Stinky cold. Exacerbated by yesterday taking S to the South Bank when really I should've stayed home. Had a good time with McK and Nora though, idling in the members' room at Tate Modern. McK is a sceptic when it comes to all this new-fangled art, but I took him to the room with lots of Soviet propaganda posters and he was well impressed. S and Nora well impressed with groovy wooden benches, just perfect for climbing on.
Later at NT I picked up tickets for Tristan and Yseult, am going again and taking B and her parents, who saw Kneehigh's Bacchae in Bristol and raved about it. They've treated me to some cracking shows in the past. The latest was the revival of Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake, and there've been crowd-pleasers like Noises Off and Anything Goes. Evenings at the theatre with the ins are always jolly affairs, featuring picnics in the foyer and much rustling of choccy wrappers in the auditorium. Dad-in-law loved the Cinderella me and Erica did at Southwark and is dismayed to learn I'm writing a tragedy. One with no jokes in it. And a Virgin Mary fixation.
Read Emma Frost's play Airsick. Liked it very much. Met her recently (she's a friend of bro-in-law Toby) and gathered she's very busy writing for film and tv these days, which is a loss to us theatre spods but since she has the requisite style in spades, and a strong voice to boot, why not?
ps Good luck to Liverpool Football Club and all its supporters - including little sister, traitor that she is - just for today. They're playing AC Milan in the European Cup Final tonight in Istanbul. (Evertonians might be interested in this, though.)