So i finally got here, after the most nightmarish trip of my life. KLM demanded the passengers arrive at heathrow 2 hours before the departing flight, which left for Amsterdam at 6:30 am. Unfortunately, the ticket counters at H’row don’t open until 5 am. Yummy. Sitting in a cold airport, exhausted and hungry, I wondered why I didn’t just take several pills and kill myself, but then that would’ve been pleasurable compared to dealing with ticket ladies at that hour.
Once i checked in, which took an hour and a half, even though i’d checked in electronically, all my fluids were confiscated by the security cunts. nice. had no idea that, since August 21, you can’t bring anything, including tooth paste or cologne or lip balm, onto a plane. Unless it’s perscription, then it’s ok, which makes no fucking sense at all, since you can put anything, including a liquid bomb, into a perscription bottle. there’s no way to stop some lunatic from blowing up a plane, we all know that, so why take away my expensive skin moisturizer???
after being violated, the flight to A’dam was delayed, so i ran for the flight to cape town, which was crowded and there was – there always is – a crying baby nearby. i took a sleeping pill, or really whatever i could find, it might have been a poison dart for all i cared at that point, and woke up in cape town. i might have watched a film, and cried. wait, i did. i watched ordinary people and lost my mind. can timothy hutton be any hotter in that film? him, trembling, in a speedo made me openly weep. then i arrived in cape town, where, sadly, i found no luggage. the airline lost it. Lesson #45: Don’t yell airline people when checking in, only when checking out. i’m not saying they lost my luggage on purpose, i’m just implying it.
now here i am, in a mac store on the waterfront, flirting with a very cute boy who works here, and begging him to help me with my computer, which, naturally, doesn’t work at the hotel, though it’s supposed to work there and i’m sure everyone else’s works there, but because i was obviously hitler’s chauffer in my last lifetime, NOTHING works. Astrologically, yesterday was my lucky day. Kill me. Again.
Show starts on monday. I’m on the ‘Queer Stage’ show. me and jason wood. thank god he’s amusing. I think I’ll be nice this year. I’ve done this before, and was challenging, and really, it got me nowhere. Maybe I’ll try smart and slightly coy. Couldn’t hurt.
xxxx