Farewell Troy!

That's right. Troy is dead and buried. Or, to quote my line precisely, "THE WAR IS OVER! Go down, bring back the Idol's enchanted wood to the Maiden of Ilium, Zeus' Daughter!"

Try saying THAT line with a straight face!? Go on, I dare you! Now try saying it 200 times with a straight face and did I mention that Claire, your fellow chorus woman, is repeating "Zeus's Daughter" every time you say it? Eh? Scared yet??

That is what we Greek Chorus Trojan ladies do - repeat, echo and talk all over each other. But not in some mad jumble-style free for all - nope, we gotta be precise like, see? Took lessons from Queen Latifa and everything.

After fellow Chorus lady Alex's boyfriend saw the show he drove her crazy by repeating everything she said. That is a good way to drive someone insane. Arty or no. I wonder if Euripides could be called the granddad of free styling?

What the hell was I blabbing about? Right, THE WAR IS OVER and The Trojan Women at Champlain College is, much like Troy, no more. After three months of rehearsals (three nights a week baby!) and 6 shows - well, we were all ready for Troy to end, but it is with sadness and much regret that we all say good-bye to one another. Sniffle.

As a member of the chorus, I became quite accustomed to clinging, clutching and cowering with my fellow chorus ladies. Comforting Hecuba, patting Andromache on the back, hugging Claire tight, grasping Joyce's hand and engulfing Alex (she is tiny!). Lordy, I have never been so clingy in my life! It felt good!

And I will miss being grabbed roughly and led off to slavery by Spencer, my very own Greek soldier, and thrown around and scared all over the stage by Frank and Austin. Good times! I will miss adjusting my head gear oh so gingerly so as to not draw attention to myself. Or blowing my nose secretly into my burkha or massive sack sleeve when turned away in horror. Or the small talk we always engaged in when Menelaus hit the stage. Eg: "Oh my god, why is he wearing a tie dyed sheet?" "He's shorter than I expected..."

Seriously though, it was a great experience. Every single night I was in a secret terror that my lines would magically fall out of my head and I would stand there with a blank look on my face and be forced to say, "Line."

Ooof, luckily, that didn't happen (probably because I said my lines so many times over and over again in my head that they will be etched there for all eternity - who am I kidding, I already forgot 'em!).

But it was actually kinda fun being the on-stage furniture for the entire show (the chorus ladies never leave the stage - we back up Queen Hecuba, oh yeah). You getta see all the action up close and personal. See Hecuba spitting in Helen's face while chastising the slut (and did I mention the glorious boobies?!). See Austin's perky nipples and Spencer's gruesome stare. See Cassandra shake her rump and watch Andromache break my heart, night after night.

Saturday night was our last show and after breaking down the set (a pile of rubble, some burnt sheets) and the lights, we headed to Joyce's for the cast party. Sitting around the table with my fellow Trojans and Greeks, I finally got that amazing sensation that real actors must get at the end of a show. The thrill of a job well done and the pleasure of meeting and bonding with an odd assortment of people in a way that you never would in the confines of normal life.

There is no way I would ever hear Champlain student Rob say something like this, "Dragging Helen onto the stage is probably the only time I will ever be that close to a beautiful woman in my life," or Swa's rejoinder, "Dude, you gotta get some self-confidence. There are a lotta drunk women out there." BA DUM DUM! These Greek soldiers (AKA Champlain students) can crack a girl up!

The other topics of the evening: politics, boobs, vegetarianism, hippies, veganism, Europe, boobs, booze. And listening to the random string of topics that fall out of Austin's mouth is pleasure in and of itself. One second it is, "I once saw a man wearing no pants," and the next moment it is, "I never ate an artichoke before." Combined with his accent (Jersey?), Austin speaks pure poetry. It is unfortunate that he never gets one line throughout the entire show (none of the soldiers do).

I am still bummed that we never turned the show into a musical as we said we would. We got so giggly toward the end that it seemed more than likely that one of us would accidentally sing our lines. Or say them with a British or Irish accent. Those pre-show, musical warm ups made me giddy. Man, we were slap happy.

I am also bummed we never attacked the Greek soldiers at the end all La Femme Nikita-style. I thought it would be so cool if, as we were being dragged off, we suddenly went mad and started beating the hell outta them. Honestly, I think we could have taken them. The element of surprise would have made the moment priceless.

When Kelly sent me an email saying I should be in this play, I never ever knew it would turn into such an oddly rich experience. Sure, the play was too depressing for most people. But I am glad I got to wallow in the misery for three months, and I am counting my lucky stars that my life is such that I can step out of the misery and enjoy Spring in Vermont. Sadly, there are many people in the world right now who do not have that luxury. And for 3 months, I could almost sort of, just a little bit, understand where they were coming from.

And now I leave you with some of my favorite lines:

"Oh that as Menelaus' ship makes way through the mid-sea, the bright-pronged spear immortal of thunder might SMASH IT!"

"You will collapse to the dear ground and be nameless."

"Lost shall be the name on the land, all gone, perished, Troy, city of sorrow, is there no longer."

Bye Bye Troy...it was swell!