raven | small pieces of joy (Reply)

Oh, OULES. I have so much love for it right now. Having reached version 15.0 on the script, we are finally rehearsing the Aeneid. The cast are ridiculously wonderful, portraying, among other things, the deathless romance of a dairy product and a kitchen implement with utmost grace. Aeneas and Dido are so utterly charming that they fill me with joy. It helps that OULES this term has no concept of gender, and both Aeneas and Dido are women and all their scenes together are awkward and sweet and made of love.

In the background of today's rehearsal, we had a handy classicist-drawn map showing all the places of the Mediterranean-as-was: Phoenicia, Carthage, Crete, and Troy (marked DECEASED). Also Neasden, for some reason now in Libya.

Euryalus and Nisus, in the meantime, bicker like an old married couple. (Gender, we mock thee: Euryalus is being played by a woman, who takes a somewhat dominant role over Nisus.) "Bicker!" I said, when being directorial. "Fight, like an old married couple. Like we do."

"We don't fight!"

foulds said.

"Yes, we do!"

"No, we don't!"

"You always do this - you never let me talk!"

Maria looked rather like all her Christmases had come at once. It made me happy. We ran through about half the play in total, random scenes depending on who was around, and I know the script ridiculously well - well enough to recite long portions of it from memory - and it was marvellous to hear it fresh, coming to life. I suppose if my life had to become a television show, I'm perfectly happy for it to be Slings & Arrows. When I'm haunted by the ghost of my dead co-director, I shall stop asking if it's time to go crazy and just go ahead and do it.

I got back home from the rehearsal, sat down on the kitchen table with my mug of spiced apple tea, and my flatmates all congregated unexpectedly and handed me a note. It said: happy birthday. Your presents are in Tuktoyaktuk.

Okay, I said, and went to the world map on the wall. There was a note for me there, which it took me a moment to puzzle out. There was another note in the salt cellar. Another in the apple teabags, another in the freezer, another one slipped between the petals of a rose. Yet another in Maria's copy of Going Postal, another stuck to Claire's door. This one directed me to a highly ceremonial object, in case you forget where you live.

I went downstairs to the staircase board, where the note stuck to my name said: happy birthday! did you know, your presents were on the kitchen table all the time?

"Bastards," I said, deliberately loud enough to carry, and went traipsing back up to find a stack of wrapped gifts had appeared miraculously on the kitchen table. Oh, I love them. I am now the proud owner of the 2008 Doctor Who annual, a £25 book token (wrapped!), a large bag of sweets, a pair of caffeine earrings (!!! love!) and The Voyage Home and The Undiscovered Country.

I sat and felt very happy. And then, looking at the Star Trek DVDs, "How did you know which ones to get?"

"We didn't!" Claire said a little hysterically. "We stood in HMV and rang James, and he talked about even and odd numbers!"

I sat back on the table, let people play with the gifts and finished off the tea feeling very much loved by the whole world. James was holding the earrings; he looked at me and said, with feeling, "Geeks are people too!"

Yes. Yes, we are.

And now, an early night. It has been, against all probability, a lovely day.