Mootpoint

The weekend that was was a good one. Partyage was had, with thanks to Si and Des, (who’s house is quickly becoming the bbq venue of choice, no doubt due in no small part to it’s immense, incredibly sunny back yard with ample space for soccer, and perhaps even a spot of backyard cricket…), and Vertigo, now with added Andrew Kepple, newly imported from the ranks of various dramatic societies. In a shock development, I didn’t get drunk and fall down (well, on Saturday night – one out of two is better than usual) and took over Tim’s role of taxi driver to the stars.

In actual fact, the taxi driver role had more to with the other aspect of the weekend than any innate desire to relieve Tim of his chaffeurhood – the “going out and recording songs with Mog and Scott in Little River” aspect of the weekend.

This, quite frankly, kicked arse. The sitting in dimly lit halls listening to other people sing of last weekend was replaced with much music, sun, and swimming in the surprisingly warm swimming pool out the front of the house, all witnessed by cows and sheep across the fence and set in the beautifully lush, green, quiet (well, before we got there) Puaha Valley. Huge thanks to Andrew Kell for his amp and peddles and various other bits and pieces of gear, and to Jonathan Smith for his electric guitar that he made, back in the day. Who knew? Its pretty nice…

In show news, it’s finally been confirmed all officially like that Si is going to be the Dentist and Ben Mr Mushnik. So yay for that. I get the feeling from Saturday nights’ conversation that Ben is only just realising that he’s signed up for a musical. Which, you know, requires going on stage and signing to an audience. So that should be a good few nights, even.

As far as my role’s going, I think the committee are getting a bit worried about the financial side of things (and fair enough to), but hopefully grants and sponsorship will begin to flow in the next month or two. Failing that, I need several thousand people to come watch the show. No worries. Surely. Ahem. And, because I’ve got too much spare time, the first production meetings for the next show was last Thursday, with Karen, Scott, Jeff and I gathering to talk about the recently confirmed May show – The Tempest. Ooo. Actually, I’ve had a look at some of Jeff’s designs for set and costume ideas, and they’re damn cool, so I’m picking that both these shows are going to rock. How can they not? I’m sure I’ll have everything organised by Christmas…

(They must never know…)

Well. Show’s cast, and a couple of our very own are to be seen gracing the Ngaio Marsh Theatre come February next year… so you’ll all have to come and bring family and friends and people you’ve only just met just now down at the corner while you were buying chips before the show but they seemed nice enough and so you thought you’d bring them along, but not to the party after the show, cos that’d be just risking another Jeff, or whatever his name was. Charlie, that means you.

Soon I will update the MuSoc webpage, and all can gaze in wonder at the cast list, as there’s bugger all else to say about the show yet. Except that it has a plant in it. Possibly from Palmerston North.

In other news, Si and I are heading to Wellington on December 3 for the weekend. Something about some people just moving up there or something? Will be good to catch up with the various James’ and others who now reside in the capital. Capital.

…and the weeks stretch into months. I really do mean to update more regularly, but I went in a fencing tournament, then I got sick, then I couldn’t be arsed, then the show started getting real busy like. And I’m sure there was a party or two in there somewhere. Excuses excuses.

Though at least I’ve got some…

I’m back at my Dad’s now (well, I say back, but I’ve never actually lived with him as such, not since I moved out of home over nine years ago) all the way across town in sunny Wigram. It’s not so bad, the house is new and nice, and free, and I intend to have bbqs and guitar and the usual, for all those who can make it out that far. Speaking of which, I spotted a downside last night when discovering that for the first time since moving out of said home nine years ago, I’m not living within reasonable walking distance of wherever I might find myself (usually town or University). Which is a bastard at midnight, especially when those who very kindly offer aid manage to lock themselves out of their own flats. Luckily, others could drag themselves away from their questing long enough to offer help for those less fortunate.

Fat Nic No Car indeed.

I’ve got nothing else, except maybe a tale to recount of Emily, who, in an attempt to help a friend out with a possible German, er, connection, suggested that he look deep into her eyes and declare “Sie haben sch?Ohren”. Unfortunately, Em is a little out of practice with her German, and upon (correct) translation, it was decided that “You have beautiful ears” probably wasn’t as endearing as what the man in question had hoped…