mockturtle (hellblazer06) wrote,

beautiful people everywhere, the way they show they care

Supposed to be going out tonight but it's been cancelled (wail!!!) but maybe that's a good thing, as I was pretty rubbish yesterday (did angry ironing and cranky watering, annoyed washing up and ill-tempered sweeping, amongst other minor chores).

So, Monday. Went to see Optimism down at the Opera House, and it was lovely down at the quay and I had a bit of a walk around before settling down with a book and a glass of rather sub-standard wine (for the region, grape and price) while I waited for the doors to open. Okay, it was indeed the bastard child of Split Enz and Voltaire (see The Age), and further proof that Australian theatre has less chance of ever getting itself out of the early 80s than Alex Drake, for all that, I kinda loved it.

It was based on Candide which I'd read at school and was quite sure I'd forgotten but I hadn't really, it was just that, being such a stupid child at the time, I just didn't get it. Still stupid, but thoroughly jaded too now, so I get that, and the middle class hand wringing or idiot philosophies just seem more prevalent now than then, at least in my orbit.

There was the slave, pointing out the human cost of a little sugar in one's tea, which brought to mind all the recent empty celebrity hand wringing (and does one need to feel such guilt if one doesn't take sugar in one's tea?). Anyways, valid points and points also for raising the issue in the 1750s, Mr Voltaire.

There was also a discussion on God turning his back on the world, and while he has made a perfect machine, it has run down and become broken, which made me realise at least where SPN S4 and S5 are coming from, philosophy-wise. Ditto Pangloss's insistance that if evil exists, it must be for the best (illustrated with syphillis and chocolate, no less).

Anyway, it made me think, said some things I nodded to and was hugely entertaining and the songs included delighted (and cemented the 80s-ness of the whole thing). I was particularly taken with their version of "I Could Be Happy", which has been my anthem this last year (and more so this last week), screamed on river banks amid the buzzing bumble bees: "All of these things I do, to GET AWAY FROM YOU!"

Apres show, which I really did enjoy very much, I walked out and there was the inky black harbour and the bridge and the last ferries coming in and Luna Park all lit up across the water and, well, okay, on a par with a summer's night at the Globe and walking back with St Paul's filling my view. All that was missing was ice cream (I love the way the Brits have ice cream at the theatre) and lo, Baskins was still open so I got a scoop of pecan in a paper cup and sat and watched the water and city as I savoured. Now that felt like a holiday outing. Just me, ambling, enjoying myself.

Oh dear, it's 11.30 am and the nerds have finally got the systems going after an unfortunate series of updates (hence the musing here as I've only had notepad available in sporadic fashion).

It's now 2pm and the day has been going from bad to worse, with large parts devoted to microsoft misery (including a wasted walk uptown to a shop which did not have the needed software despite the website saying it did) and office politics that make Thick Of It seem like a children's birthday party. I think I need to go home and wallow in Chuck and tell myself no matter how bad things get they can't be worse than the Buy wait, they're worse, much worse. Sigh. Dear Chuck, the show that tries to prove that even nerds have hearts and dreams. If you prick us, do we not bleed?

Tried shopping for a new top to cheer myself up. That was a mistake. And I don't know why I was thinking upon it, aside from perhaps musing that my life would serve as a cautionary tale to others, but I got stuck on an old boyfriend, pretty much the last ever boyfriend, and yeah, it was never gonna last cause he was way out of my league, like seriously Matt Bomer outta my league (and probably Matt Bomer everything else if my track record is anything to go by, not that we ever got up to that revelation) and really, I should be over it now, dearie, but I guess there was just something in the cruel and/or hilariously tacky (depending on whether one was the observer or the observed) way he dumped me that still has me grinding my teeth. Oh well. I'll try not to rehash my bad boyfriend issues in my fic, again, but no promises.

But it does bring me back to one of the songs they used in Optimism. Everything is for the best?



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