Sorry, no pictures yet.

Looking up from my laptop I see the familiar surroundings of Starbucks that I've come to love and expect...comfy chairs, warm blonde tables, eclectic coffee-related artwork on the wall..and then I look towards the window. A double-decker red bus zooms across my horizon. Behind it, a wrought iron fence encasing a green park with green trees and green plants with yellow flowers. The cars even blink differently here. I'm in London. My first trip to London took place just over 10 years ago. And here I am again. All grown up and living the dream, I guess. And in Starbucks. Don't judge me, I get a discount.

Shiver. Someone was holding the door open and a crisp autumn breeze swept through the building.

The flight here was one of the most pleasant I've ever experienced - even though I was in the middle seat and even though the food was especially unappetizing. I watched Snow White and the Huntsman, was surprised at how much I enjoyed it, (and upon reflection realized that Kristen Stewart had the least amount of lines of any other actor in the movie and that may have been why it was better than I expected) then started to watch Moonrise Kingdom (again) and immediately nodded off (I expected to nod off during this one since I had seen it already and knew that the soundtrack would probably make for some interesting dream music..)

The English countryside is one of my favorite things to see from a plane window, second only to London's skyline. I've flown into Heathrow three or four times now and it is by far my favorite airport (and not just because of Plane Food, Gordon Ramsay's exquisite airport-restaurant triumph.) Due to high aeroplane traffic at all the gates, we de-boarded our plane off a jetway and were directed onto buses which took us to the arrivals terminal, and from there it was a short walk to customs.

While I was standing in line, I picked out which immigration officer I hoped I would get and focused all my mind-forces on it. And it worked! He was extremely polite and friendly and inquired about the instrument in my backpack (a ukulele) and we chatted about it for a little bit while he stamped my visa (eep!) Then it was off to retrieve my luggage - an easy feat. My bags practically followed one right after the other and I was the first one to make it to the exit. Mr. Philip Quenby, my host-dad, greeted me promptly and we proceeded to the car, where we played a life-size game of tetris in order to fit my two suitcases, duffel bag, backpack and carry-on into his red convertible (and we won.)

Onward to the Quenby residence, a charming three story house (the third floor is a recent extension) and to meet the rest of the Quenby clan. I remember Catherine Quenby from when I first lived here - she is just as charming and considerate as I remember. A little while later, I met Naomi and Hannah Quenby.

 Can I just go ahead and say I'm gonna talk to my children in British accents so that grow up with that accent?It is the best thing ever to hear a little voice speaking so properly, so eloquently. They used phrases like, "Very clever indeed" and "An unusual amount of work for one so small."

 Naomi and Hannah are 9 and 7 respectively. They have a deep love for drawing, writing and Star Wars.

...And they have created a unique adaptation of episodes 1-6 in storybook form.

The main characters, Stella and Robert, go on adventures nearly identical to those that happen in the episodes, but in a slightly different universe. The Jedi's have become Umbi's, and there are two types of Umbi's - good and evil. The good ones have rounded ears and the evil ones have pointy ears, but sometimes the evil ones cleverly disguise their ears with a hood or a special powder that dissolves their ears entirely.

Naomi and Hannah have each written and illustrated several books already, and last night they read all of them aloud, doing all the voices and explaining all the pictures. I must say I was incredibly impressed, especially with the lengthy speeder chases and battle scenes. These girls rock.

 After dinner, Hannah, the younger, had to go to bed so Naomi and I stayed up a little bit longer to play music and draw some more (Hannah is making me into an Umbi character, I shall be used as a decoy for Queen Stella, although she has assured me I won't be killed off like the others.) I played my ukulele for a bit, and then Naomi showed me her killer harp skills by playing "twinkle twinkle little star." It was beautiful. I slept deeply and didn't wake up until 9:30 this morning.

 Today's list of accomplishments has included unpacking, showering, and opening an HSBC bank account (hooray!) Tonight is drinks at the Churchill Arms on Kensington High Street with a few LAMDA people.

A lot has changed in London, but one thing has remained the same: the need for a nice pair of warm socks.

Tiny Victories

Scraping the bottom of the ranch dressing dish with a baby carrot stick as if it were a bowl of ice cream and a spoon. My stomach is full of water, vegetable, and who knows what else it is that makes up ranch dressing. In my ears is a new band: Tiny Victories. The name is quite apropros, might I add. I've been accepted into the London Academy of Music and Dramatic Art for the MA in Classical Acting for the Professional Theatre. I move September 30th. I have a place to stay. The first payment has been made. I've been fingerprinted. All that's left to do is send off my paperwork to the UK Consulate and buy a new umbrella. England. My heart's ambition. It's happening. It's really happening.

Being a Person.

Do you want to know something I'm learning?

You have to be happy. You can't just react to life. If you're not happy with where you live, what you're wearing, how you're spending your time, what people are in your life on a regular basis, you can change it. You don't just have to take it. Sure, there's a balance. I'm not saying be high maintenance. But, be a little high maintenance. You're a person too, damnit, and you have the right to live your life. I am learning how to be a person that takes up space in the world.

Find what makes you happy. And go get it. Sometimes it's as simple as saying, "No, I can't cover for you today, I have a life outside of work." Sometimes it means putting on your favorite music. Sometimes it means turning off your music. Sometimes it means plugging into the world. Sometimes it means getting unplugged. Whatever the case may be, you have to live the life you want to live.

I am working two jobs in New York City. Neither of them have anything to do with theatre. Sure, it will do for the time being. It pays for the rent. It gives me a little extra breathing room at the end of the month. And sure, I was able to squeeze in a one-night only performance singing a few Broadway tunes down at the Duplex piano bar. But I could be a starving artist right now. I could be sleeping on a couch rather than in on a memory-foam mattress in a three bedroom apartment and I could be auditioning every single day rather than working at a health food store or an art studio. I could be doing things that make me happy rather than doing things that help me get by. Where's the balance?

I have to find my balance. My place in the world. My passion. My joy.

My passion is Shakespeare. Theatre. Writing. Music. Language. Creativity.

So in my free time, I'm reading Thinking Shakespeare by Barry Edelstein and Playing Shakespeare by John Barton and attempting to write short stories and attempting to submit for as many auditions as I possibly can via Backstage.com. I don't have an agent and I'm not in an acting company. I ditched the acting studio I was in because the owner asked me to pay him more money than we had initially agreed on. This city isn't so bad, but it's certainly not a snooze-to-get-by town either. You either get out every day and make life happen, or you will become swallowed up in work, subways, and staying up late on facebook in your bedroom just so your brain can decompress from the chaos of the day.

I'm a good actress. I'm not the best or the brightest star, I may not even be the most courageous or the boldest, but I will work every single day to make myself those things because that is what I want.

It's what I want.

Before there was a train..

Booked my flight to New York. I leave August 4th.

Bought my dress for my sister's wedding. Which is in Geneva.

This is all really happening.

Clean

Spent my day off yesterday cleaning my car, my room, my computer, and my skin. I love days like that. Freshhhh!

And today.. today is new.

Every day starts out clean.

It was a, well, you know..one of those days.

Greetings all, one and small, rich and poor, less and more. Riddle me this: what happens when your dream, the one you've had all your life, the one you've eaten, breathed and slept for 21 years, suddenly becomes not as appealing as it used to be? What happens then? When I think of the chain reaction of events that have taken place because of my undying devotion to this dream, it absolutely makes me shudder. What if..just what if..I've been wrong this whole time?

Wouldn't that be a horror? What a waste, she'd say! To have spent her days slaving away in a dark, dank room, with nothing but a script, a mirror and a stained carpet floor, memorizing words and thoughts and actions, in the hopes that one day she'd be good enough to repeat them in front of an audience that included more than just her own reflection? The odds of ever making it are, well, extraordinarily minute. But then, what is making it, she thinks? Does 'making it' mean that I am able to make a comfortable living for myself and my family doing what I love? Well, yes, she thinks. OR does 'making it' simply mean doing it? Trying it? Giving it everything for just a few more years? Yes, I think it means that too, she agrees.

Very well, then, what comes next? Something that looks a little bit like this, I'd imagine:

A leap of faith. Yes, a leap of faith.

Thursday, Thursday, Thursday.

This past week, I've felt like I've lived in Groundhog day. I wake up around generally the same time every morning, roll out of bed, wash my face, brush my teeth, and get dressed. I eat breakfast, and go to work. Over and over and over. Last night, however, I enjoyed some much needed friendly diversions in the form of a wine tasting at the Phoenix Public Market with two wonderful people. On the way down to the market, the weather was so nice I kept the windows down, whilst singing "Summer in Ohio" from the Last Five Years. As I pulled up to a stop light, a car that also had its windows down and had been listening to 'a super poppin' beat' turned off their music, pulled up next to me, and begin applauding and saying, 'youuu go girl!' I bowed, as only you can bow while sitting in a car, by waving my hands quite foppishly and inclining my head to them.

Part of my resolution was to journal more, specifically on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. However, today is Thursday. As I'm sure you are all well aware. Call me an over-achiever.

I think I might be starting a new blog called "Ellyn in the Apple" when I eventually make my move to NYC. Right now the date is pegged (somewhat precariously) around the end of April, 2011. So. I'll be keeping busy in the meantime. I was recently cast as Mercy Lewis in a production of Salem:1692. You can read past reviews of the show here . I have to say, I'm beyond stoked to begin rehearsals for this production. We'll have 24 shows beginning in March (yipes!) at the Soul Invictus theatre in downtown Phoenix. I'm also going to be performing in a cabaret variety show with Reign Productions in February, not sure the venue on that yet but I'll let you know.

Yep, I'll let you know. Whoever you are. :)