My favourite view

The One Where I Don’t Write Transitions

Here is a story about people being nice. Way back in March I saw the first half – but only the first half – of Interrogation. This was very frustrating, as a pretty crucial component of a whodunit is finding out who actually did it. I told this sad story at Grace’s farewell dinner last week at Saujanya’s (whose cooking is incredible, by the way) and it reminded me of my open email thread with the good people at The Artistic Home to clear things up. So I prodded them and, the next day, the full script of Scott Woldman’s Interrogation lay waiting in my inbox. It read beautifully. And now I know who did it! Thank you, kind theatre people.


Only one team had the requisite power and speed

Only one team had the requisite power and speed

We went back to another Cubs game with Todd and Carolyn – this time against the ‘Los Angeles’ Angels of Anaheim, with scale quotes added for Randi’s benefit and a naming controversy which ended up in court. But I digress. We went back to another Cubs game with Todd and Carolyn, but this time we sat in seats which didn’t fill me with any fear of being hit in the face with a baseball, and I enjoyed it immensely. Presumably the Cubs did too, because they won comfortably.


Held prisoner in my chair as I had my hair cut, I did finally see some of the Olympics through the demented breakfast-news lens of NBC. Sandwiched between advertisements and sponsorship messages came a feature on a sports charity doing great work for schools in Mozambique and the story of a ‘celebrity’ penguin who ‘mysteriously’ returns to the same beach in Rio each year. “THE OLYMPICS! IT’S BEHIND YOU!” I wanted to shout, pantomime fashion.


My favourite view

My favourite view

One direction from my new apartment affords a superb view of Chicago: the full city skyline, lying beyond the Metra tracks and the (less aesthetically pleasing, but representationally accurate) motorway. But it’s not my favourite view. Looking the other way, out from the corner of the window by the landing at the top of the stairs, are the backs of brick houses. This could be North London. This could be Carolyn’s back garden. And this makes me happy.

Natasha Self, Sue Buxton, Beth Dubowe-Lawrence, Catherine Tarsney liked this post

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