Got there without incident but then got lost TWICE looking for the stoopid post office and the stoopid building society and the stoopid market. Bearing in mind that this crummy town has only four main streets, two of which go up and down and two of which go across, that�s no mean feat. I know where EVERYTHING is in Chav Ville � it�s a squillion times bigger and the streets are in no regular pattern but I can get around with no problems AT ALL. Here in Chigley tho�, I just cant seem to get the hang of it � I suppose its only been four months but I�m sick of not knowing where to get stuff, and I don�t know the road names so getting directions is no help if someone says "Go down St Catherine�s, turn into Ruskins, go around where the cinema used to be (HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT???) and it�s along there by the old library". Bah.
Anyway, did my chores and bought a massive pumpkin in the market for much cheaper than Id seen them in the supermarket. So chuffed with my success was I (and slightly light-headed with the astonishing achievement of not going into the mall to get myself a little glittery something as compensation for getting lost), that the pumpkin was paid for and in a carrier bag before I remembered that I�d have to schlep the bloody thing home as I didn�t have the car with me. Bah again.
Got home slightly sweaty but otherwise without incident to find BF laying down some drum tracks for a job he�s doing for one of the holiday companies. Either that or he was repeatedly falling down a fire escape whilst carrying a large pile of baking trays, biscuit tins and large plastic water butts. Can�t be sure.
Last night of the play tonight which means After Show Party. BF is going to get a cab into ChavVille to join me (cant face it on my own) and we will be staying for the absolute minimum of time. Ive paid my two-pound-fifty towards the food budget. If there are more than two flabby anaemic shop-bought quiches, I�m going to ask for a refund. Ditto rice salad with bits of raw green pepper in. And peas.
There�s going to be �music� (*sigh*) � apparently some ligger who�s got herself onto the guest list is �like, a really good folk singer, yeah?�. Kill me. Kill me now.
Or, so I�m told, we can just take CD�s and listen to �like, whatever we want� � If there�s a God above, please don�t let it be Coldplay. (nothing against them per se, but not at a party ferchristsake). Mercifully, it is unlikely we will be able to hear anything at all over the noise of people blowing their own trumpets.
One girl, who�s sole job it is to assist with ONE quick costume change between Acts 2 and 3, spent the evening practising bits from her upcoming Grade 8 singing exam. Not in a performance-y kind of way where it would have all been over in 20 minutes and we could�ve applauded and�.moved on. But in 30-second snatches, accompanied by much furrowing of brow and shuffling of manuscript and pretended analysis of tricky bits of score. Just so we would ALL know exactly what she was doing she kept up an informative running commentary too. "Omigosh this is SO hard, but I just LOVE Verdi, la-la-lala-la-LA � oh no, wait a minute, it�s B flat, la-la-lala-LAH, oh that�s better". We�ve all done cool stuff that sets us apart from the hoi polloi but its so much more rock and roll just to let that kind of stuff drift into the public domain rather than ram it down their throats, isn�t it?
Just as I was about to take off my shoe and cave her head in with it, someone else in the room mentioned a play that I�d studied. I was about to leave anyway so I just said "oh yeah, that�s cool, I did that for my RADA exam, like 20 years ago" and left Miss UpHerOwnArse gasping "Omigosh, did you do RADA exams? Which one�s? Omigosh! Speaking of Verse and Prose AND Acting? Omigosh!" but by then I was walking down the alley sniggering in a wry sort of way. I know it�s childish but I just couldn�t resist.
And anyway, like I said, it was actually 23 years ago and didn�t make the slightest difference to my life, then, since or now.
I may have to face further questioning tonight, tho�. Bah.
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