Of Lovers, Acting, and Housing

Little Suzy Stardust, with the nova in her eye,
She flew over the seas and she flew under the sky.
And all who saw her loved her so she came to little harm,
And she touched down on my doorstep and she fell into my arms.

Happy birthday, Savannah.








But sorry, you're not getting a whole post to yourself.
I'm in a curious mood. Curiously furious, hah-hah! But seriously. I'm discontent. I can make no use of my discontent, look at me, I'm quoting Shakespeare! Alright, enough of my rambling, let's type. It's been ages since I wrote a deconstructive post about my life, so let's do that.

First off, Much Ado About Nothing rehearsals are well underway. And what's more, they are WONDERFUL. The cast is lovely. Funnily enough I've never worked with a cast I don't like, though, so that might not mean much. But I spend most of my time laughing in rehearsals, so nothing could be better. I am suspecting as time goes on that I don't have the knack for performing Shakespeare - not that I can't do the lines I have or play the character I have, but that the sheer head-crushing depth of the lines is difficult to commit to memory. "I know not that when he knows what I know" is deceptively simple but took me WAY too long to memorize. I can only imagine the brain processes of the more major parts. But I digress. I am content with my role (El Bastardo, yay!) and I am content with those rehearsals.

But.

But, there's always a but, isn't there? But right now I'm way more engrossed in my own work - The Case. I know, I know, I'm turning it into an obsession and I'm setting myself up for disappointment if MUST don't pick it up but good lord it can be a good show, and good lord I want to put it on. I only hope that I can keep it together right up until I get confirmation or rejection, because right now the narrative is threatening to explode out of me and I want to wait until I know birthing it will have a purpose. Still, we'll see. Are you getting the impression that my life is a lot of theatre? You'd be right.

What else? I have decided that I do not like my sharehouse. My room is strangely oppressive, uni hasn't started yet so I haven't felt the benefits of living so close to it, and my housemates don't know how to use a rubbish bin so the place is always a tip. It drives me nuts (and angry letters from the landlord about the state of the place aren't helping my nerves, to be honest). But in all honesty, the only REAL reason I'm not happy with the place is because it isn't Pat's place.

As you can probably tell from my last post, I'm still with Pat. I will try not to gush too much. But honestly. Two months now, and I not only want to move in with him, I want to share a room with him. It baffles me how much I've changed over the past year or two (for further evidence of this change, see http://jasiondrake.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-experiment.html). I'm in love. I told somebody I loved them and so far it hasn't exploded in my face. And I can't remember how it felt to be alone. If he leaves me I'll be so ridiculously wounded but I don't think he will, and somehow that makes me happiest of all.
Hopefully the first two of many, many months.

I suppose that's all for the evening. Or perhaps not. A haiku!

Not easy to love,
I tried, I failed, and I fell.
And then you were there.