As usual, I half-heartedly resolved that this year I might do a bit more writing than last, but somehow life sort of got in the way and it hasn’t really worked out so far. To be fair, I did spend the first two weeks of the year suffering with the same cold that everybody else has (although thankfully not the norovirus, yet) but it was still enough to have me confined to bed on my first sick day in four years.
It is going to be a big year, though, with no shortage of stuff to write about, but that probably means that I’ll spend most of it actually doing exciting things and not so much of it writing about them. Ah well, hopefully at the very least I won’t stop taking pointless photographs…
Last night we made a last minute decision to go out and do something, so eschewing the chance to queue up all day to see some band play, Sal and I instead picked up some extremely cheap tickets to see the West End revival of Patrick Marber’s Dealer’s Choice.
I’d thoroughly recommend it, even if you don’t know anything about poker (and we certainly don’t). Great performances all round, although thanks to the wonders of typecasting I’m not sure quite how credible Roger Lloyd Pack can ever be in a serious role. Our cheap tickets also ended up being so close to the front that we were almost on the stage–close enough to smell the coffee and close enough to see that the cards being turned over in the poker games in the second half of the play all matched the ones in the script, which must take some planning (they subtly switch packs for each hand, but still…)