Business.

I can only pretend to be in charge of the cinema, as I don’t own the place, do the programming, or take care of a lot of the maintenance, bookkeeping, and any of that other jazz. In the last few days, I’ve had to fill in as cashier, popcorn scooper, and ticket ripper, which really ...

Clarity.

Starting the day wonderfully, still reeking of popcorn from when I helped at a busy show last night, sweaty because of anxiety, and ready to sell the cat to the circus.

Hidden depths. 1

Dreamt that I went to Australia for three months. I was living with people I didn’t know: Piper Kerman and her husband, who, it turned out, lived in Australia for part of every year (not true). I was made to watch a version of ‘Orange Is the New Black’ which had been produced 15 years ...

Terrible theatre and great comedy. (Or vice versa.)

I’d like to think that the universe is delivering this part of the country a chilly, somewhat dreary August to cheer me up about not being in Edinburgh for the Fringe. Even though I’m fairly sure that’s not how weather works. I’ve actually only ever been to the Fringe twice, though they were (obviously) life-changing ...

Human life. 2

There are far bigger problems than being a spinster or having a hangover or both, but that’s the reality I face this morning. Really, really excited about proofreading when the light is burning straight through my eyes to my brain.

Balance.

Woke up early today to do interval training. I’m still on my couch, though, because a) I need to eat something first and b) I have to rethink this running training thing. At least for this week.

Healing chigger bites with mud. 2

I realised a couple of days ago that I haven’t written anything – not just in this space, but anywhere – in about a month. I mean, obviously I write things like emails for work, Google Hangouts about how why some women don’t appreciate fart jokes, and whiny Facebook statuses, but even my attempts at ...

Riding the rails without Misters Bird and/or Johnson. 3

So, the audition happened. Here are notes I scribbled while waiting in the hallway for them to come out and take our photos:

Brian Butterfield.

Brian Butterfield.
If you’ve not heard of Peter Serafinowicz, you should probably try to rectify the situation. 

Storytelling.

I am doing a challenge to write 750 words every day in May (on 750words.com). Day Two and I hit paydirt. Well, dirt.