We have got tenants!

This is good news for us - it means we don't have to find a spare mortgage payment out of our *snicker* pocket change this month.

While we'll have to pay a fat fee to the landlord for getting this done for us, in the long run it will mean, on a monthly basis, that we will have a bit less to worry about with our monthly bills. That with the reduced rent cost in the place we've moved to should mean a bit less sweat on our brows come the monthly bills.

I have celebrated by buying myself a completely garish raincoat, with a hat to match. It's the first new thing I've bought since Christmas and I'm looking forward to wearing it through London spring showers (with a little bit of help from lastwordy_mcgee, thanks!).

Nearly 1100 words later I finish my reviews

I guess it's no wonder it takes me so long to write these damned things. At any rate, I've finished my reviews of Dimetos (at the Donmar Warehouse) and A View from the Bridge (at the Duke of York's Theatre). The writing quality was excellent for both of them, and I have to say it was kind of cool to see a play by one of the, say, three or five best American playwrights of the 20th century (Arthur Miller) right up next to a play by South Africa's Nobel winner Athol Fugard, and to have them actually be so very closely related to each other in style and major plot points. In some ways, it just provided an opportunity to show how different the writers and the cultures they were writing about were; in other ways, it provided some top notch actors a real chance to shine and my brain an opportunity to think about how similar situations make different people react in different ways (even made up people - but because the writers were so good, it's an easy thing to forget that Eddie Carbone didn't exist before he walked on the stage).

At any rate, it was a good evening, and this late in the day my only regret is that I can't just keep writing this review for weeks and weeks and make it some kind of scholarly piece comparing the two plays. Instead, I think I'm going to settle down with a glass of the Syrah we brought back from Sicily and call it a night. Tomorrow we're seeing the Scottish National Theater's Peer Gynt at the Barbican and if I don't get this one out, I'm going to get hopelessly backlogged.

I also really ought to work on my resume. But I can do that on the train to Durham. Better plan on bringing the cable and hope there's power on the train.