEN TOLD

I’LL BE A MESS FROM THE STRESS

THE INTERNET MAKES ME INSANE

BY BEING ALL CLICK THIS CLICK THAT

OPEN UP A WINDOW

PASSWORD PASSWORD TRY AGAIN

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?

OH GOD I HAVE SEVEN THOUSAND EMAILS

STILL UNOPENED HELP ME!

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN? 

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN? 

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN? 

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?

All I want to be is the kind of woman who can download season three of the Good Wife, or find out what time a movie’s playing…how do I buy tickets? 


THE TERRORS OF TINDER

*Improv: Tinder

KATHERINE: Hey Britta, have you been on Tinder?

BRITTA: Who hasn’t?

KATHERINE: Did you like it?

BRITTA: No, it’s mostly pictures of men holding up fish that they’ve killed. Have you been on Tinder?

Yes, and I didn’t like it and I didn’t get any dates from it. In part I didn’t like it because I hate small talk, and I hate small talk with a total stranger over text even more.

BRITTA: Seems impossible if you don’t fish.

KATHERINE: What is there even to talk about?

Am I supposed to show that I am fun and flirty??? Because I’m not. Am I supposed to seem cool? I don’t know what you people out there have gleaned from these stories so far but I am categorically not cool. To me, Tinder feels like I’m at a middle school dance and a slow song comes on (Britta plays ‘All My Life’) and rather than troll the periphery of the dance floor sort of wanting someone to ask me to dance but also dreading it completely, I would rather hide in the bathroom and wait for “All My Life” by K-Ci and JoJo to be over. (Britta sings ‘All My Life’) When I was at those dances, my secret desire was that someone would notice me dancing in a really funny way with my group of friends and recognize my whimsy and sense of humor through my dance moves, come over and say “Hey I saw your dancing, you are a hilarious dancer and seem like you like to joke around, want to dance?” and I would be like “yes, you obviously understand me! We can be weird together!!!” That never happened. (music out)

Sometimes Tinder made me laugh though. I found this dude on there that called himself Grime.

BRITTA: Grime?

KATHERINE: Grime.

I thought this was ridiculous so I took a more in-depth look at his profile. He wrote, “My name is Mike, Grime is an inside thing.” And then, among his various interests he listed “Dobermans and Nutella.” (music in) I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not but I thought if he was joking, then he would be a perfect match for me.

SONG: DOBERMANS AND NUTELLA

NAME: GRIME

ACTUALLY, IT’S MIKE BUT GRIME IS AN INSIDE JOKE

(I LIKE TO JOKE AROUND WITH MY FRIENDS)

AGE: TWENTY-SEVEN

GOING ON FORTY IN EMOTIONAL MATURITY (HA-HA)

THIS BABY THAT I’M HOLDING IS NOT MY KID

 BUT IF IT MAKES YOU TRUST ME LIKE I THINK IT DID

SCROLL DOWN READ ON

THERE’S LOTS TO LEARN ABOUT ME

DOBERMANS AND NUTELLA

THOSE ARE TWO THINGS I LIKE

DOBERMANS AND NUTELLA

DID I MENTION THAT MY NAME IS MIKE?

ONE OF THEM IS VICIOUS

ONE OF THEM’S DELICIOUS

BOTH OF WHICH I CAN’T LIVE WITHOUT

DOBERMANS AND NUTELLA

THAT’S WHAT I’M ALL ABOUT

GIRL, I CAN GUESS WHAT YOU’RE THINKING

I CAN READ YOUR MIND AND WHAT YOU’RE THINKING IS

WHAT’S THIS GUY’S GAME?

(I’M A MYSTERY!)

HOW COULD ONE PERSON HAVE INTERESTS

SO VAST, SO ECLECTIC, SO ENTIRELY NOT THE SAME?

(I’M A PARADOX!)

BUT BABY, I’M A COMPLICATED KIND OF GUY

TO MISREPRESENT MYSELF WOULD BE A LIE

SO SIT BACK AND RELAX

JUST TRY TO TAKE IT ALL IN

DOBERMANS AND NUTELLA 

DO YOU WANNA GET TOGETHER FOR A DRINK?

DOBERMANS AND NUTELLA

HOW’S TUESDAY, WHAT DO YOU THINK?

GIRL, YOU’RE NOT REVEALING 

WHAT IT IS YOU’RE FEELING

I’D REALLY LIKE TO KNOW WHO YOU ARE

DOBERMANS AND NUTELLA

I’LL BE SITTING AT THE BAR

Girl, I’m so glad I could finally meet you. I’ve been waiting for this moment. I feel like you already know so much about me. My name. My interests. Why don’t you tell me what you’re into?”

Well, thank you for asking. I don’t have too many interests, just a few, like Jesus Christ Superstar, Victorian England, ancient healing wisdoms, fuzzy caterpillars…”

SECOND TEMPLE JUDAISM IS ALSO AN INTEREST OF MINE

AND KOREAN STATIONERY

MY FAVOURITE FLOWER IS THE DANDELION

I ALSO LIKE SOME DINOSAURS

SOME OF THEM, NOT ALL

THE PROCESS OF MUMMIFICATION

THE HISTORY OF ST. PAUL

MY FAVOURITE PLANET’S SATURN

LIKE YOU, I HAVE NO PATTERN

IN MY INTERESTS AND THE THINGS THAT I DO

DOBERMANS AND NUTELLA 

SEEM PRETTY COOL TOO

Cool. I gotta go. I gotta walk my dog. He’s a Doberman.”


ADVENTURES WITH EDWIN AND FORSWYTH

BRITTA: So it didn’t work out with Grime then?

KATHERINE: No, sometimes reality is so much more disappointing than whatever happens in my head.

When I was little I would tend to live in my head a lot because that was easier than having to face reality. Daydreaming about adventures doesn’t take planning; you just go on them. You just fly away, or get on a sailing ship or shrink to tiny inside a school bus and wind up inside a large intestine.

When I was 9, I used to write these stories about a koala bear named Edwin and a rabbit named Forswyth. I actually brought the book with me.

*Improv: A.A. Milne

BRITTA: The illustrations are very good. I wish everyone at home could see them.

KATHERINE: Me to.

BRITTA: Were you reading a lot of Winnie the Pooh at the time?

KATHERINE: I was.  The style was heavily influenced by A.A. Milne.

Edwin and Forswyth would have all kinds of adventures in the forest together and learned many lessons about what it means to live a good life. They are both very kind animals who like to bumble around with their friends. Sometimes they get into some sticky situations. Edwin is constantly getting lost in the enchanted forest and unfortunately for him, I never finished the book, so he is currently still lost in the forest at the end of chapter 4 waiting for a rescue team of his friends and family to come and save him.

Music Transition (When I was Young)


PETER DYAKOWSKI IS CANADA’S SMARTEST PERSON?

My screen time has gone way up since the start of the ye olde pandy, and I was on the internet recently which naturally involved me visiting Peter Dyakowski’s Facebook profile. And his Wikipedia page. And I added him on twitter. I am not friends with him so I guess this counts as stalking. Peter has done really well for himself actually. In fact he used to play for the CFL and was the offensive lineman for the Hamilton Tigercats. Good for him. I don’t know what offensive lineman people do but that sounds really nice. Also, he was once on the TV show Canada’s Smartest Person. And he won. (Britta plays “Peter Dyakowski won”) Peter Dyakowski is Canada’s Smartest Person. HOW? I watched some of the show it makes no sense, there is one segment where he is just moving blocks across a room. HOW DOES THAT HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH BEING SMART? I could move blocks around a room no problem.

Canada’s. Smartest. Person.


ROLE MODEL

One day last year I decided I wanted to be a role model to other dyslexic kids, so I decided to volunteer at this special dyslexic school. I didn’t really know what I was going to do because it’s not like I could help the kids with their homework or anything, like I’m bad at the same stuff they’re bad at. I think I was just hoping to be like, “Don’t worry kids! It doesn’t matter in the end, look at me I’m successful…right?” And they would hug me and be like, “We love you Katherine, thank you for your wisdom!” “Good job moving those blocks around!” and then the teacher would be like, “What an inspiration you are!”

I ended up getting very drunk the night before – it wasn’t my intention, it just happened. So I showed up to the school the next day profoundly hungover.

I didn’t really know what to do with myself for the entire day and I just kind of sat in the corner of the room like a creep and watched these kids learn stuff in a special dyslexic way.

At some point in the afternoon I watched a little boy have a private tutorial with a teacher to help him with his math homework. And I just could not handle it. He couldn’t sit still while he did it, he had to stand because he was super frustrated. And, he was waving this pipe cleaner around like a magic wand and I was like I have to get out of here to cry, because, this child is me. This child is me.


IT’S HARD TO MAKE YOURSELF DISAPPEAR

I used to sit with a pit in my stomach at school for most of the day. In those really early years, around ages 6, 7, and 8, my mum would have to leave early in the mornings to drive me to school because I would cry. I would cry the whole way to school most mornings because I was so scared of getting in trouble for not understanding my schoolwork, and I felt so confused, so stupid. We needed extra time each morning so that I would calm down. This fear of getting in trouble started pretty early, it was grade 1, with a teacher named Madam Vasson. She had a reputation for getting super angry, and I felt like I was always walking on eggshells waiting for her next blow up.

I don’t remember this time very well, but I do remember she would freak out at me a lot. And there was one time in particular where she just like, lost it and she – I came up to show her this math homework I had done, and I didn’t know any of the answers, and I was so scared, and we’d have to line up and it got to me, and she took my book and she just started ripping the pages out and she was ripping them out in front of the class and she was just screaming at me, calling me lazy and stupid, and I was like, six! And she told me to go sit in front of the class and not to talk to anybody. That nobody in the class should talk to me. And I remember sitting there, and this little girl, this other girl in the class said “You shouldn’t make her so mad” and I was like, “don’t talk to me you’re not allowed to talk to me”. She’s like “Don’t make her so mad.”


THE LEARNING DISABILITIES CENTRE

From grade 6 until grade 11, every single math class and French class I would have to get up in front of everybody, leave the classroom and go to the Learning Disabilities Centre. I hated this. I would either leave class by myself, or sometimes a teacher would come and get me. Either case it was humiliating. I remember one time in grade 6 this girl beside me once said as I was getting up to go, “I wish I was retarded like you so that I could leave during math.”


NIGHTMARES IN MATH

Have you ever wanted to take your math textbook and smash the heads of all the smart kids in your class until the room fills with their blood?

Math was never really something I sorted out.

Even up until the end of high school it was kind of a nightmare. An hour-long math test would take me 6 to 8 hours to complete, and even then, I usually failed or barely passed. My teacher would just give me the test in chunks rather than all at once and I would stay after school in the Learning Disabilities Centre for several hours over the course of 2 or 3 days. It was a marathon of frustration.

I spent a lot of time in the Learning Disabilities room thinking I was some kind of loser, but I used to write so many stories that were – at least mediocre, sometimes actually quite cute. Like Edwin and Forswyth who had adventures in the forest and who were really quite civilized animals who had lots to say about nature and ideas and friendship but instead of working on my stories I was doing my times tables and hating myself. WHY BOTHER TEACHING ME THAT IF I DON’T GET IT?

I had this one math teacher – OH MY GOD. She was a Learning Disabilities Centre teacher and every time I would get an answer wrong (which was often) she would erase it and just say “No, no, no, no, no” over and over. EVERY TIME. It would kill me. I had so many fantasies of holding her face in my hands and screaming directly into her soul to stop.

(Britta plays ‘When I was young…’)


I CAN’T DO IT

There is an image that plays for me over and over. It’s a memory that has hardened like resin in a little container in the back of my mind. It is grade 12, I am in the Learning Disabilities Centre, and I am taking the last math test I will ever have to take. I am graduating, I am leaving. There is a young boy sitting diagonally from me. He must be 13 or 14. He has a bowl haircut, which accentuates the roundness of his face. He wears a turtleneck. He reminds me of a little mushroom. He is not one of the cool kids.

He is sobbing. Almost out of control, he sobs over a sheet of paper, a test of some sort, yelling, “I can’t do it! I can’t do it! I can’t do it!” Two supply teachers try and calm him down but he won’t be contained.

He can’t do it.

I look at the clock on the wall and watch my time in the Learning Disabilities Centre start to dwindle, and I wonder if part of my identity will fade. I wonder if it will get locked in the basement of my school only to visit throughout the years like a ghost. Or a dream. A morbid looking brain knocking at my door at night…massive numbers made of foam like on Sesame Street except these ones have fangs and have knives sticking out of their belly buttons or something..I replace these weirdo images in my mind with something more appealing. Visions of myself owning a car and driving around to very important meetings, always looking awesome and always getting A’s because that’s what life will be like without math tests and spelling and the Learning Disabilities Centre.  Cool Girl: The Musical.

“I can’t do it I can’t do it I can’t do it”. And he keeps interrupting my fantasy of future perfection.


THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A NICE SMOOTH PERSONALITY

Do you know that on my high school graduation ceremony, I was so pretentious that I brought The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath and pretended to read it out of sheer boredom for my own graduation from high school? That is DISGUSTING. “I am so misunderstood that only the masochism of Sylvia Plath can help me endure this pitiful display of human accomplishment.” Like why couldn’t you just admit that it meant something to you to graduate from high school??? And yes, sometimes I am really frustrated that I need to ask my brother to come with me to the corner store or drive to the airport because I’m scared I’ll get lost. I hate, hate, hate getting lost. If it is possible for a woman in her thirties to throw a tantrum, then this is what I am on the brink of doing every single time I get lost. It makes me feel like I am forever shackled to a hapless eight-year old version of myself that I wish would grow up already.


GETTING LOST

When I was little, I would get lost walking home from my friend Dani’s house who lived NEXT DOOR because I couldn’t tell if my house was my house or not. I would look at it for a while, like really studying it, and then I would go, “I don’t think that’s it”, and I would walk down the street looking for it and obviously not finding it. So coming home from Dani’s house would take me quite a while and sometimes my mum would have to come look for me and walk me home.

She told Dani’s mom to walk me home but of course, her mom just thought my mom was being overprotective. So she wouldn’t. I was not able to say, due to embarrassment, that I really couldn’t find my own house so I just kind of agreed to get lost.


THE GETTING LOST SHIRT

One time I was drinking grape juice with Dani. She bumped into me, and it made me to spill my grape juice all over my shirt and on her kitchen floor. Her mom got so mad at me even though it wasn’t my fault. She yelled at me and told me to get out of her house, Dani’s house, and there is a long hedge of dense plants that her older brother sometimes sticks garbage into instead of just throwing it away and I hate that because it is really mean to the plant. It’s really mean to force a plant to be a trashcan.

And I don’t know if I should turn left or right and I choose right but it’s not the right way. (music in) I am running down the street and the grape juice is drying on my favorite shirt that has a dancing banana on it who is wearing cool-dude shades. I am sad this shirt is stained and now it is a getting lost shirt.

SONG: WHAT IF I NEVER FIND MY WAY

SO I RUN OUT OF DANI’S HOUSE

HER HOUSE IS BIG AND IT IS BROWN

 I SEE THE TREE IN HER YARD

I LOOK UP AND I LOOK DOWN

AND I LOOK LEFT AND I LOOK RIGHT

BUT I’M NOT SURE ABOUT THE WAY

I KNOW MY HOUSE IS BLUE AND WHITE

AND THAT THE FENCE IS KIND OF GREY

BUT I DON’T KNOW WHICH WAY TO TURN

OR HOW FAR I HAVE TO WALK

I FEEL MY EYES START TO BURN

AS I LOOK UP AND DOWN THE BLOCK

WHAT IF I NEVER FIND MY WAY?

WHAT IF I NEVER FIND MY WAY?

WHAT IF I NEVER FIND MY WAY?

SO THEN I START TO RUN

BUT ALL THE HOUSES LOOK THE SAME

I FEEL THE HEAT OF THE SUN

I FEEL THE HEAT OF THE SHAME

BECAUSE I DON’T LIVE VERY FAR

AND I SHOULD REALLY KNOW THE WAY

I KNOW MY HOUSE IS BLUE AND WHITE

AND THAT THE FENCE IS KIND OF GREY

BUT I DON’T RECOGNIZE THIS STREET

I DON’T RECOGNIZE THIS PLACE

BUT I CAN’T SEEM TO STOP MY FEET

IT’S LIKE I’M RUNNING IN A RACE

WHAT IF I NEVER FIND MY WAY?

WHAT IF I NEVER FIND MY WAY?

WHAT IF I NEVER FIND MY WAY?

WHAT IF I’VE RUINED THIS SHIRT?

WHAT IF THIS JUICE LEAVES A STAIN?

AND THE BANANA THAT I LOVE

WILL JUST REMIND ME OF THE PAIN

AND OF GETTING LOST AGAIN

I’M ALWAYS GETTING LOST AGAIN

I’M ALWAYS GETTING LOST AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN

AND I THOUGHT I SAW MY HOUSE

BUT IT DIDN’T HAVE THE BLUE

NORMAL PEOPLE KNOW THEIR HOUSE

THEY DON’T NEED A STUPID CLUE

WHAT IF I NEVER FIND MY WAY?

WHAT IF I NEVER FIND MY WAY ?

WHAT IF I NEVER FIND MY WAY?

WHAT IF I JUST TOOK IT OUT

LIKE A TUMOR IN MY BRAIN

WOULD I FINALLY MEASURE UP?

AND WOULD MY SHIRT STILL HAVE A STAIN?

AND WOULD MY MOTHER HAVE TO WAIT?

AND WOULD I ALWAYS KNOW THE WAY?

AND WOULD I STOP BEING LATE?

AND WOULD I KNOW WHAT TO SAY?

WHAT IF I JUST TOOK IT OUT

LIKE A TUMOUR IN MY HEAD

LIKE THE TUMOUR THAT IT IS

I’D HAVE A NORMAL BRAIN INSTEAD

WHAT IF I JUST TOOK IT OUT?

WHAT IF I JUST TOOK IT OUT?

WHAT IF I JUST TOOK IT OUT?

TAKE IT OUT

TAKE IT OUT

TAKE IT OUT

TAKE IT OUT

(PAUSE)

I am not good. I am not good.

I had a Great-Uncle, his name was Colby. He lived in a home – a home for people with mental illness. We would visit Colby once a month and take him out for pie and ice cream. For years I could never figure out what was wrong with Colby until I finally asked my Dad who told me that when Colby was in his late twenties, he had been lobotomized. No one knew what was wrong with him entirely but he had some emotional problems, which deepened after he fought in WW2. Obviously. So my great-grandparents arranged to have him lobotomized against his will. He was an artist, a very very good painter and I don’t know that he painted much after the lobotomy.

The last pie and ice cream we had with him before he died he finally talked about it. He said, “I didn’t want it but they cut it out of me. It hurt so much, they took it out of me and I didn’t want them to.”


SONG: COLBY’S REQUIEM

I HAD DARKNESS IN MY MIND IN MY BONES AND IN MY HEART.

AND THE DOCTOR SAID WE’D FIND IT IF WE TOOK MY HEAD APART

TAKE OUT THE PIECE THAT’S MESSY

REMOVE THE PART THAT’S SAD

WHO WOULD EVER MISS THE BIT THAT’S DIFFICULT AND BAD?

WE WANT IT GONE, GONE, GONE

LET’S MAKE IT GONE, GONE, GONE.

SO THEY OPENED UP MY HEAD AND THEY FOUND THE UGLY BIT

THE PART THE DOCTOR SAID HAD MADE IT HARD FOR ME TO FIT

HE HAD POKED AND HE HAD PRODDED.

HE SEARCHED MY HEAD ALL DAY

TILL HE FOUND WHAT HE WAS AFTER

AND HE TOOK THE PIECE AWAY

AND NOW IT’S GONE, GONE, GONE

GONE, GONE, GONE.

AND THE DARKNESS DISAPPEARED BECAUSE THE DOCTOR, HE WAS RIGHT

BUT IT SEEMS WITHOUT THE DARK THERE ALSO ISN’T ANY LIGHT

THE PART THAT WAS MESSY WAS A PART THAT MADE ME WHOLE

AND THE PART THAT WAS SAD WAS STILL A PART OF MY SOUL

AND NOW IT’S GONE GONE GONE

GONE GONE GONE

NOW I AM GONE GONE GONE

GONE GONE GONE.

(KATHERINE sighs and steps away from mic)


READ THIS STORY TO BECOME YOUNG AGAIN AND FREE

BRITTA: Um… Ok. I’m gonna read you all something that I think is amazing. You’ll probably think it’s amazing too. It’s called “The Tales of Edwin and Forswyth” by Katherine Cullen, age 9”

Page one: “As an introduction I will start to explain my two very good friends who are in this story. Their names are Edwin and Forswyth. Edwin is a gullible Koala and Forswyth is a stupid Rabbit who thinks he is smart. Along with them and their many other animal friends, we will go into a world much greater than ours. We will go deep into the enchanted forest and find out just what kind of animals they are. So do not read this story to become sophisticated, for this is not a sophisticated story. Read this story to become young again and free.”

SONG: EDWIN AND FORSWYTH – VOICE OF A GENERATION (DON’T GIVE UP!)

BRITTA: (as EDWIN) Hey psst.Katherine! It’s me, Edwin.

KATHERINE: Edwin?? 

BRITTA: Yes, Edwin, your rabbit friend!

KATHERINE: Edwin is the koala…

BRITTA: Ah, right…Your koala friend.

KATHERINE: What are you doing here? 

BRITTA: I’m here to tell you… Don’t give up.

WHEN YOU WERE A CHILD

IT WAS HARD FOR YOU TO BELONG

YOU THOUGHT THAT YOU WERE ALWAYS WRONG

YOU WERE FEELING LOW

BUT NOW YOU’VE GROWN

YOU’VE PROVED YOU’RE BRAVE AND YOU ARE STRONG

WE KNOW THE JOURNEY HAS BEEN LONG

BUT THERE’S MORE TO GO

HEY, LOOK AT ME, I’M A TORONTO KOALA

I’M NOT SUPPOSED TO SURVIVE THE COLD

BUT I DO

YOU GOTTA LIVE OUTSIDE YOUR COMFORT ZONE

EVEN WHEN YOU ARE FEELING ALL ALONE

YOU’VE GOT YOUR PEN AND YOUR IMAGINATION

AND THERE’S A FIRE INSIDE OF YOU

SO DON’T GIVE UP

‘CAUSE YOU GOT A STORY

YOU GOT A SONG IN YOUR DYSLEXIC HEART

AND YOU GOT A DREAM

DON’T GIVE UP

‘CAUSE YOU’RE GONNA MAKE IT

AND YOU HAVE AN ENTERPRISING KOALA ON YOUR TEAM

DON’T GIVE UP!

KATHERINE: (as FORSWYTH) Move over, Edwin. It’s my turn.

(as KATHERINE) Forswyth, you’re here too?

(as FORSWYTH) Of course I am, Katherine. I’ve always been (pointing at her heart) right here.

WE ALL FACE A TIME,

WHEN WE NEED TO GROW TO MOVE FORWARD

AND BY GROW, I MEAN EMOTIONALLY NOT PHYSICALLY.

DON’T YOU REALIZE,

DRAMATURGICALLY AT THIS POINT IN THE SHOW

IT MAKES SENSE YOU’RE FEELING LOW

BUT WE CAN HELP YOU GROW.

AS A RABBIT IT WAS HARD TO LEARN ENGLISH

BUT I DID IT TO SING THIS PART JUST FOR YOU.

JUST ‘CAUSE IT’S HARD DON’T MAKE IT WRONG

YOU STILL DESERVE TO SING YOUR SONG

YOU’VE GOT AN AUDIENCE OF PAYING PATRONS

AND THE ONLY WAY OUT IS THROUGH

SO DON’T GIVE UP

BRITTA: DON’T GIVE UP

KATHERINE: ‘CAUSE YOU GOT A STORY

BRITTA: YOU GOT A STORY

KATHERINE: YOU GOT A SONG IN YOUR DYSLEXIC HEART

AND YOU’VE GOT A DREAM

BRITTA: YOU GOT A DREAM

TOGETHER: DON’T GIVE UP

THOUGH THE FOREST IS DARK AT NIGHT

DON’T LET YOUR FEAR GET IN THE WAY OF THE FIGHT

YOU GOTTA RISK TO WIN

YOU GOTTA THICKEN YOUR SKIN

YOU GOTTA TRY

BRITTA 

(With KATH 

Improvising): SO DON’T GIVE UP

‘CAUSE YOU GOT A STORY

YOU GOT A SONG IN YOUR DYSLEXIC HEART

AND YOU GOT A DREAM

DON’T GIVE UP

YOU’RE GONNA MAKE IT

AND YOU HAVE AN ENTERPRISING KOALA ON YOUR TEAM

TOGETHER: WHEN YOU WERE A CHILD

IT WAS HARD FOR YOU TO BELONG

YOU THOUGHT THAT YOU WERE ALWAYS WRONG

 BUT STAY STRONG

DON’T GIVE UP


THE WIND

Despite Peter Dyakowski’s controversial poetry contest win back in ’93, it turns out he did not become a poet. The poem I wrote in grade three is called The Wind. It’s pretty short and doesn’t rhyme but I still remember it:

THE WIND

the wind blows in my face

it moves my hair

and when I go to the seashore and the sky begins to sunset it cools down

then late at night it stops

Suck on that Dyakowski.

(“When I was Young” intro)

SONG: FINALE

KATHERINE: SO I GUESS YOU’RE STILL AROUND AND IT’S THE END OF THE SHOW

BOTH: HOO HOO

KATHERINE: MAYBE YOU ENJOYED IT OR MAYBE YOU HAD NOWHERE TO GO

BOTH: HOO HOO

KATHERINE: OR MAYBE YOU KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE

TO STRUGGLE WITH MATH

TO TAKE THE WRONG PATH

TO PEE ON THE FLOOR

MAYBE NOT THAT EXACTLY BUT AT LEAST YOU GET THE METAPHOR

I THOUGHT THAT YOU WOULD WANT A SHOW THAT WAS ABOUT SUCCESS

BOTH: HOO HOO

KATHERINE: SO I TRIED TO WRITE AN ENDING THAT WOULD SAY I’VE MADE IT THROUGH THE MESS

BOTH: HOO HOO

KATHERINE: THE TRUTH IS I DON’T WANT TO TELL YOU

THAT I FIGURED IT OUT

THAT I KNOW ALL ABOUT

ALL THE RULES TO THE GAME

BUT I HAD TO SING YOU SOMETHING SO YOU LEFT HERE FEELING GLAD YOU CAME.

AND THE ANSWER CHANGES BUT THE QUESTION ALWAYS STAYS THE SAME.

WHAT IF I NEVER FIND MY WAY?

WHAT IF I NEVER FIND MY WAY?

WHAT IF I NEVER FIND MY WAY?

I’LL LIVE TO SEE ANOTHER DAY

WHAT IF I NEVER FIND MY WAY?

WHAT IF I NEVER FIND MY WAY?

AND IF WE NEVER FIND THE WAY

WE’LL LIVE TO SEE ANOTHER DAY

(Britta plays Jesus Christ Superstar x4; KATHERINE thanks our listeners!)

We have reached the end of our show and I would like to say a huge thank you to Britta Johnson for her amazing songs and music, our stage manager Meghan Speakman, out audio engineer Adam Sakiyama, our director Aaron Willis, our designers Anahita Dehbonehie and Jennifer Lennon, our Associate Producer Colin Doyle, and everyone at Outside the March.  Thank you all for listening!

KATHERINE: WHAT IF I NEVER FIND MY WAY

BRITTA: DON’T GIVE UP

KATHERINE: WHAT IF I NEVER FIND MY WAY

BRITTA: ‘CAUSE YOU GOT A STORY

KATHERINE: WHAT IF I NEVER FIND MY WAY

BRITTA: DON’T GIVE UP

KATHERINE: I’LL LIVE TO SEE ANOTHER DAY

BRITTA: ‘CAUSE YOU GOT A STORY

KATHERINE: WHAT IF I NEVER FIND MY WAY

BOTH: DON’T GIVE UP!

END