Super Saturday

What a day. Never has that short, but to-the-point sentence been so apt for me. I'm very tired right now, but I wanted to quickly write something up before I turn in for the day.

Rehearsals were a bit of a waste of time for me. I could only go for two hours, and because one of the cast members I work quite closely with wasn't there until 10 minutes before I had to leave, the rest of the time was just chatting and watching other scenes. It's not that I mind doing that, but I did let them know over a week in advance that I would have to leave early. Oh well.

The plays were good. I'll talk more about them tomorrow when I'm not falling asleep at my computer. And the company was excellent, we had a lot of fun.

I have study, food shopping and other stuff to do tomorrow, so I'll have to sacrifice catching up on all my lost sleep until tomorrow night/Monday morning when I might get to bed earlier/sleep in. But I'm feeling pretty good anyway.

Friday

I know, I missed yesterday. Time got away from me (I can't believe 24 hours ago I was writing reference lists and studying for my media law exam - it feels like a week ago). And I was very busy with assignments. From last Friday to this Friday I've done six assignments. And they weren't that evenly spread. But now I have only two left, and they should be goodies.

I went and had drinks this afternoon with my journalism friends and associates at uni. Our lecturer organised it and I'm so glad she did. It was really a lot of fun (minus the bombardment all our ears got - apparently Friday afternoon of the last teaching week is the time to go for a drink). It's interesting, because when I went to submit my three written assignments today, I was thinking about how deserted the campus was. When I headed over to the uni bar, I realised why.

Still, it was fun. I even ended up having a chat about Doctor Who with my lecturer!

Anyway, I think I need to go to bed. I haven't had much sleep this week and tomorrow is Super Saturday (as in rehearsals in the morning, Much Ado About Nothing straight afterwards and The Laramie Project after that). I'll have to write reviews for the plays!

Wednesday

We sat in the dark performance space waiting for the audience to enter. An eerie song was playing and the only light came from four torches. Once audience member followed the light to the centre of the room before changing their mind and moving outside the light. When it was dark, we began to talk.

I walked around, taking photos of people in the dark, then handing them disturbing images which they could look at when the lights were turned on. The stockings on our heads made us uniform, and the scattered sentences unsettled a lot of people. The lights, when they came up, were only light enough to illuminate the space, not much more. At the end of our performance someone gave the best feedback I could have asked for.

"My heart was racing. I was scared, but I also asked myself why I was scared."

That was what I had hoped to hear.

I was going to try and put up photos tonight, but I think that will have to wait until I have a bit more time on my hands (like after this week is over). For now, I hope my brief performance description has been enough.

Tuesday

Who would have known walking around with a stocking on your head could be so much fun? Well, I certainly didn't until we had our group dress rehearsal today. Not only did it bring about stomach-cramping laughter, but also some great photos (which I might even try and post tomorrow after the performance).

I'm looking forward to tomorrow, but I'm also feeling exhausted already. And the idea of three more non-stop study days is not very appealing. But, I shall persevere!

At the moment I should get back to fixing up this video for tomorrow. Most of my group thought it was "perfect" (to quote one girl), but I noticed a few sections which were edited badly. So, onward with the video.

More tomorrow (if I don't feel swamped that is).

The Death of the Theatre?

We had a debate today. Team Affirmative, as I decided to call us(one "witty" guy wanted to call us "Team Dan", but I suspected that was an ego thing of sorts), was arguing that theatre is dead. So...is it?

We argued that theatre, as defined by Aristotle some 2000 plus years ago, is not alive. Performance, on the other hand, we believe is very alive. See, theatre, with a linear narrative and fourth wall, only appeals to a small percentage of todays society. Performance is everywhere (and if you read the work of someone like Schechner, everything).

Team Negative argued this was just an evolution of theatre and could still be called "theatre" as such, but I tend to disagree. If, as scientific theory compelling suggests, humans evolved from some form of ape, why then are we not still called apes? Because we have evolved so much that we could hardly be called apes? Isn't that the same as with contemporary "theatre"/performance? I would argue yes, but feel free to rebut.

You might have also noticed my headline for today is alluding to Roland Barthes' essay The Author is Dead, which states that authors are no more than the people writing, and the readers are the ones creating meaning. In his essay, Barthes suggests "death" is a metaphor for a power exhange, or an evolution of sorts. If we apply that same "death" metaphor to the changing face of "theatre", it could easily be seen as dead.

Either way, it was a very interesting discussion and a number of Team Negative attacked me in their rebuttal. I'll admit one of them had a very good reason to do this (I got my theories mixed and my words muddled), but I like to think I got the most notice because what I was saying made them think. And, for me, that is the important thing about debates.

Sunday

A short post today I think, because I almost forgot (again) to make one. I've been working on an essay most of the day, and I feel surprisingly good. Yes, it's true that at one stage, in the late afternoon, I had to run around my study area and do a bit of a physical shake-out to re-focus myself, but I still got a lot done.

I'm now entering the Dreaded Week 13 at uni, and I'm not looking forward to it. But I am looking forward to the end of the week, so that's something to keep me going. And tomorrow I have an appointment about my drama future, so it will be nice to have some more organisation. Until then, I think it's time for bed.

(And for once I have managed to write a short post!)

Saturday - Plays and History

Do you know what I enjoy about studying plays for drama? Part of it is my enthusiasm for drama, but part of it is the history you get to learn. At the moment I'm writing about Kushner's Angels in America and Kaufman's The Laramie Project and I'm learning so much about the United States political history.

At school here you tend to get taught a minimal amount of world history, and a lot about Australian history, so things like Reaganomics and Clinton's policies escaped me for a long, long time. Being able to read about them now, and find links between politics and the plays is proving particularly interesting.

Yes, I have changed my tune (again) about university work. I'm enjoying it at the moment. But I know next week will be my Week of Hell, so making the most of this assignment means I can try and keep sane for everything else I'm not so enthusiastic about. And it's not often I get the chance to write about a play one weekend, and go and see it performed the next. I'm really glad this is the case with The Laramie Project.

When I first read The Project, I was amazed by it's scope and the effectiveness of the docudrama genre (some people call it Verbatim Theatre, but I disagree with that). And also by how much the words effected me. I'm a little ambiguous about seeing it next weekend because I know it will be great, but also very moving. I'm not usually one to cry in things, but I have a feeling I'll need a box of tissues handy next Saturday night.

Anyway, I think I'll turn in for the day (in terms of writing at least). I have to go to the shops and then make dinner for Sister Dear and I.

Friday

A short entry is in call for tonight I think. I've had a mad hatter of a day today. Firstly, I went to uni, handed in an assignment and rushed off to my Media Law class, almost colliding with my lecturer in the process. That was, of course, fun.

The class was great, a revision type thing for the exam next week which got me thinking about that on top of everything else I need to think about. After that I raced up to the bus stop to catch the inter-campus bus to get to my group meeting. On the way I realised I had a message from my dad about some projects I have planned for the summer holidays.

Group meeting. Ok, we got stuff done and I don't feel so bad about it all now. But it didn't help that two of the members got really stressed and inadvertently took it out on the group. Yes, fair enough one of the other members was playing director and sounded patronising about it (note the word sounded though because I don't think it was intentional). And yes, we were a bit rude when one member started saying they had an assignment and couldn't meet up the day before the performance, but those were not fair reasons for people to leave almost in tears and blunder off like Heathcliff on a bad day. Seriously.

On the other hand, play rehearsals tonight were lots of fun. So it was good in the end.

Thursday

I woke up to the sound of construction work this morning, and despite the late night last night, I managed to get up and prepare for my long day of uni work. Surprisingly it wasn't as bad as I'd anticipated and once I got started I was ok. I think my mind blocks certain things to stop me from getting (more) stressed, and sometimes it must forget to unblock certain things when I'm trying to work. Unlike with some computer issues, there's not really a methodology to the unblocking process.

Still, I got things done. And I even had time to read the news online. Now don't get me wrong, I love newspapers (I don't know many "young people" who do, but I do), especially the bigger ones, but I don't like spending money on them. So online it is at the moment.

Of course, with the Federal Election closing in on us all, a lot of the news was about that. Apparently Prime Minister John Howard plans to open a training facility in the Greenslopes Private Hospital (Brisbane, QLD). This is (I think) actually in Opposition Leader Kevin Rudd's electorate. Tactic? Or is Howard addressing the crumbling health system?

With a decreasing number of nurses and doctors being trained in Australia, the opportunity to be trained in a private hospital is certainly something that needs to be considered. However, the proposed project would be done in association with the University of Queensland. Now I'm a fair opportunity type, and very much against university bias (I both acclaim and criticise most universities I know of). But it sounds very much like this project would be readily available to UQ students, and perhaps not to the other major Brisbane uni's - Queensland University of Technology and Griffith.

Would students from Brisbane universities other than UQ get opportunities to work at Greenslopes if the project went ahead? Shouldn't all medical students have the same workplace training opportunities?

I'll be voicing my opinions about things like this as the election process continues.

Wednesday

A late post, and with only two minutes left before 12am, I'm guessing it will end up being my first of two technically Thursday entries. Oh well, I'm still counting it as daily.

Group work continues to be a bit of an issue. Fortunately we will be getting together on Friday afternoon to work things our further. I am hoping that we'll be set for next week by the end of that four hours. If not, they might just end up seeing the Bad and Rarely Seen Side of Amy.

I apparently have a package I need to pick up from the post office tomorrow. I'm guessing it's some articles I asked mum to send me, but I have no idea why she would have had them sent via registered post. It's a bit of a mystery. I tried to solve it late this afternoon, and apparently the person who "tried" to deliver it (people were home all day, so I doubt there was much trying) hadn't got back to the post office. Oh well, at some stage tomorrow I'll need a break from work, and now I have an excuse.

With the Federal Election campaign well underway now, I have realised there is a good chance I'll be out of the state on election day. My first election, and I will be doing it probably by postal vote, which actually means I get a bit more time to figure out if I've done everything right. Ah, the joys of being a civic-minded citizen. Actually, I found a rather pertinent "letter" from the Opposition Leader in our letterbox today, all about doing postal votes. Hmm, maybe someone know it would be an option for me... you never know...

That's about it for (tonight? today?) now. I'll be back at an earlier hour (today? tomorrow?) later.

Books, books, books

I spent about two hours today in the library. It's amazing how time will disappear when you're walking through the isles, looking for the right call number, checking indexes, looking at the contents pages. Amazing, and also rather time consuming.

With that in mind, I was very tempted to not bother writing a blog entry for today. However, I want to see how long I can keep the daily banter up, so I'm continuing.

I have just been asked by my Sister Dear whether I have ever written about Joseph Mallozzi's blog (www.josephmallozzi.blogspot.com) in my blog. The answer would have been no, up until now. His blog entries are a mix of wit, insights and anecdotal stories which I enjoy reading daily. And one of the reasons I so enjoy it is because I can torment Sister Dear by starting a sentence with "In Joe Mallozzi's blog today..." Ah, the sighs of exasperation ensue!

For some reason she doesn't like hearing my stories about reading blogs. Oh well, that's just fine by me (it keeps me sane, you know, tormenting her).

Monday, again

I was having a bad case of the Monday Blues today before I went to uni. I'd suddenly realised I essentially have two weeks of uni left from today, but seven assignments due between now and then. That would work out to an assignment every second day (if the people in assignment scheduling wanted to be meaner).

At any rate, this assignment influx isn't bothering me too much. What got me today, with it's persuasive whisperings, was the Idea That Todays Class Might Be Boring. Now, there's normally nothing more enjoyable than going to my drama classes - they're full of funny, interesting people and the stuff we're studying is very interesting to me. But it's the second-last week and things are winding down. Not so fun.

Still, when I got there I found I wasn't the only one with a bout of the blues. Our lecturer was also in That Kind Of Mood. Especially when more than half of the class hadn't done the simple task of writing 300 words on the play they'd read (and a few hadn't even read a play). I thought these people made the rest of us get an undeserved lecture on Making An Effort, but I didn't say anything.

In the end, it turned out I was wrong about today. After all the Monday Issues were issued and dealt with, the class was quite good. It also helped me quite a lot with the essay I have to write. And don't even ask about the Postmodern. Looks like Postmodern will be with me, watching me very closely, for the next week or so while I write this essay. Ah well, I guess there's got to be something good about that (even if it's just another script).

Sunday: Speculations

If we're to believe the six degrees of separation theory, which as been explored by various researchers since as early as 1929, then it really is a small world. And a lot has changed since the 1967 research done by Stanley Milgram to prove this theory. The internet is something significant which instantly comes to mind as a new tool of networking, and perhaps this has (reduced) changed the six degrees theory.

With that in mind, I'm currently contemplating the idea that in a more communicative world (broadly through internet, more specifically through email, networking sites, search engines etc) things can still be overlooked. Some people might even argue things are more likely to be overlooked because of the vast multitude of websites around. This raises a peculiar question for me: if we can do a basic internet search in 0.08 seconds these days, how is it that academic research can be so secular?

It seems logical that when people write academic articles they would do some of their research online. I mean, I'm a student and I still check to see that some of my ideas are original (to a point, Postmodernism reminds me). But still I will stumble across people/organisations/communities that claim to be "the first" to do something I know has been done before. Or I will find research which seems essentially the same, but with a different name for the theory in question. How does this happen and why don't people strive to address this?

People could write a book on this kind of thing. I doubt it would make many sales, but there's that many cases of it that I have found in just the past month. It can disadvantage researchers and organisations because they might overlook information which could benefit their projects, and it is also extremely confusing.

Some days I wonder if it isn't because technology is being developed so fast that we haven't yet had the time to make the most of it.

Saturday

Sometimes reading is the best thing to do. Sitting down, relaxing and reading a book sounds so appealing. But apparently not today. I've been reading through academic articles on styles and forms of theatre, Kushner's Angels in America and Kaufman's The Laramie Project. While the plays themselves are excellent, sifting through the theory to find relevant facts can be tedious.

Now, I like study in fact, I'm probably addicted to it in some weird way. But when it gets down to really really specific stuff which might marginally help me, but which I have to read in entirety, that's when it gets tiresome. Still, I shall persevere and hope that I learn lots of facts along the way which might not help me now, but could later on. Always look on the bright side, right?

It is decidedly cold tonight. Actually, it hasn't really warmed up all day and I suspect it is Brisbane's way of saying "I know you want rain, but have a cool temperature instead". Not exactly what I had in mind, but a nice change from the heat and humidity. But for now, I shall bid you adieu for another day.

Friday

People can be so predictable. I hate to say this, because I hate to think that I am predictable (but I'll admit in some cases I am). Nevertheless, it's true and predictability might as well be one of the characteristics listed under the definition of "Human Nature".

But isn't it sad when this truth extends to sarcastic conversations about what the worse possible thing someone could say or do is? When you don't want to be right, but you are in spite of what you've said? Might as well cut off the leaves of a pineapple to try and make it look "better" (and by now you should know how I feel about that).

At any rate, predictability can be a good thing ("no, she won't eat the pineapple without leaves") and a bad thing ("she'll throw the leafless pineapple in a fit of rage", which then turns out to be true). It can reassure people that they know you, but it can also make you wonder whether that is a good thing.

When I was at school I used to get very annoyed with friends who would try and predict what I would do. So much so that I would try and second guess them so I could do the opposite of what they thought I'd do (eg eat the leafless pineapple and pretend I was not in fact lamenting it's radical aesthetic).

But hey, I just like the way normal pineapple's look.

Thursday

I don't like to be avoided. I don't like it when people think they are being subtle about something and I know that's what they are trying to do. And believe it or not, somehow this lead to thoughts of Freud...

(Enter Id dressed as a kind of Grendel monster - in keeping with certain Norse references I have made today)

Id: Weakness!! Attack, attack, attack. Or - this could be even more fun - EXTERMINATE/DELETE.

Amy: Uh, I'm not so sure I want to do that...

(Enter Ego, who resembles a sci-fi looking, reptilian in black leathery stuff)

Ego: You know "these people" you talk of Amy, they seem to be trying to trick us.

Amy: Us? There is no us, you're both part of me. (Looks at them both) Actually, I take that back. You're part of my imagination.

Ego: Yes, of course. But what if your imagination is actually reality.

Id: What are you talking about?

Ego: I wouldn't expect something as primitive as you to understand.

Amy: You do realise you're criticising a part of yourself there Ego, right?

Id: None of this is the point! The point is people avoiding stuff.

Ego: I hate to say this, but Id's right. And I don't like the idea of people avoiding me. It seems so very rude and disrespectful and -

Id: WEAK.

Ego: Oh, all right. Weak.

Amy: No one's perfect though.

(As if to prove this Id starts to try and gnaw his tail off)

Ego: (Seemingly without realising Ego is raining spit over Amy and Id during this line. Amy looks disgusted by this, while Id tries to catch it in his mouth.) Well, apart from this "Grendel thing" here, I think we are. So attack, I say. Attack.

(Ego begins to clean up a number of different weapon-like objects)

Amy: Oh dear, I think I need help. (Writing a letter) Dear Freud, you have succeeded in making me go absolutely crazy by creating psychoanalytical features as characters in my imagination. I don't want to thank you for this, I just want to let you know that unless this situation improves, I will be sending you lots of angry mail.

(Cue "heroic" classical music as Superego enters)

Superego: Aha! I am Superego. The super of your Ego, the controller of your Id the...Oh dear, you've created persona's for them, haven't you?

Amy: I, er, it wasn't my fault...

Superego: Never fear! Superego shall save you. (Superego catches a glimpse of its reflection on a shiny surface) Ooh, hell-o.

Amy: Oh dear.

Wednesday

My experience with drama at university has generally been good, especially this semester. However, I am now reaching the end of my tether when it comes to a certain group performance I have to do. I love the idea of group work, I really do. And the people I'm working with are great people but apparently not so great ensemblists (apparently in all my frustration I just invented a new word).

I've been let down in group work a few too many times to expect total commitment from people, but because of past experiences I am willing to give up a fair bit of time for groups. But apparently I'm one of the few in my group willing to do this. And frankly, I am getting slightly concerned about it.

We met last Friday to work on it. I typed up what we had, asked for feedback, got none. We had to show our idea to the class today for feedback, and we had about a five minute script (the performance is 20-30). So I typed up some more stuff based on what we had talked about and also on my own ideas. I figured whether we used it or not was unimportant because the feedback could be used to generate more ideas for it anyway. So I explained that to the three of four others who actually turned up today. At first they thought I was "taking over" the group and the script was (in my eyes) set in stone. When I explained my theory on it they were really surprised I'd done so much work and very grateful.

The positive feedback was actually more to do with the added stuff than with the group worked stuff. And because it doesn't look like we can meet very much within the next two weeks I am going to tentatively suggest we consider using it. Stuff not "taking over" the group, I want a good mark. If worst comes to worst I will go and talk to my lecturer about it and see what she thinks. As much as I like people, I can't stand a lack of commitment.

Tuesday

Picture this: walking up a long, long, long flight of stairs and sitting on a nice-looking but uncomfortable leather pew for three and a half hours. And then another two hours after that. What are you doing? Just listening to people voice their opinions of other people and the other people's opinions. Sound interesting? That was my day.

Ok, to be fair to the institution, watching parliamentary proceedings was very interesting. The general feel was quite good between opposing sides of the arguments, and the building really is quite beautiful. It's heritage listed, and while I don't know all that much about architecture, I know enough to say it's something you don't see done any more. The gold detail on the roof panels was small and extensive nonetheless, and the balcony in the public gallery was decorated with wrought iron bars in intricate designs. Not that I payed much attention to that.

The experience was one I'm glad to have had, but I don't envy the politicians the long days they have in Parliament. To think they might still be there as I'm writing this is enough to convince me of that. Still, it has to be done. And now I know why.

Not much else happened today. I read a bit more of Angels in America, and found the humour a nice contrast to the sadness in a lot of the narrative. And I wrote a script of sorts, for class tomorrow, which is "interesting" to say the least. And somehow I've been tired out by it all, so I'll take my leave of you for another day.

Monday

Ah, the sweet, sweet sound of construction right outside my window
It blocks out all thoughts and worries
Leaving empty space in the halls of my mind.
And as I listen to the workers right outside my window
I wonder if I'm going deaf.

I'll refer back to a previous post in which I talked about fear of strangers (particularly in the city). What about fear of neighbours? Apparently that is an issue here, because I don't see why else our next door neighbours would not have warned us about the noise they wanted to make. It would be a general courtesy to let the people who are right next to you know when you're going to be assaulting there ears. You don't see me yelling into strangers ears at bus stops and stuff.

Actually, when I was woken up early by the noise, I thought of getting up at the crack of dawn one morning, sticking my head out my window and signing a song about neighbours. But thoughts of revenge have left me only to be replaced by sheer bafflement. Are they that rude? Do they think if they left a note in our letterbox, or knocked on our door, that they might catch some strange disease. I even checked to see if there was a red mark above our door. Nope, no red mark. It just doesn't make sense to me, especially the large truck parked right in front of our driveway.

The other thing which baffles me is that their chainsaw, prior to cutting things, sounds like some kind of archaic flute melody (under-toned by a rhythmic motor sound, of course). I've never heard of a Musical Chainsaw, but maybe I've found one all the same.

Sunday

Not much to say today. I've read some Marber, done some research and chatted to Sister Dear about her essay on some of Australia's revolutionary female playwrights. All in all it's been pretty cruisey for me.

I am eager to get this semester over and done with to be honest. While I love my subjects (I don't hink I've had this much fun and intellectual enjoyment ever --- how nerdy is that?), I just want a break from it all. Of course by "holiday" I mean me running around doing a million things not related to uni, but nevertheless important to me, all the while trying to catch up with friends and family and make the most of the summer and all it has to offer. But at the moment a hectic schedule of Ununiversity would be welcome.

I'm trying not to stress about all my major assignments. You know, the ones creeping up behind me as I innocently do readings and try to ignore the horrible sounds they inevitably create in my mind. Those ones. I'm still waiting on two interviews for my major investigative article (which I may have to chase up soon), and I need to get through Perestroika before I can begin my essay on Kushner and Kaufman. But otherwise I'm ok. Just getting by to get on by, you know how it is.

A Play on Postmodernism

1. Annoying Amy

(A windy spring night. AMY sits in her room, surrounded by books, pens, paper etc. She is reading a book on Media Law - something about Intellectual property - when a large shadow falls over the page she is on. AMY looks up towards the shadow's origin...)

Amy: No...

Postmodernism: Hello again strange, strange girl.

Amy: What are you doing here? This is Media Law, not theatre or academic theory or anything else relevant to you. You don't belong here.

Postmodernism: I belong everywhere. Our society is Postmodern, remember?

Amy:Yeah, yeah, I get that. But Media Law?!

Postmodernism: It amuses me -

Amy: (cutting Postmodernism off) It amuses you?

Postmodernism: It amuses me.

Amy: It amuses you...hang on, isn't this getting a bit Meisner?

Postmodernism: It's your story, not mine.

Amy: (Sarcastically) Right, it's just that I don't have any originality, being in a postmodern society and all.

Postmodernism: Oooh, very good. Where'd you get that idea? Some obscure pseudo-academic website?

Amy: From you.

(At this stage Postmodernism moves in front of where Amy is sitting, looming over her as if trying to intimidate her)

Postmodernism: (aside) I'm not trying to "intimidate" her, this is my normal stance. (To Amy) You got your idea from me?

Amy: Yep.

Postmodernism: Well, I'll not be damned, as the saying goes...

(Postmodernism begins to fade upwards)

Amy: Oh you're going are you? Excellent. By the way, the sayings "I'll be damned", there's no "not" involved.

(Amy picks up here text book just as Postmodernism is completely disappearing. Before she can resume reading, a strange, jelly-like popping sound is heard and on the ground where Postmodernism was is a large pineapple).

Friday

Due to my current study topics, I've had a lot of reason to reflect on ideas of fears. And the one that recurs the most for me is probably fear of the "other", the stranger. And I'm not talking about "stranger danger", although that has become part of it. I'm more interested in the way people will isolate themselves in public to avoid talking to strangers, the majority of whom are probably nice people. Ok, so I grew up in a town where you didn't really have to worry about strangers, and pretty much everyone would talk to you, say hello in passing and stuff. But living in the city has given me a different view of group socialisation.

If you sat next to someone on a bus (someone who by chance did not have their personal music player deafening them and shutting out the "real world") and tried to start a conversation with them, chances are they would ignore you, make non-committal responses, or move seats. Some times people will talk to you, but that is usually to ask questions like "Do you have the time?" or "How late is the bus?!" , that kinda jazz. So why? I figure it's because they're scared. Hey, I can understand that, I often listen to music on public transport. But it still bothers me, and I'm aware of it because people seem to find me approachable (even when I've got music in my ears, and I make sure it isn't deafening me).

Thing is, people don't want to talk to people they don't know. Quite possibly (probably) this is because there is a chance the person right next to them at the bus stop is a bit strange. But honestly, your average person isn't going to get all weird (unless you talk to them, then they might think you were strange). Is this defence inbuilt in our subconscious? Or is it something we've developed because of the way society is today, complete with all it's warnings and moral panics.

The way I see it, it's definitely something worth thinking about.

Thursday

I almost forgot my blog today. At this stage it doesn't seem like it would matter (I doubt there are many avid readers out there at the moment), but for the sake of my own compulsiveness, I'd like to be able to not miss a day.

I spent a lot of the morning reading Stephen King's "The Dark Tower", the final book in a series of the same name. I read them all a couple of years ago, but there is so much about them I'd forgotten, or not fully understood. One of the things I like about re-reading books is that you pick up on so much more stuff second (or third or fourth or fifth) time around. Especially when there is a gap of more than a year. A lot of references I missed last time I am now getting, and it makes SK's already brilliant skills even more so, and the text a lot richer with levels of meaning. Plus, seeing as Postmodernism is still lurking in my peripheral vision, I can appreciate a lot of the techniques he uses in this series.

I also did more research for my major journalism assignment this semester. I spent a lot of time searching the net for different things and it looks like I finally got somewhere. I just can't tell you where that is.

After spending today at home, and not frantically trying to get work done for once, I don't particularly feel like getting up early tomorrow and making the trek to uni. But we are starting the copyright module for media law, and I am looking forward to it. "Looking forward to it?!" you might ask, in shock. But yes, strange as it might seem, I am really enjoying learning about the law. Personally I can't say I'd ever want to be a lawyer, or anything like that, but I find it really interesting stuff. That, and my lecturer makes it entertaining.

Until tomorrow, don't forget the pineapple.

Twelfth Hour

I finally left uni on the twelfth hour of being there today. Yep, I was there from 9am to 9pm, and only 6 hours of that was in class stuff. The other six hours were divided up into an hour of chatting with uni friends, an hour of emailing uni group members and other friends, and four hours of research. And despite the four hours, I just realised I have more important research to do. Never mind.

Thing seem to be falling into place nicely now, and the post-mid-semester panic I've been feeling over the past few days is somewhat subsiding. Thankfully. Although, it would be nice if group members would turn up to classes, especially with only three weeks left before a 50% performance and 30% folio is due. You'd think they could do that, right? Apparently not. So three out of five of the people in my group spent today working on our performance and when we can meet up. Too bad if they have issues with it as far as I'm concerned. Welcome Focused, Firm Standing Amy Who Will Tell Unreliable Group Members What's What.

In other news, the play I am in really is only 20 minutes, and I am very happy to say the 20 minutes the new-fangled directors have chosen only needs me for two of the six scenes they're doing. That means I don't have as many rehearsals (yay), lines or responsibilities as I'd expected which, in turn, means I am not so stressed. And while tonight was not an Amy Scenes night, I went along and practiced my directorial and dramaturgical skills. One of the directors even thanked me for my input and complimented my ideas.

I'm currently reading plays by Patrick Marber, and I am still surprised by texts which actually make me giggle while I'm reading. Picture this: AMY is sitting at a table in the vast University Library, reading away quietly while the multitude of students around her read quietly. She turns the page and suddenly bursts into gales of giggles, making quite a few heads turn in her direction. So absorbed in what she is reading, AMY does not notice and continues to read, intermittently giggling.

I'll keep you posted.

The Bad and the Boring

Why is there intrinsically bad music when you're put on hold in the middle of a phone call? I don't understand the meaning of it. Do people have a checklist they go through before setting up a hold line? I can just imagine it: a bunch of people in business suits sitting around a telephone. Slightly fake and patronising voice saying somefting about everyone being busy? Check. A minimum five minute wait to ward off the time wasters? Check. A notice about the call possibly being recorded? Check. Intrinsically bad music? Double-check, AND we've turned it up really loud.

I don't mind being on hold for a few minutes, but my current length is 24min 45secs and rising. How is that customer service?

34min and 50sec later I finally got on to a person.

Any guesses for what the second thing they said to me was?

"Could you please hold for a minute?"

A loooong day

Handing in an assignment, doing three hours of In-Yer-Face Theatre, walking aimlessly around Southbank for an hour or so THEN going to a production of Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolfe makes for a very long day. Still, being the academically driven, experiential nutcase and eager theatre-goer I am, it was pretty good.

I was blown away by the performances in Virginia Woolfe. But after the In-Yer-Face class today, it was all quite draining and for once I don't have that much to say.

Maybe tomorrow?