Busy bee

So-uh.... Wops...
Uni has been really busy lately with preparing for and doing assessments.
I had a weekend in London with Carina and Frank the 18-20th of October, met up with Aaron and we walked a lot. That was fun. Feet got fucking knackered, though. I'm an avid fan of sightseeing, but walking places can be a bit of a downer regarding that. We went to Platform 9 3/4, we saw the Parliament, unfortunately didn't go to see the Tower of London as the line was... "Massive" doesn't quite describe it.... However, we did catch a show of sorts outside it. That was cool. With canons and stuff.
We saw Charlie and the Chocolate factory - the musical (was good!) and went to a film museum. That was cool.

Going back to do more assessment preparations with Clown Lab which was a lot of fun. Very hectic and filled with very critical feedback, but very good. I really enjoyed that week and was invited to go to London to do another week with them. Which was incredible! I was insanely happy! I met some incredibly talented people, a hilarious lot, and got several pages in my notepad filled with games and exercises.
Score.

Then on out we had intensive bouffon rehearsal before the Great Reveal, or 'the performance' as some call it... It could have gone better, the performance, but good to get it over and done with. Then on to the next assessment, and next and next... It's safe to say that the Christmas holiday came in time this year. Before the waves of mental illnesses came wafting through the snow on a one horse open sleigh.

Anyway, came home and I found THIS beauty!

Looooooook at heeeeeer! I love that little bastard! So happy! Her name is Vitani and she makes me happy!
Such a cutie!

The Visit

Apart from the terribly plagiarised title from our first-year performance, this visit was actually good. Well, good is a strange way of describing a visit... Like it is a performance (Erving Goffman could argue it is... Oh God, what has this course done to me!?)... What I mean is this visit was EXCELLENT!
Trudi came over to Swansea! And she took it by storm!

(An alternative title to this is:
The travel (almost) diary of Maria. Having a Trudi-visit.
This is a long'un)

So Thursday (10th) came, the lovely Trud-meister came, I was late as ever (I really need to get my shit together on that. Jeez.), we walked up the dreaded Mount Pleasant hill... Well, I say walking... Trudi were walking, I was wheezing and partially unconscious.
We got back to the house anyway, she got unpacked, then got to meet Cira and showing her around the place. We went into town and had a bite to eat.

'Twas really nice. We have made many good decisions with rock-paper-scissors and a smidge of pure stubbornness... That happened more than I would care to admit... It's a great way of resolving things, though!
The next day Cira, Trudi and I were going to go to Mumbles but alas, the plan was thwarted by none-existing buses going there... I kinda wish we had walked as it is lovely at the beach when it's sunny, but I don't think the people coming were too keen on that. Sadly... But we got to finish our Thing 1 and Thing 2 costumes though for Catty's birthday and met up with Alan, Amy and Derek in town. Hannah joined us afterwards which was nice!







We went to a pub, the Bank Statement I think it was, and Trudi was very happy to see the price of the local  -erm- beverages. Very happy.
Let's say she got a little crazy about it.



<--- Best. Face. Ever.

When the night young the people in the bar were also relatively young, but when it got late... Let's just say "the night was young" didn't really apply for that place. They were old. It was Us and Them.
Them and Us.
They were dressing up like they were 40 years younger, we were drinking our sorrows away.
You know, the usual.
Nah, we had a lovely time, each taking turns on buying pitchers. Cheap things they were.
According to known sources, canines of the female variety loves cheap things, I hear. Must be true then, I suppose.


Fuck's sake. I can tell you right now that sorting pictures out on this diabolical page is a nightmare.
Moving on.
Turned out to be a fantastic night. I have pictures of the rest of the gang, but asking them feels a little awkward if I'm honest.

The Saturday we headed back into town.
We needed a couple of more things for our costumes that night.
Trudi has a way of entertaining herself that entertains everyone around her as well, which is lovely. Crazy kitten.
Love that girl!

There's no wonder she's mad though, as she gets up voluntarily at like 10 o'clock, even when she has her day off. Why, I will never understand. It's bound to make a person a little mad. But that's only a good thing, at least in this case.
On the way down we talked about our Thing characters, and decided to go for the sexy approach (play on words, sixty sounds like sexy in Norwegian (well she nailed it, I just looked like the village idiot. More on that later, however)... PUNS ARE GREAT!)

Then, onwards to Primark to finish our costumes... Oh dreaded Primark. It's like fish in a barrel in there. Or a really busy street in ...China!
Cira and I thought we lost Trudi in there, lost her to the chaos of what seems like millions, if not billions, of aisles, but luckily we spotted her by the not-very-subtly-coloured leggings. Such a blessed day. Primark decided to spare her life, and I will be forever grateful.
'Twas a day of rejoicing and happiness. Not only did we finish our costumes, but we got to get out of there alive. Sun (it was cloudy, I'm exaggerating) never felt sweeter on my pale, Primark-faded skin. Our eyes slowly adjusted to the brightness. We could finally breathe.
Breath happened.
Breath stopped.
Then it happened again. 
It was an amazing feeling. The security guard looked puzzled when he saw our (I assume Cira and Trudi felt the same) desperate faces... Possibly puzzled for actually getting out? Who knows. They are  working there, so they are probably in on it.

 As a treat for the horrors we had to endure, we got ourselves milkshakes. Sweet nectar of sanity-restoring .... stuff. Eddie's Rocket has the best.
Anyone claiming otherwise are wrong.



No, it's not up for discussion.

Trudi met her idol, Cira Done It Right With Pizazz. She got her autograph and a picture to prove it really was her. Cira was so smooth about it, flipping us off in the process with the classical V sign.
Her eyes glistened in the sun, and a sense of knowledge was to feel from her. Maybe she knew that by flipping us off Trudi would have a very awkward conversation when showing the picture to her grand-children and they ask "what the lady was doing!?". I suppose that would be a great way of showing rude body language to small children. Good on you, Cira Done It Right With Pizazz. Good on you.

So the night approached, we got ready whilst having a lot of fun, bantering, posing and a little bit of duck-faces happened.

Trudi had a wonderful moment where she forgot she was a person and started behaving like a chicken. It must have been the sleepless mornings getting to her. The outcome was hilarious though. 

 We quickly found out that the tights we (I, it was all my fault.) had hastily taken from Tesco were really rather small.... So that also invited some ridiculous moments of desperately trying to fit into them before realising that "actually, cutting them up and wearing them like socks, not that bad an idea".

That's not my pants (panties? LINGERIE!) you see there, by the way, I made sure the t-shirt was tucked nice and well into the way-too-small tights.
Just a disclaimer against emotional scarring, is all.







The parteh in pictures (without the other people, so it looked kinda lonely... It wasn't!). Started off getting ready in my room with music snacks and drinks, then to Catty's house and ended up in Reflex. Or whatever it's called now.

 Oh yes. Trudi was the sexy one ( Thing 61) and I were meant to be sexy too (Thing 62)! Was great fun. Stuffed our bras with socks and everything to get into the role properly. Haha, I felt like a sorry lout, being her sidekick, wanting just a little claim of fame. It was great fun.
It ended up in us going to the beach, her getting changed outside the Grand Theatre and having extremely, EXTREMELY annoying people following the group down, expecting to get laid, but walking off in a huff after being told off for being rude. (Not completely true, they stuck around for ages. Like leeches. Being depressing.
Pick-up tip #1: Don't be depressing.
Pick-up tip #2: Don't be rude.
Pick-up tip #3: Don't be annoying. Unless I've missed out on something, just talking to someone doesn't mean you're going to go home with them.... Don't be a dick.
OH! SOMEONE SAID I LOOKED 12 YEARS OLD! I am still not happy with that! Little shit.)

Next day started very late...
Sorry Trudi.
We stayed in talking, which was nice, then she treated us to a Cosmo (that mad mad Trudi. Thank you!) meal that lasted... Ridiculously long.

The table behind us had two different groups of people while we were there. I think we lasted two hours before heading back, where we collapsed on the sofas. 

Trudi knows how to make emotions come to life, that's for god damn sure. Haha, but she soon was up, being all "young", "alive" and "sporty". Broke the flag in the process too! Hah. "That's what happens when people try and move muscles after a big meal. - Confucius"

Action-shot of her flagging with her foot (sort of).  It was fucking fantastic. Nay, GLORIOUS! That's all I can say.

If you're still reading after all that banter, thanks for coming over Trudi, was really nice having you over. And I know for a fact that people were utterly charmed by your very charming self!
All hail the Trudi.
<3

:P

Letters for badguys.

I had a bit of a weird spout of weirdness on twitter last night, where I theorised about what the official (probably mostly restraining orders) letters of horror movie characters looked like, and wanted to expand on that because, as kids say these days, it was "hella fun".

Samara from The Ring's landlady:
"Samara dear, I've been receiving letters of complaints from other tenants saying the walls between their and your flat have severe water damage. If this is not sorted out, I will have to evict you. I locked myself in to assess the damage earlier, and it is simply not healthy living in such damp conditions, as it will end up covered in mould. I am rather curious as to how you managed to get it wet all the way to the TV though....
Sincerely,
Mrs. Higgins"

Jason's parole officer:
"Jason, we've received complaints from families visiting your camp, complaining of a terrible stench coming from your cabin and that you chase them with a machete. These are quite serious accusations, and I will need you to come by the station Monday morning for a testimony.
Sincerely,
Bobby Joe Doughman"

Jason's intervention letter:
"Jason, mate, this is very difficult for me to say, but you need to bury your mother. It's getting to the point now, where it's really awkward coming over and see her head on that shrine. Let her go, mate. She loves you, but you need to let her go to get on with your life. If you struggle to cope, you really should look into seeing a counsellor. It's for your own good.
-Jimmie"

Jeeper's Creepers dietarian:
"Jasper, I've had a look at your diet now, and I found alarming amounts of Hummin meat? Never heard of this before, but the amounts you eat can't be healthy. I suggest going on a vegetarian diet for two weeks before you ease back into eating meat. Your system needs a break. Please look at the attached recipes if you want to boost your immune system and get your metabolism going.
Thanks, see you Friday! Happy dieting!
Jenna"

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde's wife's hastily written note:
"Henry, you've changed.
-Martha"

Dracula's doctor:
"Lord Dracula, I've received the test result for your last bloodtest and I've received a very interesting result... Did you know you are closely related to my assistant Gina? You could positively be her twin. Very interesting. You also seem to have oral herpes and I have written a perscription for you. It should stop being infectious in 2-3 weeks.
Sincerely,
Doctor Hammond"

Dedicated to my hero.

8=======================D    ~o ~o ~o      {()}


Too right.

Somewhat titled

The thing about smartphones that I really really really hate is the fact that you can't just randomly send "Oh I really thought you were a decent person, but this!? Sending me this!? No... You are just a massive perv. How dare you!" to people.
Such a bummer that you can see what you sent previously. Or the conversation, if you will.
Sad face.

Anyway, I've been working on this really long blog post about serious stuff of seriousness for a long time, and I just can't bring myself to post it. So I decided to give that up and try and write something witty instead. As I am in that kind of mood.

Bring the thunder.

I wrote a short story that I would like to share.
Oh yes. This shit is happening yo.
WITH shitty paint-pictures.


OK here we go. It is called

"Pen-pal" (dramatic music)
The last sentence was carefully thought through before I jotted it down and sealed the envelope. The stamp was carefully placed in the right-hand corner and dropped into the letterbox. I smiled. I had never had a pen-pal before.

The days went by slowly while I were waiting for an answer. I was anxious to read the reply of what I thought to be a thought provoking letter.

A rainy day, particularly nasty, I felt the need to take a walk. There was no particular reason for this, but on rainy days I feel there is something particularly forbidden, almost, about being outside in heavy rain.
It turned out it was my stomach leading the way. I headed down to the local pub, thinking a pint would be a nice consolation price for the weather. There weren't many there, just the barman and another customer sitting in the corner. A flashback to the scene in The Lord of the Rings where Aragorn is introduced crosses my mind. I turn away, barely able to stifle my laughter at this, now, bit of a cliché scene.
I looked over at the strange man again, and felt like he were staring hard at me. I decided that the pint would be enjoyed regardless of how quickly I drank it.
So I did, slammed the money on the bar, saluted the barman and left.
Making sure the hood on my jacket was fully covering my head as I trotted along in the rain, I decided that I could do my shopping. Little did I know that the stranger from the bar were following me.
Filling my head with prospective song lyrics and humming to myself I went home to watch TV.
Not one of my most creative nights, I'll admit.
I was oblivious to the stranger outside, looking at me through my window, lurking, soaking wet.

Thunder rolled over the sky, like a a warm wool blanket over the world. I noticed how dark it suddenly had got. I turned off the TV and headed for bed, possibly less clever than before, and drifted to sleep.
The stranger outsid
e stood there, staring.
And I were sleeping. Unaware of my visitor.
A particularly loud thunder clap woke me up a couple of hours later and I decided that a glass of water would be brilliant right about now.

Outside the figure had vanished.

When I saw wet footprints on the floor, I became somewhat sceptical of my current situation. I put the glass down and quietly went into the kitchen to get a rolling pin.
Invigorated with a new sense of courage, I turned on the lights and saw that the footprints led to my bedroom.
The blood in my veins turned into ice as I went in, ready to strike.

But I never had the chance to strike. I fell to the floor and remained there.
They found me with a letter addressed to me in my hand.
No fingerprints but my own.

I guess I have learnt now, a little too late, that sending a letter to a belieber with obsessive-fanatic tendencies is a somewhat bad idea.

And whatever you do, DO NOT send the half-burnt stub of a ticket.