13/04/2002 - 8:01 p.m.

I carry my adornments on my soul.

I read Cyrano de Bergerac yesterday.

I'd seen the French version of it, with what's-his-face Dapardieu (although I'm sure I've spelled that wrong), and now I've finally got a copy of the script. It's got everything- sword fights, poetry (the two together, in fact), romance, tragedy, comedy, war, history (it was performed first in 1897, but set in 1640), and it's originally French. Act Three is my favourite.

(That's three seperate excerpts, for anyone wondering why the poetry doesn't work.)

Now, I admit, I'm a great big romantic sap, but I think it's lovely. There's a lot more I've toyed with saying, but I think much of it could be better employed elsewhere.

Right, let's see, it was Solo and Ensemble Festival today (Iowa High School Musica Association, but it never gets called that). It was fun, I think we did well, but I won't give out an official rating until I see the ballot. Mostly because I'm not sure what the judge was, er, judging. Besides, these are number ballots rather than a subjective comment ballot.

I believe Andy got best of centre. Go Andy. Do we not tell the boy he's fantastic? I'd be interested to know how Jimmy did.

Last night I dreampt that I was in London, but it looked like Kingman Blvd. and I was driving to Chicago. Yes, I don't know where my head is sometimes.

I had a whole list of things I was going to write about, but I can't remember any of the rest of them. I hate that.