Lots of other people were there, too. But I only noticed a few of them. ~s~ I'm sorry if anyone wanted to talk to me and my brain was elsewhere.
Hmm. Failsafe path to remembering B-Movie with a smile no matter what happens :
Step one : Rise from the Underground at King's Cross and immediately spot a striking goth across the concourse.
Step two : Catch said goth's eye and actually somehow find the courage to go over and say hello. "B-Movie?" It's like a secret handshake.
Step three : Walk to B-Movie, and talk, with said (extremely beautiful and articulate) goth.
Step four : Make big wide kitten eyes and get scritched a lot. Squeak. Get told things. Collapse.
Bizarre; I'm not supposed to be brave enough to talk to beautiful strangers. ~shakes head~
And all that pretty much before the arrival of the people I'd actually bothered going to B-Movie to see. ~s~
But it was good. And I met julietk and felt very relieved. And I got scritched more. Really lots, in fact. Which was nice. And, and, things. ~sigh~
I knew I couldn't avoid caring for long, but I'd hoped it would be longer.
The evening ended oddly and suddenly - I got in the taxi back in tears - but mostly things were good. And I've been fretting about this Calling, worrying I'll have a bad night, but it looks like it might not be so bad after all.
This entry is somewhat disjointed. But I got minimal sleep and today I'm meepy and very very scared about the audition I've got this afternoon and, and, stuff.
And I need coke and all there is in the house is Diet Fanta because my mother is Bad and Wrong.