The Secret Festival Diary of the Napkin Diaries...
The Napkin Diaries
By Paula Pistol
The Secret Festival Diary of the Napkin Diaries, Part One
Friday, 8.30am: Walk to work, bit hungover after evening out at Bodega trying to drunkenly reconstruct songs from Guy Capper’s “The City of Organisms” show at Bats earlier.
Friday, 9.45am: Arrive at work late, after bumping into two out-of-town friends working on Festival shows, stopping to watch muscle-bound movers construct a pile of red furniture at Civic Square gateway, and running into Sarah Barr, who is walking a bit funny after spending three and a half hours with little leg space at the dress rehearsal of the Telecom Opera, Der Rosenkavalier. Or that's why she says she's walking funny.
Friday, 6.30pm: Home, shower, out to Cuba Street.
Friday, 7.30pm: Waiting for “Fash Trash” to start.
Friday, 8.25pm: Can’t wait for “Fash Trash” to start any longer, as theatres beckon. Wanda Martini and Sarah at “Stones in his pockets” melting over the Irish accents. Gita at “Leitmotiv” trying to concentrate on beautiful visuals despite noisy drama school students applauding ecstatically every two seconds. Me at “Hunchback of Notre Dame”. Graham Fletcher very limber.
Friday, 10.30pm: Quick look up Cuba, then dragged off to Dans Paleis by Max Stout to meet cute actors and dancers from overseas. End up stuck in corner with cute actors and dancers I already know from New Zealand.
Saturday, 9.00am: Up early and out in raincoat to catch up on office work before launching self into thick of Cuba St Carnival. But first, quick coffee on Cuba St.
Saturday, 2.00pm: Still on Cuba Street. Sarah Barr having birthday drinks at Imbibe while man on stage creates feedback with didgeridoo. Attempting paperwork now probably not shush a great idea…
Saturday, 5.00pm: Schtill on Cuba Street. Cloudboy being all ethereal and clever, as usual. Mmm, beer. Invent new drinking game: scull sponsored beer whenever one of us spots Chris Morley-Hall.
Saturday, 5.02pm: Scull.
Saturday, 6.00pm: Kebab. Scull.
Saturday, 9.30pm: Lost a few hours looking for Wanda, who was looking for me. Gita staying put in beer tent next to Fidel’s as our homing beacon (but really because she can’t walk anymore due to excellent but inappropriate shoes). Parade in full flight. Scull. Fat Freddy’s Drop also in full flight. Mmm, Dallas.
Saturday, 11.55pm: Very happy to find drty old Trinity Roots still on-stage. Gita has found her dancing feet again. Wanda feeling the love. Sarah headed to Dans Paleis to meet cute international actors and dancers.
Sunday, 1.00am: Gita, Wanda and me still dancing to T Roots, despite Gita’s twisted ankle. Peter Biggs walks past in penguin suit. Sarah texts: “@ Dns Palay. Sndwchd btwn cute intntnl actrs & dncrs. Gt here now!”
Sunday, 3.00am: Arrive Dans Paleis. Sarah sandwiched between cute international actors and dancers. Too drunk and excited to introduce us to her new friends.
Sunday, 9.00am: Weather comes right. Plan to head back to Cuba St for last day of carnival.
Sunday, 5.00pm: Wake up. Shower. Eat. Head to Bats for last night of Duncan Sarkies talking about self amusingly.
Monday, 8.30am: Walk to work, bit hungover after evening out at Bats....