Happy/Sad

Things that made me happy this week (in more or less chronological order):

• Being invited along to a birthday dinner with strangers in Brussels and getting new friends, free champagne (and wine and whiskey and beer), and late-night dancing out of the deal
• Big amazing Sunday brunch at Katie's flat in Brussels
• Cuddling with Baerbel after getting back from Brussels
• Bank Holiday!
• Being told I'm not an asshole, that people are proud of me
• Pints of Hoegaarden, shots of Jack Daniels
• A houseful of lovely, loved people over for dinner, staying for drinks, not a one of whom went home
• Coffee. Coffee. Coffee.
• Bowling!
• Breaking 100 on my first game (ahem114ahem)
• Air Hockey!
• Introducing Baerbel to the wonders of air hockey
• Shaking one's booty to trashy hip hop
• New dresses from Amsterdam and generally looking hot
• Cycling through central London with Heather
• Unexpected phone calls from Simon that make me beam
• When goodbyes don't feel like goodbyes
• Beers by the fountain at Tottenham Ct Rd, two inches from traffic at 9pm on a Thursday
• Salsa dancing
• Early morning text messages telling me I'm missed
• Plans for poetry night (tonight!)

Things that made me sad this week

• That people get their hearts broken, and that relationships fall apart. Even the ones that seem unshakeable. Even the ones that have had so much work put into them, and so many commitments made.
• Rebecca and Jed leaving. Not knowing when I'll see them again (though I know I will)
• More and more, realising LISPA is over, people are leaving, people have left
• Not being able to justify the purchases of new shoes, new dresses, new wardrobe

So really, all in all, not a bad week.

Non-negotiable

Right. I am setting myself a non-negotiable bedtime of 11pm at the LATEST tonight. It's three thirty in the afternoon, I've had three largish coffees, I'm jittery, and I'm yawning. Clearly nothing but some good old fashioned sleep will do.

The exhaustion comes as a result of fun, of course. Bowling and air hockey last night as a send-off to Rebecca and Jed, and people over for dinner and drinks at our house the night before. It is terrifying, though, how quickly a well-rested look, accrued over the course of a week of vacation, dissipates. Tonight is the night for sleep.

Especially since tomorrow night is the night for salsa. Also known as non-negotiable fun.

(PS There will be an entry about Amsterdam and Brussels, promise.)

Amsterdam

Oh, did I mention I'm going to Amsterdam? Well, I am. Matter of fact, I'm in Amsterdam right now! Or just outside it, at a quiet little greeny cabin-y hostel called Lucky Lake (awww). Janna is flying in tonight (!!!!), so adventures can ensue then. After I take a nap - 11 hours on a bus across three? four? countries sure can take it out of a girl.

We're in Amsterdam until Friday, and then Janna's off to Paris, and I'm off to Brussels to meet up with Katie, one of my flatmates from senior year of college. It should be a fun week, and as soon as I get rid of my fatigue-induced zombie stare, I'll start showing my excitement. But now, bed. Mmmmm duvet and bunk beds....

Cuddle vs. Culture

I'm a little sleepy today, a little fatigued, and though I have tickets to the theatre tonight, what I really want is my bed, a book, a mug of tea, and a cuddle.

Especially the cuddling part.

Changing my tune

Just got my payslip for this month.

I LOVE WORKING FULL-TIME! LOVE IT, LOVE IT, LOVE IT!

The Rage, or Why I don't belong in an office

It's 3:30pm on a Wednesday, and I'm getting the Rage.

You know the Rage? That simmering, stewing mix of inexplicable anger and frustration that takes over when the end of the work day is in sight, and yet still So Far Away? That restlessness and anxiety and aimless aggression from sitting still and staring at a computer screen too long? I've been getting the Rage a lot lately. Most notably a couple of days last week, and yesterday at about quarter past four.

The fact that it's sneaking in earlier today can't be a good sign. And it's only Wednesday.

Here's the thing. I don't *hate* my job. In many ways, I'm incredibly lucky to have the job I do. But that doesn't change the fact that I want to be outside, my body wants to move, and my brain wants to be utilised for more than answering phones and constantly checking email. And the mornings (always bolstered by the comforting presence of my friend Mocha, these days) never seem too bad - it's coming back from lunch at 3 and the subsequent two hours that make me want to break shit.

Luckily, the Rage tends to dissipate pretty quickly after leaving work. Cycling out all my aggression (made it home in 45 minutes yesterday! Woo hoo!), or the simple fact of being at home, not at work, makes life so much prettier. Last night was a blissful combination of pizza, beer, and chats with friends (online [Lindsay], on the phone [Cecile], AND in real space/time [Martha]), tonight Aram's coming over to watch The Imposters, and tomorrow and Friday will bring a play and salsa dancing, respectively. That's the other silver lining - evenings are magic when you're stuck in an office all day.

In other news, this past weekend was really lovely. Over the course of the two days I cleaned my room (Hoovering and all), watched movies and had a homecooked dinner with Diogo, drinks with Karim, and late-night online chat marathons with many, many friends that I hadn't spoken to in a long while. I've also been spending my lunch breaks with my new dear friend Nisha who works in Student Finance and Support, wherein we spend as much energy on being sardonic and making each other laugh as we do on wolfing down our paninis. Today the electronic automated baby grand piano in the McDonald's (stopped by for a McFlurry) was on the cutting end of our barbs. All sorts of fantasies were detailed in which the piano met a new and inventive kind of gruesome demise. Never have I taken such pleasure in imagining the destruction of what is ostensibly a musical instrument (though I would more readily dub this particular object an instrument of torture).

Maybe it's the November rain in August that's bringing out a darker edge in my sense of humour these days.

Then again, perhaps it's just the Rage.

Flights I have bought

September 28th
Depart London, Arrive Porto, Portugal

November 10th
Depart Porto, Arrive London

November 22nd
Depart London, Arrive Minneapolis

January 10th
Depart Minneapolis, Arrive London

Old friends revisited

It started innocuously enough - just plans for a coffee and catch-up after work. But then, we decided we wanted cocktails instead. And then, when the bar we found didn't serve capirinhas, we decided to order a glass of wine - or should we just get a whole bottle? Let's just buy the whole bottle. And once that bottle was gone, and we were tipsy and realised neither of us had eaten dinner, there was nothing for it but to go to the Sun and Splendour and order food. And another bottle of Chardonnay. Laughter, confessions, and ill-advised text messages followed, and finally a late-night weaving home on the tube.

And so it came to pass that one of my best friends from the third grade is back in my life. Three cheers for Veronika!

I should; I wonder

• I should go to hospital to get my left pinky checked out. (I wounded it while playing Invisible Volleyball almost three weeks ago now and it has not mended itself as expected.) I wonder what I did to it.
• I should learn Portugese before I leave on the 28th Sept. I wonder if I can teach myself.
• I should book my flight home. I wonder if NWA will replace my (ostensibly lost) flight voucher.
• I should clean my room. I wonder if I'll find my flight voucher.
• I should call the Circus Space to book another acrobatics carnet. I wonder if the Friday night class is full.

Such is the output of the idle mind, left to its own devices at work. Ugh.

Before you get concerned...

I'm feeling much better today.

Ergh.

I'm feeling a bit off today. Maybe my body and heart are starting to realise that LISPA is over - that this isn't just another term break, and it really is finished. Maybe it's just the frustration of the 9-5 office worker on a Monday morning. Maybe it has to do with not taking care of myself before others (which I'm realising more and more is sooooo important).

It's also possible, counterintuitive though it may be, that this mostly nameless frustration and anxiety has to do with plans becoming a reality. This past weekend I booked flights to Portugal from 28th Sept until 10th Nov, as did Cecile, which means that we really are going to do this show. (It sounds like Martha's on board as well, though I haven't talked to her, and I can only hope that Aram will follow suit in his own sweet time.) Diogo's trying to line up some workshops, as well, which means that we'd be teaching when we weren't rehearsing, and potentially earning a good amount of money - certainly enough to pay our (minimal) living expenses and then some. Exciting, of course, but now that it's actually happening, all the butterflies of will-it-happen have translated a bit into what-have-we-gotten-ourselves-into nerves. Also part of the ticket-booking frenzy: Ana's been talking to me about coming to Madrid for a weekend to see her, and I booked my coach to Amsterdam to meet up with Janna, then to Brussels to see Katie for the week from the 17th til the 24th. And if I know what's good for me, I'll book my flight back to Minneapolis today, or tomorrow. (Or the day after. Anxiety lends itself to procrastination.)

Things are falling into place in the way I hoped they would. So why do I feel so malcontent?

Plans

Keeping in mind that nothing is set in stone, and that adage about the best-laid plans, here's a possible road map of the coming months and years.

I'm in London, working and enjoying the summer and the city, until my visa and lease expire at the end of September. During September, I'll be composing music for Finger in the Pie's Christmas show, based on Hans Christian Andersen's The Snow Queen. I will be paid handsomely for doing so. Yay!

At the end of Sept, there's a very good chance I'll be flying to Portugal to live and work with Diogo and others (hopefully Cecile, Aram, and Martha, maybe more). We'd spend all of October living in Espino, outside of Porto on the coast, and then possibly touring whatever it is we create. Diogo has said we can stay with him for free, and he has free rehearsal space as well. Double yay!

(And who knows? If we're in Portugal anyway, maybe that road trip to Morocco could happen after all!)

In November, I'll come back to London for anywhere from 1-3 weeks to say hi to Dad, my friends here, this city. Then home for Thanksgiving!

And Gem and Mark's wedding!

And Christmas!

And New Year's!

Then, Jan 10th or thereabouts, back to London. Alex has asked me to be a deviser and performer for the production of Sweeney Todd that Finger in the Pie is working on. Not at all the Sondheim version, this is an originally devised piece that uses maskwork and puppetry and the original urban myth of Sweeney Todd and the corresponding historical backdrop as a political allegory. We'd rehearse and devise for January, and perform in February and March. Again, I would be well-paid. Again, yay!

As far as I can tell, I'll be back in the States by the end of March. Where in the States, I'm not sure. My dear friend and collaborator Erin is looking for funding to continue work on her final project, which was a beautiful (if I do say so myself) meditation on AIDS and dying with dignity inspired by a Studs Terkel book.... did I mention this already? Yes. Anyway, the hope is that funding will come through for that, in which case we'd get together to further devise and perform that piece, possibly at Fringe Festivals, possibly in LA. This plan could possibly take me all the way through fall 2009.

Also, Alex has made it clear that if for whatever reason Erin's show falls through, I'm encouraged to rejoin the Sweeney Todd cast for the Edinburgh Fringe in Aug 2009 and another festival in London that Oct.

Then, today, I had the opportunity to speak with my dear and talented friend Abhishek. Abhi is a wonderful man and playwright from Bangalore, India, who I had the great pleasure of working with when we were in class together for the first year of LISPA. He left after the first year, but is coming back this fall to do the second, and has also been offered a place at Stanford for the fall of 2009 to do a PhD and playwriting fellowship (!!!), the idea being that he'd spend the first two years on campus and then would bounce back and forth between the States and Kashmir making incredible work. Cue our conversation about how I should be a part of that work, and how pumped we both are to make relevant, international theatre. So there's that collaboration and opportunity to look forward to in the coming years as well.

I am so unbelievably fortunate. This is what I am meant to do with my life. This, this, this.