Met up with Matthew Dewsbury tonight for the first time since August/September. He’s just finished his two year, part time writing course and was a bit bummed about it, but it seems he’s got a lot out of it and produced some decent work. It’s heartening to know he struggles with the work/writing balance and it’s not just me who’s messing it up.
However, he has managed to write what’s seems to be a 2 hour radio play, about his uni experiences. I’d be quite keen to see how that one turned out…(not just for the potential narcissistic biographical potential). Otherwise, he’s been mostly writing about luck, a topic we spent a little while discussing (mostly how bad timing is a bitch) before I had to head off for Young Miss Clayton’s birthday. We did make pre-plan-plans to do an Exeter 1st Year meet up, which I’d be “well up” for.
Got to Kanika’s around 9, feet soaked but other wise jolly. However, it was a classic “don’t know anyone there” birthday, and I think I over compensated with some outrageous comment about how irrelevant theatre is. Wrong crowd that. However, managed to bed in a little and got onto the mid 20s classic topic of dating. More specifically, the inability to know when a date is a date. I appear to go against the general consensus that it’s always a bit tricky. Are they wrong, or have I just been massively naive? Either way, one girl there had a guy take her to KFC on a first date, which is probably one of the ballsiest moves I’ve heard of. Worked too…kudos that man.