Today has been a good day...
Last night I got a text asking if I was able to cover a shift at Hampton Court Palace. Naturally, I said yes, since i) it was an extra shift, ii) less is actually expected of you when you stand in at such short notice and iii) sick cover carries a bonus fee. I did a lot of reading on Dr Richard Cox ready to replace the 'Lady of Prince Edward's household', but discussion with colleagues once I was on site meant that I actually ended up playing 'King's sidekick' Sir Thomas Wriothesely instead but still took on the challenging 'do a scene you've never done before' option. The scene in question was well within my ability (gossiping about wives 1 through 5, basically), but it wasn't the best scene I've ever done. Bizarrely, I think I'd have probably done better doing it solo rather than in partnership with the company's Research Manager since she and I had very different ideas of what was relevant information and what was too much detail. Neither of us were wrong, I think, but we each 'passed the ball' to the other with unexpected and unwelcome spin. Still, our audience were pleased and that's the thing that counts.
During the course of the day (and, I suspect in no small part because I was physically present at the time the crisis arose), I was asked for my availability and willingness to play King Henry VIII on Friday night for a corporate event. I first checked that the people more suitable for the role weren't available and then (of course) said yes. I've been interpreting the period for 19 years and the man himself has finally caught up with me. The inches I shed from my waistline during the Summer are now counting against me, but that's what fat suits are for, I guess. Previously mentioned Research Manager will be my Jane Seymour, but my experiences with Trouvere will serve me well. I do _excellent_ banquet host. (I will endeavour to make sure I get pictures, since this will be splendid for my website.)
Towards the end of the working day, I got an email from Portsmouth City Museums confirming that they definitely want a sixteenth year of Tudors and time travel at Southsea Castle next June. And July. Six weeks! It'll be a very different beast than previous years, but it's very nice to have a project I thought slain by the introduction of a cafe into the castle to actually rise from it's grave and go on an extended brain-eating rampage instead. Not least because the new Tuesday-Thursday pattern means my weekends will be much more available for other late Summer Term work that I've had to turn down in previous years.
And then I got an email from Trouvere asking me to keep 16 days in July and August clear (pending confirmation) at various very splendid English Heritage sites around the country. One of the dates clashes with July Maelstrom, but I no longer have joy for that game and have the possibility of spending that weekend playing music at Dover Castle with the rest of the band. And getting paid for it. (Maelstrom remains a great game that I highly recommend, but it has been displaced by Insurrection as the one game for which I'll forego a gig.)
So. In a 24 hour period I have been offered (and accepted) 31 days of dressing up and pretending to be someone else, which should score me about 5 grand. Nice.
During the course of the day (and, I suspect in no small part because I was physically present at the time the crisis arose), I was asked for my availability and willingness to play King Henry VIII on Friday night for a corporate event. I first checked that the people more suitable for the role weren't available and then (of course) said yes. I've been interpreting the period for 19 years and the man himself has finally caught up with me. The inches I shed from my waistline during the Summer are now counting against me, but that's what fat suits are for, I guess. Previously mentioned Research Manager will be my Jane Seymour, but my experiences with Trouvere will serve me well. I do _excellent_ banquet host. (I will endeavour to make sure I get pictures, since this will be splendid for my website.)
Towards the end of the working day, I got an email from Portsmouth City Museums confirming that they definitely want a sixteenth year of Tudors and time travel at Southsea Castle next June. And July. Six weeks! It'll be a very different beast than previous years, but it's very nice to have a project I thought slain by the introduction of a cafe into the castle to actually rise from it's grave and go on an extended brain-eating rampage instead. Not least because the new Tuesday-Thursday pattern means my weekends will be much more available for other late Summer Term work that I've had to turn down in previous years.
And then I got an email from Trouvere asking me to keep 16 days in July and August clear (pending confirmation) at various very splendid English Heritage sites around the country. One of the dates clashes with July Maelstrom, but I no longer have joy for that game and have the possibility of spending that weekend playing music at Dover Castle with the rest of the band. And getting paid for it. (Maelstrom remains a great game that I highly recommend, but it has been displaced by Insurrection as the one game for which I'll forego a gig.)
So. In a 24 hour period I have been offered (and accepted) 31 days of dressing up and pretending to be someone else, which should score me about 5 grand. Nice.