"A Piss Stained, Piss Poor Country . . ."

So I'm back from a busy weekend in London with considerably lighter pockets.

I managed to cram 4 shows into 3 days and all for the grand total of £94.50. Some where considerably better than others but, we'll get to that.

Firstly 4 shows for £94.50.

They weren't shit seats either. Front row, center-mid stalls and centre dress circle - not too shabby considering these seats normally range from £60 to £85.

I should have spent about £200 plus, but thanks to the miracle of days seats (and some very lovely box office people) I didn't even hit triple figures. 'MAZIN.

So for a break down.

Jersey Boys

The tale of Frankie valli and the Four Seasons. It's been on my to-view list for a while but, its a jukebox and quite frankly, there are better more original shows out there. But Phantom was sold out of cheap seats and Richard Blackwood was still in Shrek so I kinda had no option.

I got all excited cos my program listed Ryan Molloy as playing Frankie Valli, and yer know, he's pretty fuckin' awesome. But when the curtain went up, Jon from S-Club 7 appeared and made me all confused.

No preshow announcement, just a wee note in the programme - at some performances the role of Frankie Valli will be played by Jon Lee. Annoying to say the least.

Not a great deal to say about this show. Lots and lots of songs. Typical jukebox audience who think that 'cos they know the songs they're entitled to sing along.

But all in all, good. The band should deffo get a shout out 'cos they were AMAZIN. Surprisingly this was also noted by the audience who didn't rush to leave and actually stood and applauded the orchestra after the curtain call. (Aberdeen audiences take note por favor!)

Once you've seen it, you've seen it. I won't be going back but I would recommend a visit. Even while Jon from S-Club is in it. He's bloody good.

Crazy for You

Me and the new flatmate made our traditional (well, we did it last year too) trip to Regent's Park open Air theatre to see their production of Crazy for You.

The weather held out, for the most part, and the show went on. The dancing in this show was crazy, tap numbers galore (it is Gershwin after all) and PERFECT synchronisation. The set was clever and the costumes bloody gorgeous.

There's rumours of a transfer to the Novello which is awesome for a wee open air production. Probably wouldn't see this production again, just because the atmosphere of and open air show cannot be recaptured in a housed production, but you'd be missing out if you didn't give it a shot.

Betty Blue Eyes

Holy. Shit.
THIS is the standard that all new musicals should aspire to. Witty dialogue, tear jerking performances and gorgeous songs.

The fact that its closing is horrific. The fact that Mackintosh didn't pull his finger out and get a cast recording made and released earlier on in its run is fucking criminal. A sentiment shared by Sarah Lancashire, who played the female lead Joyce Summers, whom we met at stage door.

The show is charming, heartfelt and so completely joyous you walk out of it feeling that you can take on anything in life.

There is not a single bad comment I can make about this production save for the fact that each and every one of its marketing team members should be strung up. Few TV appearances, hardly any marketing outside of London and hardly any publicity surrounding the fact that Sarah Lancashire, Reece Shearsmith and Adrian Scarborough were all leads. And they weren't even stunt-casted. Each and everyone of them brought something to the show.

I can only hope that after pouring a lot of money into buying an animatronic pig, the producers give it a second chance on tour.

The Wizard of Oz

First of all, don't judge me. I love the film and have played Dorothy so I was dying to see what a professional production would look like.

Frankly, it was all a bit panto.

We got the understudy, Sophie Evans, for Dorothy who was lovely. Played the role perfectly to be honest. In fact, you can't fault the performance at all.

To blame for the gaudy spectacle are the people who decided what a 72 year old classic needed was some new songs, and that the Wicked Witch of the West needed to be sexed up a bit, and her minions needed to writhe around to a nightmarish polka number.

Fucks. Sake.

We only spent £15 on our tickets and I'm glad. If I'd have paid full price I'd have reported the Really Useful Group for theft. It wasn't memorable, it wasn't groundbreaking, it was a mess. Which is a shame, because the cast were all fantastic (except the children, who I could've done without) and really looked like they were having an ace time.

"Scaramouche! Scaramouche! Will you do the fandango?"

We Will Rock You.

A very bold claim for anything to make, let alone a musical based on the back catalogue of Queen.

But, fair do's, my tickets were free. So I shouldn't complain.

Does NOT mean I won't though.

First, the fact that the set and costumes looks like they were sponsored by some sort of collaboration between Dixons and your local S&M store. TV screens as set are friggin lazy. Charging people £45 a ticket to sit and watch a massive television show pictures of deserts and rivers for just over 2 and a half hours is down right rude. As is advertising it as a family friendly show and having the female ensemble dick about in their underwear for the majority of it.

Secondly, when did musicals stop needing plots?
Plot seems to have fallen out of favour circa 1999 with the birth of M*mm* M**. (No, I can't even bring myself to say it.)

Having seen it now about 10 times (not paying once) the story seems to be something like, its the future, all non-autotuned and manufactured music is banned, this guy hears song lyrics in his dreams and thinks they'll make good songs, he finds a load of "bohemians" (haha!) who celebrate music from "the good ol' days" and finds out about Queen, he then finds Brian May's guitar, plays We Will Rock You, then him and the cast do encore after encore and leave the stage 2 and a half hours later.

In summary. Shite.

Finally, the MAHOOSIVE PLOT HOLE.

If all man made rock and roll music is banned, how the hell do the main characters get away with not only singing Queen, but singing it with a live band?
For anyone who hasn't seen the show, this often happens when they are onstage with members of "Globalsoft" the folks who make the rules and make sure people obey them.

It makes my head hurt.

The only redeeming feature is the quality of the cast. Props going to Amanda Coutts who played Scaramouche, an enormous voice for a tiny tiny person. Props also going to Noel (of of Hearsay) Sullivan who played Gallileo for having a nice car but failing to signal in it and nearly knocking me off the pavement in it. My waistcoat's pretty hard to miss mate!

'nother redeeming feature: Brian May, who came out on press night (that's why my tickets were free) and played the guitar solo for Bohemian Rhapsody. Even if it was right at the very end meaning I had to actually sit through the show first, that's one of those moments in life that are pretty fucking special. Noel from Hearsay couldn't believe his luck, first performing for Nicki Chapman and now Brian bloody May! Just look at his face on that picture.

We said goodbye to the show on Saturday in't 'Deen. I believe they're heading to Birmingham for 5 weeks next, but if you must see it it's on at the Dominion Theatre in London running from now til the end of effin' time.

One can only hope that Freddie wasn't a musical loving gay.

"Shaggy, Matty, Greasy, Oily . . ."

About 4 weeks ago I made THE most diastrous hairstyle decision since I was about eleven and decided I wanted to look like Buffy.

11 year old obese females from Lancashire are NEVER going to look like Sarah Michelle Gellar, especially when she has naturally straight and obedient hair, and they have something like a cross between a jew-fro and a springer spaniel.

Having not learned from my previous mistakes I decided that now would be a good time to get a fringe.
I've had many fringes before, but these have been mainly your yellow bellied kind, a chicken fringe if you will, as they've always been to the side.

Over Easter, I went for a full blown, blunt edge, eye-lash skimming, bloody awful fringe.

FML.

Reasons why this was a bad decision.

1) My hair has a natural side parting. The fring tends to part like lopsided curtains.

2)When it rains or I exercise (Yeah! I do that now!) it transforms itself into a mess of curls.

3)IT MAKES THE MOON FACE MOONIER!

Seriously! I didn't think number three was even possible. Turns out, it is.

The fringe isn't the only issue.

I went with specific instructions to the hairdresser.

"No more than 2 and a half inches off the bottom, please."

Bearing in mind my hair fell about three inches below my chest, this would have kept its length and balanced out the fringe:moon ratio for my face.

Turns out she obviously couldn't fathom what 2 and a half inches looked like as now my hair falls about half an inch above my tits.

Nae. Happy.

Apologies for a fairly boring post, but where the hell else am I supposed to vent my rage and ten to one in the morning?

I'm looking at wigs as we speak.

Great rates for cancer patients, but I'm not sure it's that serious an issue.

Mine'll grow back at least.

"Your looks are laughable, unphotographable but you're my favourite work of art . . ."

Things I've learned whilst being in a relationship.

1) Valentine's day can be nice.

2) People's surprised faces when you say "I have a boyfriend" are funny.

and

3) I will get up at 3am and walk across town in the rain for sex.

Lets deal with number one shall we?

I have always always liked the idea of Valentine's day. Guys taking a risk and actually saying how they feel, even if it is through a tacky as hell card or a bouquet of petrol station flowers or a box of cheap heart shaped chocolates, is really really sweet. And anyways, the thought and sentiments are there and that's enough. (Granted, if your other half shows up with any of these items on any other day of the year its probs because he's been sticking it somewhere he shouldn't but, I digress.)

To be fair though, I'd never actually experienced a Valentine's day as a part of a relationship until 2 days ago, so, I very much had had the typical RomCom Single Girl experience, except without the witty dialogue or the ability to pay a personal trainer and dietitian to help me lose the "Bridget padding." In short, I had no problem with the idea of love being displayed gaudily in public for just one day of the year.

So this year my expectations weren't much different.

I didn't actually hear off of the boyfriend until 4pm in the form of a text message that read:

La Tasca? 6pm X

Odd now that I think about it. No mention of Valentine's day whatsoever. You'd think a romantic like myself would have freaked out, started sobbing or comfort eating or both but, nah.

I replied with a simple:

Ta. See you there :) X

Tres laid back.

I didn't put much effort into getting ready.

Sort've showered, did my face, sorted my hair, put on a frock and was doing my lippie when someone knocked on my bedroom door at 5.30.

Dickhead didn't wait for me to say come in, just opened the door to reveal himself all done up with a bouquet of roses in one hand and a huge parcel in the other.

I practically jumped him there and then. But waited until the flowers where safely in some water and the present had been unwrapped.

Boy did good.

The present was equal parts cute and filthy. Moi to a tee.

We then went and did your typical date; ate together and watched some people do some acting on a big screen, before heading back to mine.

It was lovely.

Romantic, but not overly soppy.

I'm pleased to report that there was no PDA, apart from when the bitch of a waitress flirted with him. There may have been a bit of hand holding to mark one's territory, but that was all.

All in all a good night.

And I didnt have to walk across town at 3am to get the goods 'cos they were within reach all night long.

"I Heard Somebody Say . . . Burn Baby Burn"

Being President of a Musical Society is no mean feat. Especially when that society is "Treading the Boards."

First of all there's the election process; writing your speech, trying to persuade people that you're not going to ruin the company, trying to make yourself funnier and more appealking than the other candidates. Sounds easy, sure, but remember that this is me, the awkward-everyone-must-love- me-or-I'll-die-and-I-want-everything-so-badly-I'll-explode-if-I-don't-get-it me.

Then of course when you get elected there's organising your committee, making sure your production team stay on target and don't act like a bunch of wankers all the time and making sure you don't run out of money.

The latter is possibly the most important.

Musicals eat money like Charlie Sheen's prostitute problem and are far less rewarding.

They also swallow all of your free time. If I'm not studying or working chances are I'm in the dance studio running a scene/number/routine for the umpteenth time.

This year, our marvelous production team decided to do "Disco Inferno" a romp through the 70's jukebox catalogue. Yup. Its as a gay as it sounds.

Somehow I managed to land a lead who wasn't a fat chick (I know right!?) but actually a vamp - I got to get my boobs out and everything - A far cry from the Scumshaw days of playing a mute obese best friend. Not that I'm not over that . . . obviously.

We auditioned, casted, rehearsed and staged this show with a total of 30 numbers in just under five months, which is impressive considering at least 1 month of that was what's known as "dead rehearsals" where you might as well not have bothered showing up because no one else has.

This was due to the ever fascinating Aberdeen am-dram scene having swallowed up our males, not, I might add, as filthy as it sounds. There's only a very limited number of lads in the Deen who for one actually like theatre and who can then actually sing and sort of dance. It follows then that every company in the city wants them and they end up doing more than 1 show at a time, picking and choosing which rehearsals they want to attend and making their castmates lives a living hell for 2 or 3 months.

But the show went on and on and on for two and a half hours every night for a week and sold lots of tickets. And got a rave review. And was nominated for local awards. And was voted the number one thing to do in Aberdeen.

All in all pretty epic.

Then we all got wasted at the aftershow at my place.

I love my TTBers to pieces.

But God I am more than willing to step down at the election come May. 1 year is more than enough.

Maybe next year I'll take up a more relaxing hobby like watercolour painting or crocheting?

Yeah Right. . . . I'm allergic to paint.