Dear Leslie,
What a day. We were playing cards after the theater tonight when one of the girls got up to go to the bathroom. When she didn't come back, we went to the door and heard coughing and crying. Her roommate panicked, "Oh my God! Oh my God! She's got heart problems. She's gunna die!"

We all just stood there for a second. She had locked the door and now couldn't get up to let us in. "I need milk. Get milk and my medication," we heard her say. Jeremy went for the pills and her roommate and I ran downstairs for some milk. Everything was locked and dark. "Let's get Korf" and we went back up and woke him and we went back to the bathroom.

The door was open and she was curled up on the floor, shaking and crying. Korf went to the restaurant and came back with a glass of milk. She drank half, spilled the rest and was up and walking soon.

Earlier today we went to Warrick Castle and saw so much history that I was almost sick. Everything was so old and impressive that soon nothing meant much anymore. It was kind of an addiction - the more history I saw the more it took to impress me. Especially since I've got so little context having grown up in the new and shiny and glass encased suburbs of Los Angles. How much different are 1910 and 1510 when nothing in your personal experience can relate to either?

This evening we saw "The Comedy of Errors." No guilt after this performance. It was absolutely compelling and hysterical. It was everything that last night's play should have been and wanted to be. We all felt wonderful when we were leaving. Maybe I'm getting a taste of criticism?

We stopped at the Dirty Duck after for a drink. It's a pub that was established in 1763, which makes it older than the country I live in. I got my history buzz back again.