Sunday, October 22, 2006

Charlie says....

You may remember me mentioning Charlie, the new boy in our Am Dram group for Anything Goes. I briefly mentioned him a while back. Well, I thought I'd mention him again, as I quite like mentioning him now to friends. Actually, everyone in the company keeps mentioning him. In fact, most of us know our markers for certain dance routines, simply based on knowing where we're standing in relation to where Charlie is. Yes, the ladies giggle and swoon as if they truly were 1920s flapper girls, all in awe of an incredibly charming environmental lawyer with boyish good looks who is apparently single, and well, actually straight! The gays amongst us, flirt, try and catch glances of his arms when the moment allows and resist trying to manhandle him in the wings.

I'm in the terrible, terrible, terrible position where most of the dance numbers have me holding his hand, or holding his waist, or having our arms linked, or in one scene, picked up and carried off by him. The director and choreographer obviously see the comic potential between the two of us with our extreme differences in height. Despite all this overblown cooing from all directions, I have to say, Charlie is a phenomenally nice guy. Cast the mop of thick jet black hair, cheeky eyebrows, chest like a bow of a ship and arms of Roman statuesque proportions aside - he's genuinely very sweet, very sincere and makes a conscious effort with everyone around him. I admire that, as I try and do the same. And we've now bonded. Well, I'd like to think we have.

He insists on being my partner at every opportunity, as if I am some font of knowledge concerning all things am dram and has even asked to meet up outside of rehearsals to practise even more. What is a boy to do? I suppose I must yield to his demands. What a cross to bear indeed, I hear you cry. It's terribly flattering as a performer to have such new found adoration from a colleague. I answered my phone late on Thursday night to discover it was Charlie on the other end, belting all the different song lyrics to 'Anything Goes'. This went on for about ten minutes. He was very chuffed with himself and wanted to tell me apparently and I just wanted to hug him for all his efforts.

Anyway, this was a very long note to really say "Here's a photo of Charlie, the good-lookin' one from my Am Dram group."

Thursday, October 19, 2006


A colleague of mine who works at See Tickets died last week of liver cancer after being diagnosed on the 22nd of September. He was 30 years old and about to marry his girlfriend. Cliched as it sounds, it does makes you think.

What are my priorities? Am I living to them? Here's to you Mr Downie and to drunkenly singing 'Popular' on the Number 3 Night Bus at 3am. My thoughts are with you and your family.

To respond to my sister's concerns that some of my entries on here have been solemn, (didn't you read my Beverley Knight story below - it's hilarious!) I hope that I have kept these entries as honest and as varied as possible. Sometimes life throws you a curve ball and you have to dive to catch it. Sometimes you're just all 'butter fingers' and drop the damn thing. And you curse yourself. I'm allowed to have those days. Just don't worry too much. I am a yo-yo of emotion. I do untangle myself in my own time. I just don't write about the untangling as much as I should. Yes, my love life can hang from a perilous thread sometimes. But show me a person whose romantic entanglements don't these days!

That's not a call to submit names of happy couples by the way, like Sting and Trudie Styler or Bert and Ernie.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Shudda said something else...

I went to my friend Shura's birthday party on Friday night with my friend Becky. We sat in Shepherds Bar. I, munching a packet of Walkers Sensations whilst Becky nibbled on a Cadbury's Boost. We were both starving and couldn't be arsed to buy the overpriced bar food. The bar itself, was owned by and in the same building as the company Endemol, the makers of Big Brother. It was full of 'medja' types and while we waited for Shura to turn up, we churned out our usual conversation, overlapping each other's tales, as we normally did, twitching in nervous anticipation, much like a pair of nervous lap dogs waiting to be petted by Barbara Cartland.

Two hours later, the party was in full swing and we found ourselves sat with Shura, who had embraced my gift of a vintage Swarovski bracelet with such abundant joy and passion that only she could give. Pleased I had become 'Present Giver Of The Year' once again, I sat back, relaxed and started talking to the collective of friends around me. Becky was being praised by a young black girl who exclaimed how beautiful Becky was, which to be fair, she is. She is quite the bohemian, tousled hair of feminine beauty and beads indeed - no matter what she thinks. An hour later, I found myself chatting to the same envious lady and felt compelled to tell her unequivocally, that despite thinking my friend was incredibly pretty, she herself was quite stunning too. "Oh no. I look rough as houses tonight." she protested. "Nonsense," I replied, "You look like fucking Beverley Knight for fuck sake!"

To which she replied "I am Beverley Knight."

Friday, October 06, 2006

Familiar Territory...

Once again, I find myself heading off into the sunset alone. Another layer of hope within has curled up and died after another 'interested' man decides he's not that interested after all. Yet the signals were there and I'm made to feel a bit of an idiot believing that they were somehow genuine. More than just a knock back, it is a sad repetitive pattern of how my dating process seems to never get past 'first base'. I'm not sure how much of my confidence, that I have spent the last few years building up, can take now. I realise I mustn't give up hope and I'm very proud of myself that I've come along way from the nervous, inept and totally inexperienced person I was several years ago, I do worry all that self-esteem building seems to be crumbling away, back to its original insecure form. I have to be careful, be strong and keep focused. It's been a while since I mentioned the guy I met at the party, and for good reasons too, I was keeping it to myself, trying to enjoy the moment without analysing every minute of it, like I always do. Close friends were obviously kept in the loop, those poor people had to listen to every cautionary tale of communication, every moment of self doubt and every whirl of excitement every time I heard from him. I was determined to 'play it cool' and be casual about it, as one is supposed to be in these situations. Fat lot of good that did me.

I realise people have their own agendas. I am dismayed how many people use email and and text to avoid face to face communication. Call me old fashioned but that is kind of cowardly and I appreciate even a phone call if meeting someone to discuss issues is too confrontational for some.

Bitch over. Back to single life and being a bit more selfish. Men. If they want me, they can come and claim me.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Getting Away...

I have returned from the family holiday relatively unscathed and surprisingly tired. My desire to sleep in over my 4 day break was thwarted by several sheep outside the farm cottage we were staying in and my parents habit of waking at the crack of dawn to potter round the open plan holiday home, which was a cross between a Von Trapp Family chalet and something young offenders use on 'day release'. To be fair, it was a refreshing change to be somewhere different and the fact the folks had gone to the effort to bring us together, what with my sister's dilemmas and our family unit being thrown across the world over the past year, it was comforting to see us all in the same room, eating together, all laughing about the same things, walking along the same bit of countryside or coastline. It's also a reminder how things never change even though many elements of your own life move on dramatically and change significantly. We get caught up with 'stuff' that a reminder of stability is quite unnerving in a way. I'm not sure if that's comforting or not to be honest.