Alright, not going to lie, I am pretty done with New York City. I’ve been sitting around my room all morning trying– and failing– to do homework. Zero motivation, for either my homework or going out into the city, which I am nearly always game to do. There are only 10 days until I leave, though, and there is the chance (more probably than not, really) that I will get re-inspired and excited by The City.
Terry and I did our first complete run of our show yesterday! We did two, actually, the second one for my parents who were visiting for the holiday. It was also the first time anyone besides strangers in the park have seen any of our show except the two of us. My parents got all of the right messages from it, though, and pretty much followed it, so success! It was exciting putting the whole thing together.
I made a rather large social blunder last week. We have an architecture class on this program, which consists mostly of walking tours around the city and the occasional paper. I like our teacher during the walking tours just fine, but he and I don’t see eye to eye very well when it comes to our papers. As in, I was extremely frustrated, to the point of forwarding one of the teacher’s emails to my father to ask my father’s advise, and in the forwarded message calling my professor a rather impolite name. Now, readers, you should never call your profs names in any case, but especially refrain from it when you click “reply” instead of “forward.” (If you’re thinking, “ooh, awkward…” that would be the correct response.) I didn’t realize what I had done until I got a rather cold email back from him, at which point– after feeling sorry for myself for a bit– I set to crafting an extremely eloquent apology email. Figuring the subject had already been breached, after my apology I went on to detail why I was so frustrated with him and his paper assignment. I received a reply saying apology accepted… and that my paper wasn’t so bad after all. I’m fairly certain I won’t be getting an A in that class, though. Unless its an A for my Apology letter. Haha, I tentatively brought it up to Stepan, my trip leader, though, and he started cracking up. He had already heard all about the situation from my architecture teacher, and he (of course) thought it was hilarious. Apparently the two of them had had a good laugh about it. But yeah, don’t try this at home, kids!
I went up to Boston for a few days before ThanksGiving to meet my folks and see my Mom’s side of the family. It was lovely to get out of the city for a few days, though it was weird being in the suburbs– there was so much room, and grass, and not enough people…! I took the train up there and enjoyed a lovely ride: I had the Atlantic off to my right for most of the way and rural towns and woods the rest of the time. On the way back to the city I drove with my parents and we got stuck in traffic– much less fun.
We had Thanks Giving with an old friend of my Mom’s in the city. With the exception of a twelve year old boy, everyone there (about 18 people) was in their mid-fifties or older– around 80 was the norm, I would say. And I had met my Mom’s friend once, and otherwise knew no one. It was a really nice dinner, though! I chatted with old ladies who have lived in the city for decades, and most of the company was very well theatre-versed, so I engaged in some excellent conversations about the current theater in the city, of which I have been so well exposed (thank you, Stepan). It was fun being essentially the youngest participant in the conversation, and feeling like the company not only welcomed my contributions, but were pleasantly surprised by them. Good stuff. (or stuffing, I should say… hehe!)
And now, I think, some lunch, to put off the homework a little longer. Fair wind and following seas, everyone.