Friday 30 August 2013

To Return

I returned to Edinburgh very briefly- pretty much for just one day, in fact- this week. I was originally going to keep this a secret, simply because I couldn't see everyone and thus thought that seeing no one would be better; this plan came acropper when Esmond discovered me in the library, furtively charging my phone. He told me there was a leaving do that evening, and I originally thought it would be for someone whom I could afford to miss- when it transpired it was for Rosie, who I didn't even know was leaving, I felt I wanted to say goodbye. And so, I came upon the Bedlam social scene once again.
Unsurprisingly, people to whom I had nothing to say before, I had nothing to say to now, after we hadn't even been in peripheral contact for a year. I didn't really care, to be honest (this in itself is quite a success as at one point I would've been mortified at their apathy towards me- now, I know better than to pay mind to those whom I don't interest and, frankly, don't interest me). But there were people there whom I had genuinely missed, and to see them again was a delight. I'm not going to make lists of who was in which category, because I don't see how it will do any good, but I imagine that those who attended the party and who also read this blog- a population of around two, I estimate- can categorise themselves.

My reason for going up was to scope out my new digs; I found them to be pleasant, well-situated, and, most crucially, BIG. My last Edinburgh flat is best described as 'shoe-box', so it is nice to have enough space to open the oven all the way (oh, how I wish this were hyperbole). Here are some pictures of my new room:


I also saw Esmond's new accommodation, and I feel that, after having spent the majority of our sophomore meet-ups at his, we will be resorting to our first-year habit of hanging at mine this year, for the simple matter that he is about a half-hour from the university, whereas I am a mere ten minutes. But, Esmond (and Grace and Rachael and Carolyn)'s flat is lovely, and I certainly won't begrudge it if we do end up there more often.

And finally, I feel I ought to address the question of my feelings upon returning to Edinburgh; anxiety, dread, panic, confusion, nostalgia and, finally, relief.

Wednesday 28 August 2013

Lancaster

This will be one of the shortest blog posts I ever write, and not just cos I'm writing it on my phone and I hate that.
We've just stopped in Lancaster, which was originally my first choice uni and whenever I pass through it on the train- which happens quite often- I can't help but think 'if you lived here, you'd be home by now' and, since I inevitably have another two hours on the train, I smile at the prospect of a life not lived, where I spend a little less time on locomotives.
That is all.

Friday 23 August 2013

Rob and Roberta and Rory and Joe

So, Rob and Roberta is done, and it remains quite a superlative piece in the Kelly canon: it had the most performances of anything I've scripted so far, at 3, and thus had the greatest number of tickets available, at 300; it had the highest age certificate, being rated 15; it was the first to have a photo-based poster;
it was the first to get a teaser trailer; it was the most expensive Kelly production ever, costing $343 overall for set and props, but it also made the most money, topping £300 GBP, more even than TWWOO, and, in a twist no one saw coming, it will be the first production based on my scripting that may actually pay some of the profits back to the cast and crew. Lots of dreams come true, there.
I really want to thank Declan, Laura, David, Maddi, Leonie, Igor and Daniel for making my vision come to reality: any time something that starts in my head ends up in the real world I feel a real swell of pride and joy, even if that's on the other side of the world, and now that has happened seven times, because of you guys. Go B.E.S.T.!
P.S. I've put the script up for viewing on the Writings page.

I saw Joe for the first time since returning yesterday- he himself had been away to Ghana during the year, so we had a lot of stories to exchange about living in new countries and reverse homesickness.
He delivered to me the sad news that Frances wouldn't be in Edinburgh when I returned, and I saw the downside of deleting my facebook and then allowing my friendship circle to add me as they wished- I'd completely missed out on the news of Frances' departure.
I also learnt that Joe and I will be graduating in the same year, and this feels right, as I like to pride myself on having been in the background of all Joe's life (or, at least, all of it in the last four years), and now we'll enter into the 'real world' together.

Saturday 17 August 2013

Freelance

So, I've been meaning to write a post for a while, and kept on putting it off, so this post will be long.

I got some feedback from the guy for whom I did the editing on the Elvis book, and it was really, really positive; he's gonna send me another one soon. If I do the next one well as well, he might send me a couple more, and I can add 'Freelance Editor' to my CV; I mean, I've added it now anyway, but I could add it and it would be true!

Patrick has left for Sweden for a year. It felt odd to be on the other side of that equation. We met on Tuesday, and went for drinks, and I kept thinking  that this would be the last time I would see him for a year. And then I remembered that A) I've already gone a year without seeing him and B) he's gonna be back at Christmas, so it won't actually be all that different from how we met up previously. So, I regretted having bought him a drink.

I met Mel and Travis again on Thursday, and all the good work I'd done towards cementing my bond with Travis has been undone- he had no memory of who I was, and kept referring to me as 'JoJo'. For the first half of the day, he was very warm towards me, even imploring me to stay, mainly because I kept playing with him in this jungle gym thing- I actually managed to fit through the weird Car Wash squeeze columns they have, which made me feel my diet must be working. Then, Travis went down for a nap, and when he awoke, the cheery disposition was gone, and all that remained was the cold fury of a three year old. He kept on reminding me that I'd 'miss my train', which I admit is quite a smart move, even if he was two hours early. When I did finally leave, he said 'one kiss and then you have to go', which stung. Also, the kiss was slobbery, so no points there.
Mel and I had a conversation which only we could have, and I was reminded why she is possibly my closest friend: a complete lack of judgement, and a sense of fun that I'd like to think matches my own.

My father, with whom my relationship seems to be getting more candid, said he thought I was sometimes 'up my own arse' during my old blog. This is really nothing compared to some of things I've called him in the past, so I'm not really offended. This was part of one of the millions of 'you have so much talent, but no application' conversations we've had since I was twelve- they've doubled in frequency recently, due to the impending end of my undergrad course, and I'm really trying to ditch the 'no application' vibe, but it's not easy; I really hope I can get myself in gear for fourth year.

I hopefully have somewhere to live in Edinburgh, just one street over from where I used to live, so I can resume my overly-comfortable relationship with the Scot-mid on the corner, which I used to frequent in just my pyjamas and no shoes (though, in fairness, I frequented many places, including lecture theatres and libraries, with no shoes during second year).

My mother had one of her ex-pupils over for lunch the other day: a woman I used to call 'Lesbian Heather', simply because she was one of the only openly gay people my parents knew. It was weird to see her again after six years, now engaged and living a gloriously normal life, something which seemed impossible to me when I was fifteen.

The premier of Rob and Roberta is but a day away, and I'm very excited; I really wish I could see it, but it's also cool that a piece of my writing is being produced a continent away. It makes me feel exotic and accomplished (who has no application now, father?!)

I did something very bad on Friday and was, for the first time in my catholic life, tempted to go to Confession. It just struck me while I was swimming that the action I had performed was extremely petty and that I would probably receive some just reward for what I'd done. I was overcome with the desire to admit my sin, and be forgiven, to try and forestall the karma. This was worrying because if I actually start believing in divine retribution, then there is a plethora of worse things I have done for which I should, rightly, be punished. It was also worrying because the act itself was extremely petty and I'd hoped I was beyond that stage of my life. In the end, I confessed to my mother, who, though lapsed, is Catholicker than I, and she responded with a tried and true 'you're as good as the best and as bad as the worst', which I think is kind of like forgiveness.

I apparently charmed most-to-all of my relatives in Ireland, after my lengthy absence of five years. I've been invited back to stay whenever I please, and I think my mum envisages me moving to Dublin to live out my young adult years under the supervision of my aunts- a delusion I'll let her keep, as she paid for me to go.

I actually started crying at this week's episode of Futurama which, in my defence, was incredibly sad. This marks the sixth time I've cried since July, and the eighth time I've wanted to; I think that good sob I had when I was leaving Melbourne opened something up which cannot be closed again so easily.

I watched Silver Linings Playbook with my parents last night, and I found it interesting because one of the reasons I like that film so much is because it reminds me of my own family: the father is obsessed with sports and constantly trying to make his son share that interest and the mother is a busybody who just has to get involved with everything. My parents absolutely adored the film, my mum commenting that she loved the mother, and my dad feeling the other characters were unfair towards Robert De Niro, the father. Quelle surprise.

And finally, Moira is back. She's not staying very long, but it's good to see her, especially because her hair is long and shiny. She seems so well and effusive, that I'm actually quite proud to be related to her. She's even invited herself up to Edinburgh next year, and I may take her up on it.