Last night P took me to the theatre - Speaking in Tongues, produced by the Silo Theatre Company. Verdict: the first half really made me think and I wanted more of the same - Andrew Bovell's second half felt a little disjointed as a result; it had the same strong themes but I wanted to know more through the eyes of Jane, Pete and Sonja who vanished for the benefit of Sarah, Neil/John and Valerie. Oliver Driver was excellent - as John, in particular.
However. The takeaway from last night's performance is that I can never eat at a yakitori bar again if I don't want to end up the size of a house. Edamame, completely justifiable. However, chicken skins, pork belly, octopus balls and chicken livers all on their own wee sticks are entirely too much fatty deliciousness and I cannot resist. Starving myself of yakitori is the only way - but Tanuki's Cave is on my walk home...I am doomed.
Also, I drank far too much sake with dinner (just before the final skewer arrived I annouced to P: "I am officially impaired") and that's a recipe for feeling alternatively extremely hot and then shivery the day following. I am having real trouble regulating my body temp today.