Paranoid rhymed with Humanoid

Tonight I walked home with an intense paranoia, so I combated it by mouthing along to the tunes on my iPod and making the people around me KNOW that I was more of a nutter than first they might have thought.

Only recently rediscovered my iPod. That bit of tech that gives the world a full blown soundtrack that is ever slightly more interesting than traffic, sirens, wind, footsteps and delay announcements that never quite keep in rhythm with my thoughts. Now suddenly, I'm in control of my very own private movie where the lady in the sickening snugly couple on the tube is in fact only sleeping with him for his money and shagging his brother on the side (Cheating Gets It Faster by Jimmy Eat World) and the baby in the pram is a complete genius with an IQ to the equivalent of always being sure if it's "who" or "whom" (Bohemian Rhapsody) (If I have to tell you who that is by then you should not be reading this and I think you should leave) (Okay you can stay but you are on your last warning) (Busted) (I'm so hilarious, I meant the Bee Gees).

Oh, I got mugged yesterday. But if you want REAL news, I also found the most perfect pair of boots online. They will be mine, oh yes, they will be mine. They will perfectly match my fancy designer purse that my Mum got me for my bir... oh yeah, that totally got taken unlawfully from my bag by a few lowlife scumbags... Anyhow the boots will totally go with my new found rage and bitterness. I mean, my stripey purple socks.

Going to find some sleep now... I think I left it in my pillow. One of them. I have lots of pillows. Big ones, teeny ones, normal ones and uncomfortable ones. Oh. I left the sleep in the uncomfortable one. Night!

Not a review...

You know those people who remain completely and annoyingly calm when everyone else is panicking and flailing their hands around? One half of my brain is like that and the other half is so preoccupied being annoyed at the annoyingly calm half so its forgetting to panic and flail.

"Panic" "No! Lets have brunch"

That's my brain having a fight.

I know, I'm insane. Insane people don't know their insane. So I'm sane.
Brain hurt?

I had a lovely birthday long weekend (who said I'm getting old!) seeing family, friends and bottoms of glasses and bottles. It's funny going home, there are pavemented areas in the market place, Internationale has moved, there's a new menu in the pub, my brothers got a girlfriend and my adopted sis has her tongue pierced yet nothings changed. It's the same, and it's so noticeably and comfortably small. I could never get lost there, I'd know exactly where to call a taxi to and where to tell him to go and who could lend me the money to pay for it. I miss it. But let's not be depressing, I live in London! Where if I wanted, I could never be found.

"That almost made sense" "No it didn't"

My blog. So ner.

Crazy For You

Crazy For You

This was one of those shows that makes you wish your life was a musical... where people you've never met spontaneously join in with your even more spontaneous dance routine in the middle of a sunlit street, where you wear your tap dancing shoes where ever you go, where heartthrobbingly beautiful and chiseled men serenade you and where you know everything will turn out just fine because, lets face it, you're in a musical!

If only eh?

Crazy for You does take you into this dream world... the Gershwin music fest involved one of the most enchanting renditions of Embraceable You that I've ever heard and the most spectacular drunk dance routine - fair enough the only one I've seen, especially one in a small Cowboy town's saloon... but pretty special all the same. The interchangeable set was a bit of genius and I hope that Peter Mckintosh uses it in his pick up lines... Of course the tap dancing routines were insane but the choreography smoothly running next to his moving and revolving set was just as, if not more, impressive and I hope Susan Stroman is proud, even if she does have an incredible wealth of projects to be proud of already.

The performances were genuine and powerful despite the first night (on the West End) nerves that any mentally sound person would have. The cowboys were eye pleasing as I'm sure the chorus girls were to the men in the crowd... saying that, I'll be honest, there wasn't an overload of women hungry men in the crowd... I wouldn't lie to you dear readers. Sean Palmer played Bobby Child with a Gene Kelly charm and a cuteness akin to that boyfriend most girls have had where they know they'd be useless in a fight but love them anyway and Clare Foster embraced Polly Baker as the tomboy-ish (but still manlier than most of the audience) cow girl with a sweetly beautiful soprano and a slightly faltering accent. 

I must say though, the first half much outweighed the second... To say it was a disappointment though is unfair, the dance routines were entertaining, the music energetic... It just felt like someone had written the first half of an essay weeks ago, was very happy with it and knew it would go down a storm and then has come back to the second half, the night before the deadline, resulting in a half-hearted, stretched out version of the notes. Basically it was lacking, perhaps the writers thought they had better wrap things up and get the audience on their way. I hope not.

Having said that, they were probably one of those annoying bastards who rushed it and still got a first.

Crazy for You was lovely and deserves all the five stars it can get. Here's another one.