I was too busy enjoying her birthday over the weekend to send the well-wishes then so belated Happy Birthday, M. Celebratory fireworks and spicy food failed to induce the birth as we anticipated, so I’m looking forward to lots more spicy food over the coming nights as we get closer to the due date.
Birthday shenanigans were interrupted on Saturday as I had agreed to stand in front of some students of creative writing at the University of Hull to talk about my work as a playwright and give them an exciting project to work on. It was fun. Well, it was for me. Hopefully they got something out of it too and will attribute any subsequent success they may have down to the morning they met me. I went to the pub with them after the session to create a stereotypical impression of what a writer’s life is all about. Then, with one eye on M’s birthday celebrations, I hotfooted it to the city centre to meet Lozman and Mrs Lozman in the Blue Bell, where we were interrupted mid-conversation by a drunk who announced to us that “it’s not Trisha, it’s not Trisha”. I think he was alluding to the television show. He was right, it wasn’t Trisha. Hull is great. Ensuring that Lincolnshire’s finest were on their merry way to south bank safety I left all that excitement behind and went and bought some carbonated drinks and fireworks.
Another major interruption to M’s birthday fun was the further redrafting of On A Shout. It’s like some kind of skin irritation that I can’t scratch off. But I’ve grown to love it again I think. More work to do though. I wish rehearsals started tomorrow!
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