Fifty (part one)

You may be confused by this post's title as, if you look to the right and add together the number of posts from 2013 and 2014, you will find they in fact come to 49. You may also be confused by the fact that this post seems to be the first part of a two-parter when the narrative seems to come to a very definite conclusion at the end of this post. Allow me to allay both these confusions at once: this, the 49th Devil's Ink Pots post, is titled Fifty (part one) because, added together with the next post, its second half, it will be the fiftieth post.
Kind of.
You could, of course, argue that they will in fact both be one extended 49th post, and thus the title is not appropriate for either of them, but I wanted this post to be called Fifty, and to be considered as the fiftieth post, for a reason that will become apparent in a moment. And, besides, if you count the post that Rachel forbid me from posting, this would be number fifty anyway, so let's just think of it like that.

I wanted this post to be number fifty, because last night the number of theatrical productions I had been directly involved in since starting university reached fifty. And it was wonderful.

I tried to make a big '50' out of the posters of all the plays I've been in, but it looked awful- if someone with an eye for graphic design wants to make one for me, that'd be swell.

A professional actor mistook me for a professional playwright and, upon discovering that I was still a student, assumed that naturally this was the career path I was going to take. If I could go back and talk to myself after the second time I failed production merit, I'd just tell myself that.
The show got a lot of laughs, which I was really thankful for, because when I was writing it, I really wasn't sure how some of the dialogue would sound spoken aloud; it also received one gasp of genuine indignation at some harsh words spoken during an argument, which I was so, so happy about because the line was one of the nastiest things I've ever written.
Wrapped in an Enigma was directed by Jen McGregor, and starred Susanna Mulvihill, David McFarlane, Alexander Staniforth and William Mitchell; much like when I gave Rob and Roberta to the B.E.S.T.ies, I'm so grateful that such talented people took the time to tackle my work. I know I'm gushing, but I just don't care.

Wrapped in an Enigma, the fiftieth piece to which I have contributed, and the 15th contribution to the Kelly Canon, was about an unemployed woman becoming obsessed with trying to find out the name of one of her one night stands, to the exclusion of all else. Jari, who is about the only person half as interested in the Kelly Canon as I am, has pointed out that, recently, all my protagonists have been shiftless, unemployed losers, usually mooching off of someone else, and desperately trying to stave off adult life. The fact that this shift has coincided with my inevitable transition from student to shiftless, unemployed loser myself will of course be of great interest to future Kelly scholars, and I just know a great many papers will be written about that fact.

There were three other brilliant pieces last night- Exit Pursued by Tom Stoppard by Fiona McDonald, Eve of War by Neil Chue Hong and Wink. Block. Delete by Mark Jeary; it was really lovely to see an another anthology of new writing in Edinburgh, since, after the Ten Minuters failed to return, I'd pretty much only seen such a thing at Candlewasters. However, apparently such a thing is quite common at Discover 21, the theatre where the event was held, so maybe I'll be able to experience more of it in the future.