Another trip to Live Theatre last night, this time to see Fans, a lively show that is part-gig, part theatre, a love letter to the bands we have loved before. It was my first ‘press and guests’ night at Live, so I was excited at the prospect of meeting some of the people who work there – and with whom I have been exchanging emails, though I went about this in my usual rather haphazard fashion of just introducing myself to random strangers and hoping they didn’t mind.

I got there early so set myself up in the Undercroft to do a little writing first, and ended up sharing my table with Plastic Glass (@plasticglass1 should you wish to check them out on Twitter), a bunch of young Sunderland-based musicians who the theatre had asked to do a live post-show gig at the weekend and so had been invited to see the show. This seems a great idea to me – giving a platform to young bands, encouraging engagement and cross-pollination. Though I affected the air of world-weary journo, I was slightly alarmed to realise I was literally old enough to be their mother – in fact, after a carbonated drink went volcanic on them, I was handing out tissues to clean it up like a proper mam, which I felt rather blew my cool.

My cool quotient further plummeted when, as I went into the show, I was handed a glowstick and told not to break it – thereby activating the ‘glow’ – until instructed, but of course the faff of balancing wine glass, jacket, handbag and undamaged glowstick while taking my seat proved too much for me, and I snapped the damn thing before I even sat down, and so then had to hide the brightly illuminated evidence of my incompetence until the allotted moment arrived, when of course it was buried so far under my seat and my bags I couldn’t find it…