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That Girl From Derwent reckons if you're going to be offensive, you should find a better reason.
That Girl from Derwent considers why it is that some words have wider implications than others.
Taking you back in time to when it wasn’t dark by five in the evening, the second instalment of Katie Lambert’s behind-the-scenes blog muses on the sadomasochism of fundraising… and Paddington Bear…
Entry two: No business like glow business
So, the summer is over. Over the past few weeks, our team has assembled back in York; some with fun anecdotes from travelling, others big city hair dos and most with deflated egos from the Fringe (everyone who is anyone was, like, so there and so covered in face paint for a month. You haven't lived if you haven't wept on the mile) With the Freshers’ Fair less than a week away (so many eager beavers, ripe for the picking) and auditions shortly after, the time is nigh for the proverbial ball to start rolling.
And roll it has. Now, far be it for me to criticise any York University Student Union (despite what a budding Nouse reporter tried to wheedle out of me) but let it suffice to say we need to raise some funds. A lot. A lorra lorra. Not so much to worry, but enough for me to feel it necessary to invest in an 80s power woman style Filofax. Whilst the general population of York was enjoying a debauched Freshers’ week, we have taken to the streets with our luminescent batons. You guessed it, glow sticks. And that was only the beginning.
My job to concoct and enact these fund raising schemes takes on a very odd form of sadomasochism. Of course, there are so many ways I would rather have spent my Freshers’ week. I dream of hoisting some inebriated fresher from a pool of her own vomit, or laughing as my friend flouts the 'don't fuck a fresher' law, but instead I spent my time standing outside Salvation in my sensible duffle coat, with my glow sticks, like a new rave soggy Paddington Bear.
So, a few notes to those who feel they have some opinions on glow sticking. Yes, I know the mark up is ridiculous. No, I'm not just pocketing it. Fundraising means you have to PAY for the shiny things. No, I will not give you one for free.
It's not all bad though; selling glow sticks together in the rain and taking drunken abuse en masse does really bond a team. And the bouncers outside Salvation are very “banterous” - I felt Barry and I had a special relationship blossoming.
After the first week of fundraising, and most definitely not the last, I felt I had become a master in the glow trade. And some people really do surprise you with their kindness and generosity. Above all, with the start of the new academic year, I think we all had a sense of the massive task ahead of us. But with that sense also comes, of course, excitement. From glow-sticking, to our Halloween Party, to the Christmas Ball, and so many hair-brained schemes in between I'm sure, our sense of occasion and earning our show grows. In a sick way, the fact that we weren't just handed this show on a plate pushes me personally, and us as a team, even harder. The prospect of all the immensely talented people in York coming together as a cast as soon as next week is also unbelievably exciting. So go on, next time you see a budding glow-sticker, take pity. It'll make my night I promise you.
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