This has always been a very special date to me. A mix of events, I suppose. It's the birthday of Michael Palin, the man who indirectly made me an anglophile. Three years later, in 1992, I became a fan of William Hurt's on this date. A year ago, just past midnight so technically May the fifth, I met Philip Quast for the first time. Not "met" as in "how are you," more like "gnnhyh...uhmm...err..." But still. He was there, so was I, that's all that counts. :-) He'd just given me goosebumps from singing "Stars" from Les Misérables (I don't care what you may think; I still think he's the ultimate Javert) AND I'd just heard Tommy Körberg doing "Anthem" from Chess - basically, I was in heaven. So May 5 is a special date to me. I was hoping today was going to be another May 5 to remember, but alas. We went to see Van Helsing (which I believe was the world premiére) and it was an ok film, elevated because of Richard Roxburgh and Huge Jackson Hugh Jackman (and Alun Armstrong, but he wasn't in it for long). The comic relief of the film was David Wenham as a monk friar, although we suspected the whole film to be a farce at one point. Sadly, it wasn't. If it had been, I'd've given it a better rating at IMDb. ;-) Anyway, the actors were doing their best and the special effects weren't half bad; some of them were even outright brilliant, but the ones that were crap ruined the film for me. Oh, and did I mention the story was a wee bit weak? *rolls her eyes* Oh well, I soon learned to sit still and get into the film, so it was quite entertaining for a long while. Definitely not the worst film I've ever seen, but they could have done better, for instance by editing it down another twenty minutes or so.

Apart from that, work is a near-hell-experience these days and has been for months now, coincidentally starting at around the same time my boss finally lost it completely. I swear I'm not lying when I tell you he's in need of some serious therapy. And a shower. But there's no hope. I'm amazed I've lasted this long. I think about quitting three times a week but I haven't done it yet. I bet you he doesn't think I will. He'll have a heart attack when I eventually do. I'm hanging in there, though. No choice, unfortunately; I've got a mortgage, a student loan, a credit card and several bills to pay. All the while he's sitting there on his millions; he'll probably die of tightfistedness and a lack of friends.

Why I didn't apply and audition for drama school at some point, I don't know. I'm not saying it would have helped me paying the mortgage, far from it, but at least I would have been looking forward to going to work every day (after graduation, naturally).

I'm not in a bad mood, though. Just venting. And WHY do I always end up sitting next to someone who uses snuff when going to the cinema? What did I do wrong to deserve that? For one, it stinks. It looks really, REALLY stupid and they just don't get it. AND it's very damaging to one's health, but of course they're young and nothing bad will ever happen to them and yadiyadiyada. (I'm a reformed smoker, by the way, I know how hard it can be to kick the habit. I also know what a relief it is when you finally do.)

Current track: Bill Medley & Jennifer Warnes - (I've Had) The Time of My Life

Labels: film, Javert, michael palin, personal, philip quast, richard roxburgh, theatre, william hurt