Stop sign in the garden

After a relatively blah day today comprising of a completely unfathomable dance lecture, a minor bit of work in the library and a nap, my mood was brightened considerably by the discovery of a large stop sign in the square bit of paving that substitutes as our front garden. Apparently it's been there ages and I hadn't noticed. I believe the procuring of this item probably falls under the headings of 'theft' and 'mindless vandalism', but you haven't been a proper student until you own your very own road sign. So high fives to Doodle and Ballygirl for that.

I was on my way to the first musical rehearsal of the year when I chanced upon this fine thing. Good to meet the new cast, especially as most of them are new faces - the only people who are in it for the third year running are me and Hose, who is choreographing, although we're not entirely sure if this is really cool or deeply sad (we're giving it the benefit of the doubt and going with incredibly cool for now). It feels like we've hardly finished last year's musical, even though that ended in March... stuff seems to go by so quick at uni. I'm well aware that next week's deadline will creep up on me and then suddenly jump out and say "boo!" and I'll shit myself because I'll have done no work, then, quite surprisingly, it'll be Christmas and I'll desperately be ploughing through next semester's reading lists. Although at least I'll be doing it on the beach in St Lucia... yes, my fabulously generous parents are taking myself and my little sister to the Caribbean for some sun. It's not actually that I'm a spoilt brat; mum and dad couldn't go on their holiday over summer because dad acquired a sporting injury which then got infected so they couldn't fly. And mum, who lived in the Caribbean for a bit in the 80s, can't survive more than a couple of years without some HEAT. So I shall be reading Villette on a sun lounger under a palm tree with a rum cocktail, and I can't bloody wait.

Anywho, I digress. Although what from I'm not entirely sure. I really do just tend to ramble on about just about anything on here... it's quite therapeutic actually, but there's no way I'm calling it a diary or journal. My diary when I was a teenager is so full of shit it's unreal, it gives no hint as to what I was really like - just rambles on about this guy and that guy and the usual adolescent bullshit that no-one really cares about. Meh. No time for it. If I chose to discuss my romantic life on here I'd go on for pages, whinging and moaning and generally embarrassing myself so I won't.

Talking of musicals, now I really wanna go and see another one. I saw Wicked a couple of weeks ago, which was fabulous but not quite worth all the fuss it seems to generate (I realise I might find a lynch mob outside my house after that comment, but what can you do). It has NOTHING on Les Miserables, which made me cry tears of joy that such amazing things exist in this world; as did Phantom... I've literally never come across such amazing orchestration, and whilst I will admit that Andrew Lloyd Webber is quite weird, I really can't have people tell me his music is rubbish. OH MY GOD NO. A trip to Leicester Square box office may be in order...

I may continue this subject tomorrow, it's definitely bedtime (once I've finished my wine). Night all...