(no subject)
I just saw Cats again. First time I've seriously watched that in... years. And I still know it by heart.
I'll never get used to seeing Growltiger as a comic piece. Hearing it on the album, it has a power that is sadly diminished by the comic efforts of the performance.
I don't miss the Pekes and the Pollicles. As beautifully British and hilarious as it is, it's not exactly my favorite number.
Mistoffelees is so, so gay. Seriously. He and Rum Tum Tugger are like, the gayest felines on the face of the planet. Even gayer than Munkustrap. Or Alonzo. ... Honestly, all the male cats in that show are pretty gay. Then again, they *are* dancers.
The guy who played Mistoffelees, however, is a bitch. He's one of those "don't talk to me, don't ask me to sign your autograph, you shouldn't even be here by our stage door" sorts of people. They're poops. Dancers can be real poops.
But the guy who played Skimbleshanks was good. I told him that my mom knew Reed Jones, the guy who created the role on Broadway, and he was impressed. Then I told him it made her tear up every time, and he seemed touched. I don't know if he knows the fate that befell Reed Jones - I guess it's really presumptuous to assume he does. It's not exactly the most well-known legend in the theater world. Yeah, Reed Jones died of AIDS. The woman who created Grizzabella died of ovarian cancer. Your point being?
Honestly, the magic of Cats is awesome. It's all... magical. And it's all Mistoffelees's fault.
Anyway.
Tomorrow is the anniversery of my birth. I don't really know what I'll be doing in the evening, but much of the day will be spent hiking. I'm taking the George Hiens trail off Terwilliger and hiking to Council Crest. I need "me alone in nature" time. Hopefully it'll be another beautiful rain-again, sun-again day like today. That was perfect.
I'll have my cell phone, but I'll be screening my calls and probably won't answer. Leave me a happy birthday message, and you'll make me the happiest person in the world. All I really want for my birthday is to know that people still care about me - even if I've been scarce these past few months.
And if you have an idea for something we could do in the late afternoon/evening, I'm game for hangin' out post-hike. Though expect me to be a bit ripe.
Welp. I should get some sleep. G'night all.
I'll never get used to seeing Growltiger as a comic piece. Hearing it on the album, it has a power that is sadly diminished by the comic efforts of the performance.
I don't miss the Pekes and the Pollicles. As beautifully British and hilarious as it is, it's not exactly my favorite number.
Mistoffelees is so, so gay. Seriously. He and Rum Tum Tugger are like, the gayest felines on the face of the planet. Even gayer than Munkustrap. Or Alonzo. ... Honestly, all the male cats in that show are pretty gay. Then again, they *are* dancers.
The guy who played Mistoffelees, however, is a bitch. He's one of those "don't talk to me, don't ask me to sign your autograph, you shouldn't even be here by our stage door" sorts of people. They're poops. Dancers can be real poops.
But the guy who played Skimbleshanks was good. I told him that my mom knew Reed Jones, the guy who created the role on Broadway, and he was impressed. Then I told him it made her tear up every time, and he seemed touched. I don't know if he knows the fate that befell Reed Jones - I guess it's really presumptuous to assume he does. It's not exactly the most well-known legend in the theater world. Yeah, Reed Jones died of AIDS. The woman who created Grizzabella died of ovarian cancer. Your point being?
Honestly, the magic of Cats is awesome. It's all... magical. And it's all Mistoffelees's fault.
Anyway.
Tomorrow is the anniversery of my birth. I don't really know what I'll be doing in the evening, but much of the day will be spent hiking. I'm taking the George Hiens trail off Terwilliger and hiking to Council Crest. I need "me alone in nature" time. Hopefully it'll be another beautiful rain-again, sun-again day like today. That was perfect.
I'll have my cell phone, but I'll be screening my calls and probably won't answer. Leave me a happy birthday message, and you'll make me the happiest person in the world. All I really want for my birthday is to know that people still care about me - even if I've been scarce these past few months.
And if you have an idea for something we could do in the late afternoon/evening, I'm game for hangin' out post-hike. Though expect me to be a bit ripe.
Welp. I should get some sleep. G'night all.