TicketMaster, you are the best fuck-up EVER. Never change, bb.
But that was that, so I headed off tonight and I got there and gave them my ticket, and the guy goes "The balcony's closed tonight, so go over to that girl and she'll tell you where to sit." And I'm all "what the what now?" I of course bought the crappy seat ticket because I'm cheap and I'm saving money for break and the stage door is still there no matter where you sit and blah-blah, but no. They ended up putting me, like, on the floor. I was in Row 'O,' and 'A' was, like, an inch in front of the stage. IT WAS AWESOME. And if I'd gone in May, I doubt that would have happened. So it was totes meant to be and I love TicketMaster for being a spazzy fuck-up so, so much. *hugs it*
The play was actually pretty good--I read it in high school and I didn't really like it, but I didn't care because hi, Top 10 List. But I enjoyed it; I think it's one of those things that's better performed than on the page. The dialogue bugs me, but the actors did a pretty good job of naturalizing it and they interacted pretty well and I was impressed. And I really, really, really enjoyed the scene where he was in his shirtsleeves, a la the letter-writing scene in Atonement, and he ran into the 'rain' and got all wet and my brain was just like "OM NOM NOM NOM" because he is a sexy, sexy man. :9
And then I of course skipped out to the stage door and just stood there literally shaking and waiting, and I was RIGHT UP by the door because I'm speedy and excellent, and then he came out and he's all "hellooo" and it was cute, and I kind of breathlessly said "I think you're just brilliant" and he said "Oh, thank you, that's very nice" or something like it and signed my program [for which, incidentally, they charged me £3; it's not like in NYC where you just get a playbill. Sneaky fuckers] and I tried very hard not to squee. And I tried to move back so other people could get stuff signed or take a photo, but people had closed in behind me and I actually couldn't get out, so I was like 'well, shit, fine with me, I will stay right here.'
He was very sweet, signing for lots of people and chatting with them (some girl said she'd worked with the same director previously and he talked to her about that, etc), and he was still really close to me and I wanted to say something so I just blurted out "I'm going to Glasgow in two weeks!" Sheesh. But he was like "oh, really?" and then someone else said something and he talked to them, but then he turned back to me and said "why are you going there?" and I said "oh, just spring break...Dublin too" because YEAH HE REALLY CARES ABOUT MY LIFE WTF SHUT UP, but he just smiled and said "they're both really great cities" and I said "yeah, I'm really excited," and he was all cute and I basically died.
(Like with Dan, I apologized for taking it right in his face, because I am a freak and seriously think I can get these people to be my friend if I am polite, but he was very gracious.)
And what did I hear as I skipped across Piccadilly Square, clutching my program and giggling to myself like a schoolgirl? That's right, bagpipes. Some dude in a kilt was playing them on corner. The sound I loathe most in the world, the Dying Cat Parade--and yet, at the time, it was the loveliest sound in the world to me. SCOTLAND FOREVAH! ♥~
And that is my tale. Happy b-day to me, again! :D (And now, to watch "Lost." And get a cookie.)
giddy50 don't do sadness | whisper some silver reply
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