We are group D. Yesterday after orientation I came down to the lobby to find Matt and Kate dictating to the group, made up of then-strangers all sitting in a circle. Now, being theatre people, we are all shamelessly in each other's business. Matt is kind of our... Mother Hen. He wears it with pride. He announces where our next class is being held and makes sure that everyone is accounted for. I like it. Trevor, from North Carolina, is our token feminine-but-no-one-knows-if-he's-gay kid, whom I call Nicknamer McGee. He insists on giving everyone nicknames. He calls me Legs because I have ridiculously long legs and because I wore shorts yesterday and also because I wore spandex shorts in our dance class today. He calls other people by the city they are from. My scene partner is called Vancouver... (why I keep getting stuck with Canadians in my dorms and theatre classes I don't know.) He's a pleasantly plump kid with earrings and glasses and a truly delightful chuckle. We had fun exploring the New York Public Library at Lincoln Center today and were scheming how we could get our hands on their endless archives of Broadway productions that have been filmed over the years... it makes me drool to think of it. Reagan (that's her real name, not her city, or a nickname) is from Alabama. She says "yes ma'am" and "yes sir" and it freaks our calloused New York acting teachers out. She also has no uvula. Gean-Marco Soressi is not Italian. He just looks 100% Italian and has an Italian name and kind of speaks with an Italian accent. He was genuinely confused when everyone kept asking him where he was from upon meeting him. "Washington D.C.," he would answer, as if it were obvious. He is so bizarre.
The walk home from Barnes and Noble tonight (after reading the entire "Letters to a Young Poet" by Rilke, because I didn't want to buy it and because it's due first thing tomorrow morning) was kind of lonely! I was walking by all these restaurants and seeing couples sharing their dinner, swooning over candlelight, filling up on pasta or sushi or cheesecake or wine. And after a day of dancing and tromping around mid-town looking for copies of plays to read and scenes that should be memorized by next week I was pretty exhausted and I just wanted to be home. (And isn't it remarkable that this IS my home?) Luckily I had just read Rilke's advice in a letter to Kappus which said,
"Do not be frightened if a sadness rises up before you larger than any you have ever seen. You must think that something is happening with you, not that life has forgotten you."
I loved that and it brought me comfort after such a long day. More tomorrow, praise be to Allah! I am still constantly surprised to be here! I really hope I wake up here again. That would be the best.
Love.
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