It never really feels like my birthday when my twin’s not around.

But nonetheless it is indeed my birthday - I’m going to bed and can’t quite get to sleep. Have spoken to various loved ones around the world and it’s past midnight in the U.K., so undeniably birthday. I feel like I’ve missed my normal period of self reflection and list making (between xmas and my birthday) by basically being unconscious, feverish or working.

It’s also been hard while stuck in bed to turn my attention to anything but the fires back home in Australia - it’s helplessly absorbing and frightening. Being far away and not able to help except by donating money to the RFS and retweeting other people’s information, while watching the conflicting news stories spin out on political vectors is not a good feeling.

Horrible scary things aside, Tea With Alice will resume as normal this week - the unexpected hiatus caused by my being wretchedly sick was probably a worthwhile break and I feel enthused about starting it back up.

That said, I haven’t exactly been on podcasting holiday - The Last Post is now launched and a week into itself, and it’s a very big and fun project to be working on - (an enormous amount of logistics to bring the files through from the Alternate Universe Alice into this one, wink wink). I’ve got to say, heading John Oliver do the announcement at the beginning of each episode is a real thrill.

Let me know if you’d like to see behind the curtain on that quantum glitch.

Also Andy Zaltzman’s soho Show has been on basically every night, with me as all the silly voices and the Dog Of Doom from backstage. Being backstage was also handy because I could do all my performing while sitting down. And now I’m a lot better, so I can stand up. Also, I did a three day run of Savage at the Soho Theatre, and it was so lovely. I felt really happy to be able to do that show, which means so much to me, at such a lovely venue with such kind and generous audiences.

A few people asked if it feels odd to ‘bring back’ something that I wrote in such a raw time. But I think that it’s not quite like that at all. The way I wove that show is hard to describe, but a decent analogy would be something like weaving a wreath or a tribute. I wrote the show while I was grieving but it isn’t exactly a howl. It’s more like the writing of it was a thing that I could create in the midst of loss and the show was a task I could (literally) perform when death and suffering make you feel helpless.

In that way, it’s not a thing that I feel ‘less connected to’. It’s a thing that I still feel right about doing. It’s hardly the whole of my story or my mum’s story - to the contrary, it’s such a razor thin slice of the whole universe - a single true flower I revisit in a whole forest of truths.

It’s late and I’m mixing metaphors.

This was meant to be about my birthday, and not about death and stories and art. Though I guess those things are inextricable parts of the human experience.

If we knew the day we’d die we’d know how much closer we were each birthday. As it is, we just have to do our best and give each other water when we need it. I feel happy and lucky to have had so many good things, read so many good books, seem so many good skies, to be doing work I love (even when I’m deliriously sick and exhausted and worried about the fires back home), and to have the support of good people.

I never know what to do on my birthday. If it were Sydney I’d go for a swim, so maybe I’ll find a pond somewhere and dunk myself in it when I wake up. Happy birthday!

Xxx

A

ETA: for the nice people asking about birthday presents, feel free to recommend my work or the Patreon to people you think would like it. Or donate money to a decent cause in my name. Or a large emerald of remarkable beauty.