Eish! London 18 August

Tuesday, 18 August

As I'm on ‘Summer Holidays’ at the moment, I had hoped to get some work as a Second Language English Teacher; but that fell through. So I had to take "leave". At least I had myEdinburghtrip to look forward to the following week. That would be quite an experience I reckoned, and far more in line with why I came toLondonin the first place.

I received this email in response to the long one I sent out yesterday. I had to share it with you as it made me ‘laugh out loud’ and feel like I’m not so alone in the dramatics I turn my life into (I hope Jo doesn’t kill me):

From: Jo
Subject: Re: EPIC email from me...
Date: Tuesday, 18 August, 2009, 12:29

Hi Shannan,

As a child my Grandmother lived in Romsey in Hampshire on a farm and we visited Salisbury Cathedral and Stonehenge frequently. In those days, none of it was fenced as the new age Druids had not made it an issue, so we all walked amongst the stones as you did. Sometimes, we were the only ones there – it’s quite unworldly isn’t it? I love that part of the UK, I don’t know if you noticed the White Horses on the way, drawn on the hillsides in Chalk, or maybe that was another route we took?

I shared a house in Cape Town years ago, so I know all the pros and cons. We were 2 men, 2 women and one huge shaggy, well behaved, clean Bouvier dog called Joyce, who was never a problem. One of the guys would complain bitterly about the woman who chose to bath – we all showered – so we told him if she wanted to bath that was her constitutional right. He was SO anally retentive – his room was immaculate – everything lined up on his dressing table. She made loads of phone calls but she would then pay the entire bill and we would all pay our portions. This infuriated him! Her bedroom was like a toxic dump – but she was not too bad in the rest of the house – so we persuaded her to keep her bedroom door closed, because it upset him when he walked past to his room. I ended up the peacemaker in the house (go figure that one Shannan!) We took turns to cook Monday-Thursday and his cooking was fussy etc and hers was “experimental”. I can eat hospital food, so I was fine, but the rest all suffered. My cooking and the other guy’s were just about edible.

I look back on those times now with great nostalgia and fondness, but I would have also battled with a badly trained, badly behaved dog and a totally selfish owner – with whom you seemed to have been landed. However, you are in that crazy mix for a reason – you just have to find out what it is.

Luv Jo

Hmmm, I never did find out why I ended up in that house; but thanks for the support and commiseration Jo, I needed it.

Actual diary entry:

I’ve just returned from my first ‘Pinner Players Audition’; or rather ‘Reading’. The ‘audition’ involved everyone sitting around reading for different parts. There were some REALLY long scenes. It was strange because when I audition as a director I choose short and relevant scenes and have people up and acting so I can see how they work on stage. Thus I was fascinated at this different process of auditioning; I was rather irritated at the end because the reading for the character I wanted was only a few lines! Ridiculous. I sat there for two hours listening patiently; then I almost didn’t even get to read because the director didn’t remember who I was (even though he’d given me a lift to his house!). I was not impressed. I had to remind him that I was on the list to read for the part. It felt like they were only humouring me. Anyway after ‘making my stand’ and doing the brief read everyone went out of the room and I was complimented on my reading. Yay for that! It was really motivating to be complimented by a stranger. Then the panel came out and told us who was in the cast. I was shocked at who they had chosen and felt it was rather suspicious that all the people who had read first were the ones who were chosen. I felt that lacked transparency. Naturally the dramatist in me thought I had read better than the lady chosen for the role I went for and I was decidedly bleak that I hadn’t cracked a part. Still it’s all part of the acting process and you always have more rejections than acceptances.

In acceptance of the director’s choice I made my way back to the station. As I was leaving another ‘new girl’ to the group was heading towards the tube too.

“You must be Jean?” she asked, assuming I was the one who got the part Jean had.

“No, Jean was the girl in yellow, she read first. I’m Shannan.” I replied.

“Oh,” was her slightly embarrassed response, “I couldn’t see her from where I was sitting. You read very well though.”

“Ah, thanks.” I paused, “Sorry, your name is?”

“Kitty,” she said with a big smile. She was really pretty; a voluptuous girl in her mid twenties with an exotic Arabian look, gorgeous brown hair and sparkling eyes to go with it. I liked her and I was grateful that she was joining me for the walk to the tube. We gossiped about the audition, about how it felt like it was pre-organised, and then she reminded me: “Yes, and the one lady who got the one part wasn’t even there tonight.” I had been surprised too because Fee had read brilliantly, such a pity.

Kitty was keen to get on stage in London too, she didn’t have a theatrical background, but had decided it was something she had always wanted to do so now she was going to join theatre clubs and get going with achieving her dreams. I was excited to be chatting to someone who was as keen as I was. We chatted about another production the group was putting on in February: “Charley’s Aunt”; if I could do that one, then I’d be on stage for my 30th birthday! That would be unforgettable! Kitty and I agreed that we would both go for it. The train came to Preston Road and I wished her all the best, genuinely hoping I would get to see her again in October.