Random Shit

I am watching the brilliant and beautiful and heartbreaking and traumatic and terrible and wonderful Angels in America, which I first saw at the Court Theatre about ten years ago, and which has haunted me since. You should all be watching this. I don't pretend to be any sort of theatre critic, but I did spend a significant amount of my academic career studying literature, and the levels on which this play is superb are continually amazing.
It is as good as Equus.

And thats saying something.

My weekend was fairly good, aside from the having to clean up after the former flatmates who quite obviously did sweet FA in regards to cleaning up our former residence. But me and Dave laid the smackdown on the filth, and it ran in terror, and the landlord agreed to give us back our bond. Yay. We rule.
Went to Charlie's party on Saturday night, and I think I might have scared Nic. He was looking all scruffy and stubbly, and quite frankly looked really hot. So, of course being the mistress of subtlety, I told him so, and so kept having Mugatu moments with the whole "Hes so hot right now" thing.
It was all a bit amusing really.

I had a night off work on Sunday, and so spent a goodly amount of time just chilling out at home, which I don't do nearly enough.
I got an interesting phonecall today. You see, as faithful readers may know, I have been trying to find a way in which to get full time work at university so that I can leave the restaurant, cos quite frankly, I'm over it. The restaurant manager called me today and asked me to come in half an hour early today, cos she wanted to "talk to me". My immediate response was "am I in trouble?" and spent the rest of the afternoon wondering if I had inadvertently done something horribly wrong in the last few days to merit a talking to. However, it appears that management had heard the rumour that I was intending to leave, and so they offered me a better job and more money. They love me, really. So thats nice. So now I have a lot of work, and will be earning arseloads of money for the rest of the year. One is very conscious of the fact that in one and a half years one will be turning 30, and would very much like to have a few thousand dollars stashed away somewhere. I'm getting to be OK with turning 30 soon, but I think that a significant factor in my being OK with it may involve the fact that Sarah, Bridget, Bianca, Hester, Chizuru and Faine will all be 30 before me. So as it turns out, there are advantages to being the youngest in your class at school.
Anyway, I'm starting to talk shit now, so I think I'll be off, perhaps some sleep might be in order.
I did intend to mention the fact however, that these are some cool lyrics, and I think that the line
"I was walking around the flower show like a leper
Coming down with some kind of nervous hysteria"
is up there on the coolest lyric of all time list.

Theres my two cents.
Good night.

PS. I saw the new girlfriend of someone formerly known as Good Thing (now known as Lying Bastard), and quite frankly, woof.
Ha ha ha.
One is reminded of a classic Pacey quote from Dawson's Creek, and I'm just gagging to say it to the chap in question.

Not that I ever watched Dawson's Creek.
Never.
It was complete arse.
Really.
I just watched it once.
Honestly.

Step one is admitting you are powerless over your addiction.

Go to bed Claire!!