I hit him in the tray with my face.

When I look in the mirror these past few days, I keep thinking of that Julia Roberts movie "America's Sweethearts" where John Cusack gets knocked out by Hank Azaria with a waiters tray.  When asked what happened he says, "...so I hit him in the tray with my face." 

This past weekend I got remarkably ill.  Sicker than I've been in a very long time.  It began as just a cold and ended up with me fainting at 430am in the morning on my way to get a glass of water.  Let me point out that I'm perfectly fine now.  Well, with the exception of the fact that my face has carpet burn and I've a few rather large bruises elsewhere.  But the cold is gone and nothing is wrong that can't be fixed with a bit of neosporin and time.  But it scared me a bit.  It reminded me that no, living alone for the rest of my life is indeed NOT a good idea.  I am thankful my dad was up and online so I had someone to talk to right after which made all the difference in the world.  But I sure could've used a cuddle as well.  I used to have fainting spells whenever I had acute pain from something.  I had once fallen downstairs and had torn my large toenail off and ended up fainting four or five times from that.  And there was that one time I got my belly button pierced in high school...oy, bad decisions all around.  But I hadnt done so in years.  Can't say I've missed it.  But anyway, my face at the time looked like I got into a fight with someone.  I am convinced that if this were the case, the other person would be in much worse condition.  But in this instance, the carpet and doorframe (that caught my shoulder) totally won.  two points immobile furniture. stacy, zero.
Which led me to missing my first day of school all year.  Luckily I have very understanding classmates and directors who filled me in and made sure I missed nothing.  So I spent the day sleeping for 45 minutes, then staying awake for 2hours writing my term paper, then sleeping for 45 minutes, and repeat.  Although now that I think of it, perhaps writing a term paper while disoriented may not be the best idea. ...Either that or it could be the best idea ever.  I'll wait to see my grade and let you know.

By Tuesday the splitting headache and most of my cold had gone away and I joined the land of the living.  Rehearsals for Duchess of Malfi have now begun.  Our director, Pete Collins, likes to start out the sessions with a game of foursquare.  No, like really.  Yes, the same foursquare we used to play on the playground during recess in elementary school.  I think I like this Pete Collins.
Then we did a read through of our cut of the scripte. I am playing, as of now, the midwife, a servant, and the doctor of an insane asylum.  This should be good.  I look forward to being in charge of crazy people.  And we also discussed having some music in which I'll possibly be playing the flute and singing again.  Look mom, those lessons may in fact pay off!

Following that we were given the afternoon off to research our given topics for the next day's presentation and then I had rehearsal for On the Verge with Phil, et al. again.  The more I do this Verge project, the more I like it.  I absolutely love the people I am working with.  It's a nonconfrontational nonjudgmental bunch who love to play and are natural doing it.  I'm partnered with JS for the most part and it is so nice to have a sense of ease and banter.  I'm not used to that and I so look forward to seeing how this develops.  SM and DS are also lovely counterpoints.  None of us are alike at all but together we make an ensemble that makes sense, I think.  And they make me laugh.  Improv is always so nerveracking for me.  Or rather the moment right before is.  I dread it because I'm such a planner, and you just can't predict or plan improv if you want to make it good.  But once I get started with it, I've learned to just let go and let God.  And it turns out alright 99% of the time.  But I always get anxious right before.  That anxiousness has lessened immensely because of these four people I'm working with.  Because though I know they'll push me, I'm safe with them.  It's a rare thing.

This morning we did another round of foursquare and then everyone from both casts (Measure for Measure is our other show. Our cohort is split for this section of term) gave a report on certain themes that we found in both texts.  My subject was 17th Century brothels and prostitution. Excellent.  Surprisingly enough, it's quite a fascinating subject.  1 in 5 women in London as of the beginning of the 18th C were harlots.  It is, after all, the oldest profession.  And when I was in musical theatre training, I always seemed to play either the whore or the housewife which, ironically, are pretty much your two choices of roles in the 17th Century. 

Anywho.  Following lunchbreak, Pete decided that we needed to go on a field trip. To a graveyard.  Right.  Sometimes I marvel at my life.  But we got our wellies and coats on and walked to the necropolis to do an acting exercise.  However, upon arrival we discovered that it was closed.  But Pete decided we would do the exercise anyway which was that we were to walk together as a group, anywhere, but we must stay together.  We must observe what's around us, our feelings, etc.  But we must never talk.  Complete silence for 45 minutes.  We wandered towards the local cathedral and went inside.  We spent most of our time there, reading plaques, touching walls and tombs, sitting in pews, but always staying relatively together.  We created our own atmosphere.  Which sometimes scared other visitors off.  Cracked me up.  We eventually left the cathedral to walk around in the windy wet.  Some of us found the oldest house in Glasgow and poked our heads in.  We didn't stay long because one of the ladies who worked there came over to speak to us...but we couldn't answer back.  She eventually just thought we didn't speak english and pointed out an area with pamphlets in other languages and left us alone.  We just left, feeling a bit bad that we couldn't explain.
I find that I liked the silence.  It didn't bother me at all.  It sort of annoyed me when we were allowed to speak again.  It was nice to just hear what was around us naturally.  What was it that Glynn-duh used to say? "Do not speak unless you can improve on silence."

We returned to school to discuss what we felt, observed, and what the exercise was meant to do.  I think it was about learning how this particular group works.  Who has instincts to lead, who to follow?  Who will we LET lead, who will we follow?  Do we resist or do we blend?  And what atmosphere do we bring to the whole?  By understanding that, and learning how to manipulate it, we can control or have the ability to put forth a product of worth.  At least that's what Pete hopes.  I hope so, too.