Today was a psychotically busy awesome crazy totally awesome day.

Was up way early, after really not enough sleep at all, to head out to Stratford and the Stratford Shakespeare Festival to see the closing performance of Macbeth. Reason I had to do this urgently? It's Colm Feore as Macbeth and Geraint Wyn Davies as Duncan. Yes! Pierre Trudeau murders Nick Knight* for the throne of Scotland! How could I not see this?

It was a little more of the declamation style of doing Shakespeare than the naturalistic style, which I prefer, but the change of era/setting worked: they did it in a 1960s sort of Central African setting rather than the medieval Scotland. I wasn't sure about this initially. But it really, really served the text well, and illuminated some things about said text for me that I hadn't actually fully realized before, so I'm thinking that move was a total success. The staging wasn't that interesting in the first half (went up to about Banquo's ghost at the banquet) but they did some things with quick changes, wardrobe choices, flitting back and forth between places/times while retaining actors onstage, lighting, and establishing place with four flatscreen TVs mounted on the pillars of the stage, with various scenery or stuff on them, that really made the stage design a totally active part of the experience in the second half; something that really informed the production.

Also, the guy who played Macduff brought me to tears in the good way. And the guy who played the Porter was freaking hilarious. Hats off.

From there, made it home at 6:30 or so feeling tired, a bit travel-smelly, and with ultimate low blood sugar. After eating and shower, I wasn't sure if I was actually going to make it out for Halloween tonight, but [livejournal.com profile] ksumnersmith, [livejournal.com profile] dolphin__girl, and [livejournal.com profile] cszego persuaded me out of doors. Sadly, I didn't have time to make my superawesome Halloween costume idea, so I just threw together some stuff from the closet (including the 1920s Girl Detective Death Hat) and achieved a creditable Raymond Chandler Femme Fatale/Girl Reporter thing. Apparently I do own bright red lipstick and it actually looks good on me. Fancy that.

Mostly we nosed through Church St. and then down to Queen and John, looking for somewhere we could go dancing. It was late enough that the lineups were huge and Sarah eventually had to head home due to early work tomorrow, but a bit after midnight I fortituously ran into Friend Mike, who tipped us off about a party the Silver Snail was hosting nearby. And that was an awesome party. We danced our butts off. I saw both a friend from the Star Wars lineup who I haven't seen in four years at least and a guy I did theatre with in high school, who I haven't seen in at least nine. I had a gin martini and held it sassily in my lace-gloved Femme Fatale/Girl Reporter hand, which was a life goal for this evening in this costume. We know where we're going next year.

Packed it in around last call, not sure whether the streetcars were running because it was either 2am or 1am, and while the TTC usually runs until 2am, we weren't sure how they were counting that tonight. We ended up walking up Spadina** and finally catching the Vomit Comet*** homewards. And it is a lovely night and cool, and there were still bunches of people on the streets laughing and chatting and singing, and really, this was a good day and I love my town.

And now it is the second hour between midnight and one, which only comes once a year and is a kinda special hour for me. I'll explain it one day. Or won't. Either way. But I am tired and happy and my black lace gloves are all covered in gin and need washing badly, and I must wrap this up and take myself to bed.


*Oh wow, and in looking those links up I just realized that Geraint Wyn Davies played Bill Davis in the Trudeau miniseries. That's...just kind of gloriously fucked up.

**Okay, for me it was a little more weaving than walking. It was a strong gin martini. It went to the head.

***For those who are Not Torontonians: the all-night Yonge Street bus. Many, many people go home from clubs on it every weekend. Hence the name.

November 2016

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