Lines are now closed

After a deluge* of responses to the whole "do I go to the End Of The Road Festival" question, I have come to a decision.

We're going.

So I have booked the tickets and, in a moment of madness, also bought a new tent to replace Trilby's old one, which was all mildewed and stinky.

And what a tent!

Yes, it is covered in pictures of fish. Tremendous. Also excellent is the fact it was reduced from £100 to £50. Oh, how I love a bargain.

 

 

* may be hyperbole
10.8.06 16:25


Magnum force

I have a champagne hangover. That hasn't happened in a while.

A friend of mine is the barman at Boujis, nightclub of choice for young royals* and braying West London types. His lovely girlfriend Laetitia had her birthday party there last night.

As you can imagine, there was a lot of free alcohol.

I can't remember what time they poured me into the cab. I know I fell asleep while eating toast, because the bed was full of crumbs this morning. And I'm pretty sure I was still drunk when I wobbled into work, half an hour late and still wearing last night's eyeliner.

Ahhh. It's just like the old days. I'd feel nostalgic if it wasn't for the pain in my noggin.

Incidentally, my mate the barman was mentioned recently in an article about Boujis in the Daily Mail (blee). They said he looked like a hobbit. It's true, he does. Specifically this hobbit:

It's really quite uncanny. "Daily Mail in accurate reporting shock!"

 

* apparently, Harry and Wills never have to pay for drinks. Also, they never, ever tip. Free for those who can afford it, etc. etc. etc.
10.8.06 11:41


Ballot box

Is anybody else out there going to the End Of The Road Festival?

Trilby and I are thinking of going, but it's at the beginning of September and I'm scared that it might be cold and rainy. And it would mean buying a new tent, as Trilby's has gone all mouldy.

However, British Sea Power, Badly Drawn Boy, Guillemots and Jim Noir are all playing, so maybe a little rain wouldn't matter...

 

Should I go? Help me decide, people of the Internet!
9.8.06 09:27


Bad Ideas Of Our Time #22

Having a row in a restaurant while drunk with your (even drunker) boyfriend. Then storming out dramatically and flouncing home, only to realise that you've forgotten your house keys.

Cue a rather shamefaced phonecall to the aforementioned drunk boyfriend, asking him to come and let you in. Pizza for dinner, humble pie for dessert. Mmmm, tasty.

 

To make matters worse, the argument was about ballet. Ballet, I ask you.
1.8.06 10:10


Hiatus

I'm back from Cyprus, taking a break (hah!) before the Oxford leg of the tour.

Notable events of the past week include:

  • Sleeping with the air-con on too high, thus rendering my head completely immobile on the day of the first show. Cue lots of tears, shrieks of agony and a trip to a masseuse who, should the bottom fall out of the massage market, could easily secure the position of Head Torturer in any banana state you care to mention. Fortunately, Doctor Theatre weaved his magic spell, and the ol' bonce was in nearly full working order for the show.
  • Sunburn. And a costume that chafed.
  • Realising that my days of staying up until silly o'clock are over. 3am is now officially my limit.
  • Not having a single hangover. Not one. It's a miracle. I put this down to not staying up until silly o'clock.
  • Finding the BEST RESTAURANT IN THE WORLD (also known as the Seven St. Georges Tavern). Authentic Cypriot meze made by angels. Organic wine from their own vineyard. Free orange liqueur from their own orange trees. Dessert meze with the best bread-and-butter pudding I've ever tasted. Music and laughter and song and kittens. And NO HANGOVER. Hooray for organic wine and going to bed before 3am!
  • Getting trapped in a lift with 7 other cast members. For three-quarters of an hour. In 45 degree heat. By the time the engineer freed us, we looked like we'd all been showering in sweat. We then had to dash for the plane. Mmmm, fragrant.
  • Losing my return ticket, and having to pay thirty Cyprus pounds to get it reissued. What ever happened to electronic tickets? This is the year 2006 for Chrissakes!
  • Seeing Tim Westwood (the white DJ who thinks he's black) in the airport, dressed like  a 13-year-old boy and talking into his mobile in a very middle class accent while his homies stood around trying to look cool. Jerk.
  • Coming home to find it was nearly as hot here as it was over there. Only here there is no air-conditioning or swimming pool.

That is all. Good to be back. Sort of.

 
21.7.06 13:39


Two years

It's our anniversary today. Two happy years since Trilby drunkenly asked me for my telephone number, and I (equally drunkenly) gave it to him before dragging him back to my flat. He was holding a samovar and a welding mask, as I recall. It was one of those parties.

And now we're living together, and working together, and about to set off to Cyprus to do a show together. He has become the centre of my world.

So I'm off to buy a big bottle of champagne. To celebrate, like.

In the meantime, here's a picture of him in his costume:

You can see why I love him, can't you?
11.7.06 12:53


Happy happy

I'm in a jolly good mood today, chaps. 

Mainly because I just had my lunch (a cheese and pickle toastie, and a white wine spritzer, since you ask) in a pub in Cambridgeshire. Which is conveniently located within walking distance of Clerkenwell Towers.

Confused? That's because I went to Ye Olde Mitre Tavern which, despite being located in the heart of the City, is officially part of Cambridgeshire (something to do with it being on on land belonging to the Bishops of Ely). It's small, lovely and almost impossible to find. It was also blissfully quiet and cool - probably due to the aforementioned inaccessibility - which on this stifling day was a real relief.

London is so brilliant. Love it, love it, love it.

I'm also in a good mood because of the fantastic summer rain that started coming down on me as I walked back to the office. Some (rather lovely-looking) workmen offered me shelter from the downpour; I said I was enjoying the rain too much.

And I'm wearing a new dress that looks pretty damn fine, even if I do say so myself (perhaps this was the reason the workmen offered me the shelter of their building site? Nice work, new dress!)

And I go to Cyprus in a week's time to do a play. Yes, you heard me. Cyprus. Feel free to hate me.

Yup, I think it's safe to say that I am in a thoroughly good mood.
4.7.06 15:01


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