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
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