It's raining, it's pouring and my cat is snoring
So I totally gave up on the daily blogging. I had forgotten about the sheer overwhelming exhaustion that happens at festival time. I'm having a night in to try and get rid of the filthy cold that's taking over my brain. I was fine until this morning when we were on our way up to do the kid's show and one nostril and one eye wouldn't stop dribbling. Now, this is a problem when you have a puppet on each hand as you tend to be left with the only option of wiping your nose subtly on the back of a pony's head. Just before the doors were about to open I suddenly realised I was fairly close to passing out. Hmmm...
Dr Theatre kind of kicked in and I didn't collapse in a big sweaty snotty heap, but the show was the worst it's been. It was fine and we just about got away with it but it seemed long for the first time. I then went straight to the shop. Which was not dreadful.
The last few days have been made of fun. The nagging worry that was keeping me awake disappeared with the help of beer and many viewings of the legend that is Amanda Fucking Palmer. Went to her main gig last night and...sweet Elvis she rocks and inspires me. We'd seen her at the fabulous Dreams of Steam gig the night before, where she sang Hallelujah with piano and I cried. I wanna be a rockstar.
Lots of comedy, lots of cabaret (mainly in the shape of the brilliant Kabarett - totally go if you haven't been yet) and not enough of seeing friends.
I'm too full of cold to write any more. I think I might just go to bed with tea. I'm tired. I'm teary. I need a hug. Did I mention this is the best Fringe ever?
Laters.
Dr Theatre kind of kicked in and I didn't collapse in a big sweaty snotty heap, but the show was the worst it's been. It was fine and we just about got away with it but it seemed long for the first time. I then went straight to the shop. Which was not dreadful.
The last few days have been made of fun. The nagging worry that was keeping me awake disappeared with the help of beer and many viewings of the legend that is Amanda Fucking Palmer. Went to her main gig last night and...sweet Elvis she rocks and inspires me. We'd seen her at the fabulous Dreams of Steam gig the night before, where she sang Hallelujah with piano and I cried. I wanna be a rockstar.
Lots of comedy, lots of cabaret (mainly in the shape of the brilliant Kabarett - totally go if you haven't been yet) and not enough of seeing friends.
I'm too full of cold to write any more. I think I might just go to bed with tea. I'm tired. I'm teary. I need a hug. Did I mention this is the best Fringe ever?
Laters.