Ok excuse my French in the title. It is a bit more naughty to say “bloody” here, quite a thrill actually.
Before I get into how sad I am to leave (yawn), I have to tell you, dear readers of America, I had the absolute pleasure of seeing the INCREDIBLE Emma Thompson and the MAGNIFICENT Bryn Terfel in the MINDBLOWING West End production of Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street. I had front row tickets too, Seat A2. It was one of the most amazing theatrical experiences I have ever had. The run has ended here now, but this production will undoubtedly resurface so I don’t want to spoil what made it incredible or the twists and adaptations that were so amusing and nuanced but it was a refreshing rebirth of an older Sondheim musical.
This is going to sound cliché but I’ve made a lot of friends from going out in Soho on Saturdays and hanging out with British people I’ve met in the craziest places: Sainsbury’s, on the train, Pret à Manger. Especially a friend group that enveloped me on one of my first nights out and has been lovely to me. I finally know everyone’s names and finally feel like part of their group and I’m leaving. I feel as if it’s been the perfect amount of time here, just enough for me to get used to London and just before I started to really, badly miss home. However, I don’t like the idea of leaving these people I’ve just become close to. And yet, such is life. Distance sucks.