I left my what in what?

You know you’ve become too much of a regular when a local pub asks you, on Facebook no less, if you could come round to help put up Halloween decorations. That’s my Monday afternoon sorted, bwaha!

However, it is time to become very un-local for the next couple of days as I am off to Freiburg. Freiburg you say? On Freitag? Shudder the thought! (Yep, that was exactly what you were thinking!) ’tis the day to see Isabel, my merry companion of Jailbreaks, Who Doctors and Channies Challenges. Nothing like a spontaneous, cross-country train ride, having not seen the cursed wench since August, it is time to hitch up our nostalgia and run like the wind or something. So yeah probs not going blogs for 3 days in a row, but that tends to be a fairly regular occurrence anyhow.

Before going, I will ask you this, how much dub can a dub step dub if a dubstep dub stepped dub?

And remember, you all only have one true wrinkle, and you’re sitting on it.

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I keel yew

Be with Hoot my child, now go find me a young mouse.

Last Night saw me attend the first rehearsal of the semester for the Anglistik drama group’s production of Hamlet, and upon asking Last Night of his opinion, it was good. Was interesting entering a production where the cast had been chosen previously, being the odd one out in a collection of established friendships, in-jokes and mutual experiences can be a tad off putting in theory. Thankfully, they’re a pretty wicked bunch with whom settling in was not an issue. Especially when it came to engaging in characterisation, where for one of my roles, a priest, it was decided the best animal to impersonate was an owl. What a hoot. Post-rehearsal pub times showed that evidently there’s a subatomic focus running through all drama groups and no matter where you are, it will be the same wherever you go. When there’s alcohol, music and dramatic personas, all is well.

Still bricking it about having to choreograph the duel, what I thought was going to be an “assistant” job is now looking to be a fully fledged, all-responsible dramatic duty. Incompetence = death xD

Flight home got booked too! 17th December to the 7th January, missing the final week of term, because I actually want a holiday. Permission has been granted which gives me 49 days to live it up in ol’ Heideltown before carting back for the celebratory gift to the world.

In other news, I dreamed I was a lesbian. Felt too real for comfort.

Mephisto Piles

 

Church Chairs. Never has alliteration held such awkward connotations. On saturday, in an act of cultural extension, a few of us decided to see a screening of the 1926 classic silent film; Faustus. Played alongside this was a live accompaniment of some vary talented, if haunting, organ music. This screening, however was inside a church. What a fantastic setting you may say, and it certainly fitted the aesthetic mood. That is, until you had sat down for more than 10minutes. Maybe my derrière is just that much more sensitive, but either way, what followed was 2 hours of constant shuffling whilst trying not to disturb Mark or Owen who sat on either side of me.

Everyday I’m shufflin’…. onanincrediblyuncomfortablechairthatisflatteningmybackside.

… Doesn’t have quite the same ring to it.

I just want to ask what part of being a devoted Christian has to do with experience unbearable bubble butt agony whilst in service. Surely the service of all things is the one time when a devout being of faith should be at their most content, unless you’re Jehova’s Witness, at which point I daresay the opening of someone else’s front door is the closest to nirvana you should receive. Surely, if people are wiling to attend prayer, faith and philosophical services every week and devote themselves to a religion, that said religion would at least provide them with cushions.

Though maybe this is all just because we were watching a film surrounding the selling of one’s soul to the Devil for hedonistic purposes…

Bussy bleh.

You don’t wipe your arse whilst you’re still shitting, do ya? And on this same note, people of Heidelberg and other German transport stops: when people are getting OFF a bus, you wait for them to do so, before forcing your way on.

Initially I thought it was an example of a far more relaxed culture, until today when I had to actually push back a man and hold him there whilst an old lady took her time to step down onto the pavement. The eager fool had made the first step that would’ve caused an onslaught of people to barge onto the bus, which would’ve knocked me sideways, and thrown the woman to the floor. Seriously, if you’re that desperate for a seat, buy some more furniture.

In other news, I have received the part of Oliver in As You Like It which is rather lovely, and have also been given a few small roles in Hamlet, before then being asked to choreograph and teach the sword combat in act 5. Someone’s going to get kebab’d :/

Whoopsydaisy.

K. So failed in not sounding like a nonce. How very homosexual. Also failed in making those posts last all day, but when you’ve gotta make a full sunday roast alongside 5 others, some priorities get lost. If it helps, it was the most delicious roast ever, and you didn’t get any of it. HA!

Anyway.

Thursday

I did something I haven’t properly done in over 2 years, and that was audition. Back in Second year, I auditioned for a Theatre Studies production “echo”, which unfortunately never saw light, but that was just 5 minute improv, barely anything. However, not since I stepped trembling into the second MADSoc workshop, holding a script for the character of Goodford, all the way back in my first year of university, have I had to perform like that in front of a panel of judges. Found out as well that all the big parts had already been cast over the summer, which I think is pretty unfair for new students, but ahh wellities, still gave it ago.

Best moment was halfway through the audition, I was asked to push the guy I was acting alongside. OK sure. I looked up at the man I was gonna have to shove, and kept on looking up. In what was possibly the most limp-wristed act of violence ever, I pushed the 6’4” giant’s chest whilst tantruming about penury.

He fell back about half a step.

Catch up!

 

Unfinished projects are always a pain the backside, particularly when one’s unfinished project may involve your very own backside. In this situation however, I realised that I’ve developed a habit of writing blogs, but not finishing them, so as the day continues, I shall be posting these blogs, rounding off each paragraph. In which, I hope to be writing a little less like a nonce.

Wednesday

Anyone mind explaining how, when you don’t have a seminar until 4pm, you can somehow leave everything you need to do that day until 3.59pm? I have the whooooooole day to myself and any silveries that may pertain, yet do bugger all until I need to leave. Youtube, thou art mine nemesis. The seminar, however, was awesome. Even if someone did categorically say that Hamlet was 100% thirty years old. (For those who haven’t had Shakespeare shoved down their throat – his works, I mean – Hamlet’s age is unconfirmed except for a line stated by a Gravedigger in Act 5 that has appeared different in each version, implying that Hamlet is either 16, 17, 27 or 30. But the more popular one gets taken as fact. Hm.) Still, at least we haven’t gotten onto the categorical fact that Hamlet definitely fancied his mother…

Today was the day of the drama society’s first meeting, aside from one American whose name I shan’t ever be able to pronounce, I was the only on there for whom english was their first language. Turns out the castings for Hamlet and As You Like It have mostly been done and all that’s left are small parts but should be fun nonetheless. Met a wicked dude who dressed like Sherlock Holmes, and told me he would give his right arm be British. I think I’d gladly take that right arm and beat some sense into him with it 😛

Exempt from the rule.

 

Insomnia came round to play last night, for the third night in a row, what can I say, he’s a party animal. Not getting asleep until 7, one can understand that it was difficult to rise in the morning. But up I get, for after all, if I miss 2 seminars per semester, I fail the module! One bizarrely choreographed dance of dressing and a high speed brushing of the teeth later, and I was pelting toward the bus stop,catching the eye of a friend, who then promptly fell off his bike.

My eyes evidently have that power.

In the course of helping him to his feet, I missed my bus! Alas, await another 10minutes whilst a balding man stares for a worryingly long time at my groin. Get to town but the bus was the 34 and not the 35 and anybody whose anybody knows that the 34 only takes you to Bismarktplatz and not Marstallstrasse, so off I get and hurry I do to get there on time weaving through dawdling Germans and wandering pigeons! Wonderful, I just made it in the nick of time!

To find my tutor is ill and class is off for the day.

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