Thoughts of an Anarchist

I have a new jumper and it is warm!

Someone say something thoughtprovoking or amusing. Or both.

Abs x

 Plus tard dans la vie, je préférerais habiter dans un maison. Avec jardin.

 Later in life, I would like to live in a house. With a garden.

 Le monde est un endroit dangeroux et cruèl… et merveilleux.

 The world is a cruel and dangerous… and wonderful place.

 Je m’entends bien avec ma mere. Elle ne boit pas trop. Vraiment.

 I get on well with my mother. She does not drink too much. Really.

 On s’ennie pas ici.

 We don’t get bored here.

 Ce qui me plait.

 It pleases me.

 J’aimerais recontrer et garder le contact avec les gens.

 I would like to meet and keep in contact with people.

 J’irai certainment à l’université.

 I will definately go to university.

 Je peux le faire.

 I can do it.

 Je voudrais avoir des enfants.

 I would like to have children.

 Qu’est-ce que tu vas faire le week-end prochain avec ta famille?

 What will you do next weekend with your family?

 … O, beaucoup de choses!

 O, lots of things!

 Oui, oui, j’adore la vie. J’adore la Français. Et… un plus mensonge…

 Je fais ma devoirs!

Here are some amusing things said in the last week.

The Quotes:

“She’s well used to ‘Hide the Purple Parsnip.”

“Eraaaaseable!”

“You don’t need this limb, do you?”

“I don’t want to work in lessons!”

“Hopefully, this will work. If it doesn’t, I shall throw Abigail’s pencil case around the room.”

“Lololololololol…. er, haha?”

“He was screaming, bleeding, praying for help. I think it’s very painful?”

“I must not bite!”

“Um… why have the lights gone out?”

“Ton mère.”

“You killed him. You killed Dom, Dane.”

The Quotees:

Jess RM, Some Science Guy, Felix, Dane, Me, Georgia, Dom, Sarm, Ashley, Mr Fizziks, Me Again.

Guess, guess, go go go. (I DO NOT just update about drama. See, I’ve gone a whole blog without mentioning - oh, bollocks.)

Abs x

Google Video Search for Wicked + Idina Menzel. Or just find the songs somewhere. I don’t care. I have the whole album and I’m watching the video right now for the first time and it’s bloody brilliant.

“I don’t see why you can’t just teach us history, instead of all this harping on about the past.”

“There’s been some confusion for you see my room-mate is…”
“Unuuuusually-and-exceeediinglllyyy-percuuuuliar and altogether-quite-imposssssiiible-tooo-descriiiiiibe!”
“… Blonde.”

“You’ll be POPULAR! … Just not quite as… popular… as me.”

“Well, I can see that once again the job of corrupting my fellow students falls to me. Fortunately I am up to the task.”

AND I’m only up to 33 minutes. I think Sophie would like this. The music is superb, some of the best musical songs I’ve heard, it’s hiLARIOUS, the characters are fun and the storyline engaging… it is in general one of the best musicals I’ve seen. And I don’t, as a rule, like musicals.

Defying Gravity > All other songs.

Yay!

Also, I got a B in my Maths, so yay. I got a B in English, so boo.

School = sucky.

Also. SHIT. WE ARE PERFORMING IN THREE MONTHS = ER, WEEKS, I MEANT WEEKS, I TYPED WEEKS, NOTHING TO SEE HERE. THREE WEEKS! I AM DOOMED AND GOING TO DIE. DIE. DIE. DIE. DIE.

AND THEN I WILL DIE.

Abs x

Mocks are almost over, just Fizziks to go; I’ve just found out one of my friends hates me, and it is entirely my fault… but it’s always nasty when friendships end; we find out our maths results on Thursday and I’m shitting myself…

And aside from that, there is nothing to say.

Except how great John Barrowman’s voice is. Oh, lordy. 

This is what I have been saying to you people! In PINTER’S. OWN. WORDS!

(Spoilers for the plot, but if you’re coming to see it chances are you know the play from me making you go through lines with me anyway…) 

A View Of The Party

I
The thought that Goldberg was A man she might have known Never crossed Meg’s words That morning in the room. The thought that Goldberg was A man another knew Never crossed her eyes When, glad, she welcomed him. The thought that Goldberg was A man to dread and know Jarred Stanley in the blood When, still, he heard his name. While Petey knew, not then, But later, when the light Full up upon their scene, He looked into the room. And by morning Petey saw The light begin to dim (That daylight full of sun) Though nothing could be done.	Allied in their theme, They imposed upon the room A dislocation and doom, Though Meg saw nothing done. The party they began, To hail the birthday in, Was generous and affable, Though Stanley sat alone. The toasts were said and sung, All spoke of other years, Lulu, on Goldberg’s breast, Looked up into his eyes. And Stanley sat — alone, A man he might have known, Triumphant on his hearth, Which never was his own. For Stanley had no home. Only where Goldberg was, And his bloodhound McCann, Did Stanley remember his name? They played at blind man’s buff, Blindfold the game was run, McCann tracked Stanley down, The darkness down and gone Found the game lost and won, Meg, all memory gone, Lulu’s lovenight spent, Petey impotent; A man they never knew In the centre of the room, And Stanley’s final eyes Broken by McCann. 1958
II
Nat Goldberg, who arrived With a smile on every face, Accompanied by McCann, Set a change upon the place. The thought that Goldberg was Sat in the centre of the room, A man of weight and time, To supervise the game. The thought that was McCann Walked in upon this feast, A man of skin and bone, With a green stain on his chest.

Squee!

Also, Jimmy is the best ever. I may have found the cure for period pains. More on this theory later.

Abs x

I hotlink. I am a very bad person.

Birthday Party rehearsals still going superbly. One thing is for certain; one way or another, this play is going to be worth seeing. It is going to be the most amazing play ever, both to perform and to watch. I almost wish I could come myself.

However, last night I got so into it I couldn’t snap out. We were rehearsing the interrogation scene, you see, and I was hissing and spitting in Stanley’s face, and getting so close to his ear that I could breath on his neck, and wanting to kill him; genuinely wanting to kill Dane, for Christ’s sake!, and almost driven insane by the idea of McCann and THAT PAPER. AGAIN. PUT IT DOWN, FOR GOD’S SAKE, SEAMUS.

So yeah, when Dom said that was it, I went to put my watch and glasses and school top back on, and I couldn’t. Physically couldn’t. I had to put them back down, because I didn’t feel right. And I was still walking and talking like Goldberg, and when Dane came over to chat to me, I did a very unnerving little grin, and felt like strangling him, like I was sizing him up and assessing just how I could get to him, and thinking about murder and torture. Anyway, calmed down, went to wait for the bus. It wasn’t until after Kat had gone home on her bus and we were stood chatting about everything and nothing, when Dane mentioned how everything got scarier in the dark, and his opinions of fate and destiny, that I felt it rising again. I wanted to hit him. Because there was NO POINT to this discussion. And it was discussing something I had no control over.

And then I shook my head and Dane asked what was wrong and I explained that I was still feeling like Goldberg, like wanting to punch him, and he said he could understand why, but it wasn’t affecting him quite so much, although he still gets stressed at home, and gets really bitter when his family try to talk to him. I’m taking bets on which one of us decides they have a phobia of drums or cornflakes first. We’re all already nervous whenever anyone suggests sitting down. “Why? What do you mean?!” (I spoke to him in an impromptu rehearsal today, called for no reason, in which I just couldn’t be Goldberg, couldn’t switch on, and he said he’d gone home that night and got stuck in Stanley. So it’s not just me who’s going insane. Hooray! It’s not just me who’s happily losing my brain!)

So this is what it’s like, eh? Stressful, strenuous, intense rehearsal, no letups, struggling with lines, blissful when you get it right and kicking yourself the rest of the time, praying for the slightest bit of praise from your director, soaking up every word he says, becoming consumed by the character and living, eating, and breathing the play?

YES.

THIS is what I want to do. Yes, yes, yes, YIPPEE!

IM IN UR BLOGZ POSTIN BOUT ZEBRAZ.

BITCH.

THEY. HAVE TAKEN AWAY. MY FUCKING CAT.

THEY PUT HER IN THE GODDAMN CAR AND TOOK HER TO FUCKING PORTSMOUTH AND THEY DIDN’T EVEN TELL ME SO I WAS OUT WHEN THEY TOOK MY CAT AWAY FOREVER. MY BEAUTIFUL BABY. MY FUCKING GODDAMN CAT.

ARSE FUCKITY FUCK ARRRRSE.

WANKERS. ALL MY RELATIVES ARE WANKERS AND I NEED A CUP OF TEA BUT THAT REQUIRES GOING DOWNSTAIRS AND ALSO I AM OUT OF TISSUES DUE TO TOO MUCH CRYING OH THE WANKERS I WANT MY CEEKI BACK.

I so desperately need a cuddle right now.