I'm one of those awkward airport people, the ones who wander aimlessly around, alone, with their over sized, over packed, bursting at the seams suitcase. The ones who turn up at the airport far too early (12 hours too early in this case) and so, spend their time jumping from one cafe/restaurant/seating area to the next to avoid looking lonely and too early.. Yes, I know I'm too early. I'm the girl at the airport who sits on her phone and makes the face of someone who's receiving a text that reads 'see you at the airport soon.' you know, so I look like I'm meeting someone or someone's coming to see me off. But today I'm not meeting someone, and no one is coming to see me off. Sad face. I'm the awkward girl at the airport whose suitcase opens up unexpectedly and spits out a pair of pants and neon green shades (not shades I personally bought, oh no, shades kept simply for comedy value after finding them on a drunken night out. They're vile) I've got odd socks on, pulled up above my ankles, above the top of my Docs. My tights are ripped. My hair is half up, half down with a big pink rose sticking out of the messy top knot. My skin is weary from lack of sleep and too much drink. My cheap jewellery is turning my fingers green. And I'm wearing a Topman hoody I found on the street a week ago. I'm a real sight. I've got furry teeth and chewing gum is not putting the hard work in to make them clean. I've got a tea stain on my skirt. And as I sit at this table, amongst three business men, I'm struggling to decide how to sit. Cross legged? Cool looking? Elbows on table? My glasses keep slipping down my nose and as I push them back up with my index finger, my nose crinkles. I'm also hungry, despite the intake of food today :
• two waffles
• potato smiley faces
• sushi
• duck wrap
• chocolate bar
• wham bar
• pizza express pesto pizza
• chocolate fudge ice cream sundae
AND a caramel Freddo
Fucking glasses! Stay up!
So at 6:10am I will be checking in at Edinburgh airport, with fingers crossed that my suitcase doesn't weigh too much over the weight limit. At 7:10am I will wave goodbye to Edinburgh and fly out of this bubble I've been in for six weeks and into reality.
The Fringe has been.... Insane.
On the 21st July I flew up here with expectations of hard work and free theatre. I now sit at the airport, 31st August, wandering what just happened for 42 days of my life! My expectations were well and truly crushed. Hard work is an understatement. Free theatre was an accurate expectation but little did I know on the 21st just how much free theatre I would be attending. A total of.... When I last checked, 50 shows!! Some horrendous... Some good.... Some very good... And a couple OUTSTANDING!!
21st July I arrive in Edinburgh with good skin, healthy liver, clean socks, un-ripped tights and energy. I'm greeted on the first day with blazing sunshine and a very friendly taxi driver who said "aye, you're working at the Fringe. You're gunna need a lot of coffee and cigarettes" I smiled and laughed this comment off, thinking "I always need coffee and cigarettes, this won't be any different." HE WAS RIGHT. I WAS WRONG.
I was nervous/excited and wide-eyed when he dropped me off at 'CMain, Adams House' - the main venue of Cvenues. Keys collected and introductions of myself to some other suitcase holders hanging around looking just as anxious. Introductions done and the typical questions asked and answered..
"Where are you from? And what are you studying? Oh cool. How old?" Back and forth until you reach that point where you realise you've had the same small talk with about 20 different people and you only remember one of their names by the end of it. I ended up at the pub with about 15 of these people I had asked questions and forgotten the answers, but that was fine because I was sure at the time they had forgotten my name too. We had an hour to kill before having to have a meeting so we went to a pub called The Tron. Had my first Scottish pint, paid with Scottish wonga. Felt... like a tourist. Before going to the pub... I had managed to remember one lass' name... Tash. Don't know why, perhaps it was the shocking short red hair or excessive amount of piercings in her right ear.. I just remembered her name and so walked by her side to the pub. Not knowing then that I'd be spending every waking minute with her for the whole 6 weeks.
After pub and meeting, everyone went to their flats and began to pre-drink before stumbling to a place called The Hive, or as I would put it, 'The shit hole that smells like sweat and cheap sex'.
Needless to say after 5 months of not drinking, I was trashed rather quicky... in a bad way...
Moving on..
This half of the blog is written from home.. after spending the night at the airport.
I am now in Plymouth, safe and sound and tired as hell.
Blog continues...
Originally I was meant to be a 'FOBO', as was Tash : That's 'front of house and box office' ... But when we were told there were spaces left to be a Space Technician I jumped at the chance, having never used a lighting or sound desk in my life, I was super eager to do a job I'd actually learn something from... Instead of six weeks of ushering and ripping tickets.
I managed to also convince Tash to be a space tech instead of a fobo!
We ended up being based at the same venue for the entire festival with each other and shared a studio! It must've been fate #wink-face#ha.
I also forced her to move into our flat after about a week of being in Edinburger.
I managed to also convince Tash to be a space tech instead of a fobo!
We ended up being based at the same venue for the entire festival with each other and shared a studio! It must've been fate #wink-face#ha.
I also forced her to move into our flat after about a week of being in Edinburger.
Here's Tash during the 'get in' at ECA, working really hard.
This particular photo was taken just after we were asked to measure a bit of wood (a pretty simple task you might think? not for a natural blond and a girl who spends 18 hours of the day with a tube of foundation and a mirror in her hands) H.I.L.A.R.I.O.U.S..
Day shifts consisted of pretty hard work, but nothing to soul destroying, the odd paint job here and rigging a light if necessary. Night shifts however were a fucking joke : endless amounts of taping chairs, cables, painting steps with gold paint that cost £170!!!! and a complete unsure mind of when we would actually be allowed to go home... 3am? 4am perhaps. here's a pic of Maria, Aliki and myself on day shift... notice my Docs painted with the expensive paint... yeah, fuck you Cvenues. I'm taking back for all the hard work I put in.
Worst part of the Fringe : The get in. Even though we had the best team at ECA.
When the festival actually started it was absolutely incredible.
Time went so quickly, as did money.
Me and Tash were lucky enough to have a company called Applespiel bring a show up to Cvenues in our studio .. Studio C. They were all the way from Sydney and ended up being our faves EVER!!!
They had a massive goodbye breakfast with us and gave us t-shirts and a bottle of wine.
There's much more I could write about the 6 weeks, but it would take me forever, so I'm just going to narrow it down to highlights...
Fire!!
HIGHLIGHTS OF MY EDINBURGER FRINGE FESTIVAL 2012
* Having Applespiel in our studio
* Eating shit food every day
* Meeting so many incredible people
* Having a nice flat (not the fucking mattress on the floor.)
* Seeing over 50 shows FOR FREE
* Going out
* When Roisin came to visit
* Pizza hut
* Lynn
* The fact Lucy Bishop was also up in Edinburger... she just can't keep away from me
* The beautiful weather we had for pretty much the whole festival
* Learning how to use a lighting desk and sound bored
* How easy my job was when the Get In was over
* Sleeping in the sun
* Being at the nicest venue
* How busy it got EVERYWHERE
* The vintage market on the GrassMarket
* Free Soda water at C bars
* The crepes
Quotes/sayings
SWEDGER
SAINSBS?
PIZZA?
Look mother, a funny shaped cloud.
Fucking 18p noodles
You can do it
Go ROUNDABOUT PEER
I am a werewolf at night
Rock & Roll
That was vile.....ent
No Phil
Bottle of wine in Bonnie's?
I'm too drunk... No I am, I'm going home.
I want cheesy chips.
I'm getting cheesy chips.
I got cheesy chips.
Not sure how I survived the 6 weeks.
Will be back at the festival next year, but this time I'll be in a show, not taping chairs for the audience of someone else' show.
DETERMINED!
Bit of a poorly written blog, but I'm terribly tired and I really can't sum the last 6 wees up in written form.
It's been..emotional.
draining.
rewarding.
frustrating.
confusing.
incredibubble.
Literally feels so weird to be home now... as if the festival never happened.
BUBBLE BURST
BACK IN THE REAL WORLD
Want another holiday now.
Paris Tash?
Peace out mother bloggers.
No comments:
Post a Comment