thirsty thursday...

Started the day out right with some yoga followed by Acting with Donal, where, within a period of 2 and a half hours I was a blind, a bumper car, a child, and a prostitute. I learned a very valuable life lesson too... the answer is always Mel Gibson. Always.

Then we had Movement/Dance. This class kicks my butt. Bikrama yoga warm up to start. We continued learning this strange right brain/left brain dance/ movement combo-thing... I seriously don't know how to describe what the heck it is.
Then we spent forever walking around the room emphasizing different traits we have followed by a lot of very Movement-y things.

Then, ladies and gents, came Contemporary Irish Drama. By this time I am so tired its a bit ridiculous. Its also 6:30 at night with no dinner break in sight. So the combination of low blood sugared tired sickness... but I digress. I titled my notes "Contempary Irish Drama." Yes. Re-read that. Off to a bad start, Jule. Bad form indeed. My professor, however, is... how do you say... a fox. Yes. I said fox. He could be described with the term foxy without any qualms from anyone. And not a "Oh he is an artist and a doctor and Irish" foxy. Just plain foxy-foxy. I am going to stop using the word foxy now.

Anyway. He also will more than likely eat my children. He is a scary quiet angry Irish man. With a PhD. Who has written a book. Who could not possibly be older than early 30s, and I mean EARLY.

Fun Fact: His name is Dr. Walsh. I know... mind blown.

No one came to the class having read the required first day reading... because we never got the syllabus. But before he knew that... he was very very angry. I coward in my seat. I got slightly more relaxed as the class progressed but not comfortable. No, that is not a feeling I believe I will feel during that class.

8:45 Voice tomorrow then WEEKEND time. :)