To all of you that have blogged with me, listened to me, watched, and helped me over 2008 have a wonderful New Yea. May the best of 2008 be the worst of 2009. There wil be tails to tell and I will after I’ve finished this delicious fizzy shiraz…. HAPPY NEW YEAR TO YOU ALL.

Festive excessive

It appears that I have spent 5 full days buried beneath a mountain of wrapping paper sellotape greeting cards satsumas crackers turkey gammon 112 different kinds of cheese 78 different kinds of chutney and more games than mad mick. My cup runneth over with bubbling juices and juicy bubbly. Would I like to be in … Read more

Undecided of Battersea

8.41. on a frosty morning. I’ve watered the window boxes on the balcony. Should have put on shoes my feet are freezing. The river looks lovely all the houseboats outside the flat have Christmassy decorations which twinkle at night. I am so busy at the moment, don’t know whether I’m coming or going especially since … Read more

Cold Comfort

The cold air is winding its way around my calves.
I’ve put the washing on, Jim’s jacket smells of bonfires and has grass stains all over it.
I found one sock still stuck in my boot. How annoying is that?
I watched so many films over the weekend I don’t know whether I am in Berlin or 1978.
I went to see ‘Avenue Q’ tonight – its sweet. American voices, puppets and smoochy transatlantic music. The girl next to me spread over two seats and her crutch got in the way. It was a grey, metal standard NHS one.
I had a cup of soup with the agent and after the theatre set off to the end of end of term party in a a big bar.
The noise.
The small black dresses.
The booze.
The youth.
I came, I went, I squandered…. too much of my time.
It’s 23.54 and I need to get into bed before I completely freeze, the wind has now whipped up to my thighs.

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The Knightsbridge Route

I walked to Knightsbridge.
Very fast. My orange and black scarf tied tightly and all I needed in the pocket of my feau fur jacket.
I walked over Battersea Bridge, the sharp morning light clear and silver, down Beaufort Street past the strange little Catholic Church. Left onto the Kings Road, past the Bluebird Caff, Heales, Habitat, endless silly dress shops when a number 19 drove past me but I resisted.
Right down past Peter Jones and left down Sloane Street. Gucci, Chanel, Armani, ridiculous prices for boots, shoes and real fur coats. Another 19 came along to taunt me.
My nose was cold but the rest of me was toasty warm.
By the time I got to Knightsbride I was thinking I might be late for my own imposed deadline – as it turned out all was well.
Down onto the tube and I arrived in Leicester Square bang on. The whole trip had taken just under an hour. Three routes in three days. I’ll do another one tomorrow.

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Party, party, party

I watched the video today of me on the first ever broadcast from Leicester Square.
I’m not being funny but when I saw it I nearly threw in the towel. Now that I have a face for radio I think I had better keep it that way.
If I had known they were bringing in the cameras I would have worn a bra, combed my hair, tightened my chin and trowled a bit of slap on.
Still, it’s there in all its raw glory. Do watch it if only to howl in horror at what appears before you.

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Tuesday Breaking News Day

Dear Hymie, Marmite and all the rest of you well wishers, I took your good will with me to Leicester Square.
The 170 bus arrived late so I started off the day with a freezing cold nose.
The tube to Oxford Circus was comfortably full, and the walk from there to Leicester Square was bracing.
Imran and Harry, on the reception are delightful.
I was taken to level 3, plonked in front of a computer, spilt some water over my newspapers and ate a ton of fruit that had been sent in as a christmas gift…

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Last Day in Latimer

Eddie Izzard started his show with very loud music and lights trained on to the audience. It was very exciting. He started at 8.15, took a small break, then continued until 10.45, or maybe even later.
I cant remember one thing he said but he was rivetting. There was some very funny stuff about giraffes and cows stomachs.
He is very:
Quick witted
A male.
He may occasionally wear a dress but he thinks like a feller, and I should know I live with one.

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I went to see a film at Bafta. It was so bad I left 20 minutes in. I had had a really synchronicitous night. I took the No.19 to Battersea Bridge, ran home, turned on the computer, re-arranged various bits of my writing and eventually got to bed at 4.00 a.m.
I made a free range egg white omelette and fell asleep my head stil buzzing.
Synchronicity is a wonderful thing. The meaning of synchronicity, as used by C.G.Jung, is loosely defined as a fortuitous intermeshing of events.
In the 60’s it was called serendipity.
At 4.00 a.m.in the morning it’s called bloody amazing.

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It’s another Saturday Night

So Radlett came and went – a bit like life really. All that preparation and before you could say ‘Dim those house lights please.’ it was all over. The stage manager didn’t make it, the agent didn’t make it, the film maker didn’t make it, the best friend didn’t make it. But 300 lovely audience … Read more