Oh dear...

I've been looking back at my blog in recent months and I seem to have done it again. Well, the opposite this time. There I am writing flippant, jocular entries to satisfy those who worried my blog was getting morbid and now it's just silly, of little substance and frankly has no thought whatsoever. I need to verbalise my thought processes more carefully, however mundane. My writing suffers badly and it becomes dry and something the editor of Heat may think was an 'interesting Carrie Bradshaw approach' to observing life. I'm shuddering in my cheap IKEA chair now. Dear Lord. Strike me down now. I'm meant to encourage great writing. Actually, don't strike me down just yet, I have a show to do in four weeks time and have no understudy. Anyway, I digress. I've decided and I'm sorry now in advance, if future musings seem depressive. I'm not. Please don't call social services or suggest seeing a psychiatrist. This is what writing is about - exploring every aspect and the negative parts are so much fun to write about. Exorcising those demons and woes in tiny, thought provoking words, syllables, sentences and paragraphs, it helps put everything into joyful, toe-tapping, 'Mr. Bluebird on my shoulder' perspective in a weird way. I miss it and I will now write whatever the buggery-hell I want to write. Self-editing in order to please the masses is for people who go round saying things like "I do love The Vicar of Dibley but I just don't get BBC2". (I wonder if John Craven worried as much, putting together his child-friendly news stories for Newsround.) I hope this will eventually kick start something within me to get my novel and script ideas into shape. After the show, I must start breaking the concepts down and figure out what will work and what is shockingly bad, I might as well cast it aside and lock it up in a small safe marked "Step away now. Dull beyond words".

How could I forget...

There I was thinking about who would be on my BFM list and I forget this man. How will Mr Ruffalo forgive me? Well, he is married so I'm sure he'll cope.

I'm mulling over who he should replace. Hugh or Elijah? Answers on a postcard please.

For Grandjie...

You were not my guide.

You were my feet upon which I walked ahead with into my future.

You were not my comforter.

You were the hands that covered my heart when I was cold.

You were not my teacher.

For you were my smile when I found knowledge and achievement.

You were not just my friend.

You were my world. My energy. My joy.

Blatant additon to BFM List...

It's unimaginative, a huge and blatant teenage crush of an addition, but over the last week I have been watching, what Americans call 're-runs' of the first season of 'Heroes' on the Scifi Channel (yes, Sky finally got their act together) and have fallen for the lovely Milo Ventimiglia, who plays Peter Petrelli. Heroes is a kinda regular Joe X-Men style science fiction show that has more twists and turns than 'Lost' and is more confusing than an epileptic inside a duvet cover. I desperately need to be more selective with my exclusive list, I know but I have a small, yet hopeful sense of hope that evidence of their personality and intelligence will shine through with many of my candidates. I have faith Milo might have something going for him apart from good hair. Heroes is totally addictive and I've been willing the creator and director, Tim Kring to include a scene where Milo has to take his shirt off. (Currently it stands as one shot of him getting out of bed with his back to the camera - not good enough NBC. Shame on you. Don't you know gays flock to sci-fi? it's as natural and predictable as cows eating grass, dogs catching frisbees and imbeciles reading the Daily Mail).

Still, he goes on my list, as does Jonathan Kelly who is the executive assistant to the Editor of Vanity Fair. He's like the male version of Ugly Betty and Andy Sachs from The Devil Wears Prada. (PAs are obviously the 'in-thing' over in America it seems and they now get they're own cover stories) I can't find a photo of him on Google, so you'll have to do your own undercover investigation online or just buy this month's edition. He's preppy, well-groomed and seemly successful, as he is contributing to this month's edition of Vanity Fair for starters. I imagine he's a very savvy and smart journalist too; likes to stop every morning for a frappaccino before heading into the office, working the hours God Graydon Carter sends him and then heads home to make seafood risotto for him and his boyfriend in the evening. Okay, I'm assuming a lot here. Total flights of fancy, of course. He may hate risotto.

Apologies for not writing in my blog sooner but I've had an awful lot go on in the past month and will fill everyone in soon I promise.