Owowowowow inexplicable cramps ow.
So I applied for a job on Friday. It was an editorial position in a society I'm only marginally connected to, area-of-expertise wise, and I don't think I'll get it, what with having to write my thesis and shit. But it's good to get into job seeking and cover letter writing practice, innit?Went home early on Friday on account of being so tired my motor reflexes thought I was drunk. Spent Saturday morning cleaning the communal parts of the flat, and Saturday afternoon shopping with steely_glint
The English National Opera were holding a costumes sale, and we'd planned on going for a while - it's the kind of thing that gets talked about how cool it would be to go, but then no one else goes - this was the reasoning Sam was giving me for hoping that they'd still have some good stuff, even though we left at about one, and it had been open at nine. It was in Limehouse, which is one of those places I'm ashamed to admit to never having been there before. But it is
East of Whitechapel, and therefore not the kind of place to which gentlefolk
would venture after dark without a revolver. Luckily this was Saturday afternoon, but I'm much more your North West London than South East, and therefore kept a keen eye on my taxi handbag.
Also, we got to ride the DLR, which is one of these new-fangled driverless
railway trains that goes overground
, so if you're sitting at the front, as I insisted we do, you can see the views of the Docklands ahead of you. The Docklands being one of those sights only a tourist could love, but I was distracted anyway by Sam's tales of all the marvellous costumes we'd be walking away with. I'm strapped by being a fundless grad student, as you well know, but I was looking forward to dressing him up as a notorious pirate, and seeing if maybe they had a sexy piratical coat that I'd just have
to buy. And we talked for so long about all the hats and wigs we were going to try out that I was convinced I could persuade him to buy me a tricorne - or maybe even a chevalier
- as a belated birthday present. And my wardrobe would finally be complete!
It's possible, possible
, we got a bit carried away by this. Or just a sad fact that when it comes to costume sales run by premier opera companies, noon-rising metallers will always
be beaten to the punch by the wardrobe mistress of minor/amateur theatre companies who queue up at dawn with the measurements for each cast member in this season's production of Romeo and Juliet
, the time and place for which will be decided by what the ENO has in its costume change.
So it's probably fair to say we were disappointed. Still, I got a belt long enough to serve as a bandoleer for a quid. That combined with the general fresh air is probably worth it anyway.
Quick stop at Chinatown for Die Schwester's birthday present (sadly perhaps too cheap to be the entire present), then on to Forbidden Planet, where despite temptation
neither of us spent a penny. Which was nice.
Came home, transcribed scenes for RP, slept, cleaned up cat diarrhoea and misplaced cat piss, emptied the playing up-washing machine, then spent Sunday making a fanvid, cause I'm like that.
Sunday night brought on a near panic attack by way of an email from the supervisor. But I read it today and we had a long chat, and actually, I'm doing fine and he says I write well. Which is nice.