La Vie Boheme in London Town

Sorry I haven't updated in so long. Honestly, I have no excuse.

So about over a fortnight ago I went to visit some old fellow Semmies in London (that is fellow students that participated in the Oregon Shakespeare Festival Summer Seminar for High School Juniors in 2004).
My friend Samantha is in her second year at Drama Centre (lucky bum) and Dan is taking a term abroad.

When I arrived, Sam was in rehearsal so Dan met me at the Euston train station. From there we wandered Waterloo where he is currently living. We had lunch at an Asian noodle place followed by coffee and muffins.
I met some of his friends very briefly before we took the train to Angel where Samantha lives.

It was so great to see Samantha again! Ever since the seminar ended she and I have been corresponding via snail mail and we often meet up whenever I pass through Santa Rosa where she lives.
She met us at the underground station, and after saying hello she added, "Oh, and I passed by Emma Thompson on my way over here." (!!)

Standard.

Samantha's apartment is probably the cutest thing I have ever seen. It is a modest little white bricked flat on a little corner and inside it is just like Samantha's house back home: cute, cozy, and artsy. They have black and white photos all over the walls and on a little wall next to their dining table they have a little display of their own photography. Samantha lives with two boys; Peter and Orlando and one other girl, Sophie. I met Peter first. As far as I know they all go to Drama Centre.

Dan and Sam and I took a walk around Angel and had dinner. When we came back to the flat, Samantha was just unlocking the door when we heard someone calling her name behind us; it was Orlando, guitar strapped across his back, a glass of half finished beer in one hand, and a huge happy smile on his face.
He had just come from the pub where Sophie works. We were just making our way over there but before we did, he wanted to count how much he made playing that day.
It was clear to me at that moment that these kids were living SUCH the bohemian life; something I can only aspire to at this point.

So we got to the pub, had a few pints, talked a bit. I found out that a couple of years ago Orlando had played the professor in Oleanna so we had a bit of Mamet banter.


Here's Orlando and Sam


Semi Semmie Reunion: Sam, Me, and Dan

Afterwards we had to say bye to Dan cuz he was leaving the next day for Paris.
In the morning Orlando made everyone breakfast and he, Sam, and I took a walk along the canals nearby.





Orlando had to run along for a rehearsal with his sister's theatre company, but Sam continued to show me around the flea market area which was lovely.



Now while I was in London, my friend Paul was in town as well for the Chinese New Year festivities. We had made the plan to leave London on Sunday together and he wanted to leave around 6 in the evening. Sam and Orlando were insisting that we stay for dinner. I wasn't sure when the other train times were but when Sam and I came back to the flat, Orlando had looked them up before he left for rehearsal and left a list of them in the door for me. It was too sweet. So I called Paul to tell him we were staying for dinner.

That evening I got to meet Sophie properly. She's studying directing at Drama Centre. She is so much fun to talk to; just so animated and entertaining but also very no-nonsense. I really liked her. Paul joined us for drinks at the pub and afterwards we had a massive dinner party at l'auberge boheme- Peter was making his famous fajitas which WERE quite amazing. I got to meet Orlando's sister as well as another American girl who goes to Drama Centre with whom Sam and I have a mutual acquaintance from OSF Summer Seminar. 'Small world this is.

Paul and I left for the 10:40 train.
It was a sad goodbye but I definitely plan on going back soon. In fact Sam and I have a trip to Dublin in the works for May.

All in all it was a lovely evening with a lovely end; Paul is an excellent travel companion.



The following week was Reading Week...where I got little to no reading done. Ah yes and it was the week of Valentine's Day....that god forsaken Hallmark holiday.
I went out with some of my girlfriends though which was nice.
Flo was my date.



This weekend I go home with Paul to Gloucestershire. More to come.

I Get a Lesson in British Geography

My friend Will Martin gave me an intensive lesson a few weeks ago.

The person I was supposed to know that came from Scotland is TV personality, Lorraine Kelly, who I suppose is infamous for telling her guests to "sort their lives out".

Hope you all found this as enlightening as I did. ;)

Open Mic, Monologue, and Bronte

Lots of stuff has happened- both of a significant and insignificant nature.
I will talk about the nice, fun stuff.

First off: Article 19 had it's Open Mic fundraiser.
My friend Reece and I recently watched one of our favorite movies, That Thing You Do. He learned it on the guitar and then dedicated it to me at the event! SO SWEET!
Here's his funkified version:


Here's the original for reference:


It was all very sweet and nice.

Since then...not much has happened. A few very chill Beyond Imagination rehearsals here and there.

But last night, one of the drama societies, Infinity Stage Company, that makes major donations to charities, hosted a Monologue Monday event, and I was talked into doing a monologue. I had to follow Tommy's amazing Pitchfork Disney monologue. The boy IS going to drama school, I swear.
I did a monologue from Nicky Silver's Beautiful Child. I'd never actually read the play- I found it when I was looking for potential monologues for auditions. I didn't have any comedic monologues in my repertoire and this one caught my eye. I had never actually used it in an audition but I had it saved on my computer so I took it out and memorized it all yesterday.
People responded very well and to my relief I got some good laughs- first time that has happened when it was just ME up there.
Everyone was very curious where it was from and I regret I wasn't able to tell them what the play was actually about. If anyone at home could find the play, read it, and send me a summary I would be so grateful.
Here's the monologue if you'd like to read it:

I believe my father is insane. I don’t mean the cute old man kind of insane, I mean the danger to himself and others kind.
[What does my mother say?] Nothing, she died when I was four—Or she ran away.
I’m not really sure.
The story changes all the time.
When I was eleven we had a border collie, Mrs. Lee, who, for about six months, my father insisted was my real mother. But she was Chinese and I just don’t think that’s possible. I mean I’m not a scientist but I’ve gone over every inch of my body with a fine tooth comb and I can’t find any evidence of Asian ancestry. None. Besides, he always said my mother’s name was Janet and Mrs. Lee’s first name was Ruth. Not exactly close enough to mix up if you ask me.
Anyway, one day I came home from school and she was gone. No explanation, no nothing.
And after that he just got worse and worse.
He started wearing jockey shorts over his pants and that was a sign—

I tried to run away once before.
About a year ago.
I waited till I heard the shower and I tiptoed out the door.
I thought I was quiet as a mouse, but somehow he knew, he heard me.
I was this close to the finish line.
Well. He comes running after me, screaming and sweating and cursing a blue streak!
And he was wearing his clothes!
Dry as a bone!
He wasn’t really in the shower at all! Just hiding, in the bathroom, running the water!
I should’ve figured as much as he hardly ever bathes. He’s the dirtiest person I know.
Anyway he’s screaming at me and all the neighbors come out of their doors and stare and gape and it was so embarrassing.
This time I didn’t take any chances.
I drugged him.
I put sleeping powder in his soup.
At least I think it was sleeping powder.
He mislabeled everything in the house so could’ve been saccharine. Or talcum.
I didn’t want him making another scene. I drugged him and trust me he was out like a light.
[Oh he's fine. He's fine! I didn't kill him.] Oh I don’t think so.
Although now that you mention it….He wasn’t snoring when I left.
Could I use your phone?

After the monologue event, I went over to my friend Char's to wish her Happy Birthday for her 21st and then I went home (reluctantly) and sat at my computer doing nothing. I seem to be doing that a lot recently.
Once again people have been noticing a change in my mood lately. They say I've been very quiet. I'm not sure what it is...but at the same time I have a theory. I think it's S.A.D. and my monthly moodiness pretty much.
I am hoping that it will pass quickly.

In order to stop doing nothing, I started adapting a scene from Jane Eyre for a stage play for my adaptations class.
If you're a girl, and moody, and very angry at boys, rewriting the scene where Jane leaves Rochester can be very therapeutic, I find!
If anyone cares to read it here it is:

Scene.

Jane stands front and center. This is after Bertha has been discovered.

Jane’s mind is tormented with conflicting thoughts.

JANE

What am I to do?

VOICE

Leave Thornfield at once.

Jane covers her ears in protest.

JANE

That I am not Edward Rochester’s wife is the least part of my woe. That I have awakened out of most glorious dreams, and found them all void and vain, is a horror I could bear and master; but that I must leave him decidedly, instantly, entirely, is intolerable. I cannot do it.

VOICE

You can do it.

You should do it.

You must do it.

JANE

If I am to do it, I cannot do it alone. Let another help me, force me to do it!

VOICE

No; you shall tear yourself away, none shall help you: you shall yourself pluck our your right eye; yourself cut off your right hand: your heart shall be the victim, and you the priest to transfix it.

Jane refuses to hear, retreats back only to stumble and be caught by Rochester.

ROCHESTER

Jane! My dear Jane! There you are. Have you been crying?

He examines her face but sees no tears.

ROCHESTER

Not a word of reproach? Nothing bitter, nothing poignant? Nothing to cut a feeling or sting a passion?

Silence. Jane looks down as Rochester holds her face in his hands.

ROCHESTER

Jane, I never meant to wound you thus. If a man who had but one little ewe lamb that was dear to him as a daughter, that ate of his bread and drank of his cup, and lay in his bosom, had by some mistake slaughtered it at the shambles, he would not have rued his bloody blunder more than I now rue mine. Will you ever forgive me?

JANE

I forgive you.

VOICE

No…

Rochester leans in for a kiss. Jane recoils.

ROCHESTER

And yet you are so cold. You shun me.

JANE

You are a married man, sir.

ROCHESTER

I was wrong to hide anything from you, Jane. I know that. But I mean to make things right again. We’ll go away. Far far away from here- I have a house, Ferndean Manor, where we can live. We’ll be happy Jane!

JANE

Sir, your wife is still living.

ROCHESTER

She is no wife of mine. Does a wife burn people in their beds at night? Stab them? Bite the flesh from their bones? Do they--

JANE

Sir, you are inexorable for that unfortunate lady: you speak of her with hate—with vindictive antipathy. It is cruel—she cannot help being mad.

ROCHESTER

You know my story, Jane. How I was mislead, how her true nature was revealed to me after we married. How unhappy I was. Being married to her was no marriage but hell. And then you…You, angel, had shown me heaven again. After a youth and manhood passed half in unutterable misery and half in dreary solitude, I have for the first time found what I can truly love—I have found you. You are my sympathy—my better self—my good angel. I am bound to you.

Rochester offers her his hand.

She is silent and does not look at him.

ROCHESTER

Very well.

He grabs her and drags her upstage to the chestnut tree that has been split in two by the lightning previously. They are now in the garden.

ROCHESTER

Here. Tell me here. Here where you said you loved me. Here where you said you would be my wife. So it is here you must take it all back as I am now disqualified to be your husband. Do you not love me Jane?

JANE

I do love you! More than ever: but I must not show or indulge the feeling; and this is the last time I must express it.

VOICE

Depart…

ROCHESTER

Jane, do you mean to go one way in the world, and to let me go another?

JANE

I do.

ROCHESTER

Jane, (he steps toward her and embraces her) do you mean it now?

JANE

(eyes closed) I do.

ROCHESTER

(Kisses her neck) And now?

JANE

I do.

ROCHESTER

How can an angel be so wicked? It would not be wicked, Jane, to love me.

JANE AND VOICE

It would to obey you.

This is low blow.

ROCHESTER

(weakly) So…you are going Jane?

JANE

I am going, sir.

ROCHESTER

You are leaving me?

JANE

Yes.

She forces herself away.

ROCHESTER

Jane!

Jane stops, her back still to him.

Rochester falls against the tree.

ROCHESTER

Oh, Jane. My hope—my love—my life.

He lets out a sob but stiffles it, covering his face, closing his eyes.

Jane turns back, takes his head in her hands, and kisses him.

JANE

God bless you, sir.

Rochester leans further in, but Jane tears herself away one last time.

JANE

(choking back tears) Farewell.

VOICE

Farewell for ever.

Lights fade on Rochester alone, leaning on the chestnut tree.

Not the best writing in the world- I did it in an hour, and most of the dialogue is straight from the book. Essentially I wanted to employ the chestnut tree where Jane and Rochester first confessed their love for each other. For my adaptations class we had to think about how we'd go about adapting Jane Eyre for the stage. For me the first thing I thought about was how to set up the stage and I thought the chestnut tree would make a great symbolic centerpiece for the whole story.

I'm planning on going to London this weekend to visit my friend Sam at drama school. More to come.