Far too clean and respectable, i thought, not enough children running with tears in their eyes back to their mummys asking why the rocks were bleeding, i thought. Gotta bloody the place up a bit, i thought, so i went swimming on my last day in Norway, stepped on some insecure shingle and had my foot dropped down onto something unmistakably sharp. Perhaps glass, or an overambitious shell, but whatever it was it cut deep and nasty and neccessitated many following hours of hilarious shame as i was bodily carried back to the car by my friends parents. Now i'm back home out of sight of their sneaky eyes ("don't put any weight on that foot!" they'd collectively scream) i can gallop gleefully about the house on the toes of my left foot, as the damage was limited to the middle and heel. It's gaping and hurting rather, because i missed the window for stitches, but i'm galloping anyway because it's fun and it irritates my mum.
( see here for my amazingly fake blood & KITTENS! )

The week's holiday on that small island in Norway where i intend to live one day was, apart from that last minute puncture, a wonderful relaxing break with my friends. I have none here, so to talk to someone other than my parents (fantastic thought they be) for a bit was pure heaven. I am back and feeling so much more human for it.

I managed to do a whole helluva of a load of nothing while i was there, so i am posting the Miami Vice icons i have now, for those who wanted them to use them. Feel free to yoink any and all, just credit me in userinfo or i'll rip your arms off and use them as throwing sticks for my pet penguin.( tasty little eighties squares )

I just had a lovely driving lesson during which i didn't crash the car (reSULT!) and am about to wrap my foot in a plastic bag and have a shower (sounds like some kind of a ritual. maybe it'll catch on). Then i shall go to bed and snarl gleefully at the tv screen as Rick Hunter goes about being all Clint Eastwoody, shooting felons and rescueing damsels in distress with the odd tacky catchphrase while his partner DeeDee McCall wears spandex and is all female-empowered. Ahhh, the good old days.

Tags: hunter, icons, miami vice, norway, photography
feeling: relaxed, tired but happy
hearing: nada. must put some on.

So, the play. I went to London to see Val Kilmer in The Postman Always Calls Twice at The Playhouse. I really enjoyed it, for plenty of different reasons. Some respectable reasons, some reasons you wouldn't share with your grandma. Not that i know what you talk to your grandma about... she might be a dirty grandma. How the hell would i know? On a respectable note, Val's acting was wonderful as usual, instead of acting he simply took on the character and walked onto the stage doing what that character would do. The charaterisations were quite good too, the summaries say Val's character Frank is the murderous one, but it is plainly the other way around. The dynamic of the couple (they were having an affair) were that of an adolescent and lustful boy and a (unknowingly) manipulative mother figure.
On an unrespectable note, i had a hard time not throwing myself over the balcony into his arms when, halfway through the play, his character got well and truly whumped. Limping for 50% of the play... and occassionally speaking his lines while staring right into my eyes... i sincerely have never been closer to fangirl behaviour than i was during that play. There was also the fantastically shocking love scene. He threw himself at her, ripped her shirt open while she screamed for him to stop, dumped her on the floor and shoved his face in her crotch whilst they were scooting bodily across the stage. You could hear him heaving great big gulping breaths down there! I don't think i've seen a sex scene quite as hilarious. I'm surprised they didn't have stunt doubles doing it, they were all over the place. It was great.
I also really enjoyed spending time with nomorefrostbite who managed to convert me to Alias Sark-love in one night. Holy nuts, that's fast work.

Anyhow, i could talk on the trip and play for ages, but i don't really feel like it. Instead, i shall post photos from the last week or so. I found the frog last night, when i suddenly realised i had forgotten to topup the pond and discovered that i have apparantly killed the one plant my parents left in my care. Bollollocks.

( the frogs and the bees (that's confused sexuality for you) )
I'm tanned and my skin smells of the sun, i've spent all day in the garden answering comments and emails on my laptop, and now i'm off to light the fire and think about dinner (i'm not actually going to do anything about it, i'll just think about it for a bit and then go to bed).
grr.

Tags: photography, theatre, val kilmer, whumping
feeling: pleasantly tired
hearing: poe - haunted