::points you to thebestwithinus for a recap of last night's events. (And just because that entry was awesome.) Went and saw a one-woman show edited and directed by Alan Rickman about an American girl who was killed doing humanitarian work in the Gaza strip in 2003, all based on her e-mails and letters home. She was a remarkable girl. The acting was fantastic; remember Ever After? The evil blonde stepsister. She was amazing.

I jumped up and down a few times and then smacked myself mentally over the head when I finallly spotted him across the room. I stood next to him at the bar. And, um, nearly had an orgasm hearing him chat to people in the restaurant. To use that sultry voice so nonchalantly, it's like flailing a machete in a crowded room. Could do some damage. And ohgodsopretty...

Oh, and saw Guys & Dolls with Ewan. In the first row, even. I had to get up at 6:30 in the morning to get the tickets, but oh man. I've been five feet from Ewan McGregor. His "voltage" was a bit low, I s'pose, as the Time Out London so claimed. Which is to say, his voice is kind of thin, and he definitely didn't have the great stage presence of some of the others. But for serious. I know it's blasphemy. He made up for some of it with the dancing. Oh, the dancing. You do not want to see Ewan McGregor do the Lambada. Your ovaries will never go back again. Not now that they've seen the Promised Land.

Speaking of the Promised Land, Liam Brennan kissed me on the cheek. I'm still at a EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE He may not look ridiculously attractive in pictures, but when you add iambic pentameter, a beautiful Scottish accent, an unbuttoned shirt, and a profession of love--and I'm going to stop there, because my ability to articulate his deliciousness is sort of outdone by my boy-hungriness. But oh man. I can only wish it had been Michael Brown or even his holiness, because then I wouldn't have washed my face ever. again. And that's the truth.

Oh, and Derek Jacobi is pretty awesome. (::cough::Gladiator::cough::) He came and gave a "master class," a.k.a. a two hour Q&A with sixty excited actors/directors/potential literary managers (that's the addition of moi right there, aren't I smooth), and had lots of really interesting things to say about his professional life, and how film acting compares to stage acting, at least on a superficial level.

And wow. It's windy and rainy outside, the leaves are turning, and I can see the wet path into Regents Park running diagonally across the grass behind the hedge. It has a boulevard of oak trees standing on either side of it, and the long branches form a sort of tunnel of orange and tawny. The clouds are a blistering white when the sun shines on them (it hurts to look at them, actually), and the patches of blue sky are absolutely radiant, especially when the wind blows.

Did I mention it's beautiful? My mom wants me to look into graduate school here. And I'm relieved.