Confessions of a Struggling Actor

So after rehearsal on Saturday morning it was home to await the arrival of Dougie.  The boy got in later afternoon and we immediately headed to the offie to stock up for the evening.  On return Dougie pulled out a bottle of MacAllan Elegencia as a present for me – Rance, you see what you missed by not coming down over Easter!?  After a brief catch up on the lives and loves of the Aberdeen contingent, Sue, Mark and Laura Main cam round and we headed out for some food.  After some top nosh (and a silly non-alcoholic cocktail for Mark), Laura got us invited to a house party in Highbury.  We were treated to a new drink called Dr Pepper (beer, coke and then you drop in a shot of Amaretto and down it) and polished off our beer and wine.  Mark and Sue left, with the rest of us following just a little later.  Dougie and I waited outside while Laura was ‘chatting’ to a boy and amused ourselves by popping balloons and leaving insulting messages on various friends voicemails – most of which we forgot until the next day.

It wasn’t pretty the following morning.  I woke up face down in an impossible position on our sofa, with Kinnear spread-eagled over the other couch.  We managed to rouse ourselves to go an meet Stuart and Rachael for a pint by Paddington, where they told us tales of Paris, EuroDisney and bumping into students protesting.  The first pints of the day did for Douige, so I headed back to meet my sister and Luke in time for the ManU-Arsenal game.  They arrived just before me and had brought the ingredients for a roast.  What an absolute touch!!  I did some tidying and cleaning and helped get them everything they needed and we sat sipping cold beers and chatting before devouring the roast and watching some Mighty Boosh.  Not long after they left, I pretty much passed out and swore I wouldn’t drink again until Easter.  Oh well…

Monday night, I had a script reading for Jim Kenworth, who I've done a couple with before.  A really good script about the farmer whose pigs Jesus drove the devils into.  It means he has no living and his son dies of starvation and so he wants a word with Him.  Amusing, with some interesting points to make, it seemed to go down well.  The upshot is that I'm now down to do a reading at RADA in June, which will continue to help my eternal search for the right agent.  I was feeling rather buoyed on my return home, if still suffering from the weekend's exertions.  Then I got a call from Mel (mystery girl to those of you wondering who she was) catching up with news.  Eventually, she got round to the main point of her call.  She had been away with the boyf to the Cotswolds and wanted to give it a go.  She gave excuses like not wanting to get into anything too intense, that we're both too busy for it and so on.  I did what I always do, by swallowing my disappointment as much as possible and wishing her well, stating her happiness as the most important thing she had to take into consideration.  Part of me wonders whether I don't fight enough sometimes, that I take that kind of statement as the end of it, but I ain't playing no games.  Not that Mel was.  Well, what the hell, it would have been wonderful, but never seems to be meant to be.  I found a little comfort in a large MacAllan.

The rest of the week leading up to the holidays was quiet.  I went to see the show at the Lion and Unicorn on Tuesday, but due to being held up at Work (which is altogether too busy at the mo) and then trouble on the tube, I got there 5 mins after curtain up.  I had no cash, so went straight home and moped about a bit, still feeling a little low from the previous evening's news.  I managed to make it in the next night and kept my counsel as much as I could after the show.  It was typical API fare, but having seen so much of it over the years, it didn't feel fresh, though you could see the good work that went into it.  I wish them well for Edinburgh, but in a way I'm glad that I'm not joining them.  One of the other disappointments was in trying to find a flatmate to replace Call-Me-Daddy Murph when he leaves on the 1st May.  Quite apart from breaking up what has been a happy experience in Crouch End, it's left us agonizing over who to get in.  Most people aren't ready to move, so we may have to put an ad in with Loot and see what weird and wonderful people come to see the flat.

Easter was a welcome 4 days off - of sorts.  I was paid on Thursday and was able to have a small amount of enjoyment over the weekend, as my life will be Work and Richard III from now til the end of May.  I got in some smoke for the first time in ages, much against the sensible head that I had on.  I was planning a sort of blow out and at least one day spent doing absolutely nothing so it seemed like a good idea.

Friday I picked up and went off to play golf.  I played better than I have for years, but still had the same kind of score.  Still it's more fun when you whack it for miles...  That was followed with an evening of beer, pizza and poker til 4 am.  Saturday was spent mainly in my trackie bottoms watching crap TV and looking over lines.  Sunday, I had arranged with a few folk to meet on town for afternoon drinks and then on to No City Fun's gig in the evening.  A fun afternoon with Sue, Bron, Matt, Craig and Harry was had, despite me worrying that no-one would come out due to the inclement weather.  The gig at night was good - it was brilliant to see Gareth, Louis and Luke doing something live, having listened to them from 1st demo stage.  They were by far the best band on and everyone was impressed.  I headed off before the last band finished with the tentative plan that people were coming back to mine, which after an hour at home was patently not happening.  Yesterday I was back in a world of hurt, but recovered enough to enjoy the first read through of the Shakespeare.  It went well and they seem a nice bunch, so I'm full of hopeful anticipation for the next 6 weeks or so.