The Short Weekend

This weekend, I went to Paris and Edinburgh, and even though I left at half five on Friday and didn't get back til nine in the evening on Monday and thus technically it was a long weekend, it felt very short indeed, thus the incredibly funny title of this post.

I went to Paris to visit, who else, Dani, who had just sat a set of exams and thus had been locked away from the world studying for far too long and needed to let hair down. We reconvened at the house of a friend of hers and drank. It was a small party at first- myself, Dani, Matt and Katherine, whom I hadn't met before- but the numbers swelled gradually, to include Rose and Cordelia, whom I had met at Dani's birthday in October and a whole host of new people. Like the social butterfly I want to be, I wandered around the room and tried to blend seamlessly into as many different conversations as possible, but like the repressed theatre kid that I am, I ended up in the kitchen singing Phantom of the Opera, Les Miserables and Company, which I've never even seen and yet somehow know the words to.
For the party, I found an incredibly cheap cider that actually tasted quite nice and, better yet, came in a deceptively swanky bottle, so I looked damn posh to the people I'd never met which is always important. There was also some award winning wine andm courtesy of Katherine, a new way to get crunk and imbibe my daily dose of vitamin C in mixing vodka and grapefruit juice, which is apparently called a Greyhound, for reasons that I think don't exist.

The next day, after sleeping about four hours, I left my hostel and went to visit Dani, who was, shall we say, 'indisposed'. Then, Dani got to join a very exclusive club of Women With Whom I Have Shared A Bed and became the fourth person in a row whom I have slept beside without punching. Score. After scoring a few more hours' kip, I bid Dani adieu and made my way to the airport.

I landed at Edinburgh around half four but, because of delays and general incompetence on behalf of the airline, I didn't get into the city until six. I went to meet Jari at the theatre where he was performing that night (gosh, my friends are fancy) and while there I ran into Emily, who was also acting that night (gosh, I'm such a theatre hag). She was well and although we didn't spend six and a half hours together like last time, she managed to get in a few good digs at my expense. Jari arrived (late- so not that fancy after all) and gave me a key so that I could go home, change and, most importantly for my sanity and that of those around me, shower.
I barely had time to do all this before I had to head to the theatre, where a script I'd written was being performed (SO. DAMN. FANCY.). Waiting for me there was none other than ol' Esmo, and we chatted for a little bit- as always with Esmond, there were a million and one things going on and I didn't have time to solve all of them, but I managed to get through the majority, I feel. Then, he left, and the play began.
This script, titled Diviner Than Thou, was directed by Vlada, who helmed Boomerang/Nautilus last year, which makes her the person other than me to have directed most of my scripts at two. I absolutely adored what she did- the timing and acting was perfect, and the aesthetic- the accents, costumes and lighting- was exactly what I'd imagined. It was a sheer delight to watch the scenario I'd been picturing in my head for so long take form before my eyes. Diviner Than Thou was directed by Vlada and starred Ben Schofield, Grace MacDougall, Scott Redmond, Erin Reed, Finlay McAfee*, Nuri Syed Corser, Liam Rees and Joe Christie in a very memorable cameo doing basically this:

Which, like all great art, was something I could never unsee. But, in all sincerity I loved the play and want to congratulate the cast for a job awesomely done.

After Candlewasters, I met with Rik and Johanna for a drink, and Rik lamented that, although he turns thirty soon, he doesn't have a mortgage. This got me to thinking about the trappings of adulthood and when I will accomplish them: Rik is palpably more adult, organised and worthwhile than I am, but, even at seven years more advanced than I am in our life cycles, he hasn't climbed to the lofty heights of home ownership and I trembled at thinking when I might even begin to mount that ladder.

The next day, I lost an hour of my life. Oh, and also the clocks went back. So, I got up late and went to buy new shoes and trousers for my interview (oh yeah, I had an interview, that's why I was there in the first place- probably should've mentioned that, huh?). After that, I met with Daniel, whom I had missed the last time I came to Edinburgh, and for a while we traded barbs and Daniel admitted he was afraid of me- you know, normal friend stuff.

After Daniel ran away screaming with his tail between his legs, I met Luci for a celebratory drink, for she has Accomplished Something since I last saw her, and that's always worth marking. I also introduced her to the concept of Tony Abbott- a Captain Planet supervillain escaped to our world through a magic portal and who, once you've heard his name, is always standing in your peripheral vision.

After that, I took a bus to Leith to see Johanna again, as she very kindly let me store some of my stuff at her place so that I don't have to take all of it back with me in April. She made me a cup of tea and we talked for a while about babies and stuff (there was a lot of Grown Up talk- and I don't mean the exciting, sexy kind- this trip) and then I caught the bus back and went to bed, ready for my interview in the morning.

I don't really want to write about my interview- and was indeed instucted not to by those interviewing me- so I'll just skip forward to flying back. The plane was delayed, which was annoying, but I meant James Woe in the airport, which was not, and indeed I will hopefully be seeing him this weekend in Paris, so that should be fun.

Overall, it was a very tiring weekend but worth it and I hope to be back in Edinburgh soon. It still contains my favourite people and I can occasionally get a show put on and, really, that's all I want from life.

*Another superlative: Finlay now ties with Jari as the performer who has acted in most of my scripts.

We'll Always Have Paris

First, some outstanding business from my last post: I forgot to mention that I met Craig Methven on the steps of Teviot (I was going up, he was coming down, it was just like that scene in The Artist). So, hi Craig, here's your tag.

The subject of today's post is a meeting that took place between myself, Nicole, John, Naomi and a bunch of new folks. That's right, I went to a party- my second in a fortnight, in case you're counting (don't worry, I'm not delusional enough to think anyone's counting).
I started pre-drinking for this party as soon as work ended, because I didn't want to be meeting new people sober. So, I finished class, said goodbye to my students and then went back to my room and took a couple of shots of vodka. In addition to the fact that I can now no longer claim to have never drunk alone, this was a bad idea because I had to get the bus to the train station and, since it was the end of the school day, my students were also waiting at the bus stop to go home. And I was standing there, gently swaying from side to side and singing 'So Happy' from Into the Woods: I'm hoping that I'm weird enough in general that no one noticed anything out of the ordinary.
When I got on the train, I promptly fell asleep and woke up in Paris, a bit disoriented (I said aloud 'why am I moving?'. In English.) but otherwise completely sober so, you know, that was pointless. John was there to meet me at the station and we were soon joined by Naomi and Nicole, whom I hadn't seen since November. We hugged, we laughed, we rode on far-too-crowded metro trains- it was a rehashing of our greatest hits, is what I'm saying, and that was exactly what I wanted; if only we'd got stuck on a ferris wheel!

Anyway, we arrived at the party pretty early, but that was fine because there was pizza and people from Minnesota, so we could make Fargo jokes. Pretty early on in the evening, John donned a tiara and declared that it would not be coming off for the rest of the night- he didn't wake up with it on, but no one knows where it went.
First up, we played flip cup and, with much like anything else involving vague atheleticism, I was extremely poor with occasional flashes of mediocrity which I had no idea how to replicate. We lost handily, but we also had the first team mate to get properly smashed, so isn't that what it's really all about. We then played a quick game of ring of fire- emphasis on quick, I don't think we even got around the circle twice- and then the party descended into that most nebulous and difficult-to-negotiate of stages, which I like to call Feudal Times: lots of disparate groups, everchanging allegiances and backstabbing, no easy way to make long voyages (like from the kitchen to the living room), accusations of witchcraft and people pissing in pots.
I met some cool new people and I got to have some interesting conversations, a lot of which seemed to involve people mimicking my accent, which I've never thought of as being particularly strong, but there it is.
I went to bed around five, and then woke up at seven because some practical joker had set an alarm and then hidden their phone. Hilarious. After extinguishing that fire, we went back to sleep and woke around noon. We then went out for breakfast and ended up eating on the street because there were no seats inside- my grandmother always predicted I'd end up munching scraps on the street, but she never foresaw that I'd have friends when I did.
After this, we went out for coffee (the place where we breakfasted was not only too fancy to have ample seating- it was too good to serve coffee. In France.) and then to Parc Luxembourg- sadly, by this time, we'd missed the puppet shows, but we did get to take some lovely photos:

 
And John and Naomi pioneered an experimental new kind of Colgate advert:

After this, it was time to say goodbye and possibly never meet again as a group- this is why I've dedicated a blog post to this all too short day trip: if we don't all meet up again, I want to have documented the last time we were all in the same place. That may sound cheesy and sentimental, but hey, it's my blog and I'll cry if I want to. These guys have been good friends to me and I sincerely hope I see them again- if not, well, look at the post title again.

Half-Term or Spring Break! WOO!

So, I've just come back from my final half-term break before my contact ends and I am once more cast into the choppy waters of unemployment. Knowing this would be my final vacation where I actually had something resembling money, I decided not to waste it. The vacation, I mean; I wasted the money big time.

First up, I met up with my sister and her beau in Paris. It was a lovely visit, somewhat hampered by the French public transport system, which decided to not work for the first half of the day, meaning me and my sis weren't reunited until around three in the afternoon. Alack.
The first thing we did was go and grab some very delicious pastries from one of the many boulangeries that dotted the neighbourhood in which we were staying: I went for the tried-and-true pain au chocolat, while sis opted for something green which turned out to be pistachio but, as I lovingly noted, could easily have been snot or, worse, lime.
Anywho, after we went for a walk through the streets on our way to see Notre Dame, which I've visited no less than five times in as many months and of which I am starting to get slightly sick.

What did you say?!

We also dropped in on Shakespeare and Company, which is always lovely, and we perused the books and I tried to be funny and not reveal how startingly ill-read I am. After this, we went and got crepes, and then off to dinner at Chez Janou, a suggestion of Dani's.
A precursory glance on google suggests that Chez Janou is relatively well-known and that this is mainly due to one thing. We'll get to that in a moment; first, I want to inform you that I had snails and that they were actually pretty delicious: I mean, they tasted more like garlic than anything else. A bit chewy, but certainly not slimy and honestly not deserving of the scorn that the French recieve for eating them. There are so many things to mock about French people, why choose their cuisine, which is clearly the only area where they have us beat?
Anyway, why is Chez Janou famous you ask? Two words and a mild expletive: Chocolate. Friggin'. Mousse.

Those pictures do justice to neither the scale nor the deliciousness of the mousse involved. This stuff was divine. It was heavenly. It was ambrosia. It was unlimited. I really hope you understand how big the bowl pictured above is so you get the implications when I tell you that that was one portion.
One. Portion.
There were three of us, one of whom was me, and we didn't eat half of it. It was incredible. I asked the waitress if anyone had ever eaten all of it; she replied 'c'est rare'.
So it happens.
I need to track down the people who have consumed the entire bowl of that smooth, chocolatey mana and worship at their feet because they are better than I am. I had the chance and I failed, even with help. I am seriously gonna spend the rest of my life wondering who these people are how it must feel for them to have to live among mere mortals.

The next day, we went to the catacombs and I finally found the place where I want to have my wedding.

There were a lot of bones is what I'm trying to get across. I would totally have done the Hamlet thing except that a) they have this dumb 'don't touch the bones' rule and b) you can apparently get anthrax from touching skulls.

Naturally, after viewing such a place, we were all hungry so we stopped off and got some chips. After that, we went to a puppet show in Parc Luxembourg (the same one I attended on my birthday, you may recall). The show was Puss in Boots and starred this stalwart fellow:

Who may star in your nightmares in future. For some reason, in the French version of Puss in Boots, the Ogre just gives the cat his castle, which, to me, kind of dilutes the message. But then, the message of Puss in Boots just seems to be 'coast off your hypercompetent friend', so it can't really be diluted too much anyway.
We then went and paid another visit to Shakespeare and Company so I could show off my sister to Dani and vice versa and then we had to say goodbye to sis' boyfriend, as he had work the next day (I made sure he understood that, even on a non-half-term week, I would've had the Monday off; he needs to know to be envious).
Sis and I went back to the flat, drank strawberry wine and reminisced about the old days.

The next day, I was flying to Edinburgh at five, and we had to leave the flat at noon, so we had a few hours lugging our bags around Paris. Still, we found a cool elevated walkway that had gardens and gave you great views of the area around Gare du Lyon, so it was worth it. Soon after, I left sis with a promise to see each other soon (we normally average about four sightings a year) and flew off to Edinburgh.

It's hard for me to describe my time in Edinburgh, partly because I forgot to take any pictures, and partly because it was pretty much just me seeing old friends and catching up, which was lovely and exactly what I wanted but unless I give transcripts of the conversations, I don't have much to say, sadly. However, I will tell a couple of funny happenings that occurred (and maybe some funny occurrences that happened), and try to mention everyone I saw at least once if for no other reason than to have loads of people to tag so this post gets megahits from Facebook (if you read this whole thing just because I tagged you then joke's on you, sucka) (also, please still be my friend and continue to support Devil's Inkpots).
When I first arrived in Edinburgh, I tried to take a bus and immediately managed to jam the ticket machine with my gummy old coins (all legal British tender- I checked), so everyone after me got a free journey. That felt pretty good. However, about twenty minutes later, the bus window shattered, which felt no good at all as we all had to get off the bus and wait in the dark for the next one and, I'm not kidding, it started snowing. Anyway, I got a new bus and, the snow blocking the windows combined with my diminishing knowledge of Edinburgh geography caused me to miss my stop entirely and then have to walk, twenty kilos of luggage in hand, through the snow and whipping wind, to D21 in Leith. There, I saw Jen, Alex and the rest of the Collider crew, and got to hear one of my scripts read aloud so it was all worth it in the end.
I then met up with Jari, with whom I was staying, and we talked into the night (well, not that late into the night: I was nackered and he had work.
The next day, Tuesday, I saw Ian for lunch, after running into James Beagon on the steps of the library who said, bemusedly, "aren't you meant to be in Luxembourg?".
I then went to the Chrystal Macmillan building where I ran into Kirsty- whom I have literally met only once each year since I started uni and always in different circumstances. Henriette was also there and she updated me on the HBO dramedy that is her life (I mean that in the most loving way possible). Then, I saw Rachael and Izzy in Teviot, and also ran into my old boss, who either blanked me or has legitimately forgotten who I am: either is fine for me.
On Wednesday, I met with Becky who has a kitten who was fond of my ponytail, which sounds adorable until you realise he was standing on my neck for half an hour, batting the thing about and using his claws to hold on. On the way to the centre, I ran into Stephen, who was lugging around the largest kettle I've ever seen. This was either for his job or this was his job- I wasn't quite clear. After this, I met Rachel and Kirstyn for lunch and caught up on all the Bedlam gossip (I am, as Emily later put it, "Bedlam's Grandmother Willow"). Then, Rachel and I went and did a linguistic experiment on accentism, run by Ian, and it turns out that some first language English speakers don't know what diamonds are. This boggles my mind. And then, I met Esmond and we talked. And talked. And talked. We met at four in the afternoon and still had stuff to say at two in the morning, when his flatmate came in and politely asked us to be quieter. We still had more to say, but, y'know, that's kind of a good indication that it's time to go to bed.
The next day, I spent the majority of the day applying for jobs (more on this later) and then met Luci in the evening. We chatted and she invited me to a party the next day, and then I went to see Kingsman at the cinema on her reccommendation. It was in English and there were no subtitles. I liked that.
On Friday, Bryn and I met for breakfast and then James Woe and I met for a liquid lunch and I spent the rest of the day feeling mildly lightheaded. I went to the party with Luci that evening, and made several new friends all of whose names I have forgotten. Smooth move, Ferguson. I remember one of them had a ponytail that seemed to be made from the black of night itself and was as long as history, so there's that. I also tied someone's shoelaces together, which I haven't done since First Year, when I realised it's not cool and quirky, just annoying and vaguely offputting. Alack.
Saturday was when the band got back together. By which I mean the old brunching gang of myself, Jari, Johanna and Rik. We dined, drank and made merry and then Rik and I went to buy glassware before drinking some more, which was definitely the better way round to do those two things. After that, I went to Equus, directed by the fearsome Emily Aboud of Death/God fame; while at Bedlam, I also ran into Lucija, Joseph, Amanda and Niall, so they all get a tag.
Sunday was spent largely in the company of Emily- we moved between Olly Bongo's, where we met Ailish, Teviot, where we met Sophie and Victoria, and then Emily's flat where we would have been alone had it not been for the massive, staring pictures of Cliff Richards on the wall (also, Billy Watt was kind of there. As a picture*). We also briefly ran into Jodie, a previous winner of Best Quote of the Year, so she gets a tag.
Jari and I then went to see It Follows, which was based on that story that you've heard about the couple making out in the car and there's the guy with the hook hand and did you know that happened near where I live, yes it did, because my dad told me so and he never lies. It was fine.
Monday was spent packing, flying, travelling and then planning lessons and I didn't run into anyone I have on Facebook, so I won't bother writing about it.

Going back to Edinburgh was lovely: too lovely. I saw so many people, had so much fun, and it made coming back to France really difficult. At the moment, I want nothing more than to just move back to that magical place and live like that forever. But I can't, I know I can't: it's only brilliant because it's a holiday: in September, I was pretty ready to leave.
However, I must make a confession- I've been pretty lonely in France. I hardly know anyone. I stay in my room a lot. Sometimes I'll go see Dani, or Grace or John, Naomi and Nicole and that's wonderful but it's not enough. I want more. So, I've been applying to jobs in Edinburgh- I probably won't get any (everyone I spoke to about this said how difficult it is to find work in Edinburgh), but at the moment, the prospect of living in a city where I actually know people is too tantalising to refuse. I've tagged you all, yes, to get your views, but also to say that I appreciate you meeting with me, even if it was only by complete chance. I'm actually coming back to Edinburgh in a few weeks for a job interview (for China, weirdly), so hopefully I can see some of you again soon. Until then, please, no one move away (I'm looking at you, Sage). I want the city in one piece when I come back.

*The Screen Actor's Guild of America would technically count this as an appearance and we would have to pay him a full episode fee.