Duty Free

I am currently awaiting my flight at Gatwick Airport and this in the first time since I can remember that I have not been forced to take off my shoes in Airport Security. It was like I was in a first class line, the security people put everything in the bins for you, smile, tell you to have fun and safe travels, help you remove things from the bin. It was incredible. While flying here, the TSA yelled at me for forgetting to take my belt off and not removing my cardigan sweater. I mean does a tiny cardigan really count as a jacket??? It is strange flying internationally twice in two weeks, this flight will obviously be shorter. The gate isn’t even announced until 40 minutes before my flight. Another novelty. Like waiting for the LIRR, playing the guessing game of which platform.

Riddle me this. Duty Free means tax free right, but in England there is not sales tax, right? I’m serious. Someone answer my question. Why is everyone scurrying around to by whiskey, perfume and cigarettes? I had to buy a belt. The stupid belt I JUST bought before leaving didn’t make it through the Umi Hotel experience. I will never ever ever buy a reversible belt as long as I live. The little metal clasp came off every time I unbuckled it. You trying finding a two inch piece of metal in an airplane bathroom. I was rattling around enough in there they probably thought I was trying to disarm the smoke alarm of something.

I am glowing, giggling, smiling, and skipping around the hellish Gatwick at the thought of going to Valencia. Even though my pants were practically at my knees, I burned my tongue on my latte, get on the wrong train, stood in the wrong check-in line, forgot my deodorant, and there’s a screaming two year old behind me poking me with is slimy teddy bear yet none of it has even phased me. A year ago, maybe in 6 months ago I never would have made this adventure alone, but a new bravery as captured me like a false security blanket. I guess I’ve finally entered those youthful years you hear about and read about in books where nothing bad can happen to me. Well, that’s not entirely true, I mean I am still me BUT a braver, more confident, adventurous me. It’s refreshing. Dreams of paella and mojitos are dancing in my head. This week will be full of beaches! We went to Brighton yesterday.

It was marvelous. I like to think of it as returning to the scene of the crime. Yet, no offense to my father, after visiting there, I don’t understand how he got run over there in the first place. I did however, look both ways 100 times before crossing the street and scour the cross walks for blood stains. They drive more carefully there and are more respectful to pedestrians then any place I’ve been so far, but as Mum pointed out maybe that’s the blessing. If he had been hit in Kingston or the City of London he may have lost more than a foot. Unfortunately for my father, I was really taken with Brighton. Brighton be punk, but it’s also extremely picturesque. Catherine, my new friend(I do have one!) and I both commented on how we felt as though we had transported to a Jane Austen novel- sea bathing in the ocean. I did not find a husband like Lydia, not yet anyway. Even the touristy boardwalk was nostalgic.

The Royal Pavilion was extraordinary. Secretly, I liked it better than Buckingham. Nash- again- paired with Georgey (IV) Porgy really out did themselves. The outside was inspired by Indian architecture and the inside Asian decoration and themes. What is so fascinating and weird to me is neither of the men working of the Palace had ever been to either of those places. It was like a imagination playground for grown men, what they had always fanaticized these exotic places to be like and their imaginations spared no expense. I finally got a decent cup of coffee from a small Italian café in the Laines. The man thought I was Italian, he was disappointed when I opened my big fat Southern mouth. “Italiana?” he pointed at my hair and eyebrows. “No osrry, American…” Wah wah wah. I couldn’t claim my heritage like I can in the States. You don’t get away with that here. He laughed and smiled and made a fantastic latte. Thank heavens.

I have much to say on Beckett as well, if you are tired of me gushing over all the fantasic theatre I’ve seen for outrageously good prices, stop reading here, however you will be missing out because Gambon+Beckett=Brilliance.

In case those two names are familiar at first, Michael Gambon is Dumbledore in the 3^rd-6^th Harry Potter movies and good old Sam Beckett, father of the absurd, penned Waiting for Godot. Frankly, I never really understood Absurdist or Beckett. I wasted so much breath arguing against Theatre of the Absurd. What’s the point? I get that it changed theatre and dared people to try new things, but why are people claiming its relevance. Why watch people lost and talking in circles for hours on end, and just like Shakespeare at the Globe done in its purist, yet still risky form, this production turned the light bulb on. The play, Krapp’s Last Tape, has very little live spoken word and the adage acting is reacting was never so brilliantly highlighted. Gambon was light never taking himself to seriously, but nevr mocking or mimicking what “Beckett” is supposed to mean. He was natural and interesting, emotional and numb. The direction was calming and stirring. Every contradiction played perfectly. I am now excited to read more Beckett when before he was a playwright I dreaded studying. This is good because I will spending 6 weeks on his work. So thank goodness for this performance. And my apologies to my Directing II and Theatre History class. I get it, I conceed. You win. Really.

I made another dangerous discovery. The pasty. The original Hot Pocket, but way more appetizing and carries ten times the calories. And like the hotpocket, the quick, easy and cheap. Unlike the hotpocket, fresh, filling and traditional. I am worried. So I’m limiting myself to no more than one pasty every two weeks. Those will be good days.

Hopefully they announce my gate soon. I supposedly will be on my way to Spain 20min…doubt it.

Adios!

P.S That 20min delay was a 4 hours delay. I made it safe to my hostel. Now to explore. Soy hombre.

Pre Duty Free

I typed an enmourously long blog that fabulously describes my last week and leading up to this moment but I refuse to to pay £10 to have internet on my laptop so you will all just hav to wait.

My flight has been delayed 7 hours. Gatwick is pratically a mall so I'm good. So excited for Valencia...still.

4 hours to go.

prescription

Correction: I was warned by my advisor that "culture shock" and "home sickness" were in fact real, I just thought as a strong woman I was immune to these disgusting diseases. Unlock my cold, this unfortunate sickness can only be cured with a big fat dose of THEATRE. The doctor ordered me to remind myself why I travelled across the ocean. Because of my the severity of my ailment, I was required to doses of said medication: Dose one, We Will Rock You. and then Henry IV back at the Globe.

In classic Guido fashion, my friends and I were only planning on seeing one show, Henry IV, but when en route to the British Museum, we pass The Dominion Theatre. My friend said, "I wonder how much tickets are?" I said, "Go ask." So she did, and less than 5 minutes later we were had tickets on row J orchestra, which turned out to be ridiculously good seats. Was is a good show? Not really. Was it the best time I've had in the theatre in a long while? Absolutely! It was a blast! The whole audience was singing and dancing. I could barely contain myself. It was an insanely fun show. In great contrast to the rest of the day, but it was like taking a double shot of espresso. I was so full of energy and ready for HENRY IV!

Henry IV part 1 I can't even describe in words. I wish I could. Really. It was the single best show I've seen...ever. And frankly (excuse my french) I've seen some fucking incredible performances (The Seagull and Spring Awakening in previews comes to mind) but this show reached a different hemisphere of quality. When you see Shakespeare, it's generally extremely long. I've heard of productions of Henry IV running for 4 1/2 hours. Not at the globe. These people are pros with timing, energy, rhythm, dramatic pause, scene changes, I'm sure you get the picture. It was 3 1/2 hours of pure joy. I was standing with the other groundlings for the entire time and my feet didn't even feel the pain. It was so good I bought the program. Here's a funny thing, in London you don't receive a complimentary program at all, no playbill, zip. The Henry program is a two for one because I'm going back for part two. It's beautiful. I won't be cutting it up for my book.

Before all of this mind blowing theatre, we went to the British Museum. I didn't even know this place existed, but I am glad it does! It was crazy. Early, I was musing about some of the buildings here being older than my country, well they have an entire WING on Ancient Egypt, Assyria, Greece, and Rome. For example, some of the Parthenon is there. ANd no, it's not a reconstruction. I am glad I was able to visit the God of Theatre before starting my trip in the sublime.

Here I am with him. :)

I am also glad that I was able to have possibly one of the coolest days of my life before today because it was awful. Thank goodness for my amazing parents. When mama bear thinks baby bear is in trouble, WHEW! does she attack. I am thankful for Skype so I could watch mom bite at the Wachovia people for screwing with me. Basically, Wachovia had me on hold forever and that charged international minutes to my phone, which in turn made me go over my balance, which led to the discovery that my sim card isn't compatible with the phone its in even though the guy promised me it was. WHATEVER. Basically. It all got worked out because like mother like daughter. AND NOW I'M GOING TO VALENCIA.

Dreams come true. or rather:

Los suenos vienen verdad.

Alone

They tell you how much fun you are going to have, they tell you how much harder the classes are going to be, and they tell you that it looks good on a resumer. What they leave out is how lonely the first few weeks are. How you feel like an outsider every where you go because you aren't exotic or exciting from France, Bulgaria, or Brazil...you are American, just like them but different. Loud, crude, loose, and the worst part is, you know they are right.

Pilgrimage

I finally feel like I've settled into reality. I have internet again. Yea. So now I bore you with my travels.

Let me start with, yeah, you guessed it...THE GLOBE!

I really don't know where to begin really. I'll start with the best news, they've extended their season so I get to go back! RAWR! We paid 5 pounds for groundling tickets(the price seems to have gone up since the 16th century) which are the best seats (part of ground) in the house. I would be lying if I told you I didn't cry. It's so great to see such highly trained actors doing such incredible work. I can't begin to describe the level of performance. It's Shakespeare as it's supposed to be done. By the end we were singing and dancing with the cast. Such I great show to start my theatre immersion experience. Next up, Henry IV, both parts, and then Bedlam. Bedlam is the first woman playwright to appear at the Globe.

The Tower of London was much cooler than I thought it would be. They are renovating the main tower, but that really didn't effect our experience. It still amazes me how young our country is. I was standing in a tower that was built in the 11th century...I mean come on! Also, in the safest place in London, the Crown Jewels! Ooo ahhh, which I didn't know were owned NOT by the monarchy, but the people of London. Everything is so elaborate and not at all what I expected. I assumed it would be tiaras, rings, necklaces, and bracelets. Only two rings, the crown jewels actually refers to the crowns, gold ware, scepters, swords, ect. They have crowns dating back to the 14th century. Everything was a little gaudier than I expected, gold is big in 15th century England. The fur, the velvet, the pearls, and diamonds, rubies, emeralds. It was quite a feast for the eyes.

Yesterday was my first rainy London day, of course the day we spend outside at the Tower, and on the Jack the Ripper tour. Of course, I have a cold. Of course. Who else? But I'm good. Boots the pharmacy, is great. Mom, it's like Walgreens with Lancome! High class. The spicy curry on Brick Lane helped a bit.

I have so much history and facts in my head milling around, I'm afraid if I trip it will all spill out of my ear.

I'm in my new home for the next few months and my worries of being living with people are melting away slowly.

Since I can't keep my mouth shut, more to report.

bye yall

Water

My first day in London, the group went to a pub. I was exhausted so I decided to head back to the hotel early and on my way home, I came across a woman on her balcony yelling down to an Italian couple on the street below. There was a noticeable puddle of water below, and all three people were pretty wet. Well, apparently the man on the third floor had dumped a bucket on the couple and then a few minutes later dumped another bucket on the woman who was "having a cupa" on her balcony. They were so upset about they were preparing to call the police. This is why the police don't carry guns here...

I was wrong about yesterday...Globe is today! We went to Buckingham Palace yesterday. Apparently for the past few years, the royal family has been living beyond their means. So when they are living in their summer house in Scotland, the open up the state rooms in the palace for August and September. They claim they need the money to meet the expectations of the British people. That includes the 3 garden parties the Queen throws every year, the travel the Queen does, the millions of hats she owns, the polo matches, ect. Walking through the palace was incredible, enlightening, but also troubling. I understand that I'm an American and having a monarchy is a part of the culture here, BUT I can't help but think that the tax payers money could be used in a more appropriate way. Don't get me wrong, the palace was breathtaking and is an extremely important part of history. if it weren't for the audio tour headset, I might have felt like I was in a fairy tale. Then I arrived in the throne room...it's two chairs. Each of the staterooms was covered in portraits as well as the 3 art galleries we were allowed to see( 2 paintings and 1 marble sculpture room. There were time I had to remind myself that I was in fact in a work place/home and not an art gallery. I had a coffee on in the garden, which used to be one of the King's hunting grounds.

After that we were brought way down, and went to the worst, most excruciating meal I've ever had. We attended a medieval banquet, and to my surprise the Medieval Times in Schaumburg is more historically accurate than the 2 1/2 hour shit show I was forced to participate in. First disappointment, no turkey legs. The food was bad, and they gave us silverware. However, I did get winked at by cute Sir Thomas; I winked back. ;) After the most ridiculous display of bad stage combat, juggling, off key singing, weird dancing, and terrible jokes, I did think to myself at least these actors have work. The put a cherry on top of the crap sundae, they turned the place into a disco after the show. Bad gay club music didn't sit well on my dry chicken and white carrots.

The weather was/is perfect. It hasn't rained yet, but YES MOM I've carried my umbrella and raincoat everywhere. Off the the Tower of London.

Cheers from London yall

Alrighty Americans!

Now it is 7:30 AM, I've been awake since 4:30 AM, however, I am refreshed and ready to go for now. I guess at 10 AM I'll be totally crashing. I would just like to remind everyone that everything I know about England/the British I learned from Love Actually, Harry Potter, and Harold Pinter. The reality is refreshing I must say, at least so far. When you watch plays, movies and television and read books the people are idealized into an incredible standard. I am aware that this occurs with every stereotype, but I am just happy that these people are real people. They aren't always polite, they fight, they raise their voices (not quite as loud as us). Maybe not the most enlightened, original, or politically correct realization, but its relaxing for me.

I realized today that I can accurately represent the Northeast, the South, and the Midwest. That's about 1/3 of America. I the all encompassing American, a self proclaimed expert of a 1/3 American culture.

However, my mom warned me that here they speak "British" and we speak "American"; it's not that I didn't believe her, but well I didn't. Everyone kept saying, "Well, at least the same language." They don't. Not really anyway. It's more than "the phrase book" could explain. I was expecting a few different, cute words every now and then. Maybe this is how Northerners feel when they travel to the deep south.

One thing I've noticed so far is that the 80's aren't just an influence around here, I feel like I was "Hot Tube Time Machined" (with the exception of the giant cell phones of course) And YES, I dig the fashion. Everyone here just looks effortlessly put together, but I know it took them a while to look that way. And I was reminded by my advisor before I left, "There are shoes in London." The good news is there are really fabulous shoes in London, and to everyone's shock and awe, I am a part of a 3 person club here, the one suitcase club AND that suitcase has room to spare. (not weight though. stupid airlines)

For the record, the food isn't as bad as the said it would be! Maybe I've been lucky thus, maybe I've been in De Kalb too long. Last night, the chef at the Prince Edward Pub made us tiny versions of classic English pies, Cottage Pie, Shepherd's Pie, and another yummy pie with a forgettable name. The British love horseradish, which I didn't know and wasn't warned about. It's in everything, even the mustard. WARNING TO THOSE TRAVELING HERE: Traditional English Mustard means a yellow horseradish paste. Mom, almost all the coffee I've come across is organic, even the instant coffee in my sad/frightening hotel room.

The exchange rate sucks, sucks sucks sucks. My dollars sold for $1.69.

I am itching to see some theatre. Countdown to Merry Wives begins, 10 hours and 53 minutes. I am really glad to see something I haven't seen before.

What do we think the British Avenue Q is like?

bye y'all

kisses from your American

I am also attaching a link to my friend Chelsea DuVall's blog because:

1. It's much more beautiful and poetic then mine

2. The post I'm attaching is about me and when you are vain enough to write a blog, it's expected to include any and all things you or me. Whatever. Enjoy

Poetic Musings : For Carolyn

Two Feet

I've officially been in London for 7 hours. My first blog post will be unceremonious because I am in a jet-lag haze. I was instucted the not nap for longer than two hours and lay off the coffee....

Tonight we went to a pub, I am so tired everyone probably thought I was drunk. Bad first impressions. Let's hope those don't count.

First impressions of England:

You can't be a vegetarian in England.

They have funny sounding sirens.

Even though the street signs are more polite sounding, the driver's are CRAZY.

The accents are quite lovely, especially one babies.

Americans are loud. We really are.

Water pressure?

Tomorrow I head off to the Globe to see Merry Wives of Windsor. AH! All these poor people are going to see me totally geek out. We have groundling seats or floor I guess. I wonder if I can throw tomatoes and cabbage?

And for those of you who are wondering, I still have both of my feet.

pip pip cheerio.

or bye yall