"How much for the horse tornado?" "Madam, that is a carousel." "I must have it."

Petie came to visit me and we had the time of our lives and I'm going to attempt to write a blog post that isn't ENTIRELY WRITTEN WITH THE USE OF CAPS LOCK.

Our visit got rescheduled at the kinda-sorta last minute-- originally it was to be Thursday evening (the 24th) until Saturday afternoon (the 26th) since Petie's mom and some friends were to be attending a conference, but then things got changed around and Petie ended up going to the conference too and so she came to my house afterwards, from Saturday to Wednesday, and we had more time together with things happening that way so it was a very nice arrangement all around.  And more time together is always agreeable in my mind.  We did things that were fun and fun is good.

I think, instead of trying to transcribe a play-by-play of the Visit, I shall just give you a few Highlights and elaborate on the ones that demand elaboration.  Also I shall include pictures because pictures are fun.  (Petie took all the pictures because my camera is currently dastardly and broken.)

Some of the highlights, then...

~Showing Petie The Scarlet Pimpernel (1982) for the first time.  I am, after all, the Queen of TSP Indoctrination.  And she is now even more of a Leaguette than she was before.  Also a very good imitator of Sir Percy's weird mouth noises thing that he does whenever he's in costume.  That IS the general idea.

~Making up ridiculous nicknames for each other.  She's Elphanine, I'm Galindasette.  It all stemmed from the condensed version of Les Mis In Concert that we did with the rest of my siblings down in the basement on Monday afternoon-- we followed the story pretty faithfully but inserted "What Is This Feeling?" as a joke right after Marius and Cosette met.  Eponine was obviously jealous, you know.

~In that vein, the Les Mis concert was pretty hilarious.

"Black.  The color of dis bear." *gestures dramatically with a stuffed animal*
"Dude, that bear's white."
"Hush, it's a metaphor."

~Going out for ice cream with Anne-girl and quoting those hipster-edit pictures and making up our own and amusing ourselves a little too much.  (Yes, we came up with the one you see above.)

~Celebrating Talk Like Jane Austen Day for about thirty seconds (read: attempting to keep up an early-nineteenth-century way of speaking) and then replacing it with Talk About Jane Austen Day, which is easier to do and could be maintained for hours.

~Taking silly pictures because that's what we do best.

~Singing and singing and singing and singing.  We do a kind of awesome cover of Phantom of the Opera together and YouTube has some very, very nice karaoke.

~Drinking lots of coffee.  And tea.  Oooh, tea.  We love tea.

~Watching Lorna Doone (Petie's first time with that too) with Anne-girl and cracking up over, y'know, everything.  John's pronunciation of "beautiful," for instance.  And James McAvoy being, like, twelve or something.  And adding ridiculous pet names for kittens to the end of all the dramatic lines.  And Carver's hair. CARVER'S.  HAIR.  Seriously.

~Singing "down once more to the dungeon of my black despaaaaaair" every time we headed downstairs to the guest room (which is in our basement and which is where we stayed during the visit) and quoting all the best lines from that POTO-in-ten-minutes video.  "Hey, look.  We're at my LAIR again."

~Taking one short day in the capital city... one short day, oh there's so much to do... okay, well, it was more like one short hour because we didn't have much time, but people, we photographed a squirrel on the White House lawn.  Unfortunately we did not get to ride The Squirrel.  Hugs if you get that reference.

~Watching West Side Story together (Petie's first time... don't pretend you don't see a trend) and making fun of the romantic leads.  Because, you know... really now.  No one honestly cares about Tony and Maria.  Bernardo and Anita own that movie, whether the filmmakers admit it or not.

~Having deep conversations at 1 AM about romance and marriage and all that jazz, and a dream cast for the new adaptation of Little Women because we can't be TOO serious all the time, you know.

~Reenacting that one clip from the interview where Benedict Cumberbatch's cell phone went off... she plays Buttersnitch Cucumberpickle and I play the phone.  We're an Oscar-worthy pair, we are.

~Watching the last episode of Lark Rise to Candleford together and squealing all the fangirly squeals when our favorite couple ever finally got engaged.  THE CUUUUUUUUTES.  And have you ever noticed the trend of fainting in that episode?

"First Minnie.  Plop."

"Then Margaret.  Thump."

"Sidney'll be next.  Thud."

"Then Alf.  KA-THUNNNNNNNNNNNK."

*noisy laughter*

~Making up insanely silly variations on the quote in the title-- which, by the way, is from a random picture we saw on Pinterest (we have no idea what it's from and Google is being singularly unhelpful) that struck our fancy.

"How much for the window bathrobes?"
"Madam, those are drapes."
"I must have them."

"How much for the spray of hydration?"
"Madam, that is a water fountain."
"I must have it."

"How much for the entrance rectangle?"
"Madam, that is a movie ticket."
"I must have it."

~Watching War Horse together (and that one was MY first time).  I intend to review it eventually but for now let's just say it ripped my heart into little shreds, m'kay? Brutally KILLING off my favorite character wasn't enough-- oh, no, they had to kill off almost all the OTHER characters TOO and put the poor HORSE through so much AGONY and GAH THE FEEEEEELS.

Ahem.

But it was still a really really good movie and hey, several familiar faces popped up at random times, especially Tom Hiddleston who was, you know, kind of one of the reasons I wanted to see the movie in the first place.  COUGH.  There's one particular scene where his character Captain Nicholls is sitting at a desk sketching a horse (er, THE horse) and it prompted the following exchange between Payton and myself.

"I bet that's actually him doing the drawing."
"Of course-- he does all his own stunts and all his own horseback riding and all his own flawless drawing."
"And he designed and sewed all his own costumes."
"And went through like three hundred of those snappy military jackets because he kept giving them to people."
"Yes, yes, this pleases Cute Owl."

~Singing random bits from The Lion King while parading down the street in public.  Maaaaaa sowenyah mababeeeeeet seebabah... (There was no one else around, but that's not the point.)

~Walking past a group of British students when we were in the city and going verrrrrrrry slowwwwwwly so we could hear the teacher's lecture.  Because, um, it was educational.  Very.

~Reading aloud the book-a-minute classics to each other and nearly killing ourselves laughing.  (People are MEAN to JANE EYRE.)

~Just plain enjoying being together.  Because that's what friends are for, oui?

What I really, really love about Aaron's portrayal, though, is how he delved into the role and made sure it was as accurate as possible.  The reason it's so spot-on is that he worked hard to make it that way.  Not just reading the book (though that in itself is admirable and commendable and delightful and wonderful and exemplary to other actors in book adaptations who should sit up and TAKE NOTICE) but taking the time to explore the character as deeply as he could and think about the motivations driving him.  (Oh, and the way he stayed in character more than anyone else at the Oscar performance was THE BEST.)  This quote, I gotta say, is one of my absolute favorites.

In light of that, take a look at this section from the brick in which Enjolras has just killed Claquesous for his murder of an innocent porter.

Enjolras had remained thoughtful. Shadow, mysterious and grand, was slowly spreading across his fearful serenity. He suddenly raised his voice. There was a silence.

"Citizens," said Enjolras, "what that man did is horrible, and what I have done is terrible. He killed, that is why I killed him. I was forced to do it, for the insurrection must have its discipline. Assassination is still a greater crime here than elsewhere; we are under the eyes of the Revolution, we are priests of the Republic, we are the sacramental host of duty, and no one can defame our combat. As for myself, compelled to do what I have done, but abhorring it, I have judged myself also, and you shall soon see to what I have sentenced myself."

Those who heard shuddered.

"We will share your fate," cried Combeferre.  [I love Combeferre.]

"So be it," added Enjolras.  "A word more. ... In the future no man shall slay his fellow, the earth shall be radiant, the human race shall love.  It will come, citizens, that day when all shall be concord, harmony, light, joy and life; it will come, and it is that it may come that we are going to die."

~Les Miserables, "Saint-Denis," Corinth, chapter eight

This was the first part in the book that made me cry when I first read it.  (I only felt sad when Enjolras actually got killed and barely squeezed out a tear at Eponine's death, but I've matured since then.  Don't worry.)  It struck me all of a sudden that they were all going to die, that they knew they were going to die, and that they weren't going to do anything about it.  (You have to understand that I had no idea what the outcome of the story was going to be when I first read it-- it was all totally new to me and any hypotheses I made about the plot were pure speculation.)  That this group of students and laborers, fathers and sons, teenagers and middle-aged men had followed one man into a revolution that might go nowhere, that might never see fruition, that would almost certainly lead to their deaths.   Because they all believed in liberty and freedom for all men, yes, but also because they trusted and followed and loved a charming young man who was capable of being terrible. A young man with that sort of charisma that would induce his little band to follow him into the fire no matter what.  I can't think who that reminds me of, but I'm sure it'll come to me someday...

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It has often struck me how well Les Mis lyrics can fit more than just the people they were originally meant for.  (That was a confusing and convoluted sentence, but hopefully you get my drift.)  Obviously "Valjean's Soliloquy" and "Javert's Suicide" have a lot of the same words, but there are other songs that fit together so well.  "Bring Him Home" fits that little Javert/Gavroche moment in the post-barricade scene, "Suddenly" is appropriate at times for the Gav/Courf relationship and "I Dreamed a Dream" has parts that go so well with Enjolras' story.

Another song that frequently comes to mind when I think of Enjolras (other than Green Fields of France) is "The Impossible Dream" from Man of La Mancha.  Can't think what put that in my head... must be another charismatic hero thing.  Huh.  Funny.

Anyways.

(Don't get me started on the whole mashing-up-Les-Mis-with-other-musicals thing, by the way, because I'll never stop.  Next to Normal has some particularly killing connections.  "I am the one who held you, I am the one who cried... I am the one who watched while you died.")

Alllllll right, wrapping this up...  but I can't leave you guys in tears.  That wouldn't be nice.  So here.

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