It's Later Now

So, Aussie Rules is finished, and, with it, the penultimate stage of my time in Oz. We are not entering the final chapter of my time here (I was gonna use the final chapter title from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz as the title for this post, but that's Home Again, which doesn't really suit this post, and the chapter before that is the rather esoteric (and spoilerish) Glinda the Good Witch Grants Dorothy's Wish, so I'll have to come up with something on my own). Granted, I have two assignments, one test and one exam to go before I'm done with uni, but I saw Aussie Rules as the last bastion of mid-exchange-year-Rory, a lad who could still sleep in if he wanted to, or take on a show, after all he'd have time later to see Oz- well, It's Later Now (ok, title found).
To mark this occasion, I have booked my tickets for New Zealand, and, even more excitingly, shaved my face. Yes, I took the advice of that drunk lady on the train and got a hair cut. Just not on my pate. I have a few other plans for my time here (hopefully Uluru and more penguins).

Ladies. 

Aussie Rules went very well; my hats off to Andrew for pulling off the frankly bizarre idea he pitched to me all the way back in October ('No, see, cos football is Islam...'). I had some one thank me personally for my performance and say he'd come specifically to see me (having been bowled over by me in Confetti and Everything) and honestly this was a lot more pleasant than the fan I had in Edinburgh, who walked up to me in the middle of the meadows and whispered 'multim olim' in my ear AT ONE IN THE FUCKING MORNING. But, yes, Aussie Rules was a success, and I'm proud to have it as my final impression upon the melbourne acting scene (though not the theatre scene in general- hello, BESTies).
Speaking of theatre, it was over two weeks ago, but I needs must mention the Amadeus pre-show sing-off. If only because I got to fulfill my dreams of singing 'American Pie', 'Moonriver', 'Blue Moon' and 'Mr. Sandman' before an extremely captive audience. Also, on the final night I did what can only be called an astonishing rendition of the song below.

Let that image burn into your retinas.

In other news, I skyped with Esmond on Friday, and it was lovely: we spoke for two and a half hours, and despite ten months apart, we still fell into conversation so easily. It's nice to know I'll have at least one friend when I return to the Great Wet North (I thought of that on Wednesday and by God, I'll get the mileage out of it).

In other other news, it was Victoria's birthday last Saturday, and, wouldn'tcha know, she had a sci-fi party, so naturally....

The very definition of a coquette.

What? You can't guess? I'm Poison Ivy from Batman and Robin. Duh. I mean, the hair's a little off, and I've really made no effort at all apart from holding a plastic flower and wearing a Batman-related T-shirt, but I think everyone can agree I've adequately captured the campy awfulness of that film.
The party was a lot of fun, and I got to see Victoria's assorted friends, probably for the last time before I head off; as Ryan North is wont to say, 'partying is such sweet sorrow'.

Last night was Eurovision here in Ozland, and, much like with the Olympics, I found myself the token pom in a group of Aussies watching something distinctly English. I got a lot of mileage out of the fact that no one gave us any points (it's all political, I tell ya), but I didn't realise how seriously the Antipodeans take the damn thing. Everyone, that is, except the closed captions guy, who added such delightful additions as 'you can guess what she said' and 'what's she gonna do with flowers? Put them down.'
Victoria, Aspen, Michael and myself were enraptured by the cheesiness, and I found Aspen's knowledge of past contestants to be vastly superior to my own, which isn't actually saying all that much, but she remembered 'I'm in love with a fairytale', which I only recall because it was the night I came out. Funny old world, innit?

Finally, when I was crossing the road this morning, my hood slipped (yes, it's finally started raining in Oz- laugh it up, Edinburghers), and when I lifted it, there was a car right in front of me. It was really very terrifying. I also realised I hadn't updated this thing in ages and I didn't want to die without you guys having heard my inane prattle for a month! Hence, this post.
Blame the hood.

After being bitten by a retroactive spider...

So, I've decided that this is my blog and I can do what I want and I'm gonna write a blog post a month after the fact, and what can all of you do about it?
(You may have noticed that there have been three different blog posts in the last two days- this is because I have an assignment due and it's never so easy to write as when you're meant to be doing something else.)

So, 24 hour play- Andrew encouraged me to do it, and I'm so glad I did. It's not the first such endeavor I've undertaken, but it's the first time I've been on the acting side of the coin. As you will see at the end, this was quite a debut.
The 24 hour plays at Melbourne are structured differently to those of Bedlam (fancy that!). For one thing, things are much more randomised; writers and directors find each other in a weird mating ritual involving blindfolds, a circle of onlookers and, at least in my case, a half-eaten mannequin with the word 'Kerrick' scrawled on it (and, honestly, all the best rituals do); each writer/director pair is then assigned the number of actors to which they will have access using dice. I decided to join group number one because a) I wanted to meet new people and thus, sadly, not team up with Andrew and b) I hadn't spoken for, like, eight minutes and that's just too long.

As you can see, I chose the cheery bunch.

Group number one would later become B.E.S.T., whom I believe I have posted about before- they consisted of Laura, David, Wilson, Maddi, a third Daniel, a second Declan and a first Greta. Declan was our director, Wilson our writer. We were then assigned, through the use of slips of paper in various hats, a random object (a paintbrush), a starting location (a wedding), an event that must happen over the course of the play (someone winning something) and two words we must include ('clutter' and 'hydrocarbon') he concocted for us a dark comedy called 'confetti and everything'. Set in a post-apocalyptic wasteland and concerning the adventures of a princess and a painter, I played an alcoholic priest and...well, I won't spoil it.

Over the course of the rehearsals, I acquired several new in-jokes ('mazel tov' and 'deep inside death' being the primary among them), some new friends and a badass top hat, which I sadly didn't just steal for myself. Definitely worth the eleven hours' rehearsing, I feel. 

So, without further adieu, gracious ladies, obliging gentlemen, and, of course, Jari, I present to you, Confetti and Everything.