Been feeling a little nostalgic over the last few days. The Final Fantasy story I told last night was just one of the things I’ve been remembering. I’ve been finding all sorts of other crap around the place recently – one of the most recent rediscoveries was a cardboard document wallet containing some play scripts, posters and a few other bits and pieces from when I was at university. I love finding old playscripts in particular, because we always used to scribble all over them and sign them on the last night of a performance. I’m glad we always did that, because it means I have great keepsakes like this. Ignore the dreadful attempt to draw Cloud Strife that is inexplicably on the front page.
Four points about these pages:
1. I have no idea what the stains are.
2. Yes, I am aware my script is bound using duct tape.
3. Don’t try and email “Costume Lucy”. She’s not there any more.
4. The “makeup” mentioned in several of the comments is referring to this:
(I’m the one on the right.) My mother inexplicably told me that me being dressed like this reminded her of my Grandad. I don’t remember my Grandad ever looking like that, unless I didn’t know him that well. (Yes, Mum, I know that wasn’t what you really meant.)
My time with the Theatre Group at Southampton University is one of the things I most fondly remember from my past. One day we’ll manage that reunion that Anja and I are always talking about. Maybe even this year. Who knows?
Also found in said folder:
Programme from an episode of Songs of Praise that our extremely non-religious secondary school attended, signed by Diane Louise Jordan of Blue Peter fame.
Programmes from other productions I was in – our extremely over-budget, ambitious, futuristic Macbeth from the time when everything had to look like the Matrix; our first attempt at taking a show up to the Edinburgh Fringe (A Month in the Country by Turgenev, performed outside. Not the wisest decision, but it was fun.)
My second attempt at freewriting from when I first found out about it – dated 16/9/01 at 21:36.
My “P” for “passed” plates for my car (which I never put on the car, because having “P” plates on is an invitation for other drivers to treat you like even more of an arse than they do already)
And, finally, this delightful 20th birthday card, hand-made for me by my friends Sam and Chris.
Rediscovering stuff like this is awesome.
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