Graduation

So as my education finally comes to an end, the anticipation I've had for so many years is waning a bit. Perhaps I'm not ready, perhaps I still have more to learn. I'm a director, but am I ready to direct?

I've started looking at Grad programs.

Or rather, one program, Yale. If I'm going to consider another three years of school, it might as well be the best, right? Their program looks amazing.

Of course, I'm not thinking next fall. They want two years professional expirience, so fall 2009 might still be too soon, though if I haven't started getting jobs by next January, I'll probably apply just to see what happens. I can always apply again after all.

However, I might start getting jobs, keep getting jobs, and eventually get so busy directing that I'll never give Yale a second thought.

It's an exciting time.

Actor v. Director/Producer

So today I got to the theater building at 11am to audition an actor, then I had a job clarification conversation with my stage manager and spent nearly four hours with the costume designer. Then I went to rehearsal as an actor, was there for 15 minutes and was sent home.

I don't understand why anyone would want to act. I'm glad they do however, otherwise being a director would be awfully depressing.

By the way, I've managed to add on three new projects to my project list. Therefore, if everything actually does work out it will look as such:
Early 2008: Arcadia
Less Early 2008: Faust film
Middle 2008: Fringe show
Latish 2008: Project for Morris Park Players
Late 2008/Early 2009: Animated Film Project and Euphoria, by my fringe show writer

Of course, if London does work out, some of these won't happen. However, it's starting to look like I might be happy in Minneapolis for... some time.

The show is dead, long live the show!

Sunday my latest show ended. It had a good run, everyone enjoyed it.

I've mostly forgotten it.

Not the lessons I learned from it, or the enjoyment I took from it, but the need that drove me on.

For I'm already deep into plans for another play, this one much more important and with a lot balancing on it. I booked a space (finally!) and today I took out a line of credit to pay for the production, applied for the rights and ordered scripts. I'm also about halfway through the casting process and in the middle of pre-design talks with the costumer. And I've found a Stage Manager.

But on top of that, I'm also planning for a fringe show this summer that's being written for me and a movie that I want to make, not to mention various small projects just for fun.

Somewhere in the middle of all this producing and directing, I also need to get myself a job, a real job, one that will let me keep a roof over my head, food in my belly and my credit rating up while I run around doing things I've dreamed of doing.

However, it's the challenges that make life interesting.

Another Opening of Another Show

Which makes it sound like I do this all the time, doesn't it? It's strange how though I think of myself as a director, possibly even before I think of myself as a student, an American, or even a woman, I've really only directed four shows before this one now. Of course, five shows at the age of 22 is not a bad account.

I'm having a great time with the show, even though it's the most difficult project I have EVER attempted. Part of it is the script itself, classical theater is harder. Part of it is working with a collaborator, I've had to learn how to bend my vision to fit with another without actually losing what I want. It's also a large cast- 15 and I am still trying to readjust to living in this country.

I'm happy though, happy to be with my friends, happy to be making art. Happy to be a Director.

New Play!

Made of very old ones. Auditions went swimmingly well, even if they weren't particularly well-run... Chris and I should work together well, though I'm still not sure what it is we're going to be making together...

Still, I am working in the Xperimental Theatre. I'll let the name be my guide.

My little trick paid off. I posted a call-back list and all the actors trouped in thinking they had to work hard again, read more lines, sweat it out. Then I held up the list that they'd all seen with pleasure (and a little nervousness perhaps) that morning and said "See this list? This is the cast list." There were even a couple double-takes. Beautiful. It's a cast of 17, which should be just about right...

Rehearsals start on Tuesday, I'm so jazzed.

The only thing lacking still is a job, but I have high hopes of this temp agency. If I hear nothing by Friday however, I start getting more aggressive. Possibly with the wanted ads.

Settling back in

It's been an interesting few days. I got home and almost immediately went to see my apartment and sign my lease. The next day was spent moving in and then I went to the woods.

It's only today that I'm starting to feel that I'm home. My apartment is about 2/3's in order and excepting for a bit of confusion over what day it is, I seem to be managing just fine.

Apollo's none too happy however, he doesn't like the apartment yet, as he verbalized quite clearly to me last night, all night long. He'll settle in soon I'm sure, but for the moment, it's awfully annoying.

I have my first meeting of my only class of my last semester in about an hour. It's nice that I can finally take this class, I've been waiting for years. It's also a blessing to have this directing project starting, as it will keep me from missing London too much.

I still need to get a job too, but that's a task for tomorrow, today I'm not going to worry too much about it.

Quiet Days, Lazy Nights

These two weeks are passing pleasantly enough. I wake up late, walk for an hour down to the office, and mostly just take in the mail, though I've made a few phone calls too. I've been spending a good chunk of time preparing for my project this fall. I decided that if I'm to have the gall to claim I can teach the history of English drama, I should know it very well myself. So I've been reading a play a day.

I've decided Ben Jonson was a twat.

I've also been watching movies. The BBC is running a "Summer of British Films". British films are really quite distinctive from American ones and the farther back you go, the more it's apparent. Tonight I watched "The Most Violent Film of 1963", a charming film called "Witchfinder General" starring Vincent Price, who meets his end with 14 blows of an ax and then a bullet. But don't worry- he deserved it.

Now, I don't want anyone thinking that I'm wasting my time in London. I went to the Tower of London this week and my student discount was almost exactly the cost of an audio guide... so I splurged and got to hear all the gristly stores of noble deaths and horrid tortures. Not that the English tortured many people, quite a decent record compared to say... the Spanish and the majority was done under the first Queen Elizabeth and you almost can't blame her considering how many people were trying to kick her off the throne.

And today we had sunshine. Very exciting.

However, I am very much looking forward to returning home on Thursday.

Bangkok

No, I'm not going, sadly, but I got a call from my boss on holiday asking if I wouldn't mind helping them send six actors to Bangkok for a week to play the rude mechanicals in a German ballet version of "A Midsummer Night's Dream".

I'm going to miss this job. Things like this just don't happen in Minneapolis.

They also offered to pay me for the work, leading me to realise that I'm well on my way to a criminal life. This isn't just a beer before I turned 21, or jaywalking. No, I'm working illegally. They have whole scuads of people to stop me from what I might very well be doing. But what's the other option? Say, "sorry, I can't help you with a little research while you try to have a holiday and keep your business going, it's not legal"? I figure that I'd do this for free right, so if they happen to give me money, it's more a gift than a salary. I wonder if that would convince the immigrant police?

Triumphant Return

I have returned to London, having seen 19 plays at the fringe and one last night, with Greg, in Chichester. It made me a touch sad, because that could well be the last play I ever watch with him. Of course, thinking like that brings madness. I must not think of these two weeks in terms of lasts, but of last chances. This is a wonderful oppurtunity I've been given- time to say good-bye.

I know I will return in time, but likely not permanantly and likely not for awhile. But what of that? I have had an experience that most people don't get- an inclusion into a foreign culture. Not that it feels foreign anymore really, but like Dorothy says: there's no place like home. And I will be glad to return at the end of August. I just might be a little sad for awhile.

A proper entry

Last night's entry was a bit pathetic. Now I shall tell you more about what I've been up to.

The Edinburgh Fringe is nothing like the Minneapolis one. Most of Minneapolis probably doesn't even know it happens. In Edinburgh, you know. The Royal Mile is sectioned off and filled with banners and all over people perform bits of their shows, do juggling, or play the bagpipes. There are lots of Bagpipes.

The weirdest thing I've come up against is that after five months of seeing theatre by myself in London and traveling alone through Europe, for the first time, I've felt ashamed about flying solo. Monday was 2 for 1 day. At one theatre they insisted on giving me the second ticket, despite my solo status. One for me and one for Harvey I guess. (Brownie Points for anyone who gets the reference.) And the tone of voice in which they ask "just one ticket then?" makes me want to pull a stranger off the street and buy them a ticket too, just to avoid that slight look of pity in ticket seller's eyes. But honestly, if I had a friend crazy enough to come to Edinburgh and see 5 shows a day with me... don't you think they'd be here? I just happen to be the craziest one in the group.

But never mind, I just try not to let them guilt me when I'm doing nothing worse than supporting the arts.

Good news by the way. Last night I learned that I will be directing for the Xperimental theater again this Autumn. Very exciting, because if I don't get in a rehearsal room soon, I will run mad. Luckily, I will be in rehearsal by September 12th and that should be soon enough to sooth my manic mind.

Fringe Faintness

I've seen 9 shows in the last two days. A couple were great and none of them were bad. Not too shabby for a fringe festival. However, all this theatre is making me really tired.

I'm being treated really well here, but it's hard to get used to the cold after my boiling hot July.

Safe and Sound in Scotland

After many hours and many miles of travel, I have arrived in Scotland. My wonderful host, Lindsay has made me feel right at home. She even got me a copy of the Fringe program. The blog will be getting a bit dull from here on out and I probably won't post as often as I have been. No one really wants a running tally of the shows I've seen.

My thoughts are in Minneapolis however, and the bridge tragedy. Britain, being the excellent news country it is, has reported the story in every paper I've seen and it's quite a shock to see photos of a bridge I've crossed countless times in pieces from halfway across the world.

Musings on Athens

My blogs have been short lately and tending toward the negative. But I don't want anyone taking away the notion that I dislike Athens. It is pitilessly hot, of course, but I knew that before I came. The architecture is mostly ugly, but there's an undenible charm to wondering through streets of identical ugly buildings to fall upon a 13th century church.

Their national guide at the parliment... wear fuzzy balls on the toes of their shoes, two-foot long tassles off their little red hats, and have nails on the bottoms of their shoes. The purpose of these nails is to be able to sound like a horse when they march, knee up, swing the lower leg, bring it down in a clop. All while pumping a closed fist on an extended arm. Someone must have thought it looked strong and intimidating. I think it belongs in Monty Python's "Ministry of Silly Walks"

The Metro system is very new, and it's amazing it ever got finished considering the numbers of archeology founds they discovered when they dug down. A lot of these are now displayed in the stations, so you're walking to your train and suddenly... a two thousand year old vase is on your left, with a section of ancient drainage system on your right. It's rather fun.

And the food is amazing. Spinach Pie, sesame rolls, chunks of grilled pork in a pita, moussaka, grilled swordfish. Everything I eat is delicious.

Tonight, if I can find it... I'm going to try to get to an outdoor cinema.

Sleeping

One of the hardest parts about this sort of traveling is adapting to new sleeping arrangements. In the last three days I have slept in a room hotter than the outside air, upon a bench on the deck of a night ferry, and in a bland, but thankfully air conditioned hotel room. It's worth it of course.

I slept in the hot room because I wanted a place close enough to walk to after coming back from the theatre at 2:30 in the morning. (Going to the theatre of Epidarus was one of the greatest experiences I've had this summer.) I slept on the ferry to get to Crete, where I swam in the Sea of Crete (bluest water I have ever seen) and visited the sadly overcrowded Minoan Site of Knossos. Tonight I take another night ferry, but I have another hotel room booked for my last night on the 'continent', before flying back to the UK.

It's been an amazing experience, but will anyone be surprised to hear that I'm ready to be done? To stop hauling Dad's old red backpack around Europe and settle into a stable life? Strange to discover after so many years of believing myself to be an independent, valiant explorer that at heart... I'm a homebody.

Delphi

Last night I spent the evening in the mountains of Delphi. Beautiful, and with a sea breeze that made it much preferable to Athens. This morning I wandered down to visit the ruins of the most spiritual place in the ancient world: the Sanctuary of Apollo (forgive my spelling, the spellcheck's in Greek). I wandered through piles of stone and reconstructed buildings and particially standing columns. What a world it must have been. Will any of our buildings last anywhere near as long? Why have we lost respect for architecture? Is it simply because it's all so easy now?

The Parthenon is covered in scaffolding and someone told me it had been for thirty years because the construction company doesn't want to lose the cushy contract and so they will never finish the job. Pathetic. The Ancient Greeks would never have stood for it. The Spartens would have killed them all. Probably at birth. I'm a bit tired, which hopefully excuses my random ramblings. Tomorrow night I'm going to Epidaurus to see a classic play in a classic theatre. So excited.

Harry Potter in Greece

So after my 16 hour ferry ride I bought a copy of the new Harry Potter book and read it on the way across the country to Athens and finished it lying in bed in my first room with AC. Therefore, I can't actually tell you much about Greece yet.

What the book managed to do however, was take my mind off the burn that was so bad it managed to raise the bubbled skin almost a quarter of an inch above the rest of my shoulder. Disturbing. And probably too much information.

I had been traveling with someone I met in Naples, but we couldn't find accomadation at the same hostel and he was supposed to meet me this morning to buy the book off me since we could only find one copy, but he didn't show up. However, I'm confident I can find someone to sell it to.

Volcanoes and sunburn

So, a word to the wise from the not-so-wise. SPF 15- not good enough for an entire day in the Italian sun. My shoulders look like Mt Vesuvirus erupted on them. It was worth it though, to go up to the top of a volcano and then explore Pompeii. There were so many people there, but it was so large that if you went down the right street, it was like you were alone with the ghosts.

I also met this really lovely English couple on the way to the volcano. They shared their lunch with me and we had a really good conversation. But I am excited to be heading to Greece. I should arrive in Athens by this time... Tuesday. Long trip, but hopefully the scenery will be good.

Tourists

Yesterday I was in the Forum, happily wandering through various ruins. I got there about nine and it was fairly empty. An hour or so later and I realized I no longer had as much space I originally did. Due, of course, to the half dozen tourist groups who had suddenly swarmed in, wearing their earpieces and matching bandannas. But luckily, Rome's big enough for both myself, and the tourist groups.

And the locals too I suppose.

Cats!

Today I took the advice Diane gave me and went to the Largo Argentina ruins, which house a cat sanctuary. The Italians do not take care of their animals. Apparently it's quite common for owners to abandon their cats when they go on holidays and they believe it to be "unnatural" to neuter their animals. So these people are illegal squaters who raise money to feed, neuter, and take care of these cats, many of which have been terribly abused.

So I spent a wonderful hour or so petting cats, some missing a leg, several blind, and all adorable. Later they gave a tour of the ruins, which holds not only cats, but also the assumed position where Julius Caesar was stabbed to death. It was an easier day than yesterday, but all the walking (much of it to no purpose I fear) has made me quite exhausted. Tomorrow- the Forum!

The Eternal City

I had a proper tourist day today. Got up at six in the morning to wait in line for the Sistine chapel. Despite arriving three hours early, there were a number of people ahead of me. But it was cleverly done and I got in without a fuss.

The chapel is... well those of you who have seen it know, but at first it seemed like being trapped in a crayon box. The colors were so vivid that for a moment I couldn't make out what they created. It was like a crayon box in another way too, in that there were so many people in there I couldn't see the floor. Once I planted myself however and looked up, the images came together in an astonishing way. Unbelievable.

From there I saw the rest of the Vatican museum and then moved onto St Peter's. Now, I've seen a lot of churches, but this one shook me out of my architectural stupor. So beautiful, and to see the Pieta, even behind glass, was a wonderful experience. My favorite part of the morning however, besides eating watermelon, was in realizing that while it took 3 hours to get into the museum, it took about 3 minutes to get into the church. Classic.

I honestly did mean to go back after that and take a well-deserved nap (I haven't slept a lot in the last few nights due to the heat), but I kept noticing how very close I was to this piazza, or that fountain and in the end I didn't get back to the hostel until 7pm and by that point it was too late to nap, so I took a shower, went to the Spanish steps, where I was accosted by the rudest rose-seller I've ever had the misfortune to meet, and then came back to make a bit of dinner and wind down the day.

It was good that I ate something solid, for most of my calories lately have been in drinks, fruit, ice cream, along with the gallon or so of water. It's just too hot for me to be hungry until the sun goes down and takes the worst of the heat with it, but all the sugar I'm ingesting is not good for me.

Tomorrow I plan to see the main ruins. I saw the Parthenon today, but it had been turned into a church. Which seems wrong to me somehow...

Art, mosquitoes, and heat

It's very hot here. I really should have thought this going to Italy in the high season thing through a little more carefully, but... in the end, this isn't going to be what I remember. I won't remember the dozens of mosquito bites covering my legs, or the trickle of sweat that constantly runs down the side of my face whenever I'm outside.

What I will remember is the quick peeks of the hills outside the city as I walk by a long street. Or finally seeing an original Artemisia painting seven years after the project I did on her. Or splurging on an audio guide and getting an entire history of Italian painting from the 13th to the 18th century at the Uffizi. I will remember David, who I did decide to see (and only waited for an hour!) and how struck sad he looked, not at all like the pictures. I will remember refilling my water bottle at a pump outside the Duomo. I may remember the constant thirst, but hopefully not...

Florence is lovely, but like Venice, I think I would rather come here at a different time in my life, when I have a little more money and maybe even more understanding of the history. Coming when it's twenty degrees cooler also seems like a clever idea.

From what I've read about Rome however, it seems as if there are lots of things to see and do that you don't pay for. More local colour perhaps. Hopefully not so many tourists, or at least, with a larger city, not so many noticeable tourists. I guess we'll find out tomorrow.

Goodbye Venice, Hello Florence

So I left Venice (and without seeing a single museum or church, bad Jenna). I did see the most amazing sunset while riding a twilight vaporetto around the city. I didn't actually do a lot while I was there, because it was a giant tourist trap. I simply couldn't afford to pay for the museums. I did pay to see the Palacio Ducale, after I walked pasted the 100m line for the basilica and turned the corner. It held both the apartments for the Doge and the council chambers, it was also attached to the dungeons by the bridge of sighs.

I'll have to make it up and go to a museum or to while I'm in Florence. Though I think I'll skip the three hour wait to see the David sculpture. I would like to see the Birth of Venus however.

So far I rather like Florence. I like it, but I don't love it. Perhaps people talked it up to me too much. Or maybe it's just the heat getting to me. It is rather hot, but I should suck it up, because it's only going to get hotter as I head south.

I just came back from the Duomo (saw one church in Florence anyway), which is incredibly beautiful outside, pale pink and dark green marble and quite stark inside. But mostly I've just been doing a lot of walking. I'm a bit burnt out on churches and museums.

Water water everywhere

Let's talk about water, dozens of bridges, water boats and water taxis. Let's talk about narrow empty stone streets that suddenly open up on busy squares. Let's talk about gothic buidlings, glorious churches and bright pink foam alligators mounted above doors (no idea, but they're everywhere). Let's talk about about gelatto on every corner, mocking my lactose intolerance. Let's talk about breath-taking glass creations with jaw-dropping price tags. Let's talk about the quicknes of breath that accompanies the inner monolouge "Is it? I think... yes! San Marco." Let's talk about Venice.

Or better still, let us be silent and simply take it all in.

Switzerland

I'm spending one night in Basel. It's really charming, though it's hard to tell how much of that is based on the fact that I only had 3 hours of sleep last night. (Insomnia and early trains don't mix)

But I took a pda audio walking tour (ain't technology great?) and rode across the river on a cable boat. And I bought a watch. A Swiss watch. But really, other than the different money, it's much the same as a similar-sized German town.

The hostel is quite nice though. Except for the three dozen children running around. There must be some sort of scouting trip or something. But my room looks out over the river and I do so love rivers...

It's going to take 8 hours on the train to get me to Venice tomorrow, so I really hope I can get some sleep tonight.

Return to Rain

Wow, so... Dresden is pretty. I think. It was hard to tell through the pouring rain.

But we´re back in Gottingen, being incredibly well-fed (I can´t get too used to this, I go back to buying my own food soon.)

Tomorrow is Michael´s graduation, hopefully I can stay awake, I find ceremonies dull when they´re in English, German ones... well...

Not much else to say really, it´s been fairly low key lately. Just wait until I go to Italy.

Berlin

I have heard that Berlin is the most happening city in Europe right now. I haven´t quite noticed that yet, but perhaps I am going out during the wrong time of day. Being daytime and not the bright lights and good times of clubbing time.

While the city isn´t quite ALL that I had been led to expect, it is fascinating and chockful of history. Every so often I look around and remember that not so long ago, this city was two cities. That these pieces of concrete decorating parts of the city are reminders of a time when horrible things happened directly after even more horrible things.

My hostess grew up in this city while it was occupied territory. I can´t even imagine.

German Hospitality

Which includes really good wine apparently... Wow. The evening is a bit overwhelming however, as the conversation keeps switching from German to English and I speak... no German. So I´m taking a break on the offered computer. My wonderful host is the daughter of the man my father worked for thirty years ago. Dad´s here too by the way and I´m enjoying spending time with him alone.

I am currently in Munster, where I´ve seen four churches, the building where the Peace of Westphalia was signed (thereby ending the 30 years war) and a swan that fell in love with a swan-shaped boat.

Oh, and I´ve eaten a lot. Now I´m fighting off the exhaustion that naturally comes by a long day wandering in the rain followed by three large glasses of spanish wine and a lot of paella. (I know, I thought I´d left Spain too. But then, it is a small world.)

Well, I should get back to my hosts. But not to the wine, I do need to actually need to be able to walk to my bed tonight...

Chocolate!

The best part about traveling in a fly-by-night manner is that one can change plans at any time. In this spirit, when I arrived last night in Brussels and immediately had the urge to go hide somewhere, I decided that I wouldn't be staying any longer than necessary. I stayed one night, as it was already nearly 8pm, but the next day I left, pausing only to pick up some of the pralines the city is so famed for.

After arriving in Cologne, Germany (a city I immediately and mysteriously adored) however, I found myself regretting my rash action.

Do you know they have a chocolate museum in Cologne? With a drool worthy gift shop?

Well, they do.

Originally all I bought was a chocolate squirrel, produced onsite, as a host gift for the family Dad and I am staying with for a couple days. (All those decency lessons from my mother finally paying off.) But then... I went into the main gift shop...

But you can all wonder at my amazing restraint, for I purchased only 2 items. The first was a bar of chocolate in the bizarre flavour of Pinapple and Paprika (though you should've seen some of the flavours I passed by as being too weird...) The other is a souveneir rivaled only by the collapsing Julius Ceaser toy I got in Stratford. A spice grinder full of chocolate, cardamum, orange peel, and various other things I can only guess at as they're listed in German. It smells divine however. I put some on my pasta tonight, tossed with a bit of olive oil. Delectable. I have a suspicion it might be tasty on buttered toast as well...

It's odd, the cities I'm falling in love with. They are rarely the ones I expect. Loved Seville for instance, but not Madrid. Who knows, maybe I love the little ones because there are no expectations to disappoint.

Friends

It's been so much fun doing this trip with Bach. We really haven't had much time to spend with each other in the last few years and what with him moving to DC in August and me doing... goodness knows what for the next few years, we'll certainly meet less and less frequently. So this trip was wonderful. A lot of reminiscing, and a lot of philosophy. Nothing like deep talks about the meaning of existence over a pint of Guinness. Mmmmm... I love Guinness, it's dark and smooth, like proper chocolate.

Speaking of chocolate I think most of my budget for my day and a half in Belgium will be spent on sugar. Yum, can't wait.

Ireland redux

So I'm back in Ireland. I love this country, despite the fact that it's raining and sixty degrees. This time is fun however, because I'm here with Bach, an old friend. Tonight we are going to do a little town-painting. It's about time, as Amsterdam was peculiarly quiet. Most likely due to the fact that I was there with my parents. Not that it stopped my sister from going out with locals and not getting back until five in the morning.

For the last day and a half the two of us have been travelling with Bach's family, a surprisingly nice expirience. Yesterday we went to see this ancient (3000 BCE) burial site called New Grange, about an hour north of Dublin. Apparently it hasn't leaked since it's construction. The neolithic carvings were very cool, lots of swirls. One theory is that they were designed by schroom users. Makes some sense...

In any rate, it's been a really low key few days. Except for the bike ride into the country outside Amsterdam that I took with my Dad. In the Rain. On badly-sprung bikes. Still, I enjoyed it. Mostly.

Tuesday I leave Dublin to head to Brussels for a couple days before meeting my family again in Germany.

Family

So I met my parents and sister at the train station in Amsterdam today. It's really nice to see them again. I mean, I like how independent and grown-up I feel traveling around on my own and seeing things that they aren't seeing with me. My separate, adult life is beginning, but... family is like nothing else. The comfort and warmth that comes from sitting next to your little sister, even when she is falling asleep from jetlag, is something special.

There seem to waves on the canal now. The other nice thing about being with one's family is that they pay for things. After all, I would never be able to stay on a houseboat on my budget, but this is really cool. We have a garden room on the boat, with a retractable roof. Hopefully tomorrow it won't rain so much and we can actually open it up.

Freiburg

As usual, I completely overreacted yesterday. Everything was fine, I found a place to stay and ate much delicious bread. I got to Freiburg (pronounced fry-berg) just fine, found my friend, walked up a bell tower, a cathedral, and a watchtower, and am now happy full of snitchal (spelling is completely wrong, I know, I think there's a z in there somewhere...)

Tomorrow we're going to the Black Forest and hopefully Christina (the sister of my sister's foreign exchange student... yes, I think that's right...) will join us. With any luck, it won't rain as it did all day today. However, it's a nice change from the warm beautiful sunshine of Spain. (No, I'm not fooling myself either) Though truthfully, I don't mind the rain and all my clothes are cleverly fast drying.

Tonight MaryJo is taking me to a soviet bar, where they make their own vodka. Chocolate vodka, you and I have been strangers far too long. And I'm sure after tonight I'll never want to see you again.

Hateful

So Seville was fantastic, loved every part of it. However, the last 24 hours or so have been less wonderful. First, I had to pay an extra €70 just to leave Spain. Well good ridence, it probably worked better under fascism. So that was upsetting, but almost as upsetting was learning, when I finally did get to Paris, that every single train to either Switerzland or Germany was full. For the entire day. So here I am, stuck in Paris, having thrown away all my Paris information (map, locations of sleeping places, etc) on the assumption I wasn't returning. And so I have spent the last hour blindly walking, hoping to find a hostel close enough to the train station to be able to catch my 6:30 train out in the morning. Oh... and due to the fact that I've spent the last 24 hours travelling... I rather need a shower. So yeah. There you are. I'm really looking forward to joining my family on Monday.

End of Spain

So tomorrow I spend one night in Sevilla to sample proper Flamenco and then I spend a day and a half traveling to get to Basel, Switzerland, where I will crash for one night and then go into Germany to visit a friend studying there.

Just so you know.

It´s been a quiet day in Madrid. I wanted to be see a play tonight, but unfortunately, like most sensible cities, Madrid doesn´t have any theatre on Monday nights. So I went to the cinema instead. I could´ve seen a spanish film, but I wasn´t feeling quite up to it and saw an American (version original) one instead. Ah well, no one said I needed to give up my own culture in order to participate in others...

Yeah, not a great excuse is it? But then, I did enjoy it a lot, so maybe that´s excuse enough.

Madrid

My train got in at 7:30 this morning, I got a bed at my first choice hostel and walked towards my first free museum, the Renia Sofia. (You gotta love free museum Sundays) Everything would have been great if a guy heading home from a night of clubbing hadn´t decided that I was the woman of his dreams and refused to take a hint and shove off.

Granted, I didn´t handle the situation very well, but even men in Spain should know how to read the´"I´m not interested" signals.

Bah.

But I finally shook him off, wandered to the park, went back to my hostel, met some girls from Iowa and we went to the Prado museum and then got some incredibly tasty pizza. Often the restaurants turn out a great disappointment and I´m left wishing I had just stuck to bread and sausage, but this was good and the company was nice.

Men are annoying, especially when they follow you in the street. I miss my well behaved Englishmen...

Sleepy in Spain

I´m not sure what it is about this country, but I find myself willingly dreaming away the hours and even taking naps. Crazy. I spent last night in the small town of Tarragona, mostly interesting for their surviving Roman ruins. The hostel I went to originally seemed quite expensive, until I got to the room and discovered it was a single room with an ensuite bathroom. I was quite excited and after going down to the beach to swim in the Mediterranean Sea, I took an extra long shower. Showering in communal baths is fine, but doesn´t tend to lend itself towards luxury.

Most of the day was spent wandering aimlessly about the small and moderately charming town, sleeping, writing, or daydreaming. It was a good day.

Today I have returned to Barcelona in order to see the Picasso Museum, which I was too lazy to see earlier in the week and then I´m taking a night train to Madrid. I plan to visit Seville as well, but time is ticking on and I doubt that I´ll be able to visit Granada or any of the other Spanish towns I was considering. This time crunch is due to my desire to visit a friend in Germany before meeting my family in Amsterdam next Monday. My schedule is getting unusually full, since it looks like I´ll be meeting up with another friend between Amsterdam and Germany. I might either go to Ireland to meet him or he might come to the continent, we shall see...

Barcelona

There are many wonderful things about Barcelona. Tomorrow I will drink less Sangria and enjoy them more. Or perhaps not enjoy them more, but at least comprehend them. When they say Grande in this country, they obviously mean it.

Sadly I was unable to go to the craziest cathedral in Europe, despite it´s supposedly being open until eight because something was going on inside. Not sure what, my Spanish is very useful, but certainly not the awesome tool I would like it to be. So I will return again tomorrow to La Sagrada Familia and see just what all the fuss is about.

By the way, Night Trains- surprisingly comfortable.

,qn; itùs q zeird keyboqrd1

So, had this been an American keyboard, what I just typed would read: Man it's a weird keyboard!

Paris is growing on me, I wasn't sure I liked it when I got here, but it would take a harder heart than mine not to glow a little at the sight of the Notre Dame Cathedral rising above the river Seine.

I feel (or at least my feet do) that I've been everywhere, Eiffel Tower, Arc de Triumph, the Grand Arc in the industrial quarter. I've been to four museums and eaten two crepes. (yum)

Tonight I take a night train to Barcelona, where I'll probably spend the first day lounging around. I think my pace is too fast right now, I'm a bit concerned that I'll burn out if I don't slow down. Speaking of which, I think my next stop is a sidewalk café for expresso, which I learned to enjoy in London. See, I know travel would broaden my horizon: coffee, crazy...

France

Okay, this is weird, my blog site is in French. Luckily I know where all the right buttons are, so I don't need to worry about what they say.

I got to Paris without any trouble, other than being a bit sad to leave London. The last couple days were quite wonderful and it made going away much harder. However, the weather is much nicer this time than when I was here in January and for some reason the language barrier isn't as scary. Besides, most people speak english. Except the beggars, who have their sob stories written out on postcards and have learned just enough english to ask "do you speak english?" before putting it in your face. I was impressed enough with the effort involved to hand over a couple euros.

The trick with this money is that their 1 and 2 euros are coins and after years of not dealing with coins over 25 cents, I have this idea that coins aren't real money and are therefore open spending territory. But it's only after six euros have left my pocket on nonessentials that I stop and go, hey, that's sort of a lot of money when one is living on 50 a day...

Speaking of tight budgets, I really lucked out today; it being the first sunday of the month, all the museums are free! So I went to the Louvre (nice, but not life-changing), after that I was pretty arted-out, so I took a break and ate my lunch in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower. Then, refreshed, I went to the Museum d'Orsey- which was wonderful! All my favorite impressionist painters.

My feet are quite sore however, since I've decided to save money by walking everywhere. And while Paris isn't a really big city- it's big enough when you're walking everywhere, but that's the only way to really learn a city, by foot.

Tomorrow I plan to go to the Picasso Museum (there are two apparently, one in Barcelona as well) and go back to the Eiffel Tower to ride the elevator up. Tuesday night I'm taking a sleeper train to Barcelona (hopefully; it's my first eurrail ride, so I'm a little paranoid that it's all a lie and my many hundred-dollar ticket isn't worth the paper it's printed on. I should learn to control my paranoia at some point...)

Leaving London

So tomorrow I go under the channel to Paris. Goodbye sedimentary life in London. Hello life on the road. Will I make a good beat poet? Very likely not. Will I make a good traveller though? One does not need to write free-form poetry in order to travel light and cheap after all. (Though I think it helps) I am excited for my travels. I mean, of course I am. And I am starting to fret a bit here in London. The weather's not been great, the crowds are immense, etc.

However, I will miss this job. And what makes me saddest as I leave is the knowledge that even if I return to London as a visitor, I will never again have this job and I have never regreted leaving a job more. Perhaps part of that is the feeling that as soon as I do leave, all the really interesting stuff will happen. (You know it's true, it's always true.)

Still and all, I must leave and I'm sure I'll love it once I'm there. I just hope my cold gets better soon.

Rain rain go away

It's still wet. It's still cold. And I'm still sick. Hopefully Spain will be more pleasant than this and the sun will make me well again.

Museums

So as it's wet and miserable again (deep sighs of remorse), I went to a Museum yesterday instead of taking a walk through the Heath, which is what I really wanted to do. However, the museums in this town are fantastic. And the public ones are all free. Thank you Mayor of London. My two favorites are the British Museum (mummies and Greek pottery) and the Tate Britain (old oil paintings mostly). Yesterday I went to the Tate Modern, which is where they put all the art work post 1900, when they had to split the collection because it was too large to house only at the Tate Britain.

The Tate Modern building is artwork in itself. It's a renovated power station and you can tell. I had a good time, despite my general lack of interest in modern paintings. However, they had one really lovely Monet and some nice Picasso's. And a Rodin statue, so it was a worthwhile trip.

It's still quite damp today, so I'm not quite sure what I'm going to do with myself. Something I suppose. After all, I leave for Paris in less than a week now. (Though I sort of don't want to.)

Pirates!

So what does one do on a quiet Thursday night, a week before leaving London? One sees Pirates of the Caribbean of course. And thoroughly enjoys each stupid joke, excessive fight scene, and pretty shot of Orlando Bloom. Who is starring in his first West End show this summer, which I'll be able to see in August. Excellent. I'm interested to see if the kid's as wooden onstage as he is onscreen. Luckily he's usually cleverly cast in movie roles where he says little and looks nice.

Sunshine and Shakespeare!

So the sun is finally out, it's like last week never happened. Last night I went to Stratford-Upon-Avon to see Ian McKellen play King Lear. It was a very good show, which I appreciate since to see it I had to not only buy the ticket, but take a two-hour train there and back and spend the night at a B&B. Quite a bit of effort for a play, but then... I had thought it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I little thought when I bought this ticket 10 weeks ago that it would be touring to the Guthrie this fall.

Oh well... it makes a better story this way.

achoo

I meant yesterday to write a charming, well-worded piece about the riders and horses I saw traipsing down the road as I left for work. However, I was distracted from my purpose by an almost debilitating attack of hay fever allergies. Which is bizarre because I have never had a problem with hay fever, or indeed spring allergies at all. I'm feeling better today, but still not shipshape even after the antihistamines.

But enough about illness, the sun is FINALLY out and the sky is gorgeously blue.

Musicals

I'm bookending my week with Musicals. I haven't seen that many while I've been here. Mostly I suppose because I think of musicals the way I do movies: they'll always be there. So I tend to see more time-limited things. After all, why see Wicked (which will run for years) when I can see a new play that will only run a couple months and I might never have the chance see it again?

But this week is different. On Monday I saw "The Drowsy Chaperone" and was delighted. I always am, even when the musical's not very good (though this one wasn't bad at all), they are always delightful. However, Saturday's even more exciting- because I'm seeing "Lord of the Rings". Now, try not to think of it as a traditional musical. There won't be tap-dancing elves or high-kicking orcs. It's more a epic play with a lot of music I think. There's a lot of buzz already about it and it's only been playing a week. It's still in previews and will be for several more weeks to make sure the set works. (The set, with over 20 moving components is said to be the best part of the show) Greg wanted to take me to Opening Night, but since I'll be in Spain that night, we decided I should go to a preview. Whether it's any good or not, I'm really intrigued.

Weather

So the weather, which has been so lovely, so much of the time, has finally caught up with me. The whole last week has been chilly, grey, and rainy. It's raining right now in fact. It complicated my plans to go to Hampstead Court this weekend. I don't want to bother with a day trip when it's damp and miserable. Day trips are stressful enough, what with train schedules and so forth. So instead I did a bit of shopping (it's so nice to shop in pounds and not a dollar conversion) and discovered the British Film Institute. The BFI is really fun, it has a film archive where you can explore British film for free, and all sorts of weird things. I watched a bunch of silent shorts, Jude Law's film debut, and random other things. But they also have three movie theatres in the building, art pictures mostly. I saw "McCabe and Mrs Miller" last night, a Robert Altman (of MASH fame) film. What a crazy director, but he makes beautiful work.

Then I went to a coffeeshop to finish the play I was reading. An old man saw me reading it and came over to start a conversation about it. Which quickly turned into one the weirdest conversations I've had in quite some time. I find myself having quite a few in-depth conversations with strangers over here. It's a lot of fun actually. Like the one several weeks ago, with a Turkish man who was telling me about the torture practices used by the police.

This weekend I also bought my train ticket to Paris, so I now have physical proof that I am indeed leaving London. Which is both wonderful and sad. It's been a remarkable few months, living and working in London. Life-changing.

Chichester

It's a mad word, and a mad world come to that. I went down to this town, called Chichester (accent on the "i" oddly enough) with my boss to see "The Last Confession" a new play by a New York Lawyer, who's never written a play before. It's about the Roman Catholic church, the power play among the bishops, and the suspicious death of John Paul the first, who was found dead only 33 days after he became pope.

It could very easily have been awful, but it was actually quite good. Not brilliant, but I enjoyed it. I had a good time. And as I become more and more critical, as my understanding of theatre deepens and my expectations simultanously rise and lower... it's quite nice to simply see a show I just enjoy.

Plus there was a party afterwards. I chatted with several people, it went all right. I had a nice time, but I feel that to truly enjoy these events, I need to be a little more established, or simply know people. That would be good. Knowing people.

Cambridge

On Sunday I went down to Cambridge with the whole family. It was really nice getting a tour from someone who went there. I got wonderful anecdotes and stories, architectual lectures, and bits of history. I say the corridor where Newton calculated the speed of sound. I stood on the Bridge over the river Cam. Give it a second, it took me about thirty.

I watched people punting (or more often, trying to punt) down the Cam river, wandered through many-styled buildings, with all the styles older than my country. It is a very weird feeling walking through old cities here. London is pretty comfortable, because most of it burnt down and so the majority of buildings are less than 200 years old. Cambridge didn't have that. There were newer buildings of course, but there were also buildings, or parts of them, that dated back to Henry the 8th, or even older.

I felt quite envious to be honest, I would have loved to spend three years at a school like that, not only one that's aestically pleasing, but where you only go to lectures for fun and your real education is done either one-on-one or in very small groups. But before I get too regretful, I must remember that I didn't even have the grades and test scores to get into Macalester, so it's silly to think I would've gotten into Cambridge.

It was a lovely day however, Spring is here with a vengence. Everything's blooming, it smells amazing, and the colors are majestic.

Offers

It's a terribly exciting time here in the office. Well... for nerds like me anyway. What's happening is that there are four shows being cast. It's a real delight hearing the pitches made to agents, the genial good humour, the side-stepping, the half-promises- fascinating. We've made an offer to a major (if slightly ten years ago) hollywood star. Of course, it may not happen, but it's all quite exciting. This job is so interesting.

Winchester

It's been longer than usual since my last entry. The last week has been spent exploring my new part of town, going to the theatre, and waking up at the ungodly hour of 7:30 every morning. Of course it's not actually an ungodly hour. Properly it's quite a godly hour, since it's when the nuns serve breakfast. Still, not a time I like to be awake.

Yesterday however, I broke from my normal pattern (or lack of) and took a bus to Winchester, a charming cathedral town. There's not much there to speak of, other than the grave of Jane Austen and some fifteen miles away, a musuem located in the house she wrote most of her novels in. There was also some rather nice ruins of a castle that I wandered through. Mostly however, it was a simple literary pilgramage.

Oh for cute

So as I was walking towards the heath this morning (in which I got deliciously lost and ended up in the most bizarre part of town when I emerged 40 minutes later) I was surrounded by these adorable little boys dressed in buttercream trousers and sweater vests over crisp white shirts. And they were all carrying cricket bats, hurrying towards the school grounds. I live in a very nice part of town indeed.

The Move

I'm feeling quite homesick right now. Perhaps it's because my program has ended and all the American friends I'd made have left. Perhaps it's just the exhaustion from having to pack up and move across town. Perhaps it's the awkwardness caused by living in a convent filled with nuns who keep early hours. Or perhaps it's the email I got this morning from Michelle saying that she isn't yet certain if she's going to hire me for Richard III. If that's the case, next fall is going to be dull indeed. In fact, I don't know what I'd do since I've already decided I don't want to take a full load of courses. Perhaps I'll have to get a real job.

However, I spent a pleasant weekend, despite the moving bit. The new area of town I'm in is a short walk from the most beautiful heath. Yes, an actual heath, full of twisty paths, windblown hills, lots of trees, and a ridiculous number of golden labs. Honestly, it's like no other breed of dog exists. So I had a lovely long walk this morning after waking for breakfast at 7:30. In the morning. That's just weird. I don't do mornings generally. I mean, work doesn't start here until 10:30, sometimes 11.

Yesterday I bought a book. I know, a silly expense, but sometimes you just have to buy something for no other reason than that you want it. Then I sat against a tree in the heath and read for several hours. Of course, this would have been a better idea had I not been wearing khakis (khakis which now have the most glorious collection of grass stains), still, worth it.

Travel thoughts

So my incredibly expensive, but completely worthwhile eurail pass arrived today. This means that I do actually have to leave London, a scary thought. Still, I can hardly complain as I've been looking forward to this trip for... well, ever.

Amusingly enough, I may actually be staying in London again after my trip. Pascale has asked me if I want to housesit for her and Greg while they take their summer vacation at the end of August. It would mean more time in London (a very good thing) but also that I wouldn't get home until the 29th or 30th of August (a slightly insane thing) That would put my time away from home at just under eight months. Still... this seems to show that they don't want me to leave any more than I do.

I am still hoping there might be a job offer in all of this.

At the end of the day though, the final decision is not actually mine, but my employer this fall, i.e. the Director of the show I'm working on (a project which is just exciting enough to tempt me back home). If she needs me before August 30th, then I will obviously be returning home as originally planned.

Since when is seven months not enough time for a vacation? This is ridiculous! And yet so horribly exciting!

Housing solved

You can all stop worrying, for I now have a place to live in London for these extra weeks. You can stop worrying and start laughing, because dear old Jenna is going to be living in a Convent.

Yes, with Nuns and everything.

I think it'll be fun. At least it's safe and cheap. Great area of town. My only concern is the slightly too early curfew they have. Not only will there be no late partying for little ol' me, but it might be hard to make it back in time after the theatre. Still, I guess I'll just have to work things out as it goes along.

Oh! And I had a date last night. With an Englishman. It was nice, but not life-altering. He was very normal and normal's something I don't deal with very often. Still, it's always a pleasure to meet new people who don't come from the same place I do. It's weird how many Americans I end up talking to.

Photos

Possibly the farthest point west in Great Britain, this is Wales, looking out over the Irish Sea.
The highlands of Scotland are really truly beautiful.
Finally, I set foot on the Aran Islands, setting of my play last fall.
Enjoying a pint at the top of the Guinness Brewery in Dublin.
Me, Kelsey, and Keely inside Dover Castle.
Me in one of the best parts of Bath, where a lot of Jane Austen novels are set.
Stonehenge, back in January

Insanity

So, of course I'm so happy that I can stay longer and that they like me well enough to pay me. However, this staying on longer requires me to find a place to stay. So I've been in a whirlwind of activity the last couple days, attempting to find a reasonable place to live, in a reasonable area, at a reasonable price.

I looked at a place last night, which is in the same neighborhood I'm in now and is quite nice, except that it's a bit more than I want to spend. This afternoon I'm going to be looking at a much cheaper place in a new area. They're all flatshares, so the roommate is something else to consider, or more commonly, roommates... The one today is a single mother with a young child, who's happy to keep the rent low, especially if I can babysit now and then...

Well, we shall see. If worst comes to worst, I can always stay in youth hostels, but I'll be doing that a lot this summer. I sort of wanted something more stable while I'm here.

Sore Feet and Big Smiles

My friend Lisa is here. She's staying with a friend she met when she was here studying three years ago, but has spent most of her time with me, since her friend's working a lot. So we've seen a lot of theatre, I even saw two shows a second time, because they were so good I wanted her to see them.

That's not all we've been doing however.

Today we went shopping and I bought a very lovely red dress from French Connection. Cost quite a bit, but it's a nice classic dress and should be wearable for many years.

What makes the morning shopping trip all the more impressive however, is the fact that I was dancing until five in the morning last night. It was so much fun, but I am so sleep deprived. AND Lisa wants to go dancing again tonight. Well... we'll see if I can manage it. Right now she's off seeing Equus, a play that I was not willing to see twice. And tomorrow we're planning an Easter Picnic in Hyde Park, I already made pasta salad and bought some wine.

Life is hard.

Well my goodness

It's been a strange few days over here. Yesterday I woke with a nagging sore throat and it seemed to be heralding something worse as last night I crawled in bed at 10pm. Now, anyone who knows me knows that something pretty odd has to be going on to send me to bed that early.

However, not to fear, I'm taking lots of vitamins, eating oranges, etc. Hopefully I can stop this before it becomes serious. After all, my friend is here for the weekend, and it's hard to shop when you're coughing.

On a more positive note, Monday night I saw "Equus", the Harry Potter play as it's known to many. Yes, the boy was naked, and no, it was not a very good production. Still, I knew that going in and figured, even if it's terrible, I should see it for the historical value. And that would save me the effort of reading the play at some point, as I would absolutely have to do.

It's Easter holidays over here right now, so Greg and Pascale's daughter has been studying in the office this week. It's been really fun talking to her, because she has a new perspective. I've talked to locals my age, but she's 16, so she's in a different position and we've been comparing perspectives on our countries, as well as weighing the pros and cons of our various school systems. In the end, I think I prefer our secondary schools, but I really like their university system. Then again, I've only heard about the best universities over here. Perhaps I would have enjoyed Harvard as much I think I would've liked Cambridge.

In fact, I probably would have hated Cambridge in the end. I love the way they teach over there, in small seminars and one-on-one's with the profesor, but from what I hear, the attitude is still very elitist and at heart, I am a Marxist.

I'm getting tired, tired of trying to peacefully co-exist with five other girls. I'm afraid the atmosphere is starting to get quite catty and I don't know what to do anymore. No doubt I'm adding to it, but so much of the nasty things we're doing to each other seem to be sub-conscious. Still, there's only two and a half more weeks, then I get to go try and co-exist with somebody else. Who that is, I'm still not sure, but if Pascale hasn't found me a place by the end of this week, I'm going to start calling people from the flatshare website I found. I'll figure it out. Not to worry.

Cricket

It's probably time I discussed this new interest of mine. It's rather bizarre really, because I never follow sports. However, I can't help but be rather fascinated by this strange British game. Cricket is apparently the most followed sport in the world, but only by Britain and its former colonies. Of course, India's made up of a billion people- and most of them are cricket fans.

Right now the cricket world cup is on. It's taking place in the West Indies, and we're now in the second stage, where the worst teams have been beaten and we're down to eight. Everyday at 2:30 the games start and whenever I'm at work, Greg and I take frequent breaks to check the scores on cricinfo.com. And of course, I've gotten a number of lectures on how the game is played, its history, and its general appeal. I've also gotten a promise of being taken to a game later this spring.

Cricket is... a little like baseball, but only a little. There are two batters up at a time, but the ball only gets thrown to one side. The two sides are marked by the wicket, which is a made up of three sticks of wood. To gain points, the batters must run from one wicket to the other, switching places, and if an odd number of runs happen, a different batter is up. The batters play until a wicket is "broken", which means the fielding team hits it with the ball. Then the current batter is out. But a batter can stay in play for a very long time if he's good. The wickets get hit ten times before the side gets out and each team bats twice.

However, this is in traditional cricket, which can go on for up to FIVE DAYS. For the world cup, they limit it to one day by using overs, which is six pitches (or bowls as they call them) So the fielding team throws 50 overs, meaning the bowlers throw 300 balls in an inning (though I'm not sure they call them innings), unless the other team is so bad that they get all ten wickets broken before the end.

Understand? No, I don't quite either. However, I'm having a good time trying to.

What is happiness?

Is it a feeling, a state of being, or an unattainable dream? Of course, if what I'm feeling lately isn't happiness, than I'm not sure anyone can feel it. I find myself overwhelmed with joy as I walk down a sidewalk, or sit on the couch in my flat. Unable for a moment to do anything but be filled with happiness.

I worked hard to get here. I worked well in school to get into college. Managing somehow to also fit in outside activities, friendships, family, and the occasional paying job. I spent my summers working at fairly low-paying jobs, sitting inside day after day to get enough money for the next stage of my life. I got to college and I worked to get all my classes done. I threw myself into theatre. But always, always it was with this feeling of... trudging forward.

This was where it was leading. All the stupid jobs, all the hours of stress. It led me here and now my life is folding out in front of me. This trip has made my career I think. Can all your dreams come true in one year? I mean, this fall I'm going to be working for the most exciting theatre company in Minneapolis. Then I graduate. And even if for some reason I don't come back to London to work (though Greg has promised to help me get a visa), I met a producer from New York on Monday, and Greg though I would be able to assist them on the American tour of Othello autumn 2008. Can you imagine, being 23 and already being a part of an equity tour? I'm so happy that I honestly don't know what to do with myself.

Plus! My friend Lisa is coming today to visit me!!!! Yay friends!

Wales

It was a long weekend, tiring, but wonderful. Wales is... a little bit like Northern Minnesota actually. Not a lot, but there were moments I fancied myself on Lake Superior. It's a strange place, not verdantly beautiful like Western Ireland, nor breathtaking like the Scottish Highlands, but it was lovely in its own way.

We (Kelsey, Keely, and I) walked a lot, along the sea coast, up to a waterfall in the hills, through a slate quarry, and tried, but failed to find a castle. My feet are rather sore and I've come to the sad conclusion that my shoes are worn down to the point of being more trouble than they're worth. I'll have to go buy another pair.

It was a fulfilling trip, and a nice counterpoint to all the cities I will be seeing on my trip this summer. That is, if I can convince myself to leave London. (Don't worry, I will)

Sizwe Banzi

So last night I saw the play in English that I saw in French when I went to Paris that first weekend. It was fabulous to finally understand what it was I had seen and I spent a lot of the show trying to connect the things I had seen with what I was seeing now. This version was also good, though not as well directed, of course.

The most amusing thing was that during the French version, there was a part of the show that I almost fell asleep during. I thought at the time that it was my own fault on account of the language issue. However, last night, I started yawning during the EXACT SAME PART! In the end, I can only believe that is a boring part of the play in any language.

Luck of the Irish

My St. Patrick's day was pretty low key. I got home fine from Stratford and recovered from travel. Or tried to, our flat is such a mess right now, it takes all my energy to keep myself from screaming at my filthy roommates and throwing all the clothes and papers laying about into a corner. And possibly torching them.

Anyway, I did not destroy anyone's property, instead I went with a less messy roommate to find an Irish night out. We ended up on the opposite side of town in this hole-in-the-wall pub where we got discounted guinness and watched Ireland trounce Pakistan in the Cricket World Cup. I'm quite fascinated by Cricket, I may have to find myself I ticket to a game sometime this spring.

Land of Shakespeare

So here I am in the Stratford-Upon-Avon Public Library. I got in yesterday after a four hour drive (which the website said was only 2 and a half, it's a good thing I took the early coach). The town is delightful, the word charm was created for places like these. I walked around a little last night before play number one, a puppet show depicted Shakespeare's poem "Venus and Adonis" which was read by an RSC actress.

Tonight is the main play however, "Coriolanus", one of the Roman plays, of which I know nothing. My lodging, the Croft Guest house, was perfectly plateable and served a very filling English Breakfast, complete with tomato. The breakfast was a good idea as I trekked out of town to visit Anne Hathaway's Cottage, where Shakespeare's wife lived before their marriage. The walk was beautiful, as English Spring is even more evident outside of the City. I bought a multiple pass, so after visiting the cottage I walked the mile back into town to visit 1) His birthplace and family home 2) The house of his son-in-law 3) The house of his grandson-in-law and finally 4) His grave in the Holy Trinity Church.

At the church I bought a postcard that has a picture of the inscription upon his tombstone, which reads: Good Friend for Jesus sake forbeare to digg the dust encloased heare. Blese be the man who spares thes stones and curst be he who moves my bones.

Apparently Shakespeare was foreseeing the tourism trade that began as early as the 18th century. Even John Adams visited the birthplace in the lates 1700's.

It is a lovely town, but completely based on the tourism trade. There is no real reason to come back once having seen the exhibits except perhaps for more theatre.

Producing

So Greg, my boss, says I would be a wonderful producer. He keeps teasing that I should just stay and work for him. I would be good at producing, it's the kind of job I'm made for, juggling projects, finding the right scripts, helping the writer polish them, finding the best talent, knowing what will sell, sweet-talking investors, making connections. I am not terribly good at friendships, but I am very good at small talk, at making people feel welcome and of interest. I know good work when I see it. True, I can be too blunt and I would need to learn better who I can be honest with and when I should just say the nice thing. I must learn not to discuss the show while still in the theatre.

I am so in love with this city and the work happening. Not all of it is brilliant, a lot of it is painfully old-fashioned, but that just makes me feel challenged. New York terrifies me and I think I would out-grow Minneapolis very quickly. That, or get too comfortable and never stretch myself. In London I could grow, the challenge is here, but not the terror. Of course, I love directing. It's what fills my soul, it's what I think about when my mind wanders... but I may not be good enough. If I am to be a director, I want to be brilliant. If I can't be brilliant, there's no point. I think I could be brilliant at producing, but I have to try for directing brilliance first, or I will regret it my whole life.

Greg is coming to Minneapolis next winter. His friend is acting at the Guthrie. He says that if I have a project going at the time he'll come see it, check out if I'm any good as a director. I can't help but think Talent Scout, which is a little silly. Still, we'll see.

Return

It was a lovely trip. I got to Inishmore, but unfortunately not Inishmaan- so I may have to go back this summer when it's not so insanely windy. Dublin was a bit disappointing, but Galway was lovely. It rained the last day in Ireland, which was a pity, but our two days in Scotland were almost perfect. Sam and I took a highlands tour and that was a lot of fun. Our guide was a lot of fun and the view was incredible, the highlands are definately not over-rated.

However, I'm quite happy to be back, travel is very exhausting, especially traveling with others, because you have to be careful not to push your agenda too far or on the other hand, not offer enough suggestions. Still, we parted on the best of terms and we grew very close over the trip. Though to be honest, I'm very glad that I'm traveling alone this summer.

Guinness!

There are of course other reasons to visit Dublin. The cold drizzle for instance. Or the ugly squat buildings. The food is, to be fair, wonderful, but pricey. Dublin is certainly showing the signs of increased prosperity, which doesn't help my trip budget. We did manage to book a second night in the hostel we stayed in last night, though we're going to have to swallow the deposit on the hotel- but only the deposit since we said, very truly, that it was much farther than the website had led us to expect and they waved the 50% cancellation price. The place we're staying tonight is half a block away from the bus station that will take us to the West Coast.

The true delight of our day and a half here however, has been the Guinness Storehouse. We were unable to see the brewery, since they guard their secrets quite jealously, but the museum was interesting (I now know more about beer than I will ever find useful, but knowledge is always good) and it finished with a free pint at the top of the seventh floor, possibly the tallest point in Dublin, which a 360 degrees window. Incredible. The city was not breath-taking, but it was attractive seen from that height. The colors are nice, but it's hardly London.

We also took a short tour through the Christ Church Cathedrel, but honestly, this is possibly my sixth cathedrel and I'm sort of getting bored with old religious buildings. The most impressive thing about this one however, was the beautifully tiled floor. Anyway, tomorrow I'll be in the Aran Islands. Finally!

Ireland

I'm off to Ireland and Scotland for a week. I'll do my best to update, but I'm not sure where I'll find internet connections. I'm finally going to see the island of Inishmaan, after spending many months there in my mind while directing my play. I'm so excited!

I went to my first (and no doubt only) football match this weekend. The crowds were fascinating to watch, but I got bored fairly quickly and ended up leaving at halftime. The rest of the weekend was quiet but mostly pleasant, except for travel planning. My friend Samantha and I are going to Ireland and Scotland for spring break and we were trying to make plans and book hostels yesterday on a very slow internet connection and I couldn't figure out how to call Ireland from my cell phone. It was not a good couple of hours. We're meeting in a couple of hours at CAPA, where the internet connection is at least not wireless. Anyway, the trip should be fun, even if the planning isn't.

The British Museum

Yesterday my professor called in sick, so I went to the British Museum instead of class. It's an incredible building, but there is so much there. I looked at some of the Greek items, the pottery was incredible, so much more beautiful than the photos show. But after every 30-40 minutes I'd have to take a break, to mindlessly browse through the gift shop, just to give my eyes a break. The visual stimulation was too great. I saw some other things too, but I'll have to go back, because I saw barely a fraction of what they have.

Last night I took the train to Richmond, a sort of a suburb, to see a play with Martin Freeman (The Office, Hitchhiker's Guide). Thanks to my anoymous donor, I was able to buy a program too. The play was not great, but the performances were.

Musical Theatre

So last night I met the man who wrote the lyrics to Phantom of the Opera and unexpectedly, later that night I began to remember my show that I sort of wrote lyrics for.

I can't help but grin maliciously when I think that here I am, working in a production office, for a man who knows Cameron Macintosh, who could get me an introduction. And if Nick hadn't messed up our project so completely as to make me wince even to remember my connection to it- I would have been able to shop it around.

Of course, it probably would have come to nothing, but... I still feel as if I'm getting a little bit of revenge.

Press Night

I went to my first opening night, or press night as they call it here. The show was funny, a really stupid script, but brilliantly directed and acted. Well designed too. After the show, which I went to with my boss and his wife, we stood outside the theatre watching famous people get molested by crazy people with autograph books. I saw Sir Ian McKellen. He's a lot shorter than I expected.

Then we went to the party. It was an interesting experience. I was a little shy at first, feeling out-of-place and even like an usurper. I mean, what right had I? An American student, to be here? With all these real theatre artists? However, after a couple free glasses of wine I began to chat with people and realized that similar to back home, it's always easier to talk to new people when we share a similar field. I didn't stay too long however, I left when Greg and Pascale did. If I go to another one however, I think I'll stay longer. By the end I was getting comfortable. Of course, I don't stay out late very often because I worry about getting home, because once the underground closes, it's all much more complicated- night buses and so forth.

It was a good time and I hope I get to go to a second one.

Grief

This weekend someone I knew was killed by a drunk driver. And I am here, unable to share this grief with anyone who knew him in a personal way. I mean, we weren't really chose, but someone like Chase Korte is impossible to forget and I will never stop regretting the lose of a major talent. Due to the stupidity of someone who decided to get in their car after drinking, we have lost one of the greatest actors of my generation. Not to mention a truly wonderful and unique individual. I so wish I was home right now, even though everyone here has been just wonderful, I just wish I was with friends.

St. Paul's

This morning I went to service at St Paul's Cathedral. It was wonderful. I got off the tube with the two girls who invited me along and as we came up, we heard the bells chiming in a slightly chaotic way. There were so many bells peeling at so many different notes that it was almost overwhelming, but still beautiful. We entered this gorgeous building, with so many windows, letting in light that hit the gold on the ceiling frescos and made them blaze. The choir was all-male and there must have been over thirty of them, including about a dozen little boys hardly old enough to read, much less latin- quite something.

In such a huge space, they had to mic the speakers and as the sermon and prayers were read, you'd hear it from the speaker, but the sound would also echo off the ceiling fifty feet or so above you and surround you in this warmth of sound. And then there would be a pause and a perfect hush would fall before the next sentence was spoken. All in all, it was very nice, though the sermon wasn't as good as the ones back home.

Baking woes

I wanted to bake tonight. But there are so many problems involved with adapting one of my american recipes for here. For one, I have almost no supplies. No measuring cups, no measuring spoons, not even a mixing bowl and I borrowed the cake pans from the girls upstairs. Then the ingredients have different names. Not able to find cornstarch today, I bought arrowroot powder, hoping that it would have the same effect. The oven is a) in celcius and b) convection style which means that I have no idea how to time anything. The sugar is weird, the butter is slightly different. On top of all that, I managed to cut my finger on a cake pan! I have never had so much trouble with an old recipe.

I mean, I managed to make the bars and they taste okay, but it's NOT THE SAME. Wednesdays are frustrating, I'm glad this one is almost over.

Shakespeare

I walked to the Old Vic theatre this afternoon. It took a couple hours. It was perfect. The sun was shining, there was just enough cold to make my cheeks sting a little as I walked along the River Thames. I had already seen the play I was going to (Twelfth Night, my favorite Shakespearan Comedy), but it had affected me so strongly the first time that I had to see if it could have the same effect twice. Of course, it didn't. One never gets the same feeling twice and while the seat I was in this time was actually better, it was less magical to view it straight on than up high way to the side. Still, it was wonderful, just not quite magical. At the intermission I went and bought a ticket the evening show.

No, I wasn't seeing it for the third time. Twelfth was running in Rep with Taming of the Shrew, definately not my favorite. Still, they had done such interesting things as an all male cast with my favorite show that I wanted to see what they would do with what is possibly my least favorite. It was... exquistly done. The acting was strong and the concept itself, the period they placed it in, the direction was clear, and so forth. But I still, three hours later, feel ill. Because, this play is supposed to be funny. It is a comedy. It is terrifying and they pushed the horror so far. Petruchio basically tortures his wife into submission, starves her, deprives her of sleep, force marches her, denys her clean clothes, humilates her, and what was really sickening and brilliant was that the more he hurt, the more she would cling to him.

On the way out, I overheard one young woman say that the play didn't bother her, because as a "modern" woman, she knows that the play is dated, that it was "then". The thing is, this play is just as contemporary as any of his works, it is "now". There are still women being treated this badly and there are women who accept it and come to believe that they deserve it.

I'm getting chills. I'm not sure I'll be able to sleep well tonight, despite the two hour walk. And this, this is the reason I see theatre, this is why I spend most of my money on it, most of my free time, why my roommates go to the pub and I go alone to the theatre. Because when I feel this intensely, I know that I am alive. Theatre shakes me up. Not always, but when it happens- it is a life-affirming occurance. We all need reminders now and then, that there is more to life than our everyday routine, that there are wonderful, terrible, real things outside our bubble. That humanity is capable of the exquiste love and the most horrible brutality, and sometimes, those two are frightening combined. And for me, well, I prefer my truth given to me in fiction.

Walking

One of my favorite things to do when I have free time is point myself in a diretion and walk, occasionally turning down a new street when the mood strikes. Nothing can give you the taste, the essence of a city like a long walk. One night I was waiting for a play to start, so I wandered away from the main drag of Leicester Square (an area much like 42nd street in New York) and within five minutes I was walking past porn shops, another five minutes brought swanky restuarants.

When I take walks near my flat, which is in a rather nice area, I find the generic victorian tract houses giving way to the occasional even older church, a fenced in park, or a modern complex for shopping. Everything is right on top of everything else here. Groceries stores on almost every corner, an indian restuarant next door to every grocery store. On Monday I walked with my boss to a meeting and we went through Soho and Chinatown and down into the main theatre district in a ten minute walk. I'm so used to sprawly cities, cities that stretch out like a man in the desert, reaching out another inch, dragging the rest of himself behind; this city is huge but pulled in, like a sumo wrestler sitting cross-legged and hunched over. It's probably obvious that I haven't finished my first cup of tea, I usually try to keep my metaphors more aesthetic.

There's one more bit to tell that has nothing to do with walking, other than I may be walking here longer than I'd thought. My boss talked to me yesterday about possibly employing me for a month or six weeks after my program ends. Since I got a six-month visa on a whim, this could work. It would, after all, be slightly more fitting to my talents than farming organically, though that might still happen. Well, we shall see.

Tuesday

Just thought I'd check in, things are moving along here, still loving my internship. This week I'm seeing five plays and only paying for two out my own pocket. Though I suppose technically the ones for my class I am paying for out of class fees. Oh well. I'm managing to stay within my budget, quite well actually, last week I spent fifty pounds less than I'd budgeted. I'm trying to shave another twenty this week, but it's hard to say what expenses crop up. I still want to buy a radio, it's weird to not have music when I'm getting ready in the morning.

The Globe

Can I just say again how much I love my internship? Yesterday we started the day with a meeting, or we thought the meeting was yesterday, the guy we were meeting with thought it was Monday, so as it was we just had coffee and talked over budgets. I spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon installing the new version of Norton (stupid program) and typing up contact lists.

At 3:30 we caught a tube to the Globe for a production meeting. On the way there Greg gave me the history of the reconstruction of the theatre- done mostly through the sheer tenacity of the american actor Sam Wannamaker. We got there and he gave me a tour of the theatre.

I got to walk on the stage.

After the production meeting, which got really exciting when Greg started making the hard deals, some one pulled out champagne. When asked why, the answer was "Friday". So I had a couple glasses of the bubbly and then my eight hour day was over. Fantastic.

Ups and Downs

So this second full week is a little uneven. I've seen two very disappointing shows, which shouldn't have bothered me as much as it did. I'm used to seeing not good shows, I see them all the time at home. And logically, I know that not all the plays I see here will be good, but it still annoyed me.

On the other hand, my internship is going great. Yesterday I saved a database. Or, helped save a database. The office had recently moved and there was suddenly a desperate search for the christmas card database. The only copy was eventually found on a- are you ready?- floppy disk. Now, the only computer in the office with a working floppy drive was an ancient old laptop which could not burn cds or connect to the a zip drive. So I said, why not email it to the other computer? A great idea, but complicated by the fact that this ancient computer had no ethernet connection. So we unplugged the fax machine and- are you sitting down?- dialed up. I know. Crazy. However, the email got sent and I immediately put this database on a cd. Then we all breathed a little easier. The last two hours of yesterday were spent browsing at the theatre bookstore near-by and gossiping about people in the business.

I also learned that British actors are as desperate for good feed-back as American ones when my boss and I ran into an actor from a show we'd both seen and I assured him that his American accent had been very good. And it was actually. That had been one of the good shows. I've seen seven shows so far, which isn't bad when you consider that I've only been here for two weeks and four of those seven were good, so I'm not doing too badly.

History

Today I and all five of my flatmates went to Dover and Canterbury. We didn't have much time in Dover, so all we saw was Dover Castle, but that was probably the best thing I've done as of yet. We marched up a hill and came to the entrance of the castle wall. First, we took a tour of the secret wartime tunnels, used during World War 2 for the coordination of sea and air attacks. Hundreds of workers were cooped up in these tunnels built during the Napoleanic Wars for soldier barracks. Then we wandered around the castle itself. The keep was awe-inspiring, over 800 years old. One could feel the history oozing off the walls. I kept touching the stones just to see if I could take that sense of oldness into myself. I kept taking pictures of the place, mostly, I must admit, because I kept going: that would be a great example for set designers if I ever do a Shakespearean History play. Silly Jenna. The weather co-operated too, bright and sunny and even the wind was enjoyable.

After the castle we caught another bus to Canterbury, where we explored the cathedral there, seeing the place where the arch-bishop Thomas Becket was murdered. I wandered around, a little over-whelmed and I wondered if I had grown up attending a church like this: seeing a testiment of man's ability to build for the glory of God, walking up steps worn in grooves by the crawling of centuries of pilgrams, looking up two hundred feet to the curved stone pillars to the beautiful domed ceiling- if in that case, I would have been more open to religion, less apt to doubt. If, in essence, I would have been a believer. I'll never know I suppose, but I probably would have enjoyed Sundays less.

After the Cathedral visit we found ourselves with three hours to kill. We had a leisurely dinner, but still had to occupy ourselves for another hour. We tried sitting in a parking ramp, but a couple of guards kicked us out. And then they followed us to McDonald's where we quietly sat with a couple of coffees. Honestly, aren't there more dangerous people to keep an eye on than six shivering girls waiting for a bus?

All in all, the day was wonderful, tiring, but wonderful.

Rocks and Water

Today I got up an ungodly early hour in order to see some rocks and a bit of water. In other words we went to Stonehedge and Bath- which were wonderful. Stonehedge was elegant and inspiring, though I would have preferred to see it at sunset.

Bath was a beautiful, old city, with all the buildings made of limestone. I loved it. Anyway, must vacate computer, more later.

Internship of Dreams

It's going to be hard, confusing, and totally amazing. At least, that's the feeling I got in the interview yesterday. The executive director, Gary, assumed I knew a lot more about British theatre practices and people than I actually did. I should probably do some research today. However, it's a three person office and from the conversation, it seemed like I would be getting all sorts of interesting tasks. Not only that, but they plan to bring me to many shows and introduce me to important people. Like Mark Rylance, Artistic Director of the Globe! I couldn't be happier with the internship.

I did run into my first major culture issue however. They charge for theatre programs! They wanted two and a half pounds for a one last night and after asking another theatre goer, I was told this is universal in the city. I certainly can't afford that, it's an extra five dollars a show. My goal is to see 50 shows. You do the math, it makes me too upset. Oh well, postcards are an adequate substitute, at least those are free- you can't really charge for promotion materials, can you? So I'll have something to remember each show.

Paris!

Well, the trip didn't really require an exclaimation point... I was there for less than 24 hours, but once I knew that I COULD see a Peter Brook production I had to do it. So I bought a ticket on a website in French, still, credit card number is universal, booked a ticket on the chunnel train, got a hostel room and went the next afternoon. The play was amazing- I understood none of the dialouge, but the the pacing, the movement, the way actors used their bodies in sync with their voices, the lack of set... everything was perfect, Brook is a genius. That is what I aspire to, only in English.

The rest of Paris was... well, I wasn't there long enough to make a full judgement, some things I liked, others I didn't. I 've never spent so much on water in my life, but chocolate and a crossiant makes the most perfect breakfast and the city is beautiful- as long as you always look ten feet up and higher. Yet, the metro is a much more efficiant system than the london underground and the streets are better laid out.

All considered, I was happy to be back in London, though the four hours of walking I did today in Paris has taken it's toll. It's only 9:30 here and I'm ready to crawl into bed.

Sights, sounds, smells, and exhaustion

I've been in London now for just over seven hours. It's amazing, a mixture of old and new, with flashes of things that I think I recognize from this city or that, but then I realize that no, it's all completely different. The air smells different, the traffic makes a different sound (as well as moving frighteningly fast in a different direction), and everything is brick- or seems to be. I love brick buildings, but even their modern designs look beautiful to me, far more than most modern architecture back home.

How much of this adoration is coming from the fact that I haven't slept in twenty-four hours and not much even the night before. Still, the slight headache allows me to wander around in an aimless and content way, getting thoroughly lost in the process. However, I did find this internet cafe, even if I now have an overriding urge to go wash my hands.

Here we go

So it's time to take off soon. My plane leaves in...(checking watch) just over five hours. I'm packed, but ready is another matter. I am excited, but it's hard to be excited for something you have no frame of reference for. I'm going to London. It's too big to understand right now. Hopefully I'll be able to understand it in smaller pieces once I'm over there.
I'm really leaving. It is actually happening. Wow. I am so happy.