Not a review...

You know those people who remain completely and annoyingly calm when everyone else is panicking and flailing their hands around? One half of my brain is like that and the other half is so preoccupied being annoyed at the annoyingly calm half so its forgetting to panic and flail.

"Panic" "No! Lets have brunch"

That's my brain having a fight.

I know, I'm insane. Insane people don't know their insane. So I'm sane.
Brain hurt?

I had a lovely birthday long weekend (who said I'm getting old!) seeing family, friends and bottoms of glasses and bottles. It's funny going home, there are pavemented areas in the market place, Internationale has moved, there's a new menu in the pub, my brothers got a girlfriend and my adopted sis has her tongue pierced yet nothings changed. It's the same, and it's so noticeably and comfortably small. I could never get lost there, I'd know exactly where to call a taxi to and where to tell him to go and who could lend me the money to pay for it. I miss it. But let's not be depressing, I live in London! Where if I wanted, I could never be found.

"That almost made sense" "No it didn't"

My blog. So ner.

Crazy For You

Crazy For You

This was one of those shows that makes you wish your life was a musical... where people you've never met spontaneously join in with your even more spontaneous dance routine in the middle of a sunlit street, where you wear your tap dancing shoes where ever you go, where heartthrobbingly beautiful and chiseled men serenade you and where you know everything will turn out just fine because, lets face it, you're in a musical!

If only eh?

Crazy for You does take you into this dream world... the Gershwin music fest involved one of the most enchanting renditions of Embraceable You that I've ever heard and the most spectacular drunk dance routine - fair enough the only one I've seen, especially one in a small Cowboy town's saloon... but pretty special all the same. The interchangeable set was a bit of genius and I hope that Peter Mckintosh uses it in his pick up lines... Of course the tap dancing routines were insane but the choreography smoothly running next to his moving and revolving set was just as, if not more, impressive and I hope Susan Stroman is proud, even if she does have an incredible wealth of projects to be proud of already.

The performances were genuine and powerful despite the first night (on the West End) nerves that any mentally sound person would have. The cowboys were eye pleasing as I'm sure the chorus girls were to the men in the crowd... saying that, I'll be honest, there wasn't an overload of women hungry men in the crowd... I wouldn't lie to you dear readers. Sean Palmer played Bobby Child with a Gene Kelly charm and a cuteness akin to that boyfriend most girls have had where they know they'd be useless in a fight but love them anyway and Clare Foster embraced Polly Baker as the tomboy-ish (but still manlier than most of the audience) cow girl with a sweetly beautiful soprano and a slightly faltering accent. 

I must say though, the first half much outweighed the second... To say it was a disappointment though is unfair, the dance routines were entertaining, the music energetic... It just felt like someone had written the first half of an essay weeks ago, was very happy with it and knew it would go down a storm and then has come back to the second half, the night before the deadline, resulting in a half-hearted, stretched out version of the notes. Basically it was lacking, perhaps the writers thought they had better wrap things up and get the audience on their way. I hope not.

Having said that, they were probably one of those annoying bastards who rushed it and still got a first.

Crazy for You was lovely and deserves all the five stars it can get. Here's another one.

Rock of Ages

In the teenage mind of fifty years ago, ten years ago and nowadays, the words "rock" and "musical" would never have made it into the same sentence... unless it was in a sarcastically and/or dramatically comparative sentence... but then most sentences, from my recollection, that teenagers come out with, are sarcastic or dramatic. That's not me generalizing teenagers... I'm simply being sarcastic and dramatic and remembering the old days.

Anyhow, times have changed and the term "rock musical" is a steadfast phrase in the West End frequenter's vocabulary. Which, let’s face it, is pretty awesome.

The audience to last Thursday evening's performance of Rock of Ages included many a teenager - wearing black, baggy band t-shirts similar to the ones I wear to bed and with hair similar to how mine looks in the morning- clutching their free torch lighter high in the air and bellowing the lyrics along with the performers as if to prove that, hell yeah, they know the words. This isn't a regular occurrence in Theatreland but Rock Of Ages seemed to inspire it and it was just one of the distractions provided in the experience. For example, there was the crotches... lot of crotches thrusted into the audience with a poignant vigour and for once I wasn't (as I normally am on the West End) envious of those sat in the front row, particularly because the ladies' outfits were... unconventional. I imagine it would have been just as distracting as the beer sellers were to the audience members who were sat on the aisle seats.

This rock musical gives you pretty much what you expect... with a mixed tape of classic rock anthems played live by an incredible rock band ('Arsenal') and thrown together to create some resemblance of a story line... On the interval, I started to ponder whether the show was going to develop into anything more meaningful but upon my return I was duly informed that that they are fully and sarcastically aware of their lacking, which was the biggest ironic laugh of the night. They invite you to laugh at (in a good way), as well as with them as the compere describes his lust for a show with a fantastically deep script and full of character development... but instead he presents Rock of Ages. So refreshing to watch a show that doesn't take itself too seriously, in a rock n roll way. You know the way... where eyeliner and synthetic leather trousers are acceptable.

Now, I don't want you thinking that this isn't a recommendation. It is. It was fabulously pretentious and unequivocally flighty and I freaking loved it! My only disappointment would be that my face did not melt as advertised. My face was permanently fixed to a shameless  grin that only broadened while watching the compere in skin tight jeans (nice), and wearing more eyeliner than me, twirl his pink nipple tassle around and around with inconceivable skill and  while listening to a charming camp character proclaim that no, he wasn't gay, simply Dutch. Classic, cheesy, cheap and fabulous. 

Rock of Ages is not a show you can look unimpressed with in the same way you can't look unimpressed with a particularly over-zealous rollercoaster. Don't expect Shakespeare but expect to be entertained.

Dreams of the day and the night

This upcoming sentence might sound strange... but since when does that bother me?

But my day dreams kick my night dreams' ass.

For example. 

Here are my last two dreams of the night time kind that I remember, in no particular order apart from alphabetical....

I helped move my best friend's stuff from one room to another identical room. 

Yes. That's actually it. And I list "creative" as one of my attributes.

And the second...

I wake up in bed (in the dream) with millions of staples in my thigh. I proceed to pull each of them out while teaching a class of students (still from my bed) about economics. I should hereby mention I'm not entirely sure what economics is. I also list "intelligent" as one of my attributes.

So, in conclusion, I have very dull and slightly disturbing night dreams.

My day dreams include, in no particular order apart from reverse numerically....

2. Spiderman styley exiting my office window and ordering a subway (footlong, meatballs, extra cheese, lettuce, tomato and a splash of mayo) (toasted) from the nearby stall whilst hanging upside down... with an ice cold diet coke which I then drink upside down and it doesn't come out of my nose. And I totally count "table manners" as one of my attributes.

1. I'm going to be an incredibly successful producer/singer/actress/entrepreneur who cures world hunger and instigates world peace. I also invent my own language called Hedele... And have a bath with a built in jacuzzi which I could basically do a lap in. I'd still be modest about it (it's one of my attributes)

Day dreams are freaking awesome!

Bit of a dramatic week. Dreams still holding on through. 

I say dramatic, but I'm not a dramatic person. Apart from when I nearly get hit by a car. I squeal and giggle nervously before giggling then squealing and attempting to make it look like I'm on Trigger Happy TV and it's all to make THEM look like fools. Yes. Them. Definitely not me.

Good night fellow oxygen breathers that are able to read. 

A blog about not having anything to blog about.

Isn't it annoying when people say you have an accent, when actually THEY are the ones with an accent?

Sometimes I sit down at the end of a day and think to myself, "I am going to write a blog now" and I settle down, turn my laptop on and sign in.
And nothing.
Blank. Zip. Nil. Nada. Zilch.
I suddenly have nothing to say.
Logic says I should always have something to blog about for the plain and simple fact that when your talking to me face to face, its fairly difficult to shut me up.
However, as my friend H pointed out last night, I'm very aware of when I'm being dull. My friend Joe is particularly aware of this and often finishes our phone conversations with "Ok, I'm going now, you're boring me". The fact that I am used to this concerns me.

I will attempt to be inspired.

I'm watching X-Men Origins - Wolverine. It's an easy watch. Got to love the X-Men films really. If you don't, you're probably very boring and the only thing we may have in common is QI... which I will watch to laugh at the irony and enjoy the banter (whilst learning)... and you will watch for the satisfaction of answering the questions before the contestants and ruining it for the rest of us.

Speaking of QI, it's my Father's birthday today.
You know that bit right at the end of an episode of QI when the scores have been given out and Stephen says his final anecdote... an anecdote that promises to be witty, ironic and quite interesting? That is my favourite part of the whole programme. And that is the time of day that my Father wants to start a conversation.

Thank God for Sky+ or I would have disowned him a while a go.

On another note, I heard a gentleman in a cap and jeans that started around his thighs call his friend "a idiot" today, to which his friend replied - this is brilliant - "mate, you don't even know how to speak man, who's AN idiot now". There is hope in the world.

Oh look, I had something to talk about.