3am.

It’s been a while since I’ve written in the middle of the night. Possibly not since first year in fact. Then, of course, it was as a form of procrastination from various essay writing. And as a distraction from the distressing fact that I was a terrible fresher who spent nights in with her housemates playing cards and drinking coffee rather than going out and destroying her liver.

Now, however, it’s because my mind’s decided that it’s enjoying it’s new found creativity and doesn’t really fancy switching off. This week I’ve got giddy about theatre and recorded songs in my bedroom because I haven’t had anything better to do. It’s been massively enjoyable.

It’s strange actually, how suddenly having something creative to latch my mind on to has pulled me straight out of the depressed-anti-climactic-funk that I’ve been coasting since handing in dissertations. It’s like I zoned out for a couple of weeks whilst my mind dealt with the stupid amount of words that it had decided upon using. And then, having helped out on a pretty fantastic Sondheim revue – “Putting It Together” – I realised that I needed more theatre in my life, and decided to make it happen. Weird, how a little motivation and direction can get you back on the happy train.

Admittedly I’m still a poor, struggling student (at the very least until I graduate next month), but at least I’m a happy and inspired, poor, struggling student. Little things really.

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Sometimes, only sometimes, I’m proud of things I do..

So, I maybe said a while back that I’m in an a capella choir. I say maybe, because I no longer remember most things I’ve said in done in the recent past – my mind is currently filled with the pretentious, aesthetically-pleasing mind of a drama-student-on-the-edge – so really I could’ve said I was a fish and I doubt I’d remember..

Anyway, I’m in this choir. And we sing occasionally. Last week was no exception, (actually that’s a lie, it was a massive exception because we actually got up on stage in pretty dresses – and suits) we sang our little hearts out. And we’re on the internet. It’s crazy.

Check it.. It’s fairly unexciting to begin with, but watch from 7.55 and we’ll embrace you with our vocal chords. Or something.

I’m the one in the really ridiculous (albeit insanely beautiful) shoes.

Just because we can..

So, there comes a time when you actually get around to doing something you should have done long ago. In my case (well, today at least) this is using Garage Band for the intent it was designed, ie. actually recording something worth while. Obviously, the perfect time for doing this is after a day of rehearsals (in the brother’s case), or painting faces and stressing over future house (in mine).. (Note: future house, faces and rehearsals are sorted/went swell respectively. Fantastic..) Of course the best time for recording isn’t in the middle of a chilled out day full of hot water and lemon. Nah..

It’s badly recorded (I’m only human after all), and if you really wack the volume up my voice will probably engulf you, but have a listen. Myself (vocals) and the brother (vocals and guitar) playing ‘Anyone Else But You‘ by The Moldy Peaches..

(You have *no* idea how long it took me to work this out. But, and it’s a big but, I did it all myself. Go me and my lack of technophobia.. Awesome)

Singing assassins? Seriously? Huh..

Every now and then (okay, so it’s pretty damn often) I see something that reminds me of everything there is to love about the theatre. The space, the intensity of choreography, the key to crucial casting and of course, the performance itself. I’m pretty sure the last time I came away *so* fired up and inspired by a piece of theatre, was after a one man performance of The Odyssey. Which was, outstandingly fantastic. Tonight’s performance however? Well that was a whole other kettle of fish.

Directed and choreographed by Michael Strassen, Assassins tells the story of 8 attempted, failed and successful assassinations of US Presidents. Not only was the show incredibly staged and performed, the accompanying music was phenomenal, allowing several (if not *all*) of the actors to flaunt beautiful voices. The cramped conditions of the theatre provided perfect acoustics for little-to-no voice amplification (microphones to you and me), as well as creating an intense atmosphere that rose and fell with the pace of the plots.

I definitely recommend everyone goes to see it. Not only do you come away with a relatively decent understanding of the assassinations (Hell, it pains me to say it but my History knowledge isn’t fab, I couldn’t have told you over half of the stories before tonight), but the show’s actually fantastic. And the songs aren’t your stereotypical show tunes. They hold a darker, more underlying sinister tone, similar to those of Sweeney Todd (It was after-all written by the same bloke), as well as sounding softly operatic in places. Even if you aren’t an avid theatre fan, or despise musical theatre, Assassins is a fantastic show, and enjoyably educational as well.

*Check me out being all clever writing-y. Hells yeah..*

In other news:

– This week has been culturally enriching (yes, I’m on a roll) what with the circus and the theatre (twice). Fan-bloody-tastic. Circus boys still win on the looks front, whilst The Tempest was definitely way up there in terms of concept and ‘different’ staging. I’d never imagined Shakespeare set in a futuristic time and place. The word quirky doesn’t quite begin to describe it. And finally Assassins was a fantastic end to the week.. Containing both beautiful staging and performances to inspire a drama geek such as myself to spend half the night plotting away..

– The hair colour ran away again. Or rather, I chased it with a bottle of funky smelling goo. Yay red hair. Well, super dark reddish-purple straw would be a more accurate description. Minor detail..

– I start painting people’s faces again as of tomorrow! A *big* squee I believe is in order. The brother’s school is performing Oliver, and I’m involved in make-up-ing. Excellent. I get to attack people with paintbrushes and eye-liner. Aha! I’m such a child sometimes (all the time)..

I should really learn not to write here when I’m sleepy. My brain is even more fuzzled than normal..

Why is it that at the one moment you look rougher than hell, the world and his dog seem to end up your house?! It sucks. Mega like.

Bear with me. I had four hours sleep last night. On a floor. Two of my housemates genius-ly fell asleep in my bed last night, forcing me to snooze on the hard, stone-like surface that is our carpet. I was not impressed. Funny that..

So needless to say I’ve spent the majority of today in a super grump. Well, maybe not a grump as such, but more a ‘get-on-the-wrong-side-of-me-and-your-knee-caps-will-wander-off-probably-with-the-aid-of-a-spoon’. And am currently sat here in major zombie mode while the rest of my house are huddled around a tv playing Fifa 09. Funnily enough I’m actually alright with my zombie-ness.. Even caffeine won’t force me to sit there and stare at football. Gimme rugby any day. Hells yes..

To be fair though, today hasn’t sucked all that much. I’ve written several mammoth emails. Had a good cry. Eaten an extortionate amount of biscuits. Played cards for 3 1/2 hours (it’s so damn addictive!). Oh, and watched another 2 episodes of Glee. Yes, I’ve started again. What can I say I’m a major Gleek head. I mean seriously, I’m obsessed.. My house don’t really know what to do with me. And I can’t stop singing the damn songs.. I mean I sing non-stop always anyway (: but the addition of showtunes is clearly grating on them. Oops, my bad..

Aha, this sentence actually just left the fashion-queen-housemate’s mouth ‘actually go to bed Jess. Don’t just stay up until 2 like you normally do, please?!‘ Bless her.. I did kind of say I was going to bed an hour ago.. Hmm. The vampire issue is back. As in I don’t sleep, not that I sneak into people’s rooms and drink their blood. That would just be odd. And kinda disgusting if we’re gonna be honest..

Hmm, so, bed, yes, plan. Oh dear.. The hair is going to rival Amy Winehouse’s in the morning. Bollocks.