My second show went very well.
Eleven People!
After the show, two audience members say me outside and offered to buy me a beer.
I said “yes” then sat in a park across the street and drank it while eating curry.
Both were good.
Third Bikram class today.
Martin is from Spain. I explained that some of the positions are quite uncomfortable. One particularly when I bend my spine back. He said you need to go to uncomfortable places; that’s how you learn.

The Edinburgh Fringe 2017: Hot Sweat Wet

I almost died in a Bikram class today, but I didn’t.

I was dizzy, shaking, sweating. It was unbelievable. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think.

Bikram is different.

The teacher asked if I had done Bikram before, and I said yes.
But i think I’ve done “hot” yoga.
Where was the downward dog?
Where was the cobra?
Where the fuck was child’s pose?

I almost passed out. I begged her for water, she said “Almost done, love. Suck it up.” We were doing all these standing poses, and the breath came up into my mouth like hot shawarma, which is what I ate yesterday for lunch.

“Would anyone mind if we cracked a window?”

And when everyone looked at me, I pointed the guy next to me

“Looks like he needs it.”

I finally had to stop. I was so weak and dizzy. I couldn’t do child’s pose. A child’s pose… was too difficult for me.

There were mirrors in front of us. Long. Large Mirrors!
My face was so red.
It was redder than anyone else’s.
And I Was in Scotland! Right? Someone HAS to have a redder face than me (but no one did.)

I laid there dead. Pathetic. Weak. unable to get a clear breath.

“Elan! Lock your knees.”
“Elan! Keep your elbows in.”
“Elan! Squeeze your butt.”

I lay there.
God, wouldn’t someone just crack a window.
And finally…

She brought me water.
And after class a woman told me to take my clothes off.
“I was sure you were gonna strip naked? You came in with a long sleeve shirt!”
(It’s cold in Scotland.)

Two week unlimited pass… Purchased.


My first pub in Scotland
There is a picture of seven dogs pissing on a wall.
There is a hand written note on the bottom of the wine/liqueur menu that says

You are welcome to bring your dog
to The Regent but please consider
our other customers and keep your pet
-under control
-on a short lead
-off the furniture

They are playing Joni Mitchell or Joan Baez or Edie Brikell.
It is a well-lit place.

THE EDINBURGH FRINGE 2017: From Glasgow to Edinburgh

From Glasgow to Edinburgh one sees a lot of green.
There are farms, and antique looking homes that probably
have a fire going.
Peet moss.
I saw a young man smoking a cigarette as I left the bus that brought me to Queens Station.
There are now a lot of sheep. They seem so small.
The region is filled with hills.
Seems like this land gets plenty of rain.
The train itself is smooth, and runs on time.
The conductor asked for tickets
“Tickets, please.”
But he didn’t click them, or punch them as they do in New York.
He only looked at them.
There are seats facing front,
Seats facing back.
Seats facing a table, that people share.
People are on their phones,
I don’t know why but I feel like everyone is putting on an accent.
Upon exiting the plane, from Heathrow to Glasgow, a man offered to put up the bar for me (I was a window seat he was in the middle), and I thought that was very nice.

Can I put it up for you?
I would love that.

Is that too much?
“I would LOVE that.”

He ordered a tea and a Kit Kat, which I thought was going to be an interesting sandwich, but in fact, turned out to be a Kit Kat chocolate bar.

Not many pools. I haven’t seen many pools. And no one is wearing flip flops.


I am very excited.
I rehearsed yesterday walking around the airport.
I have never performed in a play where I was COMPLETELY off-book before rehearsal, but with 6 or so rehearsals being the rehearsal process, I felt it was necessary.
Not that it matters, cause I’ll forget my lines when I’m standing up.
Heathrow reminds me of a mall.
With large windows.
It’s quiet.
There is a small din. Constant. Easy.
Being that it’s 5am where I am, and maybe got two hours of sleep last night, I am in touch with the metaphysical side of life.
I see a small woman eating a sandwich, but her metaphysical side is saying “Where are the napkins.”
Not very deep, I know.
That might be on me.
She needs a napkin, because mustard is on her face.
I’m in London!
I am staring out the window towards London!
This place is real.
I have read biographies of the greatest actors of our generation, and they all passed through this airport!
Just like me.
“Pick up rubbish?” Is what mid-driff just said, before removing the leftovers of a mostly eaten ham and cheese sandwich.
She might be a wizard;
Working at Pret a Manger.


I am finally here.
This is the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, but in London airport.
Do people know about it?
It is really Mardi Gras for theatre?
Are people singing at the Starbucks?
Regrettably, no.
Everyone is mulling about.
And they look just like Americans, but more curious.
This could be an airport thing.
Or, maybe this is what they call “European” but when they mean it in a good way.
Feels like New York.
THis is my firs time in London.
A manager at Pret just asked the Polish woman to tuck in her shirt because she was showing mid-driff. In Mid-driff’s defense she is 6’3ft, and the broom and dustpan are too short for her lengthy form.

Do excuse the nature of this post. For me, it is 5am.