I suck, I know.

I've been sucking at blogging because I'm LEAVING. In less than 24 hours. When did this happen.

Proper updates will commence when I'm back in the US and have a new computer.

I could be in Ithaca, preparing to dump shit on naked freshman.

I could be in Sudbury, teasing my little brother and hanging out with Andrew.

I could be in California, frolicking with my wives in the sunshine (I should hope it's sunny now).

But I'm here. In London. And I'm happy about it.

I'm just not looking forward to this hurdle. I hope I have the momentum to make it over.

FML.

I left work over 2 hours ago. I just got home.

I work in Earl's Court. I live in Bayswater. Usually, this takes half an hour if I'm slow. I left get-out/get-in early enough to catch the last tube home. Until the tubes decided to fuck with me.

So I hoped on the last possible train and went to the only place I know how to catch a bus from: Charing Cross Railway Station. This is where you go to googlemaps or whatever and see just how far that is from work and home. It is, however, very close to Heaven, so therefore I know how to get home.

2 buses, 1 half hour wait and a can of pringles later, and I'm home.

Oh, and it's raining.

Oh, and I have to be at work at 10 AM. It's 2 AM now.

This is not a rant about my job. I love my job. This is in no way meant to reflect poorly on my theatre nor is it meant to be taken as me lashing out at my pitiful internship experience. This is me cataloguing an epic FML moment.

(FML stands for "fuck my life," for those who are not up to date with the lingo)

So now I'm going to eat another pringle and go to bed. Then in the morning, I'll get up, go to work and then write papers on my non-existent computer.

Do you sense a theme?

PS - I consider the can of pringles to be the biggest failure of the night. I refuse to eat my feelings.

It's all in the Motherboard.

So, I finally took Lappy to the doctor. The prognosis was not good.

My motherboard is dead. Fried. Kaput. Gone by the wayside.

It's too expensive to fix and I'm computerless. So, no more photos til I get back from London. No more youtube-ing. No more Skype (unless I mooch computers). No more late nights doing nothing and no more obsessive email checking.

I can still use my roommates computers if they'll let me, so I won't be ENTIRELY cut off. I just won't be able to do things like . . . write my art history paper at home. That'll be fun.

It's a gross grey day and this is a total FML moment, but I seem to be taking it all in stride. I think this is going to be OK.

A Quickie Before Stratford.

I depart for Stratford-upon-Avon in 8 hours. But first! This needed to be posted.

I am in love. His name is Jay Brannan and he doesn't know I exist.

In all seriousness, Jay Brannan is an amazingly talented singer/songwriter and actor. I first met him via Shortbus (an excellent movie, by the by) and it was love at first sight. Or rather, first song. In the movie, there's a short scene in which Jay sings a song called "Soda Shop." I immediately looked him up and bought everything he ever recorded.

Jay has released 2 EPs and one full-length album. His debut album, goddamned came out this summer. One of the remarkable things about Jay as an artist is his label. When conventional record labels wouldn't sign him without compromising his art, Jay took the profits from live gigs and EP sales and started a record label, Great Depression Records. He is a one-man operation, just trying to get his music out there. He really is phenomenal and I highly recommend that you, like I, go out and buy everything he's ever recorded. Honestly, he's worth the money and you're supporting a fantastic talent.

Anyway, he's just released a new music video for "Can't Have It All," one of my favorite songs off his album. Please check it out. Also, check out his website. And his blog. I follow his blog so you can find it through here but I'll post the website link below the video.



www.jaybrannan.com

In other news . . .

I have half a liter of Sangria in the fridge, a band-aid on my foot and a backpack full of underwear. It's Stratford time.

Journey to the Heart of Fabulous.

Last night, I went to see a new musical called "Priscilla, Queen of the Desert." You don't have to know me very well to know that this is the type of show that I hate. An old movie being musicalized, stuck up on stage and glossed over in merchandise is not my idea of theatre. I have nothing against musicals. I have something against the direction that "new" musical theatre is going. Last semester, I did a very angry (but quite witty) powerpoint presentation on Jukebox Musicals and why they can suck it (for the record, this was not the title of my presentation).

I decided to give Priscilla a chance. I had never seen the movie, but I had seen that sparkling, 20 foot high LED pump they have up on the marquee. That shining high heel is on of my landmarks when locating G-A-Y. Seriously, you can't miss this thing. Despite my moral opposition to Priscilla as a piece of art, I figured that drag queens are sort of my bag, so why not.

God, am I glad I went.

I was astonished. I was amazed. I laughed. I cried (from laughing). I almost peed myself. It was just brilliant. It was spectacle the likes of which I have NEVER before seen in my life, and yet I loved every second of it. It was just what I needed at that moment.

I think the appeal of Priscilla (at least for me) was all in the camp. This show was sparkle, shine and glitter. There was big hair and bigger dresses. It was absolutely ridiculous. There was a very sweet story buried underneath all that sequins, but it never took itself seriously for more than 30 seconds. One moment you were touched and the next moment leather clad chorus boys singing "Venus" reminded you exactly where you were. And it was beautiful.

I am very embarrassed to make the following statement. But I'm going to do it anyway.

Seeing "Priscilla, Queen of the Desert: the musical" reminded me why I want to do theatre for the rest of my life.

Now, I know this is a ludicrous statement. Trust me, I know. But you haven't seen the show. So don't judge. OK, so I know you're going to judge anyway, but nothing can describe the sheer joy I felt sitting in that theatre. It was really magical and ridiculous and . . . I think it's the elation. It's that feeling of elation that makes me want to keep going forever and ever and ever.

In non-Priscilla news, lappy's still busted. I think I'm going to try to get her fixed (at least temporarily) tomorrow. The G20 summit is in town (as are the Obamas). I had to walk by a police barricade on my way to work, so that was fun? Oh, and I'm trying desperately to sublet the Bungalow for the summer. But at least we have a full house for next year!!

One month and counting til I'm back in Ithaca. When did that happen?