Tuesday, September 06, 2011

Edinburgh Fringe 2011: The One With The Best Bits

I'm going to write up a couple of actually thought out blogs about making work at the Edinburgh Fringe (and, since it's one of my pet blogging topics, about REVIEWING in Edinburgh) but, first up, I thought I'd get my personal memories out of the way. I've even made a playlist of what my Edinburgh Fringe sounded like because this is what I do.

(Okay, I realise it is some months since I have blogged and now I am all back and - hey - this is what I've been doing when I've not been blogging, without so much as a hello, how are you? Yes. I am a bad person. And, rightly or wrongly, I assume most of you have been bored by me talking on twitter about the show)

So:

For me, Edinburgh Fringe 2011 was...

Wet clothing. Shoes in the airing cupboard. Running down streets and slipping on cobbles.

Truth or Dare. Jellybeans and Designer Emily’s reign of (almost) terror.

Paper planes.

Bedlam Parties that started at 3am and threw us out into the street at 7. Dancing, arms flailing, to Misters Jones and Brightside. Shrieking “WHERE’S [BILLYTHEKID]?” during Alice Cooper.

The Girls’ Dorm and deciding that the number of people living in (and connected to) our flat gave us optimum gossip capacity.

Giving code names to everyone and then giggling whenever someone shrieked “LEMONADE”.

In general, departing from my most-of-my-close-friends-are-boys-stance to spend more time with a group of girls than I have since the early part of this century and loving every second of it (though noting it made me more “girly” than I normally am).

Seeing how, from night to night, the ebb and flow of laughter for Perils changed but every audience found the joke about Italians funny.

A lady leaving a comment on our page in the Bedlam book to say she was Italian (complete with a drawing of a boat).

Shedding a tear during Vertigo and Gomito breaking my heart a little bit with some ribbon and a pair of scissors.

But, in contrast to Fringes 09 and 10, not crying because I was actually sad.

(Though) Getting so angry one evening that, in the throes of THE RAGE, I attempted to get into the wrong flat.

Having, as of 29th August, 41 bruises.

People actually texting our “How’s My Sailing?” phone number.

Getting a Bryonny Kimmings ticket as a (very) belated birthday present (!) and proclaiming loudly to all who would listen how much I LOVE her and, indeed, sort of want to be her (and not just because we’re headscarf twins).

The night of the “I’m kinda busy up here/ friendless bastard” adlib.

Hot chocolate at Elephant and Bagels, cider in C SoCo Gardens, rum and (full fat) coke on the floor of the living room in our flat, coffee at Black Medicine, red wine (and couscous) in a cafe where we thoroughly confused the waitressing staff and a lot of vodka in the beer garden at the Three Sisters, Brass Monkey and the Library Bar.

Cake and coffee at Bedlam Cafe at any possible excuse.

The “Team Perils” lexicon: OHP!, Graeme Wins!, what a guy!, Well done [insert name]! (it seems we spent the month using exclamation marks almost exclusively) .

The phenomenon of “Bedleg”.

Staying up too late, drinking tea and sharing life stuff with someone I didn’t really know before Edinburgh.

THE BLOODY WHEAT.

Talking about Opera with someone who writes for The Guardian (Ha! How it has changed since the days of this blog post)

Discovering two thirds of the way through our stay that our flat had a mouse. Disapproving greatly of him being named “Peter”.

The "how many stars?" debacle.

The changing tunes of “Radio Get-In”.

Leaving Edinburgh (and phone reception) for 24 hours and, on re-discovering signal, finding out the only messages I had were about A HAIRCUT.

Proclaiming BillyTheKid the calmest director I have ever worked with during The Long Night of The Soul When The Projector Died.

Bumping into people who I haven’t seen for some time, including someone I haven’t seen since Oxford.

Playing Fringe Bingo (“DRINK!”) and being proud that the only cliché in Perils’ blurb is that it is a “fairy tale”.

Accidentally getting BCBoy into trouble in the Bedlam Tech Box because I over-enthusiastically (read: semi-drunkenly) jumped on his back when he wasn’t expecting it.

Apologising profusely about the above incident and being repeatedly told it absolutely wasn’t my fault and that it was BCBoy who was in trouble. And thus feeling even more guilty.

(Standing outside Bedlam at 7:15am explaining to BCBoy that he is, quite simply, an easier blame target than me)

Giving BillyTheKid a congratulations card and being told it was “gay”.

BillyTheKid giving me a card which almost made me cry and him rolling his eyes at this.

Tech Xander giving me his hoodie (for the second time in less than a week), even though it meant he was sitting outside – in Edinburgh - at 3am in just a t-shirt (“that’s really sweet” “No, it’s to stop your whinging”), everyone saying I looked like Little Red Riding Hood in it and this pleasing me more than anyone could have anticipated.

Getting RSI (almost) from stapling quotes to hundreds of flyers.

Lying in the road outside Bedlam on our final morning in Edinburgh.

Coldplay jokes.

The Psychology of Flyering (Perils Edition).

THE BLOODY BOAT.

The final breakfast.

Being ridiculously (sickeningly) proud of Team Perils.

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