Welcome to College. (a Farewell)

So just the other day, something incredulous happened. I graduated from college. We were all surprised. I certainly was. But anyways, the finality of the entire experience was really kicking my psyche around for a while before I shook the funk off. Now, free, as a bird, I reflect. I look back on the last play I worked on, assistant directing Last Easter, and drawing lines between it and my first theatrical experience at USM, realize I should probably record this tale. My first Awakening moments as a undergraduate theatre major:

My first cast party.

Through happenstance circumstances the first few weeks of living in my lovely residence hall, I was stopped by a pretty girl asking me if I was auditioning for the second play of the year. My 18 year old Self was not me today, and easily dodged this opportunity with nervous fear and shyness. She persisted, but even then, the feminine wiles of pretty girls could not break me from my angsty fortress. What it took was an older, more masculine and authoritative and physically larger theatre major to pass by at the same time. She asked the same question to him, and he said ofcourse. She told him to bring me playfully and he was like "What? You're not? Are you a freshmen?" I said yes, and that was all he needed "Come on, Travis. We're going." And with that I found myself surrounded by eccentric loud artistic dramatic students in a too-well-lit dance room. The audition. Wesley Cianchette, I can never thank you enough for your peer pressure.

The play was a Greek classic. Lysistrata, by Aristophanes. It was a student director, hereby referred to as Allie. I did not read very well, and was outclassed by all the actors and actresses who had prepared so very well for this audition. This was one of the first few times I saw Dr. Malkav and the Reverend at work, as well as a young NFC. I felt defeated by the end of it, auditions will never be a strong point for me, but I recalled something Allie had said about wanting musicians as well and felt inclined to offer up my skills. So I approached her after it was over outside and told her I could play guitar and very limited hand drums and she seemed enthused and told me she'd be in touch.

It wasn't long before the cast list went up. A nice girl codenamed Junebug I had befriended a bit in a class almost knocked me over she was so excited. "We're cast together!! Aren't you excited??!!" she exclaimed. I replied with a very confused eyebrow furrow, unable to believe the truth of the situation. I was cast. In a mainstage show my freshmen year. On the mainstage. Freshmen. Baffled.

So no guitar playing for me, I was Male Slave. A bit role with two lines but some stage time and comedic moments. I won't go into the run of the show too much, that can be it's own thing someday in the future. Let's just stick with: I had to dance, pull the Female Slave offstage intimately, and the whole time wear a phallus made of coiled rope that hung eight inches down. All the other male characters had phalli of other materials that stood up straight and tall, the largest honored to NFC at a whopping 18 inches complete with light-up blue balls. (read a synopsis of Lysistrata here for a decent explanation why we were phallused.)

It was a fun show, to say the least. A wonderful footstep into USM's theater department.

Anyways, the party.

One of the cast members, a nontraditional student who lived off-campus (clutch), hosted the party. The directions were written on the chalkboard in the dressing room and everbody, cast, crew, and basically everyone in the department, was buzzing about the party. I was still a youngun' and shy was wasn't sure exactly what my plan of action was until the guitarist Allie ended up hiring came up to me, some music major, I'm calling him Thom for now, and asked me if I needed a lift.

"Sure, I need a ride."

"Do you need beer?"

"Are you 21?"

"Yes."

"Sure, I need beer."

A short car ride, some forced awkward smalltalk, a sixer of Guinness and a sixer of Magic Hat later, and we had arrived at the location of the party. But the party had beaten us over there. There were rooms filled with people, alcohol sitting out on nearly every counter surface, hors d'oeuvres, snacks and treats piled in penis shaped party bowls, a backroom for cannabis partakers, a huge cooler outside on the porch sprouting beer bottles of ice like flowers, and out back, a bonfire.

I first found NFC, my closest freshmen friend, and we remarked at how many people had showed and how cool it was to be at our first cast party and so on. Our boss in the Scene Shop, hereby referred to as Meat Loaf, walked up to us, drinking a beer. This was the first shocker. A faculty member. A beer. Off campus. Totally legal and legitimate. Wow. I'd heard he supplied the bonfire and asked what it was that was burning and he just said "The Laramie set" and burst out with a cackling laughter we couldn't help but joining. The Laramie Project was the first play of the season, about the murder of Matthew Shepard, a homosexual boy in Laramie, Wyoming. He had been abducted, beaten, humiliated and left for dead tied to a fence by two schoolmates of his. This fence was part of the set of the play, I'd helped build it in the shop, and was now burning brilliantly in the fire. I know. Yikes.

Allie's mother was the guest of honor, and by Allie's side the entire night. It's at this point I should mention Allie was approximately 22, a gorgeous brunette who made it very clear how sexual the play was and as a director kept a playful friendly relationship with the cast while also being in charge and maintaining order. So. We, the dudes of the cast, conspire to publicly embarrass her, and do our best to accrue as many folks as possible around the bonfire for a "toast." A good man who needs no codename named Anthony Texiera calls for all our attention, raises his drink and speaks beautiful praise to Allie and her directing and making this great time for us all, and then he declared in her honor the men of the party raise their glasses, and their asses. So we all drop trou'. And there's like a twenty dude Full Mooning of Allie. Mission successful, Allie's mother later remarked "why couldn't we see their fronts?"

So I've got some drinks in me now. No more quiet-hide-behing-emo-hair Travis, I'm moving and meeting and greeting and yucking it up. The Reverend, who I should mention played the crossdressed lead role of Lysistrata, finds me and asks me if I'd like some whiskey. Why ofcourse! He pours me some and I top it off with some Barq's Root Beer, which he dismays at. I ask him why he likes it raw, to which he replies "Because I like to know it's poison." Solid answer.

NFC and I surreptitiously slip into the back room where we here oh so much laughter and giggling. Boom. A haze everywhere, squinty eyes and sidesplitting chortling. Right off the bat, I'm standing next to a To Be Unnamed faculty member, who passes me the joint. I'm a young buck at this party, but with the 'juana, I'm no novice, so I toke, toke and pass it right along, feeling welcome and mature and accepted by all. I later brag about this exchange of contraband between off-duty professor and student for years onward.

In the kitchen, Rev has commandeered the music selection and throws on the Violent Femmes, to which we rock extensively to the delight of the more sober freshmen who think drunk men dancing like fools is entertaining for the first time. I sniff out some Grey Goose vodka, and recalling a classic strip from my favorite webcomic Achewood, I mix some with orange juice. The vanilla...it tastes just like an orange creamsicle icecream pop from the Shaner's truck. Delectable. So I'm getting a bit topsy turvy now.

Then another cast member, let's call him Cuervo for reasons to be explained in this same sentence, breaks out some tequila and announced body shots are to be done here and now in the kitchen. This is apparently his "Thing." He asks for volunteers...and no one says anything. The larger part of the kitchen crowd are freshmen much like myself and are frightened at this new concept and idea. I, having my Blood Courage Content level pushing right past 0.8, step up to the plate. And I declare I've never done a shot of tequila before. Cuervo's eyes light up like jack'o'lanterns. He scans the audience for the subject material of this little educational lesson...and finds her.

It's Allie. My director. And she boldly steps up to help show me how this is done. The kitchen is suddenly crowded to the maximum capacity of people ready to see this freshmen do a body shot off Allie. Allie's mother promptly steps out for a cigarette. I'm embarrassed, Allie's embarrassed, but we're both ready. Cuervo explains the premise here and the motions to go through. First, I lick her neck, then apply salt. She puts a slice of lime in her mouth. My goal here becomes clear: I must lick the salt, take the shot, and suck on the lime. Staggering.

So a little countdown is initiated by Cuervo, probably to pump me up for this deal. I lick, I shoot down the José, and go for the lime. And she puts up a fight, much to the delight of the audience. She eventually gives, and I've got the lime, so I remove it from my mouth, my eyes watering from the golden fire coursing down into my core, and before I can even make a sour face from the limejuice running down my chin, Allie grabs my jaw and starts making out with me.

The crowd goes wild. Welcome to college, Travis H. Curran. You're Superman.

A few more body shots are taken off some other ladies, one of the volunteers being Allie's ex-boyfriend. I'm totally oblivious to this until much later when he guest-teaches a stage combat lesson in my acting class and asks to demonstrate on me. Dicey business, but no real harm or foul done. I take two more body shots off some chicks but with no follow through like Allie's. No big deal.

I step out for some fresh holy shit I'm trashed air, and realize quickly, holy shit I'm trashed. Tequila, whiskey, and vodka sitting in jacuzzi of dark beer in my tummy. Helloooo. Did you bring your party pants?

I stumble out into the woods and lean over for a long time asking a snowbank a very serious question about my activities this evening. The snowbank tells me to man up and get back to the party. I agree with the snowbank. My stomach deals.

I'm welcomed into the kitchen by a great meeting of the minds, Malkav, Rev, and some other older faces. Despite he only being a half a year my elder in the department, the Reverend takes me by my shoulders as a prodigal son and declares his sermon before the meeting of the minds.

"Travis, you entering a great world, following in the footsteps of myself and Dr. Malkavian. You will find that comedy is more human than drama."

he then went on about my comic mask and having a face for it or something or other, I was simply nonplussed by the comparison between the great minds, and later to become my greatest friends and peers as time went on. His words stuck with me though, and it still weighs heavily whenever I write or create artistically.

The party went on. I got higher. Thom puked, and a lovely responsible sober lady drove in a designated fashion a couple of shuttles of folks back to campus, myself included. She wouldn't even let me in her car till I'd drank two glasses of water. And the next day, there was no hangover to be found. Whiskey, tequila, and vodka all played nice and got along within me and helped turn this frail meager boy into a tougher, rougher, more mature man.

The first college party. In the bag, under the belt, to be remembered with delight and cheer forever. And now, with college as a whole also done and done... probably one of the better times I'll look back on.

Good day.