This Is Not A Democracy

Two things:

I just almost got hit bit a motorbike. My hands are shaking and I actually screamed. Literally, if I had stepped forward half a second earlier I would be dead by now. He was speeding down the outside of the traffic, which was stopped at the lights and Elly and I were crossing between a car and a bus. He came out of nowhere, way too fast, and had to slam his breaks on. Then had the audacity to tell me to cross at a crossing. I was crossing at a fucking crossing! I gave him a mouthful. He called me fat. I wished him dead. And sincerely meant it.

I hope the fucker dies before he has a chance to kill someone else. Like the motorcyclist who killed my friend Bob when he was seventeen.

Fucker.

The other thing was the alarming news about the halted attacks, this morning. I wondered why I kept hallucinating that any passenger plane I saw was exploding.

Goddamn precognition*!

I thought I was having some really fucked up desire to be involved in one of those things!

Oh yeah - and a third thing: I have been swapped into another role for the play-reading. I'm playing Bella, now.


*Listen, sceptics - it makes me feel better. Let me believe it. The alternative is that I am seriously fucked up, okay?

Yeah, alright, I'm spamming tonight.

So - I said I'd update on the play... It's all over, now, but I created an online messageboard so people could stay in touch and it's taking off. I've been asked to join the Publicity Committee.

I was also doing the men's make-up during the show, so they bought me a box of chocolates to say thank you, which was a complete surprise at the last night party... Everyone on that play was lovely. Except Debbie The Evil Programme Bitch.

We're talking about getting everyone out to a play or to Chessington World of Adventures (non-Brits: major theme park) to make sure we stay in touch. There was a big group of younger people - me, JJ, Imogen, Christian, Calvin - who are all 30 or under (mostly early 20s), and then people in their forties and fifties who were pretty cool. There's also Marilyn, who is mid-thirties, and really was one of the younger ones, although I'm not sure how keen she'd be on a theme park.

It was sort of different to any other play I've done, because the dynamic between the cast off-stage was so good. There were lots and lots of in-jokes, "BERNARD! You're on!" (he usually wasn't; even when he was meant to be), calling 13-year-old Aubrey 'StrAubrey' and teasing him about his harem of 13-year-old girlfriends, Mike's Lady Friends and songs for every occasion, ninja fans, "HE'S COMING INTO YOU THE BACK WAY!", "Porn Brokers" and "- it makes her but[t] willing -"

Sheer filth, really.

As much as I hated the play, it was a lot of fun - and would have been more so if we'd had more time off around it.

Pictures from the back-stage area can be found here

We are a bunch of dorks. For reference:

Me: multi-coloured stripes and black fan.
Imogen: green dress, light red hair.
Ruth: purple and cream.
Marilyn: green and cream, dark hair.
Natalie: white night gown or blue and yellow.
Jason: dark blue and orange; chestnut wig.
Calvin: Little Richard.
Mike: white shirt, scruffy green robe.
Bernard: clothes hanging on door, typically.
Colin: red hat.
Ken: Santa
Pam: red dress, black lace
Christian: baby face.
John the Director: Non-plussed.

♥

So, the abbreviated version of the weekend...

Good God, I'm bloody knackered! We've been up pretty early both days to do the play (which has gone swimmingly, I should note - what a pleasant, talented bunch these chaps are) and up late doing the evening performances. I have Monday and Tuesday without performances but I still have to work. Wah.

Certain people are still behaving oddly. Veeery oldly. Not that I object, especially, but it's a bit... odd. If I'm honest, I couldn't much care either way, but I don't like being confused.

Still haven't seen a certain other person for a while. Why must the pretty ones be so elusive?

I need to learn to drive. I'm so jealous of Christian's freedom.

Atlantis season three. Jury is still out. The only consistent secondary is vaguely annoying. I hope that improves. It's still not the same without the familiar old faces from season one.

The next two days will be filled with website and writing. I'm knackered. It'll mostly be crap.

I should really go to bed. I'm just afraid that I won't wake up in time, tomorrow.

I hope I get to see the Pretteh.