Filming this weekend was the most fantastic ending to an otherwise stress-full week. I understood why making films is so much fun. You get to have people stare at you like your famous, and someone tells you that you’re doing great and you don’t have to rehearse for 10 weeks only to get about a weeks worth of shows. I can watch these videos and say, “wow. I did that” and I can watch them over and over and over again. Surprisingly, though, I really missed the rehearsal process. I missed being able to try things over and over again. I missed having a director go one way and then another. I missed thinking about things in the rehearsal and I felt like I had together all that was perfect about my performance into a couple of takes.
Another exciting thing about this weekend was when I found the post office. ALL. BY. MY. SELF. I looked on the map for the post office closest to us and realized it was at the stop called “Namesti Miru,” on the Tram 22. I just wasn’t sure where Italska street was. Well, when I got to Nam. Miru (imagine our Union Square, with all the funky people, plus A LOT more grass and trees. So maybe…like Battery Park without the water), I looked at the map again, I realized what corner of the park I was going to and turned that way. Sure enough, on that southwesternish corner was Italska and on it? A POST OFFICE. It was closed, of course, because it was Sunday, but I found it. I FOUND IT. By looking at a map. Ri.Dic.
Okay, so we went clubbing. Warning to all parents: this was a crazy evening in Prague, hope you don’t mind some details. Stop reading if you think you don’t wanna know :P
So, we all went to one of the acting students house for a “pre-party party” (everyone is into this party-all-night thang). Well, we were making much too much noise for an apartment so we moved to a club, wherein I learned that Jonathan (spelling? Idunno, he calls himself “John” now), who went to my choir when we were reeeeeeallly young, is in Prague with NYU, where he goes to school now (He’s in the Galatin program). OH. MY. GOD. Right?!?! Okay, so we end up at this club and, almost literally 20 seconds later a huge group decides “lets go somewhere else” and we just go. We get to the next place, about 10 people less and they decide “let’s go somewhere else,” so we go around the corner (I have no idea where anyone else is at this point) and, within about 10-15 minutes, the rest of the gang is there and we’re all dancing. This guy from South Africa comes up and starts dancing with me, and while I’m all for getting to know people from the place I’m heading next semester, he…well…um…falls completely in love and wants to take me home and I’m just like, “Ok, buddy, I’m involved with someone right now and I’m very much in love, I’m really sorry. We could get coffee or something, but I’m really not going home with you tonight. I just wanna dance” (this is extremely truncated, of course – the full story is available on request). So, dear god, right? The first night I go out and yet another man from some far off place who is absolutely gorgeous but just not what I’m into at the moment – falls head over heels within 2 FUCKING SECONDS. Why does High School consistently follow me around? It’s flattering but also kind of creepy.
Okay, so anyway, I finally get away and convince some people to head home on the night tram with me (which runs on a different – slower – schedule) and I run off to buy some McDs. Then I walked home from I.P. Pavlova and I was completely fine! Look at me with my badass self (plus, where we live is pretty safe). So, that was the evening. It was a little ridic, but extremely fun and I’m so glad I had people to go out WITH (this being me – the girl who was convinced I wouldn’t make ANY friends).
Um, I think I explained the gay club story to a couple of my friends, but uhhhh a couple of nights before the CLUBBING night a couple of us girls end up at a lesbian night and this club. It was kinda of funny. No wait, it was really hilarious. I was fine with it, too and it was sort of an omen because that club is really close to our house. So, instead of finding a support group I just found a place to party if I ever feel weird or out-of-place.
What can we take away from this weekend? Well, my conclusion was this: in Europe, there are really pretty straight ppl and in America there are really pretty gays.