Best Ever

New Zealand unfolds below me, rumpled and spotted, and I'm thinking of so many things. It was good to see Harry again, but I think I'm still picking latex out of weird places. No wonder John had so much trouble with Gimli's make-up. Having spent a week buried in prosthetics up to my eyeballs, I can sympathize. I had fun playing a deranged person, and I worked out some lingering insanity of my own. After talking to Hugo, who encouraged me to live my life, and not let the possibility of a shift ruin things that I really want to do, I called Harry to say I'd do it. I owe that man my career pretty much, so there's not a lot I won't do for him.

It's also a day to think about the things I really want to do. ( I'm thirty-three today. )