No, really, I DO exist

Just to quell all of those internet rumors that my dear husband has chopped me up and hidden me under the floor-boards...here I am, alive and kicking (and posting!)

It's been a rough old couple of weeks. We have hit major assessment time at school, which means our class is constantly being scuntinized by our tutors for any signs (however vague or remote) that we have absorbed something (anything!) of what we've been taught this term. The biggest hurdle has proven to be the swirling whirlwind vibe of panic and resisting getting sucked down into it full force.

I guess I have an advantage over some of my class in that I've been through similar periods of stress and assessment at my last drama school, and so this process is vaguely familiar. Hopefully I'm able to learn from my experience and keep it all in perspective as well i.e. I'm no longer say to myself, "Oh god, if I don't absolutely nail this vocal warm-up where I lie on the floor and go, "huh HUH", they're going to chuck me out of the school!"

It's a funny old thing, though, to see what stress does to people and how they react under pressure. There was definitely some cracking on the part of my classmates. Tears, rage, and general bitchiness were in the air. I am a bit sad that my new group doesn't seem to be as supportive and generous towards each other as were my colleagues of drama schools past. Sometimes I do wonder where my kindred spirits are among them. Sometimes I feel really advanced and deeply wise and talented in comparison - and sometimes I feel like I know nothing and that they're all miles ahead of me. It's what is known as "actor's teetor-totter syndrome".... or it is now that I've coined the phrase, anyways.

We get the results of all these assessments in ye grande olde "feed-back" session this Friday, where we are sent in, naughty school-child like, to shuffle in our chairs before a panel of teacher people. I'll let you know kids....

In other news, lots of great film and theatre abound! And I have no time to see any of it! Must make effort this week and over Xmas holidays to get more cultured. Who has time to be cultured when you're training to make culture??

Also, Edukator and I have taken to jogging together nightly - mostly so I can defend his honour against any roving marauding Essex "youf" we may chance upon. We've become "the couple who jogs together." I know - let me be the first to offer you a barf bag.

And finally (because I love a good list!), I leave you with some details of things I do (when I'm not balancing on one arm in a dance studio reciting Blake poems, that is):

a) laundry. Endless laundry. This is because our washing machine is the size of a small basket ball - one pair of the Husband's jeans fills it to capacity. And it's in the kitchen. Hello, Britain!

b) walking. Lots of walking. We are a bit spoilt for walks, as there are some lovely bits of green fields and countryside out in the sticks. There's a really lovely hill right near our house with rather poignant 3 oak trees atop it - it's quite nice to hike up and watch the sunrise across the land.

c) shopping. Our fridge is the size of a cat-carrier. Shopping is a daily ritual. The Husband hates this, but I quite enjoy it. I pretend I'm a French woman, off to market with my panier. Our local Sainsbury's somewhat shatters this illusion: it's low-ceiling, dark, and dingy, like some ex-communist horror, complete with mysterious shortages of fairly staple foods on a regular basis. The Roomate and I look at it other, shrug, and remark stoically, "oh well, no milk today!"

d) make tea. Lots and lots of tea. Gone are my merry days of take-out coffees. They are too expensive here and, as we live in Essex, you are more likely to get an eel pie or a kehab than a coffee. This is why most people can be found:

e) going to the pub. When you're sick of doing laundry, buying food, and walking in the rain, there's nowhere else to go. There's no place like Essex...