Productive, and yet not. That was my day. The meetings today were as follows: Meeting with the New Playwrights Studio member Fiona. Meeting of the Administration. Reception of the Principal John Wallace. Meeting with the recently graduated cohort of the MACCT (Masters of Arts-Classical and Contemporary Text. AKA our programme).
In the first (meeting with new playwrights) we received a whole mind boggling history of Scottish theatre and then were give three plays. One from each of our playwrights that will eventually be writing us a commissioned play that we will tour next aug/sept in Glasgow, London, and Edinburgh. It was two hours of us sitting in uncomfortable wooden chairs getting splinters in our ass and sweating from the mugginess in the room. But I got more than enough information from it. And I began reading one of the plays by Oliver Emanuel. SO. GOOD. The writing itself is bright, edgy, and quick. He doesn't spout useless prose but gets right down to the nitty gritty. Very excited about him. Will read the other two tonight.
The next meeting was...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. I'm sorry, I just fell asleep thinking about it. I have to say that the organization and focus of the administration is seriously lacking. To the extent that I become bitter thinking about all the things I could be doing that would be more productive. Like clipping my toe nails. Tying my shoes. Or seeing how many times I can twirl counterclockwise before I fall or get sick. All these things are infinitely more interesting and informative. But alas. I hear this is something I must get used to. In the words of Jane Austen "a quick succession of busy nothings."
Following that, we had a three hour break. We were supposed to have another programme meeting where all of us would recite one of our monologues but was cancelled due to our dept head having another meeting. I'm not going to lie, I was a bit disappointed. I had hoped to see not only what the others could do but also to see what I, myself, would put out there. So instead, I went to finally buy a phone. Yeah, I've been lazy and had put it off. But now I have one. whoopee. Can't say I've really missed it all that much. Because really...who would I call? And then I went to the bank.
Oh, the bank. Can't say I enjoyed that all too much either. I get in one line and am told to go in another. I get in that line and they give me a form. They say you must mail in said form (even though it is a five minute walk from my housing), then they send you back a different form with a number, then you bring said number back to the bank and they set up the account. ...what? THEN, once you set up the account, it takes two weeks MINIMUM to get your debit card...IN THE MAIL!! AHHHHHHHHHH!
My apologies. Had to scream. Am done now.
So in summation, Europe has not quite caught up to the times. They have lovely and beautiful things and ways here but their banking...well. No. Not one of those things.
So afterward I plopped myself in a practice room and played piano and sang for a couple of hours with an out of tune piano. Oh Paul D Mills. Your little heart would cry with agony with the sound of that piano. It certainly was no Bosendorfer, that's for damn sure.
The reception with the Principal promised to be informative and have booze. It had neither. So about half of us went to the Walkabout. It's a sports bar about a block away. Did you know that you can get student discounts on Pints of beer? Me neither. But you can. And I did. Yup. 430pm, in between seminars, and we're standing around getting to know each other while drinking. Now, I hesitate about giving too much description of my fellow cohorts, only because I now realize that some of them read this blog. In one of the seminars today, one of them turned to me and said, "So I read about the fire alarm." Yeah.
But then again, I'm writing this not only to keep in touch with y'all, but also to keep me honest, and to really document all the happenings that are going on during this year. And these people will be a huge part of that. So I may change their names, I may not. But I will keep them in here because it would be pretty empty without it.
Anyway, we went to our last seminar with the cohort from last year and then to drinks at a little hidden hole in the wall bar called the "Flying Duck" (p.s. Thank you Michael-Alan for the drink!). And it was...enlightening in some ways. But also frustrating in others. Not all the graduates were very useful in giving tips. And overall I got the impression that "You will be on your own a lot. You will get very frustrated. You may not get work afterwards. You will have to drive yourself." Wait. What? What do you mean? I don't want to do anything for myself. I hate ambiguity. I'm LAZY!
No, but really. This free-ness is ok to a point but I do better with structure. As I said before, this school will either make me better, or kill me.
But I will say that I left with a few ideas for my research project, a couple of possible leads for where to look for my placement, and who to ask for mentorship. Despite what some of you may think, I'm NOT a go getter. I don't want to take the difficult road and tend to only take it because I've been backed into a corner. My corner just happens to be different than most. My version of a corner is being trapped in a dead end job with no inspiration or space for advancement where your only peace in life is waiting for the next two week vacation that you get every other year. If I just described you, I'm very very sorry. I don't mean offense. I just mean that the very thought of that would be the end of me. I'm not sure if all people find satisfaction in their life. I hope so. But whatever brings that satisfaction is different for all people. And I may not know exactly what mine is, but the only thing that has ever come close, is theatre and film. So if you ever ask yourselves "why the hell does Stacy put herself through this when all she does is bitch and moan?" The answer is: because the very thought of doing something else...is unbearable. Because it would be like screaming silently from the inside. Because the fear of monotony and mediocrity is bigger than the fear of the challenge and of being alone.
Walking home this evening, the tune playing on Glaswegian Radio (which is what I will now call whatever I hear from the street musicians on the walk home) was "Memory" from the musical Cats...on the mandolin. Now I'm going to attempt to sleep after some yoga and reading of the three plays. Oh discipline. Where art thou?
On that, I will end with a shout out to my mother who apparently wakes up to read this blog with her morning coffee. Hi, momma. I miss you.
xoxo
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Fire? oh. no. That's just me.
Today's schedule included a tour of the IT department and Library, as well as the studios off campus and a meeting with the Dean of Drama and Dance.
I walk to school along Buchanan Street. I would think it's their version of the Upper East Side with all their shops and old buildings. They have street musicians that play all over. One blending into another. There's a girl with dreads playing the acoustic guitar, singing Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah. Then the old gypsy women with three teeth, smiling and playing the accordian. Constant sound that echoes through the alley ways.
I get to school and wind my way around searching for the Tech Lab. The place is a friggin' Labyrinth. I half expect David Bowie and the muppets to pop out and sing "chilly down" to me. I make a pitstop to one of the hidden bathrooms that I see along the way. And here, friends, is where the trouble begins. Unknowingly, I was in the handicapped bathroom. I didn't pay attention to the postings, and as I was leaving I pulled on a cord that was hanging by the ceiling. Apparently, this is an alarm that can be set off if a disabled person gets in trouble. Yeah. I walked out of the bathroom wondering why on earth we were having a fire drill and how annoying that alarm that was sounding throughout the building was. It wasn't until later that I realized...it was me. Yup. To any of my RCSers who might be reading this...oops. My bad. The alarm turned off after five minutes, luckily. And they didn't even evacuate the whole building. But seriously. FML, people.
The Library itself was ok. Everyone seemed extremely impressed. I just kept thinking how spoiled I had been at AMDA and tried not to mention to the bragging librarian that I had more music on my flash drive than he did in his entire collection.
After the library (now this is irony, friends) we went to the other studio off campus for, now wait for it, fire safety and proper drill protocol. Thanks. Probably could have used that this morning.
I had also begun to get a head start on my textbook reading. The assignment is Stanislavsky's "An Actor's Work". Or as Phil from Cornwall in my cohort calls him "Stan the Man". As I read, I began to feel a calmness settling in. I knew I would feel better once work started, but mostly it was what the man was saying. He wrote about all his troubles, worries, and failures. This is the father of technique, people, and it was like he was taking the words right out of my mouth. A blanket of comfort was thrown on me and I thought, "Holy Sh*t. It really IS going to be ok." Huh.
As I left the building, I could hear the Musical Theatre students singing their pieces. One girl was singing "I will be loved tonight" from I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change. And it was a flash back to my first semester at AMDA when Jennifer Gottlieb (who's now being fabulous on VH1) had to sing it. (p.s. Jenni, she ain't got nuthin' on you!) And it made my heart hurt a little. I miss singing a bit. Never thought I would. And I especially miss my A1's of 2006. But I'm good here.
I ended my night with more reading and then procrastinating in the kitchen while MC attempted a new kitchen wonder. Still highly amusing. Can't wait to see him attempt ironing.
And now I'll fall asleep with my window open, listening to violins being practiced in flats below me.
I walk to school along Buchanan Street. I would think it's their version of the Upper East Side with all their shops and old buildings. They have street musicians that play all over. One blending into another. There's a girl with dreads playing the acoustic guitar, singing Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah. Then the old gypsy women with three teeth, smiling and playing the accordian. Constant sound that echoes through the alley ways.
I get to school and wind my way around searching for the Tech Lab. The place is a friggin' Labyrinth. I half expect David Bowie and the muppets to pop out and sing "chilly down" to me. I make a pitstop to one of the hidden bathrooms that I see along the way. And here, friends, is where the trouble begins. Unknowingly, I was in the handicapped bathroom. I didn't pay attention to the postings, and as I was leaving I pulled on a cord that was hanging by the ceiling. Apparently, this is an alarm that can be set off if a disabled person gets in trouble. Yeah. I walked out of the bathroom wondering why on earth we were having a fire drill and how annoying that alarm that was sounding throughout the building was. It wasn't until later that I realized...it was me. Yup. To any of my RCSers who might be reading this...oops. My bad. The alarm turned off after five minutes, luckily. And they didn't even evacuate the whole building. But seriously. FML, people.
The Library itself was ok. Everyone seemed extremely impressed. I just kept thinking how spoiled I had been at AMDA and tried not to mention to the bragging librarian that I had more music on my flash drive than he did in his entire collection.
After the library (now this is irony, friends) we went to the other studio off campus for, now wait for it, fire safety and proper drill protocol. Thanks. Probably could have used that this morning.
I had also begun to get a head start on my textbook reading. The assignment is Stanislavsky's "An Actor's Work". Or as Phil from Cornwall in my cohort calls him "Stan the Man". As I read, I began to feel a calmness settling in. I knew I would feel better once work started, but mostly it was what the man was saying. He wrote about all his troubles, worries, and failures. This is the father of technique, people, and it was like he was taking the words right out of my mouth. A blanket of comfort was thrown on me and I thought, "Holy Sh*t. It really IS going to be ok." Huh.
As I left the building, I could hear the Musical Theatre students singing their pieces. One girl was singing "I will be loved tonight" from I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change. And it was a flash back to my first semester at AMDA when Jennifer Gottlieb (who's now being fabulous on VH1) had to sing it. (p.s. Jenni, she ain't got nuthin' on you!) And it made my heart hurt a little. I miss singing a bit. Never thought I would. And I especially miss my A1's of 2006. But I'm good here.
I ended my night with more reading and then procrastinating in the kitchen while MC attempted a new kitchen wonder. Still highly amusing. Can't wait to see him attempt ironing.
And now I'll fall asleep with my window open, listening to violins being practiced in flats below me.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Did you hear that? that's the sound of my mind being blown.
So my birthday was yesterday. And yes, it was a good one. Thank you to all that sent a note/message/etc. I felt very loved from so far away. I woke up at 10 or so and lounged around doing nothing. My favorite activity. My first and only meeting of the day was at 4pm and was a thing called matriculation. Apparently it's the UK equivalent of registration. As any of my AMDA people that worked orientation with me know, I was expecting absolute organization that would make Lizz Furtado proud. However, this was not the case. I'd put it on par with herding disgruntled and lost cattle into random small places, chucking a piece of grass at them, and wishing them the best of luck.
Thank God I arrived fifteen minutes early and avoided the rush but I had to wait two hours for the rest of my group to go through. I will say I'm pretty excited for free health care though. Canada and the UK really have this stuff figured out.
Afterwards, ten of my new cohort (people in my class) took me out for a drink. It was really sweet. A Brit named Maria brought out a tray of mallowmars lit with candles and they sang happy birthday to me. Michael-Alan bought a round of appetizers. And Riley bought my beer.
Then I took myself to a movie. There's just something about going to the movies, that no matter where you are, you feel like you're home. I know what you're thinking, how sad, she went to the movies by herself. But you know what? It might be one of my most favorite things to do. You don't have to worry whether everyone's having a good time, share your soda, or try to shut them up when they try to talk to you during the previews. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE going with people (especially my mother) but sometimes, you can really only fully escape in a film when you are by yourself. And the theatre they have is a doozy. 6 floors. First floor is a bar. Yeah. A BAR! The fact that the Scottish drink is an understatement. It should be on their national flag. The normal establishments here may close down early, but that is only because they have to open the bars.
I didn't partake in the bar this time but used my new fancy student ID to get the discounted price of admission. In case you're wondering, movies with ID are 5.70 pounds. (equiv is around 8.50). I saw the movie Drive. In case you are hankering to go, I do recommend it but with a disclaimer. The violence in it is sometimes at par with Tarantino. Consider yourself warned.
Today was our first day of seminars. Basically one welcome speech after another. But then there was the three hour meeting with our two dept heads and our full cohort. Here's the breakdown. We have 12, count them TWELVE!, Americans, 3 Scots, 1 Russian/Scot, 1 Canadian, 1 Canadian/Brit, 1 Irish, and 3 Brits. There was one other girl but she went missing so I don't know where she's from. But the total is 23 people. 10 girl actors, 10 guys, 1 guy director, and 2 girl directors.
Some highlights from the meeting (if you aren't a theatre person and are reading this, you may want to skip down to a later paragraph).
*We rehearse/have workshops/classes 9-6 M-F. With some evening and Saturday classes. But the building closes by 9pm each night so rehearsals are going to be ridiculous.
* We study Stanislavsky and Le Coq techniques, as well as heavy on the Nadine George for V&S.
* We have to find a 1-2 week placement for ourselves where we shadow a theatre company, venue, or professional.
*We have to find a "mentor" to be in contact with from the professional community.
* We have large research papers due at the end of each of the four terms.
*We do a playdate with the MA Musical Theatre students (I wish we took the same workshops because they get to work with John Barrowman this year. Ugh, I would just die!)
* We spend the month of January in London at the Globe theatre and are taught by the members there.
* After Easter we put on two shows (half of us in one, half in the other) for which we have to audition. The shows are Shakespeare's Measure for Measure. and The Duchess of Malfi by John Webster.
* We have the opportunity to put up a new and unique piece of our own in conjunction with our research projects.
* We do select scenes from Chekhov's The Cherry Orchard as our Realism project and then perform them for faculty and students.
*We combine a choral grecian piece with a contemporary piece and perform that for faculty and students.
*We have well established Scottish playwrights come in and write a play for us after watching us act excerpts from their already established plays. We then tour those plays to London, Edinburgh, and around Glasgow.
*We keep a daily Practicum (all the AMDA students may now groan for me).
*And we go to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival next august/september for more seminars, workshops, and to see shows.
...is your mind blown yet? because mine is. We all walked out of that room feeling excited and overwhelmed. I did ask whether or not we had to learn a standard accent. As some of you know, at AMDA in NY, all foreign students had to learn an American Standard accent. Here, they believe that your accent is attached to who you are. While it is a good idea to learn the standard "RP" british accent, they said that as long as your accent does not hinder the forming of whatever character you are playing, than our natural speech is good enough.
At the end we went around and said how we were feeling about the whole thing. I said that I was very excited but also a bit petrified. That all those buttons that make me feel uncomfortable but need to be pushed will be here. That I was happy to be in a safe place so that I can fail big. And that now I needed to go back to my room and marinate in all this.
I think, but I'm not sure, that both professors were reading absolute fear on my face. It's true, I'm sure it was there. But I hope they realize I'm not going anywhere. Yes, I hate the fact that I'm going to be really really bad at some of this stuff. Like abysmally. Physical comedy freaks me out. Clowning is uncomfortable for me. Improvisation gives me hives! I hate being wrong. And it's exhausting convincing myself that THERE IS NO WRONG CHOICE...only better ones. I'd say almost every single person in that room though is someone that I may be ok making a complete ass out of myself. And that's good, because I will.
I just don't want to hear "You'd be great, Stacy, if you'd just let go." or "Stacy, you are too reserved and safe." or "Stacy you don't really fit anywhere." I'm tired of it. So I'm doing some yoga tonight to decompress and then as Faith says "Let go, and Let God."
This sounds like the most painful, exhausting, and AWESOME program. I will be a better actor for it. And I will be a stronger person. Period.
So after that mental explosion, I went home to fix some form of dinner after I hit the Pound Store. It's the dollar store of UK. And it's Brilliant. Almost everything you can imagine that you need for only a pound. I finally got some coffee cups and a bowl. Ok, yes the bowl has cartoon superhero figures on it. and the coffee cup is something that would fit in a Precious Moments collection. But they work. And that's about as high as my expectations go.
Now here's the best part of my day. I go to the kitchen to make some pasta and find that I dont know how to turn the mother f*&^ing stove on. First there's a switch on the wall that you flip to turn on the gas. Then there's the gas dial that apparently you have to turn on as well as flick the ignite button. I'm thinking, oh shit, I'm going to burn this place down. But then in comes Michael the Composer (who by the way scared the bejeebus out of me while I was scowling at the stove). Now, from now on I'll call him MC for short. MC was sweet enough to slip a birthday card under my door early that morning, so I accept my embarrassment and ask how to turn on the stove. Funnily enough, MC is NOT a cooker. He said his mum gave him a crash course in cooking before he arrived here and he was just planning on attempting pasta himself. In the end, he figured out how to light the stove, and I taught him how to use the can opener (UK translation= tin opener) as well as explaining that the pasta has to boil. Not just sit in hot water. It was very entertaining. In the conversation whilst we were attempting culinary gloriousness, it came up that I saw Daniel Radcliffe (Harry Potter) on Broadway in both the musical "How to Succeed in Business..." and in the play "Equus." Now, for those who don't know Equus, that is the play in which the character is butt naked running around the stage stabbing out the eyes of horses in stables. Yeah...it's a picker upper.
Anyway, MC asks in his posh accent "Now, may I ask you a question?"
Me: Of Course. (thinking it will be whether or not Daniel was a good actor)
MC (after a dramatic pause): Does he have a two inch twitter?
UK Translation= does he have a small...well, you know.
I don't think I've laughed harder all summer.
I think that's a good note to end on. :)
I'm thinking of you.
Thank God I arrived fifteen minutes early and avoided the rush but I had to wait two hours for the rest of my group to go through. I will say I'm pretty excited for free health care though. Canada and the UK really have this stuff figured out.
Afterwards, ten of my new cohort (people in my class) took me out for a drink. It was really sweet. A Brit named Maria brought out a tray of mallowmars lit with candles and they sang happy birthday to me. Michael-Alan bought a round of appetizers. And Riley bought my beer.
Then I took myself to a movie. There's just something about going to the movies, that no matter where you are, you feel like you're home. I know what you're thinking, how sad, she went to the movies by herself. But you know what? It might be one of my most favorite things to do. You don't have to worry whether everyone's having a good time, share your soda, or try to shut them up when they try to talk to you during the previews. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE going with people (especially my mother) but sometimes, you can really only fully escape in a film when you are by yourself. And the theatre they have is a doozy. 6 floors. First floor is a bar. Yeah. A BAR! The fact that the Scottish drink is an understatement. It should be on their national flag. The normal establishments here may close down early, but that is only because they have to open the bars.
I didn't partake in the bar this time but used my new fancy student ID to get the discounted price of admission. In case you're wondering, movies with ID are 5.70 pounds. (equiv is around 8.50). I saw the movie Drive. In case you are hankering to go, I do recommend it but with a disclaimer. The violence in it is sometimes at par with Tarantino. Consider yourself warned.
Today was our first day of seminars. Basically one welcome speech after another. But then there was the three hour meeting with our two dept heads and our full cohort. Here's the breakdown. We have 12, count them TWELVE!, Americans, 3 Scots, 1 Russian/Scot, 1 Canadian, 1 Canadian/Brit, 1 Irish, and 3 Brits. There was one other girl but she went missing so I don't know where she's from. But the total is 23 people. 10 girl actors, 10 guys, 1 guy director, and 2 girl directors.
Some highlights from the meeting (if you aren't a theatre person and are reading this, you may want to skip down to a later paragraph).
*We rehearse/have workshops/classes 9-6 M-F. With some evening and Saturday classes. But the building closes by 9pm each night so rehearsals are going to be ridiculous.
* We study Stanislavsky and Le Coq techniques, as well as heavy on the Nadine George for V&S.
* We have to find a 1-2 week placement for ourselves where we shadow a theatre company, venue, or professional.
*We have to find a "mentor" to be in contact with from the professional community.
* We have large research papers due at the end of each of the four terms.
*We do a playdate with the MA Musical Theatre students (I wish we took the same workshops because they get to work with John Barrowman this year. Ugh, I would just die!)
* We spend the month of January in London at the Globe theatre and are taught by the members there.
* After Easter we put on two shows (half of us in one, half in the other) for which we have to audition. The shows are Shakespeare's Measure for Measure. and The Duchess of Malfi by John Webster.
* We have the opportunity to put up a new and unique piece of our own in conjunction with our research projects.
* We do select scenes from Chekhov's The Cherry Orchard as our Realism project and then perform them for faculty and students.
*We combine a choral grecian piece with a contemporary piece and perform that for faculty and students.
*We have well established Scottish playwrights come in and write a play for us after watching us act excerpts from their already established plays. We then tour those plays to London, Edinburgh, and around Glasgow.
*We keep a daily Practicum (all the AMDA students may now groan for me).
*And we go to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival next august/september for more seminars, workshops, and to see shows.
...is your mind blown yet? because mine is. We all walked out of that room feeling excited and overwhelmed. I did ask whether or not we had to learn a standard accent. As some of you know, at AMDA in NY, all foreign students had to learn an American Standard accent. Here, they believe that your accent is attached to who you are. While it is a good idea to learn the standard "RP" british accent, they said that as long as your accent does not hinder the forming of whatever character you are playing, than our natural speech is good enough.
At the end we went around and said how we were feeling about the whole thing. I said that I was very excited but also a bit petrified. That all those buttons that make me feel uncomfortable but need to be pushed will be here. That I was happy to be in a safe place so that I can fail big. And that now I needed to go back to my room and marinate in all this.
I think, but I'm not sure, that both professors were reading absolute fear on my face. It's true, I'm sure it was there. But I hope they realize I'm not going anywhere. Yes, I hate the fact that I'm going to be really really bad at some of this stuff. Like abysmally. Physical comedy freaks me out. Clowning is uncomfortable for me. Improvisation gives me hives! I hate being wrong. And it's exhausting convincing myself that THERE IS NO WRONG CHOICE...only better ones. I'd say almost every single person in that room though is someone that I may be ok making a complete ass out of myself. And that's good, because I will.
I just don't want to hear "You'd be great, Stacy, if you'd just let go." or "Stacy, you are too reserved and safe." or "Stacy you don't really fit anywhere." I'm tired of it. So I'm doing some yoga tonight to decompress and then as Faith says "Let go, and Let God."
This sounds like the most painful, exhausting, and AWESOME program. I will be a better actor for it. And I will be a stronger person. Period.
So after that mental explosion, I went home to fix some form of dinner after I hit the Pound Store. It's the dollar store of UK. And it's Brilliant. Almost everything you can imagine that you need for only a pound. I finally got some coffee cups and a bowl. Ok, yes the bowl has cartoon superhero figures on it. and the coffee cup is something that would fit in a Precious Moments collection. But they work. And that's about as high as my expectations go.
Now here's the best part of my day. I go to the kitchen to make some pasta and find that I dont know how to turn the mother f*&^ing stove on. First there's a switch on the wall that you flip to turn on the gas. Then there's the gas dial that apparently you have to turn on as well as flick the ignite button. I'm thinking, oh shit, I'm going to burn this place down. But then in comes Michael the Composer (who by the way scared the bejeebus out of me while I was scowling at the stove). Now, from now on I'll call him MC for short. MC was sweet enough to slip a birthday card under my door early that morning, so I accept my embarrassment and ask how to turn on the stove. Funnily enough, MC is NOT a cooker. He said his mum gave him a crash course in cooking before he arrived here and he was just planning on attempting pasta himself. In the end, he figured out how to light the stove, and I taught him how to use the can opener (UK translation= tin opener) as well as explaining that the pasta has to boil. Not just sit in hot water. It was very entertaining. In the conversation whilst we were attempting culinary gloriousness, it came up that I saw Daniel Radcliffe (Harry Potter) on Broadway in both the musical "How to Succeed in Business..." and in the play "Equus." Now, for those who don't know Equus, that is the play in which the character is butt naked running around the stage stabbing out the eyes of horses in stables. Yeah...it's a picker upper.
Anyway, MC asks in his posh accent "Now, may I ask you a question?"
Me: Of Course. (thinking it will be whether or not Daniel was a good actor)
MC (after a dramatic pause): Does he have a two inch twitter?
UK Translation= does he have a small...well, you know.
I don't think I've laughed harder all summer.
I think that's a good note to end on. :)
I'm thinking of you.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Socially awkward...kind of.
I slept 13 hours. And could have slept 13 more. But knew that's what I would do if I played safe. I like to hibernate. Because then I have no one to impress but myself. And let's be real, my expectations are low. But I got myself up, got ready and headed to the kitchen to claim a cupboard and drawer (we share the kitchen with 8 other students. )
And it is there that I met Michael. Michael is a masters student in composition from Brighton/Dublin. He's lovely and inquisitive and very tall. What meant to be a two minute conversation turned into a forty minute one. I find that I am laughed at a lot here. In the good way. In the "aren't you clever. and silly American, english is for kids." kind of way. I don't mind it.
Later on in the day, Timothy dragged me to what they call the Fresher's Night. Where there's a massive get together where you meet some current students and then afterwards you meet some of your fellow programme colleagues. The massive get together was frightening frankly. A bunch of 18 year olds running around hugging each other. As you know, friends, I'm not a big hugger. Touching is earned and there has to be a reason. Breathing is not enough. But I did manage to find a french student (who did NOT speak much english) to converse with. I don't think he'll survive long here but at least I practiced some french for a bit.
I did find Kate from my programme though and we (and Timothy) scampered off to the Nero cafe for some tea and to kill time before the next suaree. Kate is very sweet (the good kind.) She's from both London and Calgary. I actually auditioned with her the same day in NYC so it was nice to get to know her better. And very refreshing to realize that we all were having the same fears.
About the time we headed back to school, I began to feel the beginnings of jet-lag set in again. But said to myself, "Self? Don't be a granny. You may be turning 29 tomorrow, but that doesn't give you license to act like your 80." So I went. And I'm glad I did. I met about ten people from my programme. ...about 8 are American. So I guess we arent the minority after all. One guy is even originally from Seattle and three from NYC. So there you go. And I can honestly say that as far as first impressions go...I like them all. Which is a relief. And a shock. We had some beers and then headed to the local bar that most people go to. Which ended up not being my scene. They don't take credit cards and I have yet been able to open a local bank account. They play loud music so you can't talk and there were way too many of the "I need to drink to get drunk" types. So I didn't last long. And I started feeling, as I always do eventually, socially awkward. Believe it or not, the meeting of new people is NOT my favorite thing. It doesnt even make the top 100. It's like middle school all over again, bringing out insecurities that I frankly don't have time for. Meeting new people, people that you are going to be surrounded with intensely for a long time, is exhausting and makes you feel vulnerable. That's why I'm so horrible at networking, I think.
I'm sure I was fine. I'm sure they liked me. When I mentioned it was my birthday tomorrow (which I wasnt going to tell anyone but since I liked them so much, I did) they all said let's go have a pint somewhere after matriculation tomorrow. I planned on going to a movie but I may just meet them after as well.
I don't know why I always get this sick feeling in my stomach after meeting people. Even when I LIKE them. But I always feel unsettled. Almost similiar to being embarrassed. So I ask myself...what am I embarrassed of? I have no idea.
So I'll do what I always do. I'll give myself the evening to stew in whatever is unsettling me, then turn on a movie and get the hell over it. Because I will be damned if I'm going to get in my own way again. You are supposed to be your own best friend. Not your own worst enemy. There will be enough people out there who will bring out the ugliness in you, you need not do it to yourself. So, I'm going to bed tonight with Calvin's words in my head. "Chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiild. You just be you." Because that's all that's needed. That's enough.
And it is there that I met Michael. Michael is a masters student in composition from Brighton/Dublin. He's lovely and inquisitive and very tall. What meant to be a two minute conversation turned into a forty minute one. I find that I am laughed at a lot here. In the good way. In the "aren't you clever. and silly American, english is for kids." kind of way. I don't mind it.
Later on in the day, Timothy dragged me to what they call the Fresher's Night. Where there's a massive get together where you meet some current students and then afterwards you meet some of your fellow programme colleagues. The massive get together was frightening frankly. A bunch of 18 year olds running around hugging each other. As you know, friends, I'm not a big hugger. Touching is earned and there has to be a reason. Breathing is not enough. But I did manage to find a french student (who did NOT speak much english) to converse with. I don't think he'll survive long here but at least I practiced some french for a bit.
I did find Kate from my programme though and we (and Timothy) scampered off to the Nero cafe for some tea and to kill time before the next suaree. Kate is very sweet (the good kind.) She's from both London and Calgary. I actually auditioned with her the same day in NYC so it was nice to get to know her better. And very refreshing to realize that we all were having the same fears.
About the time we headed back to school, I began to feel the beginnings of jet-lag set in again. But said to myself, "Self? Don't be a granny. You may be turning 29 tomorrow, but that doesn't give you license to act like your 80." So I went. And I'm glad I did. I met about ten people from my programme. ...about 8 are American. So I guess we arent the minority after all. One guy is even originally from Seattle and three from NYC. So there you go. And I can honestly say that as far as first impressions go...I like them all. Which is a relief. And a shock. We had some beers and then headed to the local bar that most people go to. Which ended up not being my scene. They don't take credit cards and I have yet been able to open a local bank account. They play loud music so you can't talk and there were way too many of the "I need to drink to get drunk" types. So I didn't last long. And I started feeling, as I always do eventually, socially awkward. Believe it or not, the meeting of new people is NOT my favorite thing. It doesnt even make the top 100. It's like middle school all over again, bringing out insecurities that I frankly don't have time for. Meeting new people, people that you are going to be surrounded with intensely for a long time, is exhausting and makes you feel vulnerable. That's why I'm so horrible at networking, I think.
I'm sure I was fine. I'm sure they liked me. When I mentioned it was my birthday tomorrow (which I wasnt going to tell anyone but since I liked them so much, I did) they all said let's go have a pint somewhere after matriculation tomorrow. I planned on going to a movie but I may just meet them after as well.
I don't know why I always get this sick feeling in my stomach after meeting people. Even when I LIKE them. But I always feel unsettled. Almost similiar to being embarrassed. So I ask myself...what am I embarrassed of? I have no idea.
So I'll do what I always do. I'll give myself the evening to stew in whatever is unsettling me, then turn on a movie and get the hell over it. Because I will be damned if I'm going to get in my own way again. You are supposed to be your own best friend. Not your own worst enemy. There will be enough people out there who will bring out the ugliness in you, you need not do it to yourself. So, I'm going to bed tonight with Calvin's words in my head. "Chiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiild. You just be you." Because that's all that's needed. That's enough.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Invasion of the Starbucks.
Six years ago when I lived in France, I had to hunt down the only Starbucks in Paris near L'opera Garnier. Now, with my first day in Glasgow, I have seen five. Just on the 15 minute walk to school. (p.s. they all smell the same. Although they call their breakfast sandwiches Bacon/Sausage Buttie. yeah. I had a good laugh on that one, too.)
Sadly, I did partake in that as well as Pizza Hut with my new friend Timothy of Houston, TX. I know. Pathetic. And incredibly cliche. But after being up for well over 24 hrs, I went for quick, easy, and familiar. I'll leave the fish and chips (they are everywhere) and haggis for another day.
So. Some questions to be asked and answered:
Did I hear bagpipes in the street while walking around? Yup.
Did I see tacky hoodlums in green velour jumpsuits that would be our version of white trash? You betcha.
Does Scotland smell like it always does after a good rain? Sure 'nough.
So, so far so good. I landed at Glasgow international at 730am this morning without a lick of sleep. During the descent I was playing a rather arduous and intense game of solitaire when I glanced out the window. And I froze. It really is so breathtakingly beautiful. Green everywhere mixed with stone buildings and bridges. Glasgow itself is a bit industrial (reminds me of downtown Tacoma in someways).
My ride from the airport never showed. So me, being the impatient wench that I am, hailed a cab instead. I checked into my room early and began to unpack. Ran some errands and then used every ounce of strength I had not to fall asleep. (ok, ok. I may have had a two hour nap. but that's it.) Thank God for Timothy or I'd be waking up at 4am this morning on the wrong time zone.
So, in case I might be home sick for a bit of American culture, I now have Kentucky Fried Chicken, Urban Outfitters, Starbucks, Pizza Hut, H&M, and a variety of other pop culture things. They were blasting Beyonce's new album on outside speakers and there's even a store called Americandy where they sell fruit loops, cocoa puffs, and Mug rootbeer etc. Part of me was hoping I wouldnt be so surrounded by all that commercialism. But as the day went on, I realize that I'm still very much a foreigner. So no worries there. Awkward times are sure to come.
They have weird stuff like Marmite. At Pizza Hut, they have a special BBQ americana pizza that has, wait for it, sweet corn on it. And I have to ask them to repeat everything at least twice. The poor customs guy at the airport took twice as long with me. It kind of went like this:
'Customs guy: "aoidsfjaer agoinjasvoiusd asoidjj?"
Me: Whuh?
Customs guy: "how loooong yu stayn?"
Me: a year.
Customs guy: "whut aspodifjag studay?"
Me: huh?
Customs guy: "yu. studay. what?"
Me: Oh. acting.
and so on.
Everything is accessible and even a movie theater is within walking distance. I still have to get the hang of the currency exchange and how much I'm really spending. And it doesn't help that the money is something like out of the Monopoly game. And damn is it heavy. You could seriously injure if you chucked a 1pound coin at someone. Not that I've been tempted. Yet.
I'm doing my best to go with the flow. Do what I need. And realize that I'm really tired, so things are a bit wonky on purpose. I find that as long as I focus on right now, there's no fear. And from what I gather, that's exactly what I need to do in order to adapt to the "European Way" (whatever that means). They give you a timeline...then they don't follow it. The sky isn't the only area that is grey. In the words of Captain Barbosa, "They're more like guidelines." Which, friends, as many of you know, is NOT how I function. Tell me how to do it, and it's done. Give me a deadline, and it's met. So this is either going to be very good for me, or it'll kill me. Speaking of killing...
I must remember that they drive on the wrong (I mean left) side of the street. And that this is NOT New York. If you walk across the street when the little man is red, you will die. And it will be YOUR fault. Huh. Who knew?
On a side note, I'd really like to thank those friends who called/texted me the day before I left, and for David for writing me that email. I hadn't realized how badly I needed to hear from you all. And it made getting on that plane all the more easier.
It's going to be fine. It always is.
Thinking of you.
Sadly, I did partake in that as well as Pizza Hut with my new friend Timothy of Houston, TX. I know. Pathetic. And incredibly cliche. But after being up for well over 24 hrs, I went for quick, easy, and familiar. I'll leave the fish and chips (they are everywhere) and haggis for another day.
So. Some questions to be asked and answered:
Did I hear bagpipes in the street while walking around? Yup.
Did I see tacky hoodlums in green velour jumpsuits that would be our version of white trash? You betcha.
Does Scotland smell like it always does after a good rain? Sure 'nough.
So, so far so good. I landed at Glasgow international at 730am this morning without a lick of sleep. During the descent I was playing a rather arduous and intense game of solitaire when I glanced out the window. And I froze. It really is so breathtakingly beautiful. Green everywhere mixed with stone buildings and bridges. Glasgow itself is a bit industrial (reminds me of downtown Tacoma in someways).
My ride from the airport never showed. So me, being the impatient wench that I am, hailed a cab instead. I checked into my room early and began to unpack. Ran some errands and then used every ounce of strength I had not to fall asleep. (ok, ok. I may have had a two hour nap. but that's it.) Thank God for Timothy or I'd be waking up at 4am this morning on the wrong time zone.
So, in case I might be home sick for a bit of American culture, I now have Kentucky Fried Chicken, Urban Outfitters, Starbucks, Pizza Hut, H&M, and a variety of other pop culture things. They were blasting Beyonce's new album on outside speakers and there's even a store called Americandy where they sell fruit loops, cocoa puffs, and Mug rootbeer etc. Part of me was hoping I wouldnt be so surrounded by all that commercialism. But as the day went on, I realize that I'm still very much a foreigner. So no worries there. Awkward times are sure to come.
They have weird stuff like Marmite. At Pizza Hut, they have a special BBQ americana pizza that has, wait for it, sweet corn on it. And I have to ask them to repeat everything at least twice. The poor customs guy at the airport took twice as long with me. It kind of went like this:
'Customs guy: "aoidsfjaer agoinjasvoiusd asoidjj?"
Me: Whuh?
Customs guy: "how loooong yu stayn?"
Me: a year.
Customs guy: "whut aspodifjag studay?"
Me: huh?
Customs guy: "yu. studay. what?"
Me: Oh. acting.
and so on.
Everything is accessible and even a movie theater is within walking distance. I still have to get the hang of the currency exchange and how much I'm really spending. And it doesn't help that the money is something like out of the Monopoly game. And damn is it heavy. You could seriously injure if you chucked a 1pound coin at someone. Not that I've been tempted. Yet.
I'm doing my best to go with the flow. Do what I need. And realize that I'm really tired, so things are a bit wonky on purpose. I find that as long as I focus on right now, there's no fear. And from what I gather, that's exactly what I need to do in order to adapt to the "European Way" (whatever that means). They give you a timeline...then they don't follow it. The sky isn't the only area that is grey. In the words of Captain Barbosa, "They're more like guidelines." Which, friends, as many of you know, is NOT how I function. Tell me how to do it, and it's done. Give me a deadline, and it's met. So this is either going to be very good for me, or it'll kill me. Speaking of killing...
I must remember that they drive on the wrong (I mean left) side of the street. And that this is NOT New York. If you walk across the street when the little man is red, you will die. And it will be YOUR fault. Huh. Who knew?
On a side note, I'd really like to thank those friends who called/texted me the day before I left, and for David for writing me that email. I hadn't realized how badly I needed to hear from you all. And it made getting on that plane all the more easier.
It's going to be fine. It always is.
Thinking of you.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
What exactly is "ready" anyway?
So here it is. My way of staying in touch with those I love and those who are spread out all over the world. This is going to be...well, I'm not really sure what this is going to be. I can guarantee it will be truthful, full of stories, what I've learned and experienced, and hopefully full of joy. I'm moving to Scotland in three days. I'll spend almost exactly a year in Europe getting my Master of Arts in acting at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland.
Yeah, that's right. You heard me. I'm a student again. I promise it's the last time. People keep asking me if I'm excited and I honestly don't know. I'm feeling everything and nothing. All at once. I feel insecure at times. But then I feel powerful like "I got this shit." (Or something more eloquently put, but same idea.)
The summer here in WA wasnt exactly what I expected and I am definitely ready for a change. And this one is a biggy.
I've set everything up: visas, flights, airport pickup, tuition payments, and even a job (I'm an RA again). And I'm crossing my fingers that I'll balance it better than I think. It's annoying that I forget how much I'm capable of. I doubt before I believe. I think many of you actors out there can understand that. But I am enough. Regardless of how low, how many mistakes I make, what someone thinks about me, how I look, or who ignores me. I am good at what I do and I do my best to make those that matter proud. The question I always ask myself when I come up against a decision or I begin to chicken out is "Can I live with myself if I don't _____?" And though the impending debt I'm incurring scares the bejeebus out of me, and though I sometimes wish I were satisfied with a 9 to 5 job and quiet, and though I have no idea what will happen after this adventure, the answer to "Can I live with myself if I don't get on that plane?" is NO.
So I'ma gonna go. And I'ma gonna do my best. I'm going to trust God that he'll back me up when I can't do it myself. And I'm going to hope that maybe, just maybe, for once something will be even better than I hoped.
I won't go unarmed. I'll take Faith's freedom to give love fearlessly. Johanna's tenacity and charm. Virta's little secrets, Daily's tollbooth analogy. Calvin's sweetness. Paul's confidence and slicing opinion. Shannon's outlandish humor and melody. Sarah O's perseverence. Babs' brush it off and pick yourself up attitude. Tillie's go with the flow-ness. Jasmine's words of wisdom and loyalty. Meg's bestest hugs and honest goodness. Scilla's childlike playfulness and support. Kate and Carolyn's blunt beautiful way to look at the world. Dan B's generosity and ability to listen without judgment. My mother, father, and brother who-though they may never understand-go along with whatever I choose to do next.
Like any good award acceptance speech, I am Positive that I am forgetting people. But this is already becoming as dull as this year's Emmy's. (Really, who writes those things! ugh.)
Anyway, here we go. Friday morning I'll be on a plane. Saturday morning I'll be landing in the land of kilts and people who talk funny. Then again...I'll be the foreigner. This is sure to be interesting.
Love you all. And I hope that you'll drop me a line every so often to keep me in the loop of your lives. So write me, skype me, or carrier pigeon me. And know that I am thinking of you.
Yeah, that's right. You heard me. I'm a student again. I promise it's the last time. People keep asking me if I'm excited and I honestly don't know. I'm feeling everything and nothing. All at once. I feel insecure at times. But then I feel powerful like "I got this shit." (Or something more eloquently put, but same idea.)
The summer here in WA wasnt exactly what I expected and I am definitely ready for a change. And this one is a biggy.
I've set everything up: visas, flights, airport pickup, tuition payments, and even a job (I'm an RA again). And I'm crossing my fingers that I'll balance it better than I think. It's annoying that I forget how much I'm capable of. I doubt before I believe. I think many of you actors out there can understand that. But I am enough. Regardless of how low, how many mistakes I make, what someone thinks about me, how I look, or who ignores me. I am good at what I do and I do my best to make those that matter proud. The question I always ask myself when I come up against a decision or I begin to chicken out is "Can I live with myself if I don't _____?" And though the impending debt I'm incurring scares the bejeebus out of me, and though I sometimes wish I were satisfied with a 9 to 5 job and quiet, and though I have no idea what will happen after this adventure, the answer to "Can I live with myself if I don't get on that plane?" is NO.
So I'ma gonna go. And I'ma gonna do my best. I'm going to trust God that he'll back me up when I can't do it myself. And I'm going to hope that maybe, just maybe, for once something will be even better than I hoped.
I won't go unarmed. I'll take Faith's freedom to give love fearlessly. Johanna's tenacity and charm. Virta's little secrets, Daily's tollbooth analogy. Calvin's sweetness. Paul's confidence and slicing opinion. Shannon's outlandish humor and melody. Sarah O's perseverence. Babs' brush it off and pick yourself up attitude. Tillie's go with the flow-ness. Jasmine's words of wisdom and loyalty. Meg's bestest hugs and honest goodness. Scilla's childlike playfulness and support. Kate and Carolyn's blunt beautiful way to look at the world. Dan B's generosity and ability to listen without judgment. My mother, father, and brother who-though they may never understand-go along with whatever I choose to do next.
Like any good award acceptance speech, I am Positive that I am forgetting people. But this is already becoming as dull as this year's Emmy's. (Really, who writes those things! ugh.)
Anyway, here we go. Friday morning I'll be on a plane. Saturday morning I'll be landing in the land of kilts and people who talk funny. Then again...I'll be the foreigner. This is sure to be interesting.
Love you all. And I hope that you'll drop me a line every so often to keep me in the loop of your lives. So write me, skype me, or carrier pigeon me. And know that I am thinking of you.
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