January 22nd, 2003

Photo - leaves

*despairing, angst-ridden noise/frustrated scream*

things currently making my brain ache beyond reason:

~ little shop of horrors. more precisely, the going to thereof, and the possibility of meeting you-know-who a second time. it should get easier the second time, not more difficult. i know he's approachable and lovely... but that doesn't help. in fact, that makes it worse. i know for a fact that, no matter how prepared (or, in this case, not) i am, and no matter how calm i appear to be, or think i've become, as soon as he appears i'll be a complete wreck all over again. (and i know he's gay... that doesn't help either...) i could be here all night just mantra-ing an "oh, god..." until i can't speak any more, but i won't...
~ musicals, and all related rants. i have a lot. one day i might actually write some of them down in a coherent fashion.
~ 'cats'. if there's anyone to whom i haven't said this yet, i apologise in advance for march 15th if i fall apart completely or end up in hysterical tears. i can't guarantee i'll be able to control my emotions. to put it simply, SB was probably me at the height of euphoria, catatonic though i was for most of it; 'cats' is probably going to be me at the very height of despair, depending on whether or not i can be bothered to hide it... so, yeah. warning, in advance...
~ 'cats' and related ranty things - namely, that nearly every goddamn state in the US has had a production at some point, and the thing's been touring since, oh, 1999. we here in the UK will, in all liklihood, get this tour. one single tour... a tour that will inevitably end, of a show that will immediately dissolve into the past again. the fact that it's touring at all is bloody amazing. after all, it already toured once, back in 1995... (and, on a somewhat related subject - it's our frelling show. it's british-made. and, as usual, it goes over to america and gets star treatment, whereas over here, in its place of birth, it gets shoved into a box and forgotten about. as i was saying to lloyd on saturday during our heated debate, the three shows that got lloyd webber where he is are 'cats', 'phantom of the opera', and 'joseph' [or anything pre-1980 from the start of his career] and pretty much everything after that has been somewhat mediochre, 'evita' and 'sunset boulevard' aside. [see, i'm a lloyd webber geek, but i'm a sensible and realisitic one. i admit fully that the man is a disgustingly talented moron...] 'cats' is closed; it's immortalised in video form. 'joseph' is closed; it's immortalised in video form; 'evita' is closed; it's immortalised in movie form. do we see a pattern developing? now, they were planning the phantom movie... this worries me intensely. if he closes phantom in the west end, that'll be it. that'll cause me to give up on him entirely. it'll be the final straw, i swear. luckily, thanks to billy wilder's death, they've pushed the sunset movie deadline ahead of the phantom movie, and that's already closed and toured, so i'm not as worried about it aside from the hideous casting decisions... okay, i completely lost my point, there. my point was, once they finish on the west end, that's it, they're forgotten about... in america, it's an entirely different story, and that pisses me off beyond measure...)
~ various shows that i have not enough money to watch. one day, i'll be deathly passionate about something i can bloody afford...
~ the realisation that nearly all of my life-angst comes back full circle to that moment in 1995 when i saw 'cats' for the first time. (and i realise this is a very 'cats-orientated rant, but my brain's on a roll, it seems.) or, at least, all the life-angst that revolves around the part of me that still wants to be a musicals/broadway star despite my decided lack of talent.
~ the further realisation that, even though i'm passing my course, i have no idea what to do with it once i've done it. it's all very well being a fashionably impoverished author, but that's not who i am... i want to be a fashionably disgustingly rich author, and it ain't going to happen because no matter what everyone says, i'm not good enough, and/or do not have the drive to take it anywhere. both of my dreams are falling apart around my knees because i'm too tired to do a damn thing about either of them.

and... okay, i'm going to stop now before this veers even further away from the point. and i realise lately that my angstrants are no longer even cathartic or therapeutic, merely annoying because they make me worse...

sorry.

you can all go about your business now.
Photo - leaves

(no subject)

firstly, apologies for the rant last night. ever have one of those moments where life suddenly becomes incredibly aggravating for no reason?

anyway. a curious thing i should like to share about my house at the moment. and, no, it is not the same thing she texted me once: "your house is square!!" although it IS square, indeed, because it has a flat roof...

said flat roof is supposed to have a piece of timber across the front/back element in lieu of guttering. apparently, there's a channel up there to direct rain water to a flow pipe somewhere in the region of the bathroom (it had never occurred to me before where rain water went when you don't have a normal roof...)

our roof has no such timber. and it seems that the flow pipe is blocked. hence, whenever it rains, the roof turns into a lake. and now, when it's windy, the rain blows off the roof... which has a curious effect of it seeming to rain only on our house, incredibly heavily. most bizarre...

oh, and our neighbour complained because she got wet, but it's slightly difficult to stay dry in such circumstances and until we can afford someone to go up there and have a look, getting wet she will have to remain...