My apologies for not posting on Friday as I had promised! I was staying at a youth hostel all weekend which had advertised internet access, but failed to mention that it came with a price and I am a complete miser with the exception of spending on my friends occasionally. Anyhow, on to the week!
I gave birth this week. Your first thought might be "Why on earth would you post something like that on the internet, especially since you're eighteen!?" and I would understand that. However, your second thought, or your first if you're quick, might be "Wait, you're a guy." I just wanted to catch your attention really. Anyhow, in sociology class on Monday, we were discussing all manner of achieving goals, from conforming (working hard) to innovating (crime and cheating) to rebelling (scorning a goal publicly and rejecting it). My teacher apparently wanted to epitomize this by having someone pretend to birth a baby. However, he did not tell anyone what his plan was when he asked for a good actor to volunteer. I wasn't even paying attention at the time when a girl volunteered me. Before I knew it, I was dragged into the hall and told to stuff a sweatshirt under my shirt and, before the whole class while still in my suit and tie, go into labor. In short, I disconnected my mind from my body, huffed and puffed, knocked over a few things, quoted a few lines from the movie "Juno" (I think you know which ones if you've seen it), screamed, yelled, and swore at the top of my lungs. I don't think that I have ever said "fuck" in front of a teacher before, no less fifteen times in five minutes. As if the class had not had enough profanity and wackiness from me, they asked me to rap the next day. That one I turned down, considering that the only rap that I really know is by the Hollywood Undead and I doubt that a poor British sociology teacher would get the rather *ahem* vivid satire. Needless to say, the birthing scene spread about the school like wildfire and I was hearing about it from guys across campus a mere hour later at lunch. It was actually kind of fun!
Oh yeah! I've also managed to get myself enmeshed in three plays here. Don't worry too much, as they are short, but it's a little confusing getting the scheduling straight along with everything else. However, the absolute absurdity of two of the plays makes up for it. For example, in the Arts Awards pantomime of Snow White et al, I have been cast as "The Dame" who is supposed to be even more comic relief on top of what we already have. I must, for one, find a guy in the audience to embarrass by calling him my one true love, bringing him onto the stage, and then singing for him. Now here's the problem: We haven't decided upon a song yet. So far, it's between Single Ladies (Beyonce), Drop It Like It's Hard, and Don't You Want Me Baby?. Yeah. This is gonna be interesting. Ah, hell! If I can give birth in sociology, then I can shake my booty on stage! I had to miss the meeting regarding my costume this week, but people keep on telling my that the dress is "interesting." As if saying "the dress you have to wear" isn't bad enough, they have to put that certain inflection into "interesting" to give me a brief chill. I'm going to have fun with this either way, but if they make me put on something too absurd, there's going to be blood.
I made a mistake in scheduling as well. I was invited to someone's eighteenth birthday party for the weekend, but didn't make the connection and signed up for a trip to Stratford-Upon-Avon for a weekend immersed in Shakespeare and theater and very boring tours that I would have rather spent in a pub. If I hadn't already paid the money for the trip, I might have gone to the party, but I do enjoy history and sight-seeing and drama, so I went. Apparently the party was an absolutely amazing madhouse with no injuries by the end except for headaches and one guy's hand from punching a wall. Someone please remind me, if it ever comes between a school trip with some friends or a party with friends and lots of girls and drink, to choose the fucking party! On the bright side, I was introduced to Jager Bombs which are actually pretty delicious. Just to those colleges and universities that might be stalking me while I'm applying to school or for any wayward teacher, I will remind you that I am eighteen years old in England. This is all perfectly legal and no laws were broken, no one was hurt, and I woke without a headache or any problems except for a numb patch on my lip that still hasn't quite faded. Is that a coincidence? It feels like I've had a little Novocain injected into that one spot. Eh, I'll give it a couple more days.
I also experienced what amounted to a British four year-old's birthday party this weekend for another guys eighteenth birthday and was introduced to such mysteries as "Pass the Parcel." We were allowed a bit of drink by the teachers for the occasion. My inhibitions have fallen slightly, so it only took one hard cider to prompt me into dancing with a bunch of old people to old Rock 'n' Roll and waving to the people recording me. I think that I picked up the twist pretty quickly, but fun as it was, I was otherwise just flailing.
After that we wandered the town on, as I said, several dull tours, one of which was excruciatingly boring for most of us and pretty lifeless for me, watched the Royal Shakespeare Company perform Hamlet, which was one of the best productions of it I have seen, albeit not quite the best nor my favorite, and interviewed two people in the theater business, both of whom were old friends of our drama teacher. None of that was in chronological order, but you understand. In short, one interviewee was Pippa Nixon who played Ophelia that night, a very amiable and verbose woman (look up the word and you'll understand exactly what I mean), and Judy Methuen who was, in my opinion, far more interesting if anything by virtue of the conversation setting, rather than strict Q and A. Mrs. Methuen spent most of her life making props and sets for theater and some films and had some stories to tell and wisdom to impart, such as the paramount importance of being seen and visually recognized by important people to advance one's career, which I had already suspected was true. Oh, and we aptly embarrassed the birthday boy by coercing him into acting with some street performers and having the entire gathered audience sing a "Shakespearean Happy Birthday" song to him. I'm going to let you're imaginations toy with that one.
If I wasn't applying to university right now, again due to a technicality rather than lack of ability (God this is painful!), I would relate more... interesting stories from the weekend, but, considering the stories I have heard of the persistence and the invasive natures of universities, I shall refrain, even though I did not, strictly speaking, break any laws. However, once I have sent my applications and hear back from most of them in December, I might be a little more free with my speech.
Again, please send me ANY comments or criticisms via the blog or, if you actually know me, Facebook. They would really help to improve the blog and me as a writer. I'm going to start jotting down funny happenings throughout the week as I go now, so I might better entertain you. Until then, good night and adieu (or should I say "cheerio?")!
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