On Monday, I had a performance assessment worth however many percent of that module. Fifty, maybe. I should really have paid more attention to the percentage, perhaps. That said, regardless of each assessment's percentage, I've worked at my fullest. There's dedication! (Don't listen to people who say: "It's only first year") For anyone who wants to study Drama at Birmingham, this paragraph may be of use to you. For anyone who isn't, perhaps you may want to skip. The performances were hosted in George Cadbury Hall, which has its own auditorium (and BBC HD cinema), fully equipped with ninety-six lights and a small audience area. The stage area can be small, large or massive. I'm not entirely sure how many people are studying this module but in any case there was a Monday group and a Thursday group. Within each group were smaller groups of three or four students. We were given about three weeks in which to rehearse a segment of script - that we could cut and mix around as we wish - and then perform it in front of the three module mistresses and the other Drama single honours students. The Thursdays were invited to the Monday performances and vice versa, though that was optional and some of us wanted a day for sleeping after such intense rehearsals. Each performance was limited in time: groups of three were expected to prepare a piece 8-10 minutes long and larger groups of four could extend to 12 minutes. Marks were taken off for shorter or longer pieces outside the time limit as they did not stick to the brief (though I must say I don't remember any pieces that didn't fit the time limit). Unfortunately, I was talking to one of my group members and she said, "You know what non-drama folk say about drama students? Its true, isn't it? We do just do really hippy-ish stuff in practical classes." Take heed! If anyone wants to know more about the practical exam for first year, do ask me. I may even be able to give light on the practical exam for second and third years, having made friends in those years.
Tuesday was the Winter Ball for all halls of residence. Each halls booked their own events room at hotels, botanical gardens, football grounds and other events locations which was followed by a 'secret' (*cough* Bambu *cough*) after party where all winter ballers joined for one massive partay. I only stayed until 10pm because I fancied some epic sleep but my flatmates arrived back at staggered times, the latest being about 3am. She had a good time. Everyone dressed up in their best attire (black tie: boys in suits, girls in cocktail dresses) and was served up a beautiful three course Christmas dinner. This wasn't free, mind. Tennis Courts' Ball was priced at £20, with £5 extra for anyone who wanted to go to the after party. From what I know, Elgar, Aitken and Maple's Joint Ball was £30 and Jarratt's was £10. For TC, the new RA (TeCRA: those who rule over Tennis Courts and get the admin done for us, as well as organising events and sorting out issues) was announced and each baton was handed over. There were cheers, there were woops and there were tears. Tears of joy.
Before the ball, I had plenty to do. I had a presentation to give on Wednesday so had scheduled Tuesday morning to write it up, having done the research over the weekend. Unfortunately I had forgotten that Wednesday was also the day of PTPC, which requires a group meeting beforehand to prepare a presentation on the week's topic and questions. I wasn't the allocated presenter so that wasn't too bad, but I did have to take half an hour out of my time to discuss the question and topic. Handy tip: don't delete past coursework, it may come in handy. At 12pm, I was sat in Joe's Bar at the Guild, waiting for my group members and churning out what looked like an introduction for my presentation, on my laptop. After the meeting, I sped off to the main library to find a neat little study area in the quiet section on the third floor. It was at that moment that I figured that I wasn't only just against time in terms of 'must-be-back-at-the-flat-at-3-30-pm-to-wash-my-hair' but the study holes didn't have plugs so I was also against my laptop's battery life. I couldn't really go back to the flat and work there because I'd get slack and go on Facebook. The double pressure and lack of internet access produced 1200 words in an hour. Pretty good going, don't you think? When I got back to the flat and washed my hair, I polished it and managed to get it to about 1400 words, which is two sides of A4, single spaced, size 10 text. The presentation, though, was to be read out. Again, a ten minute time limit was set. When I read it aloud to myself, it was about nine minutes nine seconds.
I have to admit, I haven't really done many of the typical student things that you hear of before actually moving to University but I did add one to the list on Wednesday: going to a lecture having had no sleep. Whilst I say I left the ball at about 10pm to get some sleep, it didn't actually happen. This was partly due to me going out of my room to greet that flatmates as they came back, hearing each of their hilarious stories, and returning back to my room only to exit again half an hour later to repeat the process. I'm sure I laid down to sleep at about 4.30am, with a looming alarm of 7.30am and the aim to leave the flat at 9am. Perhaps I did get some sleep but I didn't feel it. I do remember having a dream. It really was a very strange night. I don't advise going to a lecture or seminar with no sleep under your belt. Especially if there's an hour walk preceding it.
Friday was the last day of term. This meant that TC (and all the other halls) began to empty. The arrival of the parents, as seen in reading week back in the day, was another sight and cars were filled up with ridiculous amounts of 'stuff'. I don't know what they took home. I'm only taking clothes, books and my laptop, essentially. As I only had an hour long lecture at 9am on Friday, I planned to do some food shopping, have some lunch in my flat then go to Birmingham to attempt to finish off some Christmas shopping. I arrived at the university train station at about 1pm and the queue was actually long enough to extend outside the station. Albeit, the machines are only just inside, but still it was long. Handy tip: don't leave on Friday, leave it until Saturday morning when its still busy but the traffic isn't as bad. Oh but I did return to Birmingham at about the same time the following day and the ticket machines were out of order so the two cashiers had to process them. My theory, as with the washing machines and tumble driers, is that they were too full of money. This does stop them working! It has been proven with a washing machine or two. Another handy tip: if a washing machine isn't working, first ask maintenance to check it isn't full of cash before they order a new one.
I've bought my train ticket home for Wednesday so this is my week: Monday, Christmas Dinner with Oliver; Tuesday, clean the flat, pack my bags, read through my books to see that they're useful for the three essays I've been set; Wednesday, finish packing my bags if I didn't on Tuesday, go hooome!
Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah and have a lovely 2010!
Name: Vici Royle