My internet connection has been out of action. In fact my home phone line has been out of action for at least a week and a half but because I'm very lazy, it was only fixed today. Hats off to Telewest (not that I want to turn this into a fawning corporate blog) - although perhaps the fault was theirs in the first place. But they came out today between the 8 - 12 slot. Chap turned up at 8:05am, fiddled around, disappeared out into the street for some considerable time, returned, pronounced the cable connection "knackered", phoned in to the mother ship to declare the problem fixed. And departed again. Scottish Gas eat your heart out.

Anyway I say all of this to explain my ether silence. My father said earlier that he hadn't checked my blog in the past few days. Little did he know that this would have resulted in the sharing of no new news. So I was spurred on to 'post', as the young might say.

Besides I have relevant news. Due to an unfortunate catalogue of events (that's right - blame others when it was I myself that didn't check that dates had been communicated correctly), I ended up missing the gorgeous Mr Mayall at the Playhouse in the Saturday matinee of the New Statesman. And instead found myself haunting the corridors of Buccleuch Place for the first audition date. And a worthy haunting it was too. As a prime total of 2 people turned up. And I'm sure at least one of them was only there because she was showing moral support / I had nagged her into it. (Dear loyal Siobhan.)

But we read some scenes and it was great to hear it being read aloud. Played around with the singer / newsreader speeches delivered in the manner of Andrew Marr. I wonder still if that will work. And they (all two of them) seemed to find the play genuinely funny. Which is encouraging as I think bits of it are very funny but can never quite tell whether this is my own strange brand of humour in evidence or whether others will genuinely agree.

I mustn't panic. (Me thinks the lady...) Various people have said they can't make either date. In fact I received a girl this very morning into my very own home to collect a script. And one potential candidate is currently very busy in France planting flowers in the garden in the baking sun. Hard life.

I have round two tomorrow. Round three next Sunday. And round four sometime that week. Plenty time...