I wish, to be precise. Benedict Cumberbatch and Master and Margarita. That would be glorious.
Then “Woyzchek” by Georg Buchner.
Costumer/theatre lifer/prolific crafter/hockey nut/lover of all things bright, fuzzy, and/or British...
Particularly cranky until properly caffeinated. Swears like a sailor, wears Chuck Taylors with formal wear, can quote Shakespeare and Ionesco with equal enthusiasm, tattooed, armed with glue guns and rhinestones.
Probably a bit too well-read for her own good, but friendly to all, unless you're mean, at which point I couldn't give less of a toss about you. Life's too short.