Helloagaingaten

So I'm thinking about forcingmyself to be moredisciplined aboutthe blogging by making in a weekly blog, picking one day that it'll come out so I can stay on top of it better. I let you know if that actually happens. I'm already debating scratching the idea because I'm a week behind and hardly have time to catch up so whatever.

Last weekend, the girls and I were in Stockholm and let me tell you it was great. I didn't have the same connection with it as I did with Valencia. I don't know what it was about Valencia, but I got off the train and felt an ease, a comfort that I can really explain. Even though I was lost and my spanish was abominable, I felt like I fit in that place. Sweden and I didn't have that connection, but my mate Lea said she had a similar experience with Stockholm. However, it was the most expensive place I've ever been, plus it was really hard to figure how much I was actually paying for things because dividing by 7.5 isn't easy. 1 USD=7.5 SEK roughly. I know yall are all saying that isn't too hard, well it is. Trust me.

Stockholm is a major capital for design both interior design and fashion so you can imag

ine we went shopping! We went to Sofo(that's not a typo) the vintage and indie side of town. We also ran into a fresh market on the way there, where we tried local delicacies like...moose, ostrich, elk, reindeer, and other various weird meats, also some local honeys, jams, and marmalades, and of course chocolate! Swedes are very serious about their chocolate. I drank tons of coffee it was so strong, they have excellent pastries, but most exciting of all BAGELS! Good bagels with cream cheese and chives and locks. I did buy two beautiful vintage dresses, one I've already broke the belt on. I shouldn't get delicate things, but as the English would say they are quite posh. After shopping we learned a harsh reality, everything in Stockholm except for bar and restaurants closes at 4. The original plan was to take a bus or boat tour, both we sold out. So we stumbled into the only open museum where we saw the Imperial Terracotta Army, which was expensive, but massively cool. Who would have thought I'd learn so much about China in Sweden. After a much needed nap in our boat hostel, we took an adventure into some parks a

nd to find food and beer. Well, I know where the Swedes go after 4, to bars! For good reason too, not only is the Stockholm the birthplace of Absolut Vodka, they have some lovely beers and the best cider I've ever had, Somersby. We all insisted on only drinking local whilst we were there and we were extremely successful.

Then we paid money for the strangest thing I've ever paid money and waited in a ma

ssive

queue for...the ICEBAR. Just so you

know, I am aware that there are a few of these, but the Absolut Icebar is Stockholm is the original and local because as previously mentioned Absolut is Swedish. So the money was well spent. Everything, EVERYTHING except the floor and ceilings was made of Nordic ice, even the cups. Catherine put her glass on the bar and it slid off! It was hilarious. For 25$ you get a parka, gloves, and a free drink! It was cold, but I'm in IL, Lea is from Nebraska

, Catherine might just be thick skinned, cause we lasted longer than the average 20 minutes. The drinks were tasty too. Lea was the only one brave enough to get the classic Swedish drink 100 proof vodka and lingonberry juice. If the vodka were weaker, I would have tried it also, but its no secret I'm a cheap date, it doesn't take much. Then we went to the best bar ever, really it was a great bar! The perfect blend between tourist friendly and local, the perfect combo of music, talking, dancing, and lights. It was just great. It was called the KGB and decorated with old school Russian propaganda. They played Russian pop music. They drinks were good, the bartenders friendly, just great! We even limboed with what I think was some guys tie, it was bizarre and fabulous.

In true Swedish fashion, we got 2am hotdogs at the 711. Strange, yes, but there are more 711s in Stockholm, than Starbucks in Manhattan. It was unexpected, but oddly comforting. But they didn't have Slurpees which is kind of the whole point of 711s, but they were open at 2am with hotdogs. What more could I ask for at that moment? Chocolate, cinnamon rolls,water? They had that too, and not crap chocolate or bagged cinnamon rolls, we're talking fresh artisan shit. Perfection.

The next few days in Stockholm were much more educational, we went to museums, took the boat tour, and the epitome of Swedish culture IKEA. All fun. All interesting. My feet were killing me though. All the roads are cobblestones and my black boots were sacrificed in honor of travel. The heel on them is basically worn off because of the cobblestones. My feet HURT and you know it had to be bad for me to even say that because I was a pointe dancer. I got a killer blister on my toe, but I made it through! Ikea is giant, which is implied, but its the worlds largest Ikea so think about that. Double each section in your average Ikea and that's the Stockholm Ikea Experience, but it was worth it and it was meal we could actually afford. Swedish meatballs and lingonberries. I'm glad I'm not still practicing vegetarianism.

Overall, Stockholm was fantastic. It's been really interesting learning about all the different culture in Europe. Everything is so close and accessible, but obviously so diverse! Everyone is Stockholm spoke perfect English, but they don't have the British accent! IT WAS AWESOME! Everyone was really helpful, multiple times people would stop us on the street and ask if we needed help, at the market other customers took the opportunity to explain all the different foods were trying on their own accord. It was great.

We made it back safe and on time! Ryan Air even played a recording of a trumpet exclaiming "CONGRATULATIONS YOU HAVE ARRIVED ON TIME!" We died laughing.

Getting back was difficult, I do love England I do, but it seems that this week was the I miss America week. It just had no luck with public transportation, sales people, night clubs, ect. Because of this I knew I needed some theatre. I saw the 3 hour Birdsong, and missed class the next morning because I overslept. Then I saw an Off West End show called Lower Ninth about a father and son on a roof in New Orleans during Katrina. That was an eerie experience, but they did a great job, the script wasn't well structured, but captured the emotions and the feeling of the city perfectly. The accents weren't quite there, but only a local could tell that. Most importantly an audience who knows very little of what was actually happening got a much better idea.

But its a new weeks, I saw two shows this weekend, caught up on Project Runway and X-Factor(goodbye Diva Fever you are missed) and I'm refreshed. Plus, because I missed class I spent Friday getting 98.8% of my homework done because I needed to redeem myself.

Drama Free

As you can tell from the infrequent posts, my life is getting busier and homework has to be put ahead of blogging. Sorry cyberspace.

Week Two of classes is pretty much over, and I am so lucky to be here learning. Really I am. For once there is no sarcasm in my voice. Honestly I thought it would be harder academically and that everyone would be light years ahead of me, but I'm where I need to be apparently. I fit in nicely. Playwriting is funny though, I know all the American classic plays they don't (ie Raisin in the Sun) They know modern British classics I don't. This sounds self important but now I realize why Kingston has us at all; I'm learning from them, but they are learning from me as well. It's win win.

I'm starting to think and read in my head British accents. Never thought that would happen.

I just saw Henry IV Part 2. A little bit longer, ok much longer, but still great. At first I didn't think its Shakespeare's finest, then we got to Act II. Sigh. Act II. It was brilliant. I love the GLobe because they end every show in a dance. I think every show should always end in dancing.

I am leaving for Sweden tomorrow. Must get back to Waiting for Godot before class tomorrow.

Short and sweet is better than nothing I guess.

Cheers

Hello Again

Hello again. This dedicated to my Aunt Donna who misses my updates! :)

The reason I have not blogged in a while is my utter frustration with technology! I made this awesome vlog (video blog) of my time in Valencia, but

I can't get it uploaded in full. So I refuse to say anything about Valencia in detail so you can see the fruits of my labor! For those of you who are dying to know about Spain, here's a few pictures.

Classes started this week, and I'm really excited. My first day did not go so smoothly. My timetable had to the wrong rooms for all of my classes for I was late to my first class and the lecturer wasn't pleased. In my defense, I was EARLY in the wrong room with 6 other students. Other than that hiccup, the classes are great. I am glad to be around my people, theatre people. At first they were skeptical, but I think I have eased my way in with my loud mouth. I'm not shy, and I have opinions that they aren't used to. (That's me tooting my own horn! Toot toot) Don't worry adults and parental figures, I know when to keep my mouth shout and I always raise my hand (which a few teachers weren't used to) Here's the kicker! They assign tons of homework and attendance is required, but the only grade that counts is my final! All my classes are 100% on the final assessment. So yeah, I miss American schools, a point for smiling, a point for showing up, a point for commenting, points EVERYWHERE! But I was warned, I just didn't believe them. It's loads of homework and reading, but at least its plays and children's books! Now that classes have started, the rain has come, my friendships are more stable, I feel better in my house, I have found my grocery store, and the pasty...I feel a hell of a lot more comfortable. Also, my friends and I found a place. The Berry. Its a pub. I'm glad to have a place, and we go on Wednesdays went they have 2 pound mixers and wine. I always find the bar specials. It's funny how comforting routine is, but I guess it should be expected.

Today, I am going to Paddington Station to see Paddington Bear! I can't wait.

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.