People Will See Me and Cry
May. 9th, 2007 10:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rinueI forgot to mention that I ran out of pages in my composition book and have started a new composition book, and instead of being white and black, it's white and red. I am off the hook these days.
Monday being a bank holiday, I tramped up to a May Day celebration at Kentish Town City Farm, and there were chickens and ducks and geese and a turkey and sheep and goats and ponies and giant sleeping pigs. I got my idea of what farms are like from watching shows like All Creatures Great and Small, so I find it deeply satisfying to be around people in tweed jackets and wellies, holding animals. And there were baby goats! Oh, how I want goats. Goats and beautiful chickens.
As part of the festivities, a man dressed in leaves played bagpipe tunes while children who didn't really understand how a maypole works ran around and got tangled up. This was enjoyed so much by the children that it had to be repeated two or three times.
While walking up to the farm, there was a short but brutal burst of rain, so I ducked into the nearest pub, The Enterprise. As luck would have it, it's the best pub I've ever been to; it's exactly the sort of place I'd like to hang out every night. (It's slightly too far away to make this convenient, unfortunately.) It's all windows and wood and old theater posters and shelves of books, with giant trestle tables and mismatched stools and a fairly indifferent bar staff. (I like an indifferent bar staff. I'm a bit put off if they're friendly, and feel that somehow I've made a mess of things.)
At one point, I started to get annoyed that a BLT I'd ordered was taking so long, but when it arrived, all criticism revealed itself as pale and naive. It was practically a whole loaf of bread with mixed greens, fresh tomatoes, and a substantial slab of Irish bacon (this being a decidedly Irish pub, with theater posters from Irish playwrites and shelves of books by Irish authors). Full marks, The Enterprise. I shall darken your door again.
During the course of all this walking, I managed to destroy my feet again, or at least my right foot. About a third of its lower surface area is a single huge blister, which I have decided to ignore.
Monday evening, I had dinner with Mark and Genell Kelso, who are in town for a week or so. They're a couple of retired literature professors I know from working on the musical Little Old Dallas (unless you were in it, you've never heard of it), and they're pretty awesome. Hanging out with them is kind of like hanging out with your grandparents if your grandparents were tap-dancing globetrotters you regularly invited to raucous parties. So we had some beers and talked about Genell's new musical and what's up in the Dallas film scene, and went to see a preview show of Fame: The Musical. It's pretty terrible, but the male lead is great, and I got a kick out of watching Brits play New Yorkers (especially since some of them seemed to forget they were supposed to).
Otherwise, I've mainly been doing the school thing, and not getting as much sleep as I'd like thanks to a particular roommate's love of snooze alarms.
Monday being a bank holiday, I tramped up to a May Day celebration at Kentish Town City Farm, and there were chickens and ducks and geese and a turkey and sheep and goats and ponies and giant sleeping pigs. I got my idea of what farms are like from watching shows like All Creatures Great and Small, so I find it deeply satisfying to be around people in tweed jackets and wellies, holding animals. And there were baby goats! Oh, how I want goats. Goats and beautiful chickens.
As part of the festivities, a man dressed in leaves played bagpipe tunes while children who didn't really understand how a maypole works ran around and got tangled up. This was enjoyed so much by the children that it had to be repeated two or three times.
While walking up to the farm, there was a short but brutal burst of rain, so I ducked into the nearest pub, The Enterprise. As luck would have it, it's the best pub I've ever been to; it's exactly the sort of place I'd like to hang out every night. (It's slightly too far away to make this convenient, unfortunately.) It's all windows and wood and old theater posters and shelves of books, with giant trestle tables and mismatched stools and a fairly indifferent bar staff. (I like an indifferent bar staff. I'm a bit put off if they're friendly, and feel that somehow I've made a mess of things.)
At one point, I started to get annoyed that a BLT I'd ordered was taking so long, but when it arrived, all criticism revealed itself as pale and naive. It was practically a whole loaf of bread with mixed greens, fresh tomatoes, and a substantial slab of Irish bacon (this being a decidedly Irish pub, with theater posters from Irish playwrites and shelves of books by Irish authors). Full marks, The Enterprise. I shall darken your door again.
During the course of all this walking, I managed to destroy my feet again, or at least my right foot. About a third of its lower surface area is a single huge blister, which I have decided to ignore.
Monday evening, I had dinner with Mark and Genell Kelso, who are in town for a week or so. They're a couple of retired literature professors I know from working on the musical Little Old Dallas (unless you were in it, you've never heard of it), and they're pretty awesome. Hanging out with them is kind of like hanging out with your grandparents if your grandparents were tap-dancing globetrotters you regularly invited to raucous parties. So we had some beers and talked about Genell's new musical and what's up in the Dallas film scene, and went to see a preview show of Fame: The Musical. It's pretty terrible, but the male lead is great, and I got a kick out of watching Brits play New Yorkers (especially since some of them seemed to forget they were supposed to).
Otherwise, I've mainly been doing the school thing, and not getting as much sleep as I'd like thanks to a particular roommate's love of snooze alarms.
