So, first two days of class are now successfully under my belt. Ha! It’s so weird that it’s only Tuesday, I feel like I’ve been here a lot longer.
My school is roughly two miles from my flat, so my day begins every morning with a brisk walk through Regents Park at 8:15 every morning. Or not so brisk, many of the people in the group are slow walkers; and this is coming from me! I take tiny steps. Apparently, it’s a traction issue, some of the Californians are unused to frost. Now it’s hovering around 40-50º, though, so frost isn’t really a problem anymore. It makes me really miss snow.
The walk in the park is really nice though, so perhaps it’s just as well we take our time. Regents Park, so named because apparently there was going to be some royal building next to it that was never actually built, has a lake with all sorts of birds– swans, geese, ducks, and I believe a heron or two. There’s also a large number of soccer fields which this girl Katie and I plan on using some day after class. In the middle of the park is a little coffee shop called the “honest sausage.” Several comments have been made about the name, though we’re not really sure why it’s called that.
The classes I’ve had so far are Shakespeare (yes, Greta…), High Comedy (which at the moment is being taught as a sociology of British History class, and my homework for tonight is to study my curves, which were high fashion during the 1700’s), Voice, and Stage Combat.
Combat is my favorite so far. It’s taught by this small blonde named Natalie who has two main rules: when others are performing, shut the fuck up; and when she is talking… shut the fuck up. She’s really great, though– really witty and lively. She also looks amazing when she fights. I’d like to be like that. At first when she found out about my ear, she didn’t think I’d be able to participate, because she thought my equilibrium would be off, thus making me a danger to the class. I apparently passed though; she said I did really well on my first day. So yay! She left us with an exercise in pivoting, saying “if you can’t dance, you can’t fuck.” So there you go.
Last odd bit of the night, saw Paul Chrewsberry at a play tonight. That was a bit surreal.