My Poor Rusalka...

Ladies and gentlemen, I love the Opera. There, I said it. It's heaven. It's not broadway musical all singing all dancing heaven, but it's a kind of heaven and I love it. And now, having been to the Opera yesterday courtesy of my friend Mel (Mel knows everyone - seriously, test her) I am sure that wig making is the way forward. The wig department at the Glyndebourne is amazing, it's all shiny and bright and full of nice ladies measuring people's heads and suchlike things. It's a funny sort of thing to want to do, but I want to do it and if anything I have to do something so this will do. I'm going to ring Babs after Gilmore Girls. Babs, Barbara, is the woman who runs the wig making school that I want to attend. I only call her Babs in my head.

I went to the Opera with my mother, Slez, so it technically doesnt count as a Jess and Ray's, but it's changed my life so I'm talking about it. And it was free, but it wouldnt have been if Mel didnt have connections. She used to work in a bike shop so she knows everyone who has ever ridden a motorbike, and Clive, the props man, rides a motorbike. We had to go in Slez's car, because mine isnt posh enough and they wouldnt let us in in it.

After I've rang (is it rang or rung? The classic Pocket Craig debate) Babs, I'm going to ring Ray and see if we can organise an Interesting Thing. It's sunny today, but also it's freezing so that's a shame. This weekend, while I was working working working, serving mean people food and drinks and generally wishing I had a grown up's job instead of the job of a 15 year old girl, Ray was graduating. Ray is a graduate now, for the rest of her life and I am very proud of her.