Jeremy Dennis is Jeremy Day (cleanskies) wrote,
Jeremy Dennis is Jeremy Day
cleanskies
  • Mood: thrilled to tiny little bits
  • Music: kings of convenience (the auditory equivalent of valium)

a year in a day/return of the prodigals

So I stayed up all night, not doing much (everything I tried to do felt like it was coming through fog -- eventually I gave up and watched videos) so I could get to the bridge and see up the sun without feeling like I'd woken up at 6am. Damian, more hardcore, opted to be woken up, and didn't even complain. The rain had gone and the sky was clean-scrubbed blue, sun beginning to yellow up the sky. At the bridge we were stopped; nominally open, the various crowd controllers (we counted proctors, police, river rescue, and at least one private security firm) had nonetheless decided that the bridge should be empty at 6am, so we milled irritably at the roundabout as the sun hit Magdalen tower and the choir struck up and it was spring. Five minutes later, the choir stopped singing and crowd control shrugged and let us onto the bridge. We drifted up, into the golden sunshine, let down, but what the hell, still a lovely morning and then, as soon as the bridge was full, the choir started up again, singing up the sun, and everybody standing in the golden sunshine above the green meadow, staring up at the shortbread-coloured tower, choir singing over the silence. Later. We loop past the people queueing for breakfast (half the pubs and restaurants in town open up for May morning) saying hello to friends and buy the first of the season's strawberries for breakfast.

By evening it was winter; The Winter's Tale, review tickets. The company doesn't like Daily Information and I get a snarl when I ask for a programme. Decide to give them a good review out of of spite (and despite several annoying performances). Me, I'm thrilled just to see it performed. It's Shakespear's special effects blockbuster, with actors aged 16 years halfway through, direct intervention by a god, a statue coming to life, and of course, "exit, pusued by a bear". Not that the company bothers with all this but ho hum. I'll not thwack them hence with distaffs.

After my year in a day, a crowd of returns and repeats and filling-in of missing parts; found it in me to complete my weekly strip, finally got back my first film from my Holga (thank you Dan!) and it's great (good picture of you, Ian!), NTL actually send us a correct bill, and, best of all, The Man from U.N.C.L.E is back, back, back! ... coming to Bravo next week. Who says wishes don't come true?

Now, just got that wittering, muttering, weird-smelling idiot who's singing along to her walkman to get rid of. Please? I really do need her to go now.
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