Antique book smells, the 3 train, one meal a day= profound self-discovery

Day 2? 3?
I am so bad at days, thank goodness I have a schedule to keep me on track and a clock to keep me on time.

Today was glorious. The classes today at school were much less awkward than the first day--now we at least had played the name game at least 30 times, so everyone knew to say names instead of "hey you" or awkwardly avoiding addressing anyone at all and smoothly playing it off as if they were talking to the whole group in large.

i did, however get the crap scared out of me today.

we were all sitting in a studio room, listening to ipods, talking about classes, waiting for the adler technique class to begin--just sitting on the floor socializing. our teacher walks in and looks around and takes us in and immediately says "what are you doing, why are you sitting on the floor, get chairs." we set up the room, not understanding why this man is so urgent in his request, confused if we are being reprimanded or simply taught. class begins.

"do you all understand why you're here. do you?" no one answers, but we get out our notebooks and pens.
"have any of you even done research on ms. adler and her history, her background, the history of this studio?" a girl in the front row half raises her hand. no one else dares to move.

"do you have any idea what this studio is? do you have any idea what goes on here? here, you are driven, you are here to learn in a classroom to experience to grow. acting is fun--but we're not here to hang out. you do not 'hang out' here. if you want to kick back and hang out you shouldn't be here. don't bother. just leave. do you know what i saw when i entered the room today? not professionalism, not an attitude of serious actors who want to grow who want to learn, who are serious about this. from now on, show me. do not let me enter the classroom without you being ready to learn. do you understand?" we all nodded, scared, enticed, drawn in to this man with his booming voice and presence that filled up every corner of the room and struck us as we sat, quiet in our chairs.

somehow, i know it will be the best class. this guys for real.

the rest of my day was amazing. ashley and i went down to the drama bookstore and got some books that we'll need for class--and trust me, it's just like college--they'll tell you what you need and then add about 100 dollars more in books/clothes/classes that you must have after you've paid the tuition. that's life, isn't it?

took the 2/3 subway back home and decided to explore the neighborhood. let me tell you--we totally lucked out in our little shoebox with peeling lead paint and leaky radiator. walking down the street, people were walking dogs, riding bikes, just strolling past brownstones on either side of the quiet street. we turned down montague street to explore our little grid and came upon an old bookstore with a sidewalk sale of books flooding the pavement in front of the store. i get awkward when i come to sidewalk sales becauase i think if i browse, someone will think im stealing--so we walk in. the place was the kind of place that had old postcards that wre yellowed, the aisles were so narrow that two people would have to hug to slip by one another; it was the kind where you pick up books just so you can smelled the musty, woody, old paper as you flip through the faded, torn pages of books like shuffling cards of old, bent worn out card decks. it was the smell that sticks in your memory, that nostalgia smell. we stayed in there, leafing through copies of plays and poetry until i finally settled upon an old 1940s edition of john donne's poetry. next we walked down the street to where ashley thought the water was--we were just two girls exploring the city.

it took our breath away. at the end of the brownstone-lined street there stood the city, glowing with its twinkling lights that were reflected across the water. soemthing was so movie-like, so perfect about that setting, about the picture of new york city silhouetted by frames of couples leaning over the fence railing, the man with his arm around the girls waist.

it was a picture that made me want to fall in love. not be in a relationship, but deeply, madly have someone to love. and i thought that was so beautiful.

we felt a little awkward walking down this little brick-walk area with no one but couples lining the way--but it was such a beautiful awkwardness--it was like you could feel their love radiating, it was just joy--these people were sharing something with us passers-by that they had no idea that they were sharing; and it was so beautiful. when ashley and i were walking back home i swear we both agreed that the only thing we wanted to do right then was grow up, find out leading men, get married, live in brooklyn and go down to that bridge with the person we loved. it's just that kind of place that's in all those movies where the bumbling girl goes just to think, to read and some guy comes up to her and asks her if she dropped a book that he found, she says no, but he gives her the book anyways. they stand there in the awkwardness of two bumbling single people amidst couples in perfect bliss and laugh. it's just a place for falling in love.

im way too much of a hopeless romantic, jeepers.