This is the monologue I've been trying to learn today:
I've been realisin' for ages that I'm, y'know, slightly out of step. I'm twenty-six. I should've had a baby by now; everyone expects it. I'm sure me husband thinks I'm sterile. He was moanin' all the time, y'know, "Come off the pill, let's have a baby". I told him I'd come off it, just to shut him up. But I'm still on it. See, I don't wanna baby yet. I wanna discover meself first. Do you understand that?
Yeh. They wouldn't round our way. They'd think I was mental. I tried to explain it to me husband but between you an' me I think he's thick. No, he's not thick, he's blind, he doesn't want to see. You know if I'm readin' or watchin' somethin' different on telly he gets dead narked. At first I just told him to piss off but then I realised that it was no good doin' that, that I had to explain to him. I tried to explain that I wanted a better way of livin' me life. He listened to me. But he didn't understand because when I'd finished he said he agreed with me and that we should start savin' the money to move out of our estate and get a house out in Formby. Even if it was a new house I wanted I wouldn't go an' live in Formby. I hate that hole.
Rita, from Educating Rita by Willy Russell.
This, however, is what's been playing over and over and over through my head all afternoon and evening:
Off to the library, one two three.
Off to the library, you and me.
And when we get there, what do we see?
Books, books, books, books, books,
Everywhere we look.
from a song on Justine Clarke's album "I Like to Sing", probably titled "The Library", but I don't actually know.
(Aaaggh! Make it stop!)
Off to Luna Park tomorrow for the Open Day. Really looking forward to it. I just made myself up a bunch of business cards with my headshot, so that I'll have something to give to all those film directors who'll be spotting me and wanting me to be their next big thing.
*wink wink, nudge nudge*