Blink.

I'm going to the theatre.

I don't think it's quite sunk in. I'm going to the theatre to see the show of my dreams. The Lion King.

Now, before anyone rolls their eyes and snarts snorting, let me say that I was in grad school working towards a degree in costume design when this show went up for the first time and I first heard the name Julie Taymor. My teacher showed us a film of her early work, back when she was still doing puppetry, and I fell in love. Then I started seeing production stills from the show, and I just flipped. I had never before seen costumes taken to such a degree. She mixed in Chinese puppetry techniques, ideas from her time in Indonesia, bits of art I'd never even imagined. I said right then and there I wanted to be Julie Taymor when I grew up.

Okay, so that hasn't exactly happened. But I AM opening my own shop for the summer, so hey, she must've helped some, right? And now, at long last, I'm going to the show! SQUEEEE! I absolutely cannot wait. The giraffes alone send me into ecstacies. And the grasslands? The gazelles? The hyaenas? Oh, I'm swooning!

July 8th at 8pm at the Kimmell. I don't know how I'll wait that long.

SQUEEEEEEEEEE!

Oh, but wait! THERE'S MORE!

For the first time since 1987, I am completely without credit card debt.

Oh, yeah. It's SO time to party.





Or...it would be if I hadn't spent today haemorraging money.




And in other news-- ironically-- it FINALLY occured to me that instead of mooning about how I'd love to be near my old Londinium haunts, I should just try to book at the hotel that stands now where I used to live: The Gainsborough. I could even see if I could get my old room.

Took me long enough to figure THAT part out. But again, it all comes down to money.