Long, long, long day.

In a move quite uncharacteristic of me, I watched two, count ’em, two films on DVD yesterday: Weirder than Invention and Relentless D and the Plectrum of Fate (okay, I rewrote the titles, but I have a thing about search engines). The former was rented the evening before but I arrived home mid-movie and was unwilling to watch it without having seen the beginning. Hubby convinced me I should see it before it was to be returned, so I did, and am glad to have done so. It was really very fine. I recommend it. Emma Th0mps0n was fabulous, as she is wont to be, and Dustin H0ffman was splendiferous as well. The other two leads did a good job, WiII FerreII of course playing someone totally oblivious to the world around him as only he can.

The second film, reserved ahead of time, was supposed to be ready for us when we dropped off the first, but we were finally able to pick it up after our daughter’s band played a set at the Java for a Green party. In this town, everything is literally across the street from everything else, so it wasn’t a big deal to nip into the video store and see if the reserved film was finally in, which it was. So we watched it, and it was totally insane, as only a Jack BIack film can be, verging on total inanity, but somehow avoiding it because of the sincerity of the main actors. I was suprised to see that Ben StiIIer had directed it. But of course. It made perfect sense.

However, I had the headache from hell yesterday. I took a couple or three aspirins before going out to my dance rehearsal in the afternoon, but the pain was back in full force and didn’t subside until unconsciousness claimed me sometime around midnight. This morning my daughter somehow cajoled me into giving her a lift to the French university where some science fair was taking place (it turned out to be a high school fair and she was very bored), which meant I had to miss out on skating, as my choir rehearsal was called for 1 p.m.

It was long. Very long. We went through the whole programme, and revealed some of the small group numbers to the rest of the ensemble. Our quartet from Kismet was rather strange. I forgot about the time signature changing from three-four to four-four and totally screwed up the rhythm, although my solo two pages at the end went without a hitch. The two guys were stealing the show from us just with facial expressions. All my partner and I can do is sing pretty, I guess.

Then, the day not yet over, I had to rush into the city for a belly dancing rehearsal at 6 p.m., but we didn’t actually start until a half-hour later because two of our number had gotten the time wrong. We nailed down the rest of the choreography, which I must practise or I will never get right, even though there are three months till the show, and finally was released to come home and fix myself something to eat.

It’s too early, but I’m tempted to crawl into bed right now.

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