Shallow-May

So I traversed across the mighty plains of the Midlands of Ireland, to witness a dear friend dance in frilly red veils. It was an experience I tells ya. Not only was I witnessing the closest thing to a sister I'll ever have cavortin' on stage, but I also had to sit through her seduction of a Holy Man! Holy as in, there was a hole in his burlap...apron...vest...thingy...

Ahem.

This was an intriguing play. Bloody. Dramatic. Sexy. (Never tell my friend I said that.) But it was also in Irish. It shames me to realise how not-so-fluent I am, but I was overjoyed when I heard and understood the Irish word striapach. (Click for meaning) So much for a potential teacher being able to speak the language he'll be teaching.

I'd love to write more on the play, but I'mma gonna be there tomorrow night too, after a wee get-together with the aforementioned friend tomorrow. Oh, and it's also 1.44AM. I needs me some sleeps.

The Poster for my mate's production of Salómé. She was the whore in it.