Could It Be Magic?

Donna Summer at her best. Trawled through the istore yesterday for inspirational music. Found it. Chucked out some babies (not real 'uns), and picked up the tempo. It's a multilayered little bugger with some very speedy delivery required. I have decided not to drink or smoke until ... ok. I just had a good think about the rest of that sentence and working on the premise that one should never commit to the unlikley I shall complete my statement with the word "tomorrow night". It's not too far away and I'll have run a race by then. Neil says he's definitely in. I bet he goes off like a bloody firecracker. I'll try not to smoke again though. If I'm gonna be kissing people I don't want to smell some faggy old shitter.

Inspired by the comedy chracter photo opportunities where you stick your head through a hole, I am hoping to make a placard with people's heads painted on, so the audience looks at the bodies but can't see the heads. Do you see what I did there?

Better go and find myself a spangly dress. Won't be able to buy it though. Just gone over my overdraft limit for the second time since I've been here as still haven't been paid. If it doesn't come in soon I shall have to put my placard to another use. This is always the problem with the academic environment and the Lyric Theatre Hammersmith (singled out in this instance as they refused to pay me unless I provided a passport!). You have to  buy all your own props with your non existent wages, gather receipts (gypsies and spiritualist churches tend not to be happy with this type of exchange) and then wait for weeks to get reimbursed, all the while living with the creeping anxiety that you may be about to be charged 35 quid for the pleasure of having your bank tell you you're a tosser (again). 

Oh no. That rant just made me want a fag.

Anyroad up... I don't want to talk about the work and exactly what I've been up to in the Nuffield Theatre because an idea once clearly expressed in one form, needs very little expressing in another. Suffice it to say that if all else goes awry, and I end up in debtors jail/the canal, there'll be some really cool tracks for you to feast your ears on in my twenty minutes. Alright: I've basically been choosing music, improvising to it and then writing down the bits I like. It's a very useful way of switching your "attitude" in a flash. You know. Upbeat to sentimental and all of that.

Right, I'm off to put some tunes through the theatre PA system.

(Is it very bad to wish that someone were dead?)