Eeeeeeeee! Just watched my scenes from mum’s La Mancha video, and I feel so joyous that I can hardly contain myself. I kept bursting into fits of squeeage whenever Tom or Lobo or Mark or Gabby or Stephen or Emil did anything cute or memorable. I will love those guys forever, and though I still miss it, I now know that “Don Quixote is not dead.” And “my name is Dulcinea.” Theatre videos make very good therapy.

The quote of the day remains “She nurtured us! Like little baby birds! ::hand gestures:: Until we blossomed!” (Eugene: Birds don’t blossom!)