In Which I Do Not Act, Not Even For A Moment

With Jace being gone for two weeks those of us in the acting class are left to our own devices. For two class members that means going home and watching television. For Rose and I this means going over our lines and monolgues in order to maintain some kind of level. Jace will be expecting us to actually do something in her absence.

We met downstairs and chatted over a respective glass of wine and a paisley martini ... Michael was at the bar and he's the only one I trust with this rare and delicate concoction ... until the Icecapades Queen got a moment to open her present from Rose. As I suspected, the Youngest Executive Chef on the Peninsula has hooked up with the Icecapades Queen. You would think people would know better, but apparently not. Anyway, the present-opening having been accomplished, Rose and I adjourned to the Palm Room and the patio with another glass of wine and another martini.

I'm afraid I am no John Barrymore. I can't act after drinking. I can read lines, but I can't do that with any depth of feeling. Rose wasn't doing much better. And there were the distractions of the music, the people moving around and the being in the same building as my Job. All in all, it was not a productive experience and I could never really get into the whole endeavor enough to make it remotely plausible. We won't have acting class again next week and I'm not sure there's any point in bothering with another one of these go-nowhere sessions.