I am typing this from the Koru Lounge in Auckland International Airport waiting for my flight to Melbourne. I am using free wifi, drinking free red wine and eating free cheesy pasta surrounded by men furiously thrashing their laptops while drinking coffee, water and ginger beer. What is the point of being a Koru Club member if you don't indulge in the free booze? I just cannot understand these people. There is a whole fridge full of beer and you can help youself. You could even mix youself up a Screaming White Russian Orgasm On The Beach if you wanted. People are strange. If they had free KFC here I would be whipping up my own screaming orgasm but they don't so I'm settling for a semi-on.
It's been ages since my last post and so much has happened. My one-man in tights show played 8 shows to not as many people as I would have liked but I really liked the not many people. They were lovely and increased exponentially as the season went on which means if I had played for another week I could have filled Vector Arena I think. Anyway, the reviews were good and the updates to the show made it heaps better and much more melancholic and gave the character of 'Greg' a much more interesting journey. We also made it onto national television and you can watch it here. I'm particularly proud that my spontaneous forced faun fellatio with a statue of a goat made it to air, it's very Red Shoe Diaries.
So if you're reading this and you are a fringe festival producer or director please fly me to where you are and I'll do the show. I take my pants off during the show and am willing and happy to do this in the audition..or take your pants off...whatever it takes.
I have also completed the moving process and am very nearly in Melbourne. Moving is a horrid experience. Moving while trying to rehearse and rewrite a show is just really dumb. The amount of shit I had took my breath away. Nobody took up my generous offer of my purple dumbbells so I left them downstairs and some lucky tenant nabbed them within the hour. I left the worst vacumm cleaner in the world up for grabs and I pity the fool who takes that. It's like that cursed trampoline that Homer couldn't get rid of in The Simpsons. I bought it in Hamilton while I was there doing 'The Complete History of New Zealand' with Ben Barrington and Mark Hadlow on Ben's recommendation. If you've spent much time in Hamilton you know why all three of us were spending our days buying vacuum cleaners and George Foreman grills. This thing had a 'Turbo Head' which span around really fast. It was marketed as a Kambrook innovation but only served to spit all the stuff you wanted sucked back onto the carpet again. I'm gagging to make very rude comments about that last sentence but will resist because I am in the Koru Lounge surrounded by important people drinking Ginger Beer. The man drinking Ginger Beer is wearing pin-striped dungarees! He is American! I wonder if he is a fringe festival producer? I will take my pants off just in case.
Here is a photo of the empty apartment.
I will miss 2E 2-4 Lorne Street. So many good memories there, especially the time someone's table blew off the balcony of the 30th floor of the monlith to shit next door through the skylight. It's funny how once you've moved all your stuff out the space where you've spent the last six years of your life becomes just another empty apartment. Spaces are just spaces without faces you love.
Fuck...I must me getting drunk. I hope they let me on the plane.
Right-o, I will stop and take a moment to bid farewell to New Zealand until October when I return to direct a play back in the ol' hometown of ChurChur. I promise to get the internet set up asap in Melbourne and will bombard you with insightful musings on all things Aussie.
I'm not going back to spell check this puppy either so I apologise in advance....Australia fair. x