"England hath long been mad, and scarr'd herself..."

I am currently in a state of unreality. Just a couple hours ago, I saw Richard III. (That's where the quote is from, by the way.) With Martin Freeman. I still can't believe it. I got out of the theater and traveled the Tube home in a daze. Thankfully, I came to my senses enough to switch lines and get off at my stop. It was incredible. Incredible. Utterly transfixing. All the acting was superbly arresting. I came in not knowing much about the story of Richard III, and I was on the edge of my seat for quite a lot of the play. Exciting, startling, frightening, funny, even. I was sitting on the stage. In the front row. Photos weren't allowed, but I couldn't resist just one.

You might think, "That looks nothing like the set of a Shakespeare play." This one was set in the mid 1970's, hence the scenery. I thought it fit rather well. But my seat? Incredible. On the stage, it was like I was part of it, I was so close. There was a lot of blood, but none got on me, so that's probably good, especially considering I was wearing a sweater borrowed from Marya.
Here's the ticket:

Getting to the theater was super interesting. There was some kind of protest against Israel going on today, and wouldn't you know, the march started at 1pm, and went right in front of Trafalgar Studios. Didn't prove to be too much of a problem, though, just wove through the crowd to get to the other side of the street. But this is Trafalgar Studios, taken after the play, when the protesters were gone:

And, of course, the poster. Which I bought a (smaller) copy of. Plus a program. All to immortalize this great event of my life.

And, earlier, while I was making my detour around the protest:

Happiness.

And there's something special about tomorrow, I just can't seem to remember what it is. It'll come to me. Eventually.

Oh right! It's somebody's birthday! Whose birthday? Well, mine, of course. My 21st birthday. The next time I write in this blog, I will be 21. No big deal. Until then, cheers!