So, my thing what I did today: Went and saw
keldaryth (and co) in RENT.
Which was actually quite good. Last time I saw a production of Rent - couple of years back, big budget thing in the CBD - it made me cry, and pre-viewing I decided that'd be my personal marker of quality. And this one made me cry, too.
The singing was really great, and some of the cast was really fab. Choreography was rather good, too, though I thought the dancing could have used more rehearsal. Then again, that's the problem with me having done all those years of Ballet (and other dancing miscellanery) - I am ridiculously nit-picky when it comes to dance performances.
But still, 'twas rather fun. And filled up a day of my time, which is something.
Apart from that, I have done... very little as of late. I finished my last handbag book du jour (Basically, I carry it in my bag so I have something to read on the tram. Or when I'm in a cafe on my own).
Anyhoo, finished The Princess Bride - I've seen the film of course, but this was the first time I'd read the book. I must say, I'm rather impressed at how much the dialogue turns out to be taken directly from the book. What happens when the screenwriter is the original author (Or abridger, shall we say).
New handbag book is Deucalion by Brian Caswell - he was one of my favourite authors at about 14, and I'm rereading some of his books for the first time since then.
And my main thought so far is holy shit, I really was clueless of the wider world back then. At 14, I just liked the book because it was sci-fi with telepatic aliens and a government conspiracy about psychic experiments.
Now I'm reading it, and all I can see is the not-the-slightest-bit-subtle criticism of colonialism and the treatment of Aboriginals by European settlers.
I'm not sure if I should be pleased that I've actually managed to learn something since then, or facepalm at just how ignorant I was.
Which was actually quite good. Last time I saw a production of Rent - couple of years back, big budget thing in the CBD - it made me cry, and pre-viewing I decided that'd be my personal marker of quality. And this one made me cry, too.
The singing was really great, and some of the cast was really fab. Choreography was rather good, too, though I thought the dancing could have used more rehearsal. Then again, that's the problem with me having done all those years of Ballet (and other dancing miscellanery) - I am ridiculously nit-picky when it comes to dance performances.
But still, 'twas rather fun. And filled up a day of my time, which is something.
Apart from that, I have done... very little as of late. I finished my last handbag book du jour (Basically, I carry it in my bag so I have something to read on the tram. Or when I'm in a cafe on my own).
Anyhoo, finished The Princess Bride - I've seen the film of course, but this was the first time I'd read the book. I must say, I'm rather impressed at how much the dialogue turns out to be taken directly from the book. What happens when the screenwriter is the original author (Or abridger, shall we say).
New handbag book is Deucalion by Brian Caswell - he was one of my favourite authors at about 14, and I'm rereading some of his books for the first time since then.
And my main thought so far is holy shit, I really was clueless of the wider world back then. At 14, I just liked the book because it was sci-fi with telepatic aliens and a government conspiracy about psychic experiments.
Now I'm reading it, and all I can see is the not-the-slightest-bit-subtle criticism of colonialism and the treatment of Aboriginals by European settlers.
I'm not sure if I should be pleased that I've actually managed to learn something since then, or facepalm at just how ignorant I was.
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Which reminds me, I must book a ticket for Wicked soon.
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I saw Priscilla in Row S, which at the time was okay but in retrospect it really was too far away to appreciate individual performances. But I was looking at row numbers the other night - and I'm seeing Wicked again on the 24th and I know we're somewhere in the middle of the stalls.
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My youngest son (who is 6) came to me while I was on the phone yesterday. He had a Snively Whiplash mustache drawn on w/ ball point pen and was holding a plastic ninja sword which he proceeded to point at my throat while saying "Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die!" LOL. He did the accent and everything.
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And that is the most adorable mental image ever.