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Monday, 14 July 2014

RNA Conference 2014


Yes, I know I don't have to shout, but I thought you may be so relieved at my safe return that you would like to hang out some bunting?  No?  Not even one bunt?  All right then.  Meanie.  Because, considering what a totally fabbola time I had, you should think yourselves lucky that I came back at all, left to myself I would still be circling the (slightly confusingly laid out) campus like a moist and unlucky mosquito.

Friends!  Old, not so old but slightly tarnished, new, newish and newer! I leapt about in delight only mitigated by some outsize footwear!  On Friday the traditional Kitchen Party was held, but because it was warm we decided to move the kitchen outside, where the midges could more easily access our soft bits and all the food and wine could be displayed to the jealous admiration of passers by.

In fact, so happy and jolly was our little band of Kitchen Refusers, that we began to accrete others around us, like a pearl forms around little bits of grit. Only in this case it was less grit and more bottles and biscuits (oh, and brownies, courtesy of Alison May and Christina Courtney, who jointly increased the dimensions of my hips by at least two inches).

Then came Saturday. Rhoda Baxter and I did a talk, during which I might perhaps have worn a penguin onesie, but it was an illustrative onesie that demonstrated the Juxtaposition of Thingy which is at the heart of all comedy writing.  Obviously.  The onesie generated a large amount of mirth and sweat, both directly proportional to the amount of strutting I did. And, apparently, liking Tony Robinson is amusing, although I have no idea why... There are absolutely no pictures of the onesie... None.  It's astonishing.

Then came the Gala Dinner.

We were allowed to sit down, and I'm not sure what Sarah Callejo, Kate Johnson and Talli Rowland are looking so suspicious about, the butter was a lot more docile than their expressions would seem to indicate.  And the food was wonderful.

And then came the after-party. 

A representative sample of the reprobates taking part.  Rhoda Baxter, Liesl Schwartz and, trying to hide but rather missing the point, Kate Johnson.  Vast amount of alcohol, crisps, biscuits, chocolate not shown due to careful camera angles. 

We discussed such writerly topics as beer-bras, sheep rolling, the inability of cats to decide things, the 'boob-wall' caused by corsets, the infamous Gusset-Fanning incident of 2010 and many other subjects.  And I came home, even though I didn't want to, fuelled by Rhoda Baxter and her mating chocolate.

You had to be there. And next year you had better be, or I'll send the boys round...


Chris Stovell said...

So what you're telling me is that I missed a really, really good conference...., but, hey, I got to read your version of it, so it's not all bad!

Jane Lovering said...

Or maybe I am lying...

But we did miss you, Chris!

Mandy K James said...

What kind of boys will you send round? *dreams of Mr J Depp* Glad you had a fab time. I have trained my grandson to call penguins pengyweenies. I know. There's no hope for the future x