Rememer, remember, in Oz there's no fifth of November

So, it turns out I won 'best dressed' at the hallowe'en party: I honestly kinda feel it should've gone to Jess, but I get a cinema ticket out of it, so I won't complain.

And I did look bloody irresistible.

In other news, it was Shane's birthday on saturday, and an almight chekhov's gun was employed; in O-week, we did a scavenger hunt, the purpose of which was to collect the ingredients necessary to make gloop. This included, flour, eggs and food dye. Now, since no one felt like getting glooped, we were allowed to just take the ingredients for ourselves. I got a bag of flour (still untouched) and three bottle of food dye. Fast forward four months (ye gods, four months?!) and Manthy wants to pull a trick on Shane by making him eat mayonnaise disguised as chocolate sauce (I know, I know- Loki would blush with jealousy), but there is a problem- it still looks like mayonnaise. Then I remember that I have four month old food dye just sitting on my shelf. And lo, Shane did eat of the mayo, and it was funny as.

You dare laugh at my pain?

To celebrate cue ball's date of birth we all went out to a casino, and I pulled a Jason in that I'd never been to a casino before- well, I put five dollars in a slot machine (honestly, I don't see the appeal- it's not even fun), and ten dollars on a roulette table and I lost all of it, and let's hope that's my history with gambling done. Although, I did go to the dog races in Dublin once. Maybe I'm just incurable.

The mall near my work is all decorated up for christmas, and I know I've pointed this out before, but it's stupid that there are aussie christmas decorations based on snow and icicles. Oh well, this will be my first christmas alone, and at least part of it will feel like home.

In other news, there have been several mentions of Oz on Once Upon a Time, and every time it happens, I squee a little inside. Plus, the most glorious thing happened on QI a couple of weeks ago (I only found this out yesterday):
http://youtu.be/22q7MViXrq4?t=27m9s
Did Stephen Fry just mention where I live by name? As in, not just Melbourne, but YARRA? Why, yes, yes he did. Be jealous, ya tools.

"Sir, I will fight you"

Dear reader, today you are in for a treat even more scrumptious than the one I consumed last night. Yes, those of you who also follow my admittedly sporadic tweets (and thus get the full Wiz-kid experience, as it were) will be aware that last night, in the company of messers Logan and Aspen, I frequented a pancake parlour. Oh, what rapture! Oh, what ecstasy! But that is nothing compared to what you are about to experience, dear reader; gaze, agog and aghast, at a photograph...taken by yours truly. 

Not pictured: a balanced breakfast.

 And, what is this? Another?!

Huh. I'd always pictured them as identical twins.

Yes, even though I purchased a phone some eleven days ago, up until now, no picture taken had the panache nor classiness necessary to be placed upon this blog of blogs. But now, weep mere mortals! Weep at the beauty assembled before you!
In other news, the pancakes were delicious but gave me a stomach ache this morning. Swings and roundabouts.

I went to a readthrough this morning- I hadn't been to one since January* and that was Spirit of the Butterfly, so I'm just gonna go ahead and say I actually haven't been to one since that workshop in October which lead to the infamous 'Rory as Titania' line**. It was immensely enjoyable; at first, naturally, we were all kind of awkward and no one really knew what to say. But then, someone tittered at one of my recitations- I was cast in the role of a clown (playing to my strengths)- spurring me on to greater pantomime, encouraging others, and before long we were having a gay old time with much mirth and we started interacting outside of the script. I'm so glad I got up for it, because to be honest, between the weather (see The Shit Hits the Fan), my stomach ache (see above) and the start time (see NINE O'CLOCK IN THE BLOODY MORNING!!!), I was sorely tempted to skip. But I didn't, and was rewarded. Sure there's a moral in there somewhere, but if I look for it I'll have to live by it.

The readthrough also introduced a new player into the mix by the name of George- after the reading, he and I stood talking and not only did he compliment me on my voice and say he might be able to help me get a job but he smokes a pipe, so he's definitely in my good books. Hopefully, we'll meet again next week at another readthrough, so I'm gonna go ahead and create a tag for him (am I moving too fast?). Anyways, readers, I feel that's enough excitement for you, else you won't be able to get to sleep, so off to bed.

P.S. The title's a quote from the readthrough.

*For the purposes of this blog, I'm counting a readthrough as a reading of a play as a gathering where people assemble to read a script when they have no intention to be in a production of said script, thus discounting The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Hawk Noir and the ten minuters' scripts.

**You know the one I mean.