"All my pretty ones? Did you say all?
O hell-kite! All?
What, all my pretty chickens and their dam at one fell swoop?"
Tonight we went to see the younger cast perform "The Scottish Play," which I actually do not fear saying the name of. Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth!!! I yell it to the sky, without fear. Like a young Harry Potter unafraid of uttering "You Know Who's" name... Voldemort!
Ha! Take that, universe!
Anyway. It was a tremendous performance. Macbeth was played by a tall beautiful woman who pulled the role off very well even though she forgot lines and used the script for the second act. She cried at the end -- not sure if she was embarrassed about using the script or not... but hey. HEY. Honey. It's a hard hard play! A lot of lines and yelling. A lot of drama. A lot of words. And a great job was done.
And I always cry when Macduff's family gets killed, and he mourns them with my quote of the moment... all in one fell swoop? Yes. All in one fell swoop. And let me tell you people -- the kids who played Macduff's family? They died amazingly well. Wow. They were little too. Which really amazed me. It made me actually mist up and almost cry right there.
That's some good acting.
The only problem that was had this time was not the rain, which thankfully held off, but a rock band playing in the pavilion at top volume!
It is hard to compete when yelling "bubble bubble toil and trouble!" when across the hill a Van Halen cover rages on hardcore and loud.
The kids did a great job, and I loved seeing them perform. I didn't know a single one. Not a one. But loved it.
As usual, I took a milliondy pictures and they are uploaded in flickr at their set. Do go see. You gotta love the witches.
Tell me you love the witches.
Tomorrow (and tomorrow, and tomorrow... HA!) Jess starts work on the August session of RSC and they are doing King Lear. I can only wonder what she'll be cast as. I hope it is one of the bitchy evil sisters. That'd be awesome.
Speaking of witches and the aforementioned Harry Potter, I did procure book seven on Monday of last week, and I did read it. I won't post spoilers here, or even opinions about what happened, lest I ruin things for a reader or two who have lives and haven't yet had a moment to pick up the book.
The only thing I will say is that it took me four days to read it. It was not the page turner that books four and five were for me -- where I found myself awake at 3am reading and saying "what the hell am I doing! I have to go to work tomorrow!!!"
So I read a lot last week, and when it was time to go to sleep, I put the book down without my brain crying out for more. And that says a lot about what I thought about the book. It certainly was good -- don't get me wrong. But. I'm re-reading book three right now and ... it's just better. Better writing. Better storytelling. Better.
And after seven editions of his story, I thought I'd pine the end of Harry's tale. But I don't. I am okay with it. I don't feel let down. I don't feel as destroyed as I thought I would be at the end of the epic. And that kind of surprises me a lot.
Anyway. The only reason why I am currently awake is there is a load of laundry in the washer that I will need to put in the dryer, lest it rot in this heat and humidity. Stupid me. I can't believe I started laundry at 10:30pm. Gah. Well -- it gave me time to work on pictures and mess with flickr sets and upload stuff to facebook too. I'm enjoying their photo interface more than flickr. I can upload 60 pictures to an album. With flickr, I can only upload 6 pictures at a time and that's just a royal pain in the ass.
And on that note -- I'm off to check the laundry to see if it is dryer ready. I hope it is. Cross your fingers kiddies.