everyone of my acquaintance is going to see the rsc lear this weekend (ian mckellen as lear? who wouldn't?) but being an impecunious wretch, i am not. this fact, now and then, floated to the forefront of my attention during the last few months when people were buying tickets, but each time i brushed it aside with hardly a pang (or even a ping, that being a dialect word for a small watermeadow,) and no number of pictures or interviews with ian mckellan that life! ran made any difference. (sarah surprised us by looking at the picture of ian mckellan on the front page and saying, he's magneto! he was, yes, i admitted, and hurriedly explained to her what stage actors were.) months went by, and i was happy, and got on with life, and this morning i woke up and looked at the picture of blind gloucester in the papers and had a minor meltdown - lear! they're all going to lear! i have no ticket!

nonetheless, i am determined not to feel sorry for self, and will take sarah to a picnic at fort canning tomorrow - it's ballet under the stars weekend (girls' day out, she describes it. her father says he'll take her brother out for a boys' day out in that case, but whether that means they'll drink beer and ribena and watch football, or go to sentosa to look at bikinied girls, we do not know. her mother seems to be getting the best deal - a mummy's day all alone, kid and husband free.) and in the morning, to enjoy the last harry potter installment (and if possible, to renege on promises to julian - see j's spoiler moratorium.)