DAY 1, Tuesday 2nd August 2011

I got up early for the big trek up North, drawing a picture for my no-longer housemates on a piece of paper. I hung it on the fridge, got my suitcase and bags and set off. The luggage was quite heavy and, remembering the two excruciating treks up the hill I made not even a month before, I was pleased I could now relax and let the downhill gravity pull me towards the busstop. This wasn't as easy as I imagined, especially as it started raining. Luckily, I was nearly at the busstop by then.
More trouble came in the form of cancelled trains from Brighton to London, since South Croydon station had been flooded. I still cannot understand how. I got the train 45 minutes late, and arrived at the station, lugging my bags through the building site that is King's Cross. There I found my friends who I would be living with for the next month (and teching their show) Politically Erect. Ben and I went out for a MacDonalds across the road and when we came back, the train was ready for boarding. Unfortunately, I couldn't reserve a seat near my friends, so I had to get my bags into another carriage and sit there for the full 5 hour trek (not including the delays that would happen). The people were relaxing and settling into their seats in that way that people do when they know they're going to be travelling for a long time. On a 5-minute to 3 hour journey, people tend to be more serious, hiding behind free newspapers and texting. I had 15 minutes of free wifi and I was going to use them!
After a 5½ hour journey, we trekked into the new town with our luggage, until we got to our flat. It's a lovely, but small accomodation. I'm sure we're going to have a lovely time.

This year, apart from teching and random open spots (so far: not many) I've been talked into writing reviews for an online publication called Fringereview. This means I've got a press pass, scaring performers on the Royal Mile and getting admiring glances from offensively young-looking flyerers. Hmm. Maybe I should abuse this power. Surely Brian Logan and Kate Copstick get loads of fanny thrown at them during the fringe? Hmm? SURELY? (tenuous). I had been invited for the C Venues launch at the Carlton Hotel. Free drinks and schmoozing journalists, it was a world that had been strange to me, having been mainly a performer or just pleb at arts festivals, gigs, theatre shows and the fringe. There was, however, also a showcase, featuring a lady wearing a Ukelele on her head (Tricity Vogue) and a Scottish comedian who had to work a cold room, without adequate mic and in front of journos who obviously weren't going to find time to listen to him. Still, I met some nice people, and it's interesting to see what it's like on the other (some would say the dark) side.

I met up with a friend from Sussex, who's in a play called Coal Head and Toadstool Mouth at the Spaces (go see. I saw the Brighton preview and it's funny, stylish and cool), and we had pie, pints and a very amusing yet animated conversation about why he thinks evolution is wrong, because he can't believe life arose from dead matter, chemicals, amino-acids and electricity, back in the day. And by back in the day, I mean back in the days of the Precambrian era, when days were about a third shorter then they are today. Just saying. So it was a lot of days. I respect his opinion but he is, of course, fantastically wrong. His point, that you should not let people (and children, specifically) believe something that cannot be proven to be 100% true is however, more understandable. Yet as we know, the scientific method requires that we find out what we DO know (or think we know) and try to disprove that. If we do, we (and by we I mean scientists, not me) can take babysteps closer towards what IS empirically true.

But he is completely right in saying that I am most likely wrong too. Science can only be an approximation of the truth and by necessity, never the whole, all-encompassing truth. We only know what we CAN know, and science doesn't ever give all the answers. In her book Being Wrong – Adventures in the Margin of Error, Kathryn Schulz talks about the fact that people CAN be wrong (and usually are), means that if we become aware of our errors, we can move to a position that is 'more right' than the one before, but usually doing this in full conviction of their own rightness. I, personally, enjoy being a hypocrite, because that means I can be right at least twice. By this time, I'd started gesticulating and drooling and we'd gone round Assembly Hall twice. And, er -people were starting to stare.

Still, good convo.

I had a milkshake with him at McDonalds (bad habits start here) and he got chatting to a Scottish guy who complimented me on my accent but also immediately informed me of the fact that I was gay. I wasn't aware of this.The accent I have chosen to use in English may be poncy (giving me the idea of doing a show called 100% Ponce about -obviously- identity), but to immediately make assumptions about what kind of person I may be is a bit odd. It might have something to do with the feminisation of the English by the Scots. Not that I would have had any problems with that, I'm just a ponce. Why can't I not be that? Ah well. We've been together ever since.

DAY 0, Monday 1st August 2011

On Monday, with my packing and cleaning done, and having gone to Sussex campus one last time (to buy Sussex University-emblazoned clothing for my Dad and my brother) I basically had two options. Either I could write a maudlin, self-indulgent blog about my year in Brighton (suffice to say it's been good) or I could get pissed with friends, which is exactly what I did.

I also figured out how I could receive Radio 4 on my phone. Because that, ladies and gents, is EXACTLY how I roll. Bring on You and Yours. Acecakes with Awesomesauce. Woman's Hour! That's what I'm talking about.

I met up with the oft-besuited ringmaster of Casual Violence comedy, Mr. James Hamilton. We had a couple of drinks and later ate Japanese Food on the lawn of the Pavillion Gardens, in the sunset. This could be described as romantic, were it not for the fact that I, at every slightly heartfelt word he uttered, laughed in James's face. He has to learn. I then tried to scare away a seagull by shouting at it in a once-competent Australian accent. I did this to make sure no-one would suspect me to be the culprit. James then reminded me that everyone could, you know, see me and my attempt at a disguise was a flimsy ruse. That was Brighton, then. See you some time next year!

EDINBURGH BLOG FROM HELL

Hello. I'd been planning to restart the blog for a while now, but I was either far too busy or my life was too uneventful (as in: got up, went to Crawley, worked for 8 hours, went back home which constituted pretty much all of July). But now I'm at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, I thought I'd better keep you all abreast of what I've been getting up to. Mainly walking around, obviously.

There is also another reason for the recent lack of blogs, My blogging-routine is possibly not the healthiest in the business. The ones that are good either start with a good idea or something I just have to get off my chest. I then write about this, possibly 800-1000 words. That's all fine (although I've been hearing from people who tell me the blog – does go on a bit-). The ones that are ok, I really have to work hard at, fighting off boredom and wireless internet, or get so bored I can do nothing else than write a blog, if only to torment myself. Those last ones, ironically, tend to be the best ones. But recently I've not had that opportunity, so expect this cavalcade of catch-up blogs to be faintly amusing at best and rambly twoddle at worst. But you did get the word twoddle. So don't complain. Enjoy!