Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in Joan Emmaline Lorenzo's LiveJournal:

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Saturday, September 23rd, 2006
10:06 pm	This is home...truly? I've been reading Talkingcock again...yes, what's new? This IMF thing is really driving me insane. For one thing, after reading a piece on consumer strategy during marketing, I'm now REALLY against major corporations and hence, globalisation of corporations in general. (This spoken from from a person who adores shopping in Wal-mart) Anyway, I've been reading an article in Reuters about Chee Soon Juan being physically obstructed by police from marching in protest against the IMF. What kind of idiocy is that? I mean...suppose you were a policeman and you had to stop someone from marching. Would you actually link arms with another policeman and...chest pummel someone away from the street? It sounds like a primary school game. It sounds like a communist primary school game. I'm so ashamed of Singapore right now. Isn't it crazy? There are so many things to be proud of, but then the Singaporean government has to do something absolutely asinine to totally revert my opinion. Stupidity. Anyway, moving on. I'm done auditioning my kids for my student play - which is going to be performed on Oct. 20th/21st. I'm very excited. Now it's time to choose some actors and hope they have the guts to get all crazy. (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, September 20th, 2006
9:56 pm	We had an ad presentation for class today and the teachers - also creative director and president of an ad company in Des Moines - really liked our campaign. The only problem was, they hated the part I did. I feel like I am wallowing in a pile of mud. My team-mates are easy to work with, nice and funny and just...too goddamned capable. Well, no. They're just so good at graphic design and copy that it makes me and my work seem flat. I mean...I came up with some of the concept and direction of this campaign and they fleshed it out. Nobody liked the radio copy. I did the radio copy. It depresses me. I feel like shit. This was my chance to shine, too. My work is lame. In fact, as the president of the company said...my work was "ngeh". Haha. Not only am I a bad actor, I'm apparently a bad copywriter too. Wow, can my future seem any more bleak? Okay, don't answer that...the last time I posed that question, bad things happened. Is this the precedent for this semester? I'm currently responsible for pulling props for a play, designing costumes for a musical and directing my own play. I feel like this is going to be one of those..."oh, you tried your best but it's really not what we wanted and it's definitely not enough" seasons. I'm going to take a shower and...think happy thoughts. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, September 19th, 2006
9:43 pm	If there's one thing that being in America has taught me, it's to not take myself too seriously. I've started watching Flavour of Love - that awful, misogynistic, tasteless show - without cringing too much. I can actually watch a commercial for a pen that does your algebra for you and only mildly say: Wow, Americans are getting stupid. I can listen to a man insult a woman to her face on television and call her a fake whore and only vaguely feel affronted. I've stopped caring. I think it's rather useful. Between going insane with grief and anger and not giving a shit, I choose to not give a shit. I think my third year here is going to be quite successful. (Comment on this)
Thursday, September 14th, 2006
11:38 pm	Bad thing cropped up, which comes in the form of A., my former room-mate. She owes me $126...actually, it's practically the one year anniversary of her debt, and she refuses to pay me back. The crappy thing is that she's really easygoing and fun to talk to, except that she skirts around the issue completely. I told her on MSN to write me a cheque and she told me to get in line, because she really does owe a lot of people money. You know what I wish? I wish that someone had pulled me aside while I was growing up and taught me that the world was a bad place and taught me how to deal with shit like this. What do you do when you meet someone like A.? By all accounts, I've been bloody fleeced. I shouldn't have allowed something like this to happen in the first place. Am I 21, a worldly, intelligent young woman or just a dud of a human being with snot for brains? I'm pissed at myself for allowing this to happen and I don't know how to fix it. I want my damned money back. The only way I can think of something to rectify this situation is if I go to A.'s tennis coach and tell him that his precious scholarship baby is a cheating (yet amiable) piece of crap, which is too drastic as of now. I'd only resort to that if I make a decision to cut off our friendship permanently. (Which actually doesn't seem like too hard a decision to make) In other news, I think I have a crush on my stage management professor, whom I abhorred previously. Fuck. Why do I always have crushes on my teachers? It's like I'm some fucking psycho-ass, repressed, emotionally-abused crackpot with nothing better to do than sip on day-old black coffee and tremble excitedly as I pen a stalker fan letter to Angela Lansbury. Anyway, yeah. Crush. We were in class, marking out a groundplan for a stage floor as an exercise when someone asked if the head of the department (who had walked in about two seconds ago) had gone. Someone else said yes and for some completely fucked reason, I chose this moment to say, in a baby voice, "He go bye bye." My professor (way over middle age and I guess, unfathomably attractive to my overactive pheremones) caught the remark, then said (in his version of a baby voice), "Bye bye?" And I replied, "Bye bye" and he flopped his hand around in this helpless, toddler-like wave. I found that ineffably cute. Seriously, how fucked am I? This is probably even worse than the embarrassing JC crush on...I'm just not going to think about it. (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, September 13th, 2006
10:04 pm	TURIN BRAKES! Oh gods, I was looking for songs on the soundtrack of this new movie coming out called "The Last Kiss". The soundtrack was compiled by Zach Braff, who was that actor on Garden State. His taste is impeccable. Anyway, before I did my searching, I'd been craving this song called "Painkiller" by Turin Brakes, which is an almost unheard of British band that popped up momentarily when I was...what...16 and then vanished off the face of the earth. I kept forgetting the name of the band and I also forgot the song title. And of course, I didn't really remember the lyrics. I thought that I was doomed to perish in song loop hell, never able to put my finger on that song driving me crazy. Until today. Turin Brakes' song is on "The Last Kiss" soundtrack!! I found this out while I was looking for the songs on YouTube (what would I do without you...what would I do). Ngeeeeheehehehehehehehehehehe. *manic laughter* Wheeeeeeeee. In other areas of my life, I have an ad campaign for an imaginary coffee house coming up in a week. The people I'm working with are great and I loathe to let them go (we have to switch groups for another project). Although, I'm getting incredibly competitive and hoping none of the other groups will do as well, which they will, because I've heard some of their campaign ideas and they are pretty nifty. Damn them. Ah well. At least I'm getting along with my team members. One of them comes up with the greatest ad slogans; she's so intelligent that I'm half-envious, half-admiring of her intellect. Hmm...wish I was as smart. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Monday, September 11th, 2006
10:37 pm	*squeal of excitement* Okay, so I've been reading Talkingcock, like any loyal Singaporean with half a sense of humour. They have this link to a really great site called 400 Frowns, I think. It's an art project designed to collect 400 passport photos of people frowning in response to the IMF and World Bank meeting in Singapore. I personally think it's great and as soon as I get my lazy butt off my carpet and into a passport photo booth, I'll submit an entry. Seriously, how entertainingly subversive can this get? Never say that Singaporeans aren't creative. I also love the fact that the site is so sensible. I mean, it's not some wacko hippie ranting about flowers and dolphins (even though, yes, dolphins are human too). The site has a page with rational arguments about the IMF and poverty in developing nations, and it's very eloquently phrased. Not that I'm virulently enthusing about this, but it's just...intelligent fun, y'know? Go check it out at 400frowns.lioncitydiy.com. Sorry, if I could do HTML, I would, but I'm technologically challenged. *shrug* Woot to you, dude-with-the-400-frowns-site! (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Sunday, September 10th, 2006
11:03 pm	It's raining. It's been raining since yesterday, or perhaps the day before. I like rain. It reminds me of home. (Comment on this)
Saturday, September 9th, 2006
10:48 pm	The cricket is dead. Strike whatever I said about being happy in my last post. The cricket in my bathroom is dead. In my world, this has become a symbol of everything disastrous that has happened in the past few hours. Actually, just one disastrous thing. My mother called. When my mother calls, she doesn't say nice things. She starts conversations by asking me about money in my bank account. Now, as we have probably already established much earlier, I am very bad at managing my money. I either let go completely and burn up my bank account or I watch my dollars and cents to the point of Nazi paranoia. So my mother asked me about my current bank account, which has a little less cash than she originally intended because I (eep) withdrew a little more than originally intended for my summer in Europe. This put me in a bad mood, because she likes to heap on guilt (a lot) and blame me (a lot) for my inadequacies (a lot) and thus makes me very defensive. And when I'm defensive I get nasty. So I told her that if she wanted me to save money, she'd stop calling me and wasting my minutes. And so I feel bad because not only am I completely inadequate and a bad person, (or maybe she has made me feel that way, or maybe I just am, or maybe her actions compel me to act that way...who cares, right now they're all the same damned thing) but I'm also telling her to fuck off and be by her lonesome self. And my brother can't really call her all that often now that he's working his butt off at his new office so...yeah, she's alone. So it's at this point that I'm rehashing history in my head, starting from chapter one where I say: Oh god, why did that rat-bastard of my father leave all of us to: Why the fuck wasn't there some better guy out there to: Fuck, I know my life isn't that fucking bad, why do I feel this fucking bad to: What the fuck, fuck this And I still don't feel any better. If I stay still and huddle up into a little ball, will that make the world leave me alone? (Comment on this)
2:58 pm	Whenever, Wherever, Whatever Listening to Maxwell on YouTube right now (am I hooked or am I hooked?) There seems to be a new movie out starring Jet Li. I think it's called Fearless. Umm, looks like a modern day remake of Huang Fei Hong, except the Americans wouldn't recognise it/him because they're culturally inept. I really wish Hollywood would stop portraying all Asians as the evil mafia moustasche-stroking, child-prostitution sex fiends or the silent, heroic martial arts throwbacks. Or the stoned nerds. Although...what would they do with us then? Hey, there's an inch-long green cricket in my bathroom. So interesting. It hasn't moved since last night, I think. It would be so nice to have a hunk of roast beef now. Or deep fried chicken nuggets. Meat. A giant pile of beer batter fish and chips. I have homework this weekend! Whoopee! It makes me happy. I've just figured out that I have awesome assignments. I have to come up with about four different radio commercial scripts, dig up props for a show, research costumes from 1920's France and umm...compile a file of stage management things. How amazing is that? I love school. I love the areas of study I've chosen. This is great. Yay, life! Oh, and tonight, I'm probably going to watch The Compleated (deliberately spelled that way, I believe) Works of Shakespeare - Abridged, which is a show I've wanted to see for ages. Apparently, the dean of the arts college is in it. Hmmm. Chocolate pudding! Ngerrrgh. (Comment on this)
Friday, September 8th, 2006
12:07 am	Finally have Internet and it's wireless! Wootness. Instead of doing homework, I've been watching clips of Indignation 2006 - Talkingcock's mock parliamentary forum - on YouTube (what would overseas Singaporeans do without YouTube, tell me). I particularly loved Ruby Pan's speech about native English (yes, S., I've finally watched it) and her ten thousand accents. Another high point was Hossan Leong's summary of Singapore's history, musically styled. Oh...and Alex Au's impersonation of PM Lee. *snigger* MAI HUM! It's highlights like these that make me want to jump on a plane and fly right back home and BE Singaporean. Quite touching, actually. But who am I kidding? If I had to spend my life in Singapore right after university, I would murder someone (maybe my mother) and get hanged in Changi. S. and I were talking about the whole Singapore versus overseas issue. It's not as if we both absolutely adore the countries we're in right now, and it never gets easier leaving Singapore, but returning would just make us realise that no matter where we go...life will never be idyllic. It's a change of scenery, different people and the same damned problems everywhere. It's life. Would I want my life back in Singapore? Is it worth it? (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Wednesday, August 30th, 2006
11:36 am	Right. I bought a book from EBay (or is it Ebay?) and the confirmation site is still loading (and has taken about 10 or 20 minutes to load so far) so I've decided to post stuff while I'm twiddling my thumbs. I work in one and a half hours, I think, and I want to get home and make a sandwich. Yay sandwich! By the way, I went to Wal-mart yesterday so my refrigerator is now stocked with yummy food things. Woot to food. So...here's one of the funniest things alive. I've now sort of started watching "Flavour of Love", which is this completely trashy, skanky MTV show about this ugly, old rapper trying to find his true love. This is season 2, because the girl in the first season dumped him. (Do I hear a muffled snort, anyone?) He tries to find the girl of his dreams by picking as many trashy, skanky sluts as he can possibly fit into one show and goes on dates with them (where they make out and do supposedly romantic things). There was this one episode where he took a girl strawberry picking and he fed her a strawberry that he'd just plucked. The saddest thing about that is that those strawberries have probably been growing in (and thus touching) fermented cow dung...so...*guffaw* Oh, and in the same episode, one girl accused another of being a porn star. (So he doesn't mind that they're strippers and sluts, but if they do porn, they're automatically ousted?) And the accused denied it until the end, when the rapper showed everyone a picture of her found...exposing herself. Um. As another girl in the show put it - Girl got her fingers where they ain't supposed to be 'less she washin'. (Can the African-American accent get anymore hilarious?) It's like brain freeze for your morals and humanity in general. Okay, the page is still fucking loading. I hate EBay...or Ebay. Whichever. Gargh! If the book wasn't so cheap, I'd start hacking away at something right now. (Comment on this)
Tuesday, August 29th, 2006
3:08 pm	My life thus far... I'm back in Iowa. *cringe* On the plane, I sat next to this American soldier named W. He was interesting, to say the least, and we held a conversation (or rather, he held the conversation while I nodded and pretended to care) for the majority of the plane ride. Well, he was funny and highly crude - hmm, porn - but after a while, my brain cells were a little tired of listening to his voice and his neverending patter of whatever. Besides, with Americans, I never really know what to say. Conversations, bah humbug. Thank god I'm really racist and can say anything I want about white, black, Asian people, or the conversation would have gone downhill v. fast. Classes have started and I'm actually quite happy that I get to spend most of my time with theatre people. For one thing, it's an insular, small and cosy little world (fuck, I almost spelt cosy with a 'z') which I'm perfectly comfortable with since I'm now a third year. Life is just that much more secure. Not a big fan of the journalism school, since it hasn't really taught me anything except that journalism in Iowa should be avoided at all costs. What else. I'm running out of food and have jet lag and am going to my first ever Pilates class tonight and discovered a roll of toilet paper today (miraculous! No more kitchen napkin substitutes!) and have a headache and really want to go grocery shopping and my debit card can't be used to top up minutes on my cellphone anymore so I hate life and yeah. Well, not really. Life is fine. Why do I have a headache? And my eyes are irreversibly damaged from having read trashy romances on my laptop for at least four hours straight everyday for most of the summer. I think I'm going to go blind. Good thing I'm never going to have children. Here is another part of my 9 and 1/4 year plan: I am going to have a house with a garden (both small and manageable). I am going to have a killer dog to live in said residence above. Yay killer dog! Oh, I saw a picture of Greg the Froot on G.'s site a few days ago and it's just about the cutest guava I've ever seen in my life. *rapturous* I heart guava! Also, really hate journalism right now because they just had to give me a compulsory night class which means that I'm completely off the list for plays this semester since rehearsals are at night all day every day. Brilliant. I'm hoping next semester is going to work out better for my goddamned schedule so I can actually get into a goddamned play. Okay, fine, it's not like I'm that thrilled to go onstage, but it's nice to feel wanted as an actor. Class starting in 10 minutes. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, August 25th, 2006
1:03 pm	Ow, my head is caving in. I stayed awake till about 6 a.m. to finish reading four trashy romances (it was a gripping series, I couldn't help it) two days ago and ended up with a blinding headache later that night. So yesterday was a total laptop embargo for me - mmmmwwwrrrrggghh - and I ended up reading Invisible Trade, which is an interesting short book about escort services (hint hint nudge nudge knowwhatimean) in Singapore. One quote in the book totally made me empathise (did you just read that sentence, I'm turning American, gah) with this whole prostitution business and that was - Every woman wonders deep inside if she has what it takes to be a whore. It sounds depraved, but I suppose a concept of prostitution is the notion that females too, can fling away their inhibitions, jump into the sack with tons of guys and let loose with their sexual selves AND get paid loads for it. Romanticised, yes, simplified, yes, but damn, it sounds attractive. Anyway, today is my last real day in Germany. Tomorrow, I have to wake up at the goddamned ungodly hour of 4 (bah) to catch the 6 a.m. train to the airport so that I will arrive in time for my flight at 1 p.m. Mmmm. I'm not really sad, because I know I'll come back and I guess I've repressed all negative emotions (Argh, leaving, cry, wait...ice-cream, ooooh) and am in denial about my entire life. Goodbye efficient and safe public transport, farewell bicycle lanes and the concept of walking, so long to people who look, think and act normally and most of all...adieu and arriverderci German. We who are about to suffer America salute you! (Comment on this)
Friday, August 18th, 2006
9:39 pm	Are you thinking what I'm thinking, B1? Wow, it's been a long time since I've written in this thing. I've been busy going through trashy romances that P. has been illegally downloading. Wait, I didn't say that. No illegal downloading. None...whatsoever. In any case, loads of legally-obtained novels procured within the circumference of the law by a trustworthy, upstanding citizen. Yay extravagant descriptions of wild (yet tender) sex and life-long commitments made with a single glance across a room. Anyway, I'm now in Dresden with S. and her new boyfriend. We went to this castle thingie and I discovered that I was fat. Okay, so I've been in denial for some time. The photographs just refuse to be nice to me. Umm...what next. I've been thinking of fun food to bring back to America with me. Also bought a new bag so that I can fit all my crap in and not get taxed for overweight luggage. I want wine! School begins in a week-ish and I'm not really looking forward to going back to America. On the other hand, I'm ready to start classes...there's just something about the challenge of getting as many A's as I possibly can - while simultaneously cramming about 6 classes and work into an entire semester. Also, I'm ready to nestle into my new apartment. Finally, my own place without anyone to get on my nerves with different house rules and people barging in, eating all my fucking food like fucking horses and walking all over the damned floor with their fucking shoes on. Oh, and not stealing my shit. Not having anyone around to steal my shit is good. Right. I'm off to eat some ice-cream. (Comment on this)
Sunday, July 30th, 2006
5:31 pm	Back in Germany. Yay for karma - I laughed at people on the Picadilly Line because half the line was shut down due to a lightning strike. A day later, my flight was delayed by an hour, the bus-stop at Frankfurt Hahn was so crowded that I had to wait for the second bus which arrived 10 minutes later, thereby making me miss my train. When the next one arrived, I mistakenly sat down in the smoking section and couldn't move because the rest of the train was so crowded and then had to wait in there, with fifty thousand industrious German smokers (ever witnessed a cigarette lighting marathon? Imagine the Olympic torch being passed from country to country, but with tobacco warnings)...oh, and get this, that train - saturated with noxious fumes and three very interesting young Skinheads - was delayed by about 40 minutes because of a...*drumroll*...lightning strike. I was supposed to arrive in Wuerzburg by 3 p.m. I got back at 6.30 p.m. Can't promise not to laugh at other people on delayed trains again - it's all about Schadenfreude - but I'll definitely think twice about making my glee so obvious. So. London and Paris were a blast. I have to complain about Madame Tussaud's, which is dismally overpriced and over-rated now. For 25 quid, you get a room full of badly portrayed wax celebrities - Beyonce looks like a shop mannequin - and another hall of government figures (no Kuan Yew...I was disappointed) and two other bothersome rooms...and then a very strange underground hall o' serial killers (there were four figures...and four live actors who did nothing but growl, rush toward you and brandish strange weapons)...and a train ride through London of old and then a really weird alien presentation on the iMax. Don't ask. I didn't get it either. What a waste of money, for 25 quid, I could have bought stall seats in the house for any of the musicals on the West End and a plate of roast duck rice. The only reason why we went was because my brother's friend was in England and wanted to see it. Sigh. What a shame. Madame Tussaud's used to be so lovely and artistic and...cheap. Now it's...cheap. In an expensive way. Bah to that. Going to Berlin on Wednesday! Woot! (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, July 26th, 2006
4:29 pm	I love my mother, but I don't think I like her very much. In fact, the more time I spend with her, the more I'm convinced I dislike her intensely. It's making me very guilty, but I can't help it. I'm around the woman 24 hours a day and it's driving me dotty. She likes to pretend she's not racist or homophobic, but she is. She reads things out loud, as if her neurons decided to take a leisurely stroll up the wrong dendrite and shove words out her mouth instead of just processing them through her brain. She slurps EVERYTHING. Hot tea, cold tea, noodles, salad, slices of roast pork...(don't ask me how). And when we're around company, she talks about nothing but Singapore and more Singapore. I feel like clawing my brains out through the back of my head. This morning, we had a fight. We always get into a fight about 2.5 weeks into seeing each other again. I've counted the average time span of our mutual tolerance and that's the longest we can hold our peace. Anyway, I didn't want to do anything but go online and maybe catch a matinee of the Lion King. Out of the blue, she decides that she would like to go to the supermarket to buy random things like dish soap. And a scrubbing brush. Oh yes, and I have to help her carry all that crap. So I tell her I don't want to go now and we can go later (we should have been able to, and besides, we're only leaving tomorrow, it's no big deal). And then she tells me that I'm selfish and that I always refuse to help her. Then she huffs off into her room a few minutes later and slams the door. I hate it when she tells me I'm selfish. Excuse me, but isn't throwing some wonky trip to the supermarket into the general plan and expecting me to follow you around and do your crap also selfish? Whatever. I hate it when she guilt trips me (it never fails) and I hate it when she calls me names just because I don't want to do things her way. And just to add something that has really been pissing me off the past few weeks, I absolutely, completely and utterly abhor it when she sees gay people on the street and announces it to me as if we were looking at animals at the zoo. For instance, yesterday, we saw two gay couples. One couple was dressed in matching white outfits, complete with one of those small white furry chihuahuas (oh my god...matching pet!), which was amusing. She turns to me and says, in this denigrating tone, "Oh look, one male and one female...." The next couple was holding hands on the street and she said - holding hands. Firstly, that's a retarded remark. Do you have to state the obvious? Secondly, do you have some sort of homophobic syndrome that compels you to point out every gay man/couple on the streets of London? Is it that thrilling or shocking to see two men together? What do you hope to achieve by pointing them out to me, as if I was bloody blind and couldn't find my ass with my own hands? And even if I was bloody blind and couldn't find my own ass with my hands, what good would it do to tell me that a gay couple just passed me by? Are you fucking retarded? For fuck's sake, say something that is worthwhile. Please don't tell me things like "I'm not racist" and then go on to tell me to sit by you in the bus just because you don't want (and I quote) "some of those dirty strangers" to sit next to you instead. Maybe I should be more tolerant. Maybe I should overlook all this because, after all, the woman did raise my brother and me single-handedly. I can't...oh gods, I can't. Fling me into the pits of hell for being this way, but I can't take it. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Tuesday, July 25th, 2006
1:35 pm	So...I'm in LSE right now, using my brother's account to mess with the Internet and do my homework (completely ignored it last week due to special circumstances - by that, I mean Paris.) and it's HOT. I feel sticky. Bad sticky, not ooh-look-I-have-honey-all-over-me-why-don't-I-get-a-nice-boy-to-lick-it-off sticky. Ahaha. In my dreams. By the way, European boys are very cute. And I spent last week in Paris with my mother and a friend of hers. Paris is extremely lovely, but the weather was too hot and the whole of Europe has eschewed air-conditioning for reasons I do not want to contemplate and sometimes, it stank of garbage. On the other hand, there was delectable food, great company (mother's friend has very delightful 25-year-old Cambridge law graduate as eldest son - yay intelligence and glasses!), incredible atmosphere and French! Okay, yes, that was a stupid comment, but spoken French has got to be one of the world's loveliest sounds. I picked up a bit of French from the family (Je parlez tres peu Francaise...tres bien?) and so did my mother...by that, I mean she tried to read every street sign and restaurant name in Singaporean English. (We drive by a street called Place de Clichy - pronounced pl-ah-ss clee-she) Mother: Oh, look! Pl-ay-ce dee Clee-chee. This phenomenon went on for hours without a single pause. I almost strangled her, but that would have looked bad on my resume, so I refrained. Suffice to say that I love Paris a lot, even though it really was too hot and dusty for words. Ah well. Next, I'm currently back in London and yesterday, I watched a musical that blew my mind. Sunday in the Park with George has got to be one of the best musicals, if not the best, on the West End at this time. I cried at least three times during the entire duration of the musical. It was funny and heart-wrenching and dazzling all at once. The musical is basically about a painting called "Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grand Jatte" and revolves around the life of the artist who painted it - Georges Seurat, or in this play, merely George. In the first half of the play, we see George fleshing out his painting, defying his critics, interacting with his aged mother, and most of all, painting his lover, Dot. In a plot too eloquent and complex for me to explain, they break up and she eventually moves to America with another man and George's baby - Marie. In the next half, we see another George. A descendant of the artist and also an artist, he returns to the island where the painting was set, bewildered and lost with his direction in life. In some sort of vision, he meets Dot and finally confirms his ancestry. She tells him...to move on. To not decide what work is worthy of the public, to simply produce what he has to produce and to let people decide for themselves. They usually do. A simple enough plot, when you think about it. But the cast and the music...what brilliance. It was electrifying. Sondheim, the writer of this musical, is an absolute genius. But most of all, the performers in the cast...were dazzling. Their interactions were seamless, their voices were rich, they WERE the characters. It was incredible. I was stunned. I wish you could have seen it with me. (Comment on this)
Thursday, July 13th, 2006
2:20 pm	London The weather is quite brilliant over here. I wish every summer would be like this. Watched The Producers yesterday, and I think my acting training is ruining every show I will ever watch from this time on. Oh well, the show picked up speed in the second act, and it was really funny. The only two problems were the lack of air-conditioning (arr) and the hordes and hordes of fucking stupid, fucking loud and fucking irritating American high school students who wouldn't shut up or stop making retarded comments about, oh, everything. I wanted to hit them. Americans have invaded London, btw. There were four of them at the dim sum restaurant today, talking about god knows what, but loudly, so everyone in the restaurant could listen in. I guess it's a terrible thing to say I hate Americans. I mean, they can't help being wildly obnoxious and having the world's worst accent. Oh wait, they can shut up and die quietly. Anyway, enough about silly people. London is lovely and the more I come back, the more I realise I need money to enjoy this place thoroughly. Hence, the presence of my mother is fully appreciated. We bought two CDs from two separate groups of buskers at Covent Garden yesterday because they were being so damned charming/funny. Other than that...spent loads of time at Chinatown eating things, ate Thornton's, chilled at Covent Garden, admired chic clothing at a million stores (too expensive, damn the pound) and watched buskers all over. Oh, and then we watched the musical. I'm definitely going for Avenue Q one of these days. Also, my mother didn't bring my strappy brown heels, so I'm quite peeved and have to go shoe shopping today. Brother's graduation tomorrow. I hear it is quite dismal, unlike other wonderful universities in London that actually have atmosphere and some sort of prestige associated with such things. Damn. I was hoping to hear a famous graduation speaker or something brilliant. Oh well. Love London. Woohoo to culture and fabulous British accents and words spelt using the Queen's English! (5 Comments |Comment on this)
Sunday, July 9th, 2006
9:10 pm	While I was in church today, I thought: "Oh shit, I'm in the House of the Lord and I'm not wearing underwear." "If they make me stand up and sit down anymore, I'm going to fart." "You know, isn't this technically communism?" "Shitshitshit, I'm going to fart." "When is this going to end?" "So a man who was really the Son of God was born to a woman who never had sex but got pregnant anyway just so he could save the world by being nailed to two large chunks of wood is now a religious icon?" "Isn't that the really irritating woman whom F. doesn't like?" "Please, oh god, don't fart." (Comment on this)
Monday, July 3rd, 2006
11:34 pm	D. and I were taking a walk and she led me up this slight incline in the middle of green fields. At the very top, I saw...everything. It was like a commercial for heaven, except it wasn't fake, didn't come with a jingle and...oh god. I couldn't breathe and I wanted to hold my arms out, tilt my head to the light and absorb the moment. It's good being back with family, except that D. isn't really family. This makes me crave some sort of bonding even more. I want her 2 oddball brothers who goof around and make fun of television dramas. I want her parents because...they're parents. Even better, there are two of them. I just want to belong to someone. Not in a kinky, pig leather and bowling ball way. At the end of the day, I come back with all these brilliant experiences and memories and I want to turn to someone with a gleam in my eyes and say - guess what I did today? Guess what I saw, guess what I thought about, let me tell you about it, let me share it with you, let me share my life and my loves with you...let me... be really pushy and overbearing. Gods, I feel like I suck. (Comment on this)