M McD. I know she isn't the sort of person that I should like, but she is all the same. She's pedantic and has a touch of the stage brat about her at times, but I do like her. She's fun, and she's bouncy, she makes us tea and she pretends to be part of my gangsta cru- anyone that does these things cannot be awful. She will sing with us and she'll run lines that aren't her own for the greater good without pointing out that this is what she's doing. If she thinks anything, she will tell you truly, and I like this about her. I think that she is straight with people and unafraid to say what she thinks, which can only be good things.
She's got a very prim, dolly sort of face. It's pretty, almost, but quirked. She should be in a Tim Burton film or something- it's almost plastic shiny, and she's a little bit chubby, and she has smooth hair cut into a little girl's bob with a fringe that she clips off her face and a squeaky voice- or a voice that squeaks sometimes, it's usually calmish. The whole effect is of an overgrown child. I find it easiest to imagine her in one of those flouncy sunday silk dresses with lace gloves so popular in the fifties for classy families.
She said today that I was talented and energetic and that I worked hard, and it was lovely to hear someone say it, and asked me to audition for her next play. I couldn't believe it. Two asks for me to audition, and yes, it is an amateur place but I like being creme de la month. Mois. I thought she'd be a pain. I suppose it's difficult to dislike someone who's so definite about admiring you, simply because she believes I am talented... argh, ego's involved. But I do like her. According to her, I am not only talented but have raw energy and... ah. I am glad.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment