Too much culture a day will suck the soul away.

...words to live by.
Sunday was so uneventful I decided to save you the reading time and not write. We decided to have another "homework day". Homework being the operative word. I might even go so far as to say it was a Facebook day. But let's not get too crazy.
Monday we went to the Globe theatre to listen to some actor talk about what it's like to act (aka serve no substantial purpose in society (like a 20 year old)). Then he threw in a blast from the past as I felt like I was back in summer camp when he made us "circle up" and do acting exercises. I'm sure you can all imagine my facial expression. Yeah...
Later, after we learned how to be dramatic from mister actor man, we had two other uneventful courses. After our last class we had to see "She Stoops to Conquer." Coming from a true cynic of the theatre I must say this play was entertaining (aside from the fact that I may or may not have....but definitely did fall asleep somewhere between intermission and the end. It was my preparation for staying up until 2:30am to write a paper about Scotland. Bitter.
Today...Today was icing on the cake of cultural boredom. We had an extended Britain Today class where Martin talked and talked and talked about war, or something like that. Then we went to the Victoria & Albert museum to stare at pornographic statues. If that is art then looking in the mirror every morning is art and I should copyright my body.
Our theatre professor went overtime by 10 whole minutes. That doesn't seem like much, but it could have been the difference between sanity and insanity. The line was so close.
Then the worst of the worst happened. The dirtiest of the dirty; the eye twitching-est of the eye twitching. I had to go to the Opera. I don't even want to remember back, but here it goes.
There were subtitles because you can't understand what the world they are saying. I could have stayed at home and read it from the comfort of my bed. Instead, we sat for 3 1/2 hours in seats that were probably only suitable for infants. Sitting up straight (as there was no other choice from the design of the chair) my knees hit the back of the seat in front of me.
And people had the audacity to tell me they "actually liked it." Don't kid yourself, people. More than half of you were only staring at the inside of your eyelids (that's the only way I got through the last act). So really, you were enjoying sleepy time. I guess the Opera isn't for everyone. But if we were honest with each other, we would know that it is solely for the insomniacs.
At the end of the day, I'd like to say it wasn't as bad as I make it out to be. My newly embraced dramatic actor side, however, believes every word I just typed.