The hours and minutes felt longer today. Like stretching plasticine.
Had fifteen minutes to get to Bal-Ham.
Bik- ram rocked. For some reason I could get my head on my knee, my heel in my groin and my foot in my mouth. More relaxed maybe, or just more focussed.
Loved it that Fran, the teacher thought I was called Olivia. I am about as much an Olivia as The Queen is a Sharon…
Sat in a traffic jam whilst the Bin men clogged up Ransome Road. I had enough time to finish my bottle of water and have a chat with a lovely geezer who was sitting on the seat outside Bal-Ham library.
Month: January 2011
Frosty tips.
It is not possible to live a life on sausages, mash, peas, gravy yorkshire pudding, all washed down with half a Guinness, and then expect to feel great.
I spent all Sunday afternoon sleeping.
Jim and I watched THE BANKSY documentary, EXIT THROUGH THE GIFT SHOP.
Loved it.
The day after the night before.
Sunday looms. I need to sleep, and relax before tomorrows show. Doing one a week is harder than every day. Need the regularity to work out the wrinkles. I have to psych myself up. The old git and me went up the Kings Road for breakfast. he had crepes with bacon and scrambled egg and … Read more
Cobra nights
Don’t know I how I managed yoga this morning but I did.
Did the standing postures. I am not very good with them.
Then the lying down taking a rest poses.
Then we did the cobra. On your front, bend your back, all sorts of pulling here and there and the teacher said ‘Well done the girl in the blue shorts’
Don’t know whether it was the girl or the shorts. But I put my nose in my towel and cried.
Of course the blue shorted bint was me.
Clearly I need an audience.
Bend it like Bikram
Drove the car belonging to Gods Gift, he was still in bed when I left.
It was so good driving something that worked.
My little Red Nellie is still in the garage all her parts were held up because of the snow.
Drunk a litre of greens – yuk – then set off just after 9.30 to get to Bikram in Balham.
Tweet Nothings
It’s 20.37 and I feel sick.
And here’s why.
Two little pots of prune yoghurt.
7 fish balls and peas with tomato sauce.
Two pickled onions.
34 almonds.
A mozzarella, tomato and aubergine ciabatta.
Two coffees
A drive to East Sussex to drop off an ailing car.
A debut show on BBC London.
A husband who actually listened.
A daughter who caught some of it.
A band of buddies who bothered to tune in.
A mother who heard half of it.
A Barry who has downloaded it on facebook
A Sybil who sent greetings from Hollywierd.
The Girl in the Orange tatty – who?
Is it possible that I climbed out of bed at 5.45?
Is it possible that I put on the shorts and vest – which I thought was red but apparently is not cos the teacher kept yelling
‘Will the girl in the orange top turn her feet backwards?’ Girl I ask you….
Is it possible that I put on the coat, took the towel out of the utility room, grabbed a bottle of clean, cold water and got into the care at 6.07?
Yogi Bare
I’ve spent all day collating years worth of writings. The memoir now has at least nine different titles.
The job is putting it all together then sending it off to my agent, writing more bits and editing what I have.
It’s 8.10 and my eyes feel like brussels sprouts that have been overboiled. It’s all that looking at the screen and trying not to be tooooo self critical.