Running And Golden Onions

So, I did a 5 k run last night. I know! I surprise even myself. My time was 31.52. Nicole, the now sacked Personal Trainer, had originally said I should be able to complete in under 30 mins. I only stopped the Personal Training because I invariably ignored most of her advice (although most of it was sound) and because she was very expensive. She is lovely though, so don't be thinking she isn't.

Anyway, when she said I'd be able to do the run in 30 minutes, she hadn't accounted for me drinking my body weight in strong lager and Ukrainian vodka the night before the race. I'm such a ninkempoop. I think she might have been right and 30 minutes might have been achievable had I made more time for training over the last few weeks and at least had a night off the booze, the night before.

I was gigging, I was out with my little Sprogling. I needed that booze! *ahem*. Party Piece was nice (the gig Tuesday). Norm came along to support and brought me some interesting reading on common mistakes of the stand up comic. Saw the lovely funny charming Dave Gibson again. I did the material I'd tried out the week before at Open mic olympics, which seemed to go down quite well. It didn't feel like it went brilliantly in terms of audience laughs, but it felt ok.

Oh it has been too long my friends. Kiev seems like a distant memory now and it was only four days ago. Kiev was smashing. It had lots of churches with golden onions on the top.

Here is a picture of the scary entrance to our apartment. We arrived at night and there were no lights in this rather dingy hallway...

The apartment once we were in though was very nice... Here is a picture of my travel buddy Ann in the apartment. She is probably arranging the contents of her handbag for the seventeeth time.

On Saturday we went and found the lavra monastry where the bodies of the monks are kept. The caves where the bodies are were cool and only lit by candles. The bodies themselves in glass coffins and they all looked like tiny little fellas. They were all covered up with religious cloth, so we didn't really get the gruesome spectacle we had expected. All very respectful in fact and we felt a bit naughty for our motives for visiting. We hid it well though and pretended to be genuine pilgrims.

Here is the view of the monastry as we approached it.

This is just one of the big onion churches within the grounds of the monastry

No pictures in the caves. Soz!

Sunday we adventured across town to a place called Andreevsky's Spusk (or something along those lines.) This is the church there...

We were recommended that part of Kiev because of a long winding street with lots of arts and crafts stalls. For arts and crafts, please read TAT. Still, we saw quite a few of the other city sights on the way up to the area, including amazing metro stations and more golden onion buildings, so it was worth the journey.

Overall lots of fun was had with finding our way around, including the obligatory spend twenty minutes finding the metro station, get the metro two stops, spend ten minutes finding way out of metro station - find yourself ten minutes up the road from where you started. Any foreign visitor to any big city has to do that before deciding to stick with the map and walking. It is all part of the fun!!

If you go, do try the metro and carry a map with both alphabets on it, it will help you be able to say the station names as well as read them when you are in the stations (that is my top Kiev travel tip as it goes.) The stations were truly amazing. The longest escalators I've ever seen in my life and really ornate stations as well. This one had mad chandaliers in.

Even though we didn't have time to see Kiev properly or really appreciate everything it had to offer, I'm glad I got that brief taste of the place. It isn't really geared up for tourists, only the odd younger person will speak English and most signs are in cyrillic, so you have to think about things a bit in a different way and use your survival instincts. It was all over in a flash and time to come home far too soon.

Cradley Heath with Norm and Peter tonight. Don't let on, but I'm only going for the free chip butty.

Open mic olympics

I went to a gig called the Open Mic Olympics last night, a night organised by Dale Lately, to try and shake off the wobblies left behind after Leicester and I'm glad I did. You only have to do 3 minutes so I felt like I was gently easing myself back in. I came up with some material about family, which as opposed to the new ad-libby stuff, I did at Party Piece and Pearshaped, I think some of these bits could stick around a while. Thats nice :) I didn't storm the gig, but it went fairly well. With an extra 30 seconds and a stronger end it would have been better still....

I got reprimanded by Norman because I keep changing my set. I'm just in a state of flux at the moment and 7 feels stagnant and he didn't see the twenty odd times, I did stick with the same material... If I don't do things this way, I might not do anything and I'm just trying to keep things ticking over. *gasps*

Norm did really well. He is on some comedy high right now...He reached the final and was in a cheer off for the top spot. The winner, A Greek chick was excellent and it was a fair result. I was well impressed and wanted to poke her eyes out. (Not really.)

After the gig, I went out for a late drinky with Anthony Dewson and David Jam Granny, which is nice. Late drinking. mmmm. I like that I'm continually making and cementing friendships through the comedy. Last night serving to remind me that I'm not ooooonly in it for the stage time and the laughs, but all the fringe benefits of a jolly social life. We went to arty type members bar, The Pheonix. The people in there were all a bit odd and I was really flagging by that stage, so didn't hang around really late before heading off to find a bus home.

When I woke up today, I couldn't remember if this had really happened or was a dream. I got on the bus and flashed my oyster against the reader as I walked off towards the stairs. "OI" yelled the driver - "No credit!" As I fumbled to find two quid in my purse, I dropped a pound and watched in dismay as it rolled towards the door and through a gap between bus door and bus floor and out into the night. I don't remember the next bit:

• Did I have an extra pound or
• Did the coin not really roll outside or
• Did the driver let me off?

Perhaps it was all just a dream and if so, why am I dreaming such boring old sludge. I think something along those lines really did happen. I'm guessing I must have had an extra quid.

Exciting hey??? It quite puzzled me this morning and I was out of Oyster credit and not a pound coin in sight...

Yes, I felt like shite today. Very ropey indeed. Had supervision with My Little Pony. I think he has twigged already that I'm not ever so productive, but I'm prepared to work with him on that point and at least try to change my ways a bit ... to avoid too much aggravation...

Off for a hair of the dog now before heading home to get my stuff together for my adventures in Kiev. Oh yeah, did I mention? I'm flying to the Ukraine tomorrow to mooch about visiting old stuff and looking at dead bodies for two days :)

Castles and Princesses.

Because little kitteh Princess funnies are always relevant in any day or age!

I'm at work at the moment, so probably shouldn't hang around in blogland too long. In fact, I just wanted to post a silly picture to cheer the place up after the moody blues of the last few postings.

I think I talked the whole Oglet family into going to Cornwall this summer (well 90% sure they are signed up for it.) Staying near this beach:

LUSH!!

Whilst there, I'll be continuing my charm offensive on the surfers of the area. Best not tell the parentals or brother Gary that is on my list of things to do. Think they have visit the Eden Project, eat sea food and build sand castles. I don't mind doing those things either, except the sea food. Maybe once I've built my sand castle, I'll really discover my inner princess or maybe I'll just end up with sand in my undercrackers and that isn't princessly in the slightest.

LICKING MY WOUNDS ...

SO EVERY COMEDIAN DIES DO THEY? WELL DYING IS STILL EFFING HURTY!! Sorry I shouldn't yell and shout...

The Leicester thing has given me a dose of the wobblies. Well I think the Leicester thing and a few other goings onsies have collectively given me a dose of the wobblies if I'm honest, but I've had one of them days. 

There were the boring emails to friends droning on about my silly concerns, - Thanks and sorry friends....Then I had to send the quick email to Chris (beloved work colleague and friend of the gay variety) - "Lets get out of here for coffee" when I felt a little gush of tears on their way. I do know none of my worries are really proper worries to be taken seriously, but sometimes the old girly emotions get the better of me anyway and I have to just to go with the flow. For want of a better expression.   

As I say, the gig is only a part of it, but it doesn't seem to matter that "Every comedian dies" and "at least I can learn from it" and "I've known I need to write new stuff for a while, so this might be the boot up the bum I need". I know all that, but I'm still completely gob smacked at how terrible I was and bruised egos take time to heal too...

I'm also a tiny teeney bit disappointed with myself as instead of going to try out at the Amused Moose competition last night, I went to the pub with Sprogs and got tanked up on Grolsch. It was what I needed at the time though. I was in no mood to think of my two funniest minutes and be judged again. I was in no mood to think of any funny minutes of any sort to be fair...

We had a nice evening as it happened and if ever there was a story to make you realise - "things could be worse." We got drinking with one of the keepers. He was in the pub alone and as he is one of the more approachable zoo keepers, we asked him to join us. We learnt that he was drinking alone to avoid going home...

His ex-fiancée was at the shared ownership flat that neither of them could afford to leave, despite their relationship having ended a year ago. Shared ownership flats apparently very strict about sub letting and that kind of thing, so for various reasons they are trapped there together - (a sign of these credit crunchy times). I told him I'd read articles about just that sort thing, couples who can't afford to live apart after they have split up and he seemed ever so pleased to be part of a modern social phenomenon and learn that in many respects his suffering - is just a statistic. Anyway - The really horrible bit was that she (the ex) was at their flat with her new boyfriend. Ouch, that has to be miserable. 

A sad story indeed, which didn't unfortunately stop me feeling sorry for my comparatively silly problems and having quite a few "moments" today and using the whole thing as an excuse not to go gym. All I have is silly boys sending crappy texts with gentle rejections sads and gig sads and nothing actually substantial AT ALL to worry about, so I should get a grip. I will soon: I PROMISE :)

On a lighter note. I was stood at the bus stop this evening - head down, arsing about with a text to someone on the old phonage, when I thought I heard someone shouting my name. Huh, could it be? Someone wants to talk to me. Probably not... I looked up and there was the lovely Personal Trainer Roman looking rather delightful and quite pleased to see me. He asked if I'd been training and I said no, then explained I'd had a bit of a bad day and didn't fancy it. (I've got upset at the gym before and it is best avoided as it is very public.) 

Then even just telling him that, I had to fight not to get myself going again with the emotional-ness.... He said what I needed was fresh air and exercise and gave my a little, but quite hurty poke in the arm for my trouble - to emphasise his cheeky ways at trying to get me training even when I was feeling shite. A poke though - completely uninvited. It is perfectly clear from this small gesture - He can't keep his hands off me and as I'm sure you will all agree via the comments (I needs this people.) He is obviously in love with me. You can't blame him, his eyes aren't painted on... ;-)

Now it's time for tea. I got mountains of comfort food from the shop tonight. Mmmmm food. Mmmmmm. byeeee xxx.

PUNCTUATION SMILIES IN A BLOG? WTF IS THAT? YOU MAY ASK. I CAN IF I WANT. ITS MY BLOG, SO GET OVER YOURSELVES. 

Sorry was I shouting again? Food now. Definitely. xxx

Dying on my arse.

I went to Leicester tonight and died a horrible death. In comedy terms, rather than actual proper life. Still feels really ouchy mind! 

To my extra shame I was one of only four from thirteen acts that did not survive the six minutes. Nine people survived the gong, but I got gonged off after three minutes or something... I was terrible though and the gongage was entirely fair. I will do a full post mortem, but if you don't mind, I'll do that in private and not bore you with how I felt and looked nervous and never really managed to gain my confidence back when the audience smelt my fear... 

To my extra extra shame... the passenger/co-driver I took to Leicester was Dave Gibson. He was/is excellent and to the credit of the audience, he won the night overall. As it should have been I thought, enough to restore my faith in audience voting. I died on that stage, had I been voting I'd have red carded me too and he should have won and he did, but imagine how weird that was for him, and shameful for me when he had to be kind and nice and all that on the way home... 

Dave is either super cool or super nice or both coz he did zero gloating and I'd have been on top of the world and not able to hide it, had I been in his shoes. I'd have been nice too, but I think I'd have been too overjoyed not to let it show at least a bit. Not so cool...

I'm proper embarrassed so I am. We got on really well on the way up there, despite his trains all being cancelled on the way to meet me in Walthamstow, so we set off half hour later than planned. Then between us, navigation errors led us really out of the way ...  A1(M) not M1 for fair a bit, then the recovery route through Luton, meaning we didn't get to Leicester until 9pm (planned arrival 8pm). Despite all that, I thought we got on jolly well. 

As I say, the way home was a little more awkward, well it should have been and wasn't really. It was only awkward in as much that I was gutted with myself and felt bad for him to have to be nice to me. He offered to split the driving on the way home and by then, I was well up for that, this was no time to be a martyr. When we got low on fuel only 20 or so miles down the M1, we stopped at Services, he gave me his winnings for petrol and I let him take over from there. He did point out that I was very trusting and he might not even have a driving licence. Trusting and Lazy we agreed upon. He was better at driving than me as well as comedy. GIT.

I'm sure we both just wanted to get out of that flipping car as soon as humanly possible. If for no other reason (ha ha) than it was very late. It was not to be, the M1 was closed at junction 11 and this meant a long delay and a detour via Luton again and Darnstable or somewhere, which he dealt with very well. When the conversation wained, I shared one of my more recent dating disaster stories to pass the time, and he reciprocated with one of his, so that was nice... 

He drove us all the way back down to Archway where he hopped out to muddle his way back to Kensal Green via night bus and I was glad the car was mine and I was somewhere I knew! I did say he could drive as close to home as he wanted and I'd happily find my way back from there, but probably with the lateness of the hour and a keen ardour to get away from someone with dating stories and apparent lack of comedy ability such as mine, he did the decent thing and got out at the first available night bus stop that we came to.

I drove myself home and here we are at 4am, with me nursing a large glass of rosé - thinking best post this all now or I'll never find the right time. Back on the horse for me. Well moose. I shall (probably) have a stab at the Amused Moose tomorrow. It can't do any harm. there isn't a six hour round trip or a gong involved and who knows maybe I'll get a laugh or two. 

They said the hideous death would come and it did. I think I did ok to get to gig 31* before it happened, but it was a stinker. It makes Downstairs at the King's Head, my other most memorable badden seem like a peach. Yes, I even got the no-one except the person who has to get back to London with me wants to talk to me treatment too... Spikey Mike had this to say : "Thanks for driving Dave up though." Honestly, that was all he could muster. My big 'in' with the Midlands comedy scene is on hold then it would seem. 

*Yep I'm up to 31 gigs, I got on at the Camden Head last night and that was a terrible night of comedy, in which I didn't do great, but I did ok to a small, tired and unforgiving audience. Going by the overall unpleasant air of the evening, my ok spot made me feel pretty good about things. When a punter tells you after the gig, you were one of the only funny ones other than the compere, then that is a pretty good compliment. Tonight the audience were much more forgiving and I just sucked. 

No blog pictures today and no blog funnies just a horrible night of comedy learning. Anyone with an ounce of comedy knowhow says "There will come a time in comedy - when YOU WILL DIE - (whoever you are), but don't panic that is just the way it goes." They mean it. They don't mean you will have tricky gigs. They mean: "YOU WILL DIE." I did and yet strangely, coz its a comedy, I get to live again...

Happy days!?!? 3 gigs in a week. A mixed bag to be fair, but yay me for taking part and I'm properly into my thirties ... in more ways than one.

I'd better go to bed now. I'm zooing tomorrow and Becki said I could be 'on ferrets' if I stuck around to do the gig on Friday (I texted her to tell her how unappetising the night seemed, so she told me to stick with it and bribed me with small mammal handling.) I shall take the ferret handling as a treat, but not for Friday, for my death in Leicester just now. I hope the blighters don't bite me, that would be a real bitch after the night I've had.

DAVE GIBSON though. Remember that name. A very funny man and a very nice chap!

No Time To Blog.

I promised pictures from Cornwall and haven't got any of those posted yet. Here is the "i can has cheezburger" offering for the week.

It is a poor state of affairs when there isn't even any time to blog. Sorry Peoples...I've either been drunk, hungover, in work, asleep or all four at once this week. I'm in work now, but as it is lunchtime on Friday, I thought a quick posting wouldn't hurt anyone.

So I went along to Party Piece in Stamford Hill/Stoke Newington on Tuesday evening. It seemed really empty when I arrived and Tom W tried to suggest we might want to call it off, but a few newbies were keen to go ahead with the show - that old precious commodity stage time. never mind the lack of audience looking at the stage... I sat on the fence about whether to go home or go ahead with it, but most people were happy to give it a crack even if it was empty and strange. I think the right decision was made. By the time it kicked off around 8.45 the room had filled up just enough, so that it wasn't too odd. About 20 people, but the majority of those acts still...

I wasn't up until act number 10, so fairly late, (but not on last at least) and there were still some people in the room. Still shying away from the 7 things set, I went on with a vague idea of recounting my weekend in Cornwall. Some words were written on a bit of old notepaper (wow, progress of a sort...), but not particularly memorised and the general plan to just blag my way through and all in all it went ok. One or two big laughs and a fair amount of jolly chucklement along the way.

Wednesday at work was tricky. Stella is evil! Especially 4 or 5 pints of it on a school night.

I was stalking Ray Presto at Pearshaped on Wednesday, well I popped by and blagged my way in for a beer after my friend wanted to go home early and I still had the booze lust... It was suggested that I might want a spot there that night, but it didn't appear to be too easy or fun, so I decided against it. The beer was the real draw for me.

As it turned out, they were pulling the stage backing down and wanting to pack up before the last chap had even finished his set, so don't really think there was time for me to go on any way. The last act seemed mortified as well you might. I'm glad I popped by though as a lovely young chappy that I was speaking to suggested I try the Comedy Brewhouse in Islington for stage time, Fridays or Saturdays, so I'm going to go along this evening and see what the score is.

I got taken out to dinner last night. Yes these things happen - very occassionally... Had a nice night except I felt like death warmed up after having spent the previous evenings downing copious amounts of booze. Then the tricky moment at the end of the night, where I'd been umming and arring as to whether this was someone I wanted to take things further with and he suggests a kiss .... Aaargh. I had to make that awful decision there and then. I decided No. I think things were left amicabally, if a little awkwardly... I'm fairly sure we shall go out again and at least we both know where we stand and that we aren't taking things along the route to romance.

He is a very nice guy, but I just wasn't feeling that extra spark. We had a delicious Thai meal though and that did help with the hangover a little, but not enough. On the plus side, I felt far too ropey to continue my pattern of extreme drinking, so today I'm enjoying the benefits of easing up on that front at last.

In other news:

Spikey Mike, the comedy mogul of the Midlands, was updating his comic contact spreadsheet and sent round an email asking the usual questions. Are you still doing it, where are you based and do you drive...

It pains me to say yes to that question, as I hate driving so much, but it is a well known fact in comedy that if you drive, you get more gigs for ferrying other comics about. Well the sooner I start getting my confidence up and using this precious gift the better.

Within minutes of replying to Spikey Mike's database update, I was offered a spot at the Leicester Gong tomorrow (if I could give people lifties.) What the hell - I don't mind being exploited for my driving skills and car ownership... Two people are meant to need lifts, but only one has been in touch so far. He hasn't mentioned petrol money - only the offer of a werthers original. Could be interesting.

I was planning on popping into the Amused Moose Qualifier tomorrow, but it takes all afternoon and I will be cutting it too fine in relation to when I need to set off for Leicester, so now I'm leaving the comp entry till the very last minute and planning to go along to that on Sunday Evening after the zoo...

One way or another, I'll be doing my 30th gig this weekend and if the wind is in the right direction and all three comedy spot ideas come to fruition, I'll be up to 32...wowee...

Could be a busy weekend ahead - well I at least seem to have free'd up tomorrow daytime for cleaning, relaxing and kitty strokage.

Cornwall - the other days and back to Grey Old London

I left you with the promise of day two, Friday, in Cornwall being a sunny beauty and it didn't disappoint. We went walking on the cliff tops with Jacob, Mike's naughty doggie and had ice cream on the beach and pints of cider on the sunny balcony at Viccy's local - the Tredrea. We went home and had some food before returning to the pub for open mic night. open mic for music though, so I didn't do a Goddard and wrestle the mic from some poor unsuspecting folk guitarist, just to try and slip in a few funnies. ;-) The pub was lively, the music was jolly and we all got rather drunk and had a splendiforous time. 

In a drunken fug, Viccy hatched an evil plan to set me up with one of the few local single men available, in order that I'd fall in love with more than just the Cornish Coastline and want to move down there for good. She has always had it in for London and been unconvinced that it is the best place for me. What a silly plan it was... I can't be duped that easily. Can I?

Cut to Saturday, the sun continued to shine and Viccy and I ventured into Padstow to try and have a jolly ride on one of the boats that chugs around the area. It was low tide when we got there. No boats! The place was packed with tourists, the very sight of which disagreed with Viccy's delicate "I'm a local" sensibilities.  We got ourselves a Chough pasty (the best in Cornwall) and retreated quickly from the tourist trap to get ready for a BBQ and Easter Egg Hunt at Viccy's that evening. We made a quick stop for a few more pints at the Tredrea balcony on the way...

BBQ/Easter Egg Hunt all good fun and once the BBQ was enjoyed and the Eggs all found, a small select group of us Easter Bunnies wound up tired and slobbed out in front of a film at V's place for a fairly quiet Saturday night in. 

A still sunny but slightly subdued Sunday followed as we mooched back to the beach, paddled in the sea and I felt sorry for myself that I had to return to shoddy old London. 

Viccy shouldn't need evil plans. Who could fail to love Cornwall, especially when the sun shines? Having said that, I'm not moving anywhere just yet. They don't have a comedy circuit for one thing. However, I am courting controversy by trying to talk the Oggy family into a week on the Cornish Coast in Summer instead of a week by the Italian lakes. If they go for it, its all fingers and toes crossed that the weather doesn't let us down...

Gig at Party Piece tonight. Better get a few jobs done about the flat before its time to go. My extra day off has been highly unproductive. 

Cornwall - Day One.

My host is making the most of Good Friday and having a lay in. I couldn't resist bringing my faithful mac, so I'm just sending you my hollibobs update while she is snoozing. . . I may have to abandon blog and go eat hot cross buns at any moment. Poor old me. Its a hard life here in the West Country...

So I arrived safely in "Sunny Cornwall". It was raining!! I did arrive safely, but it wasn't the best train journey ever. I had a seat reservation on a 4 pm train to Bodmin Parkway, but as Viccy had been in Plymouth on Wednesday night visiting her parents, she offered to meet me there earlier in the day and she would drive the rest of the journey. 

With this offer in mind, I decided to get the midday train instead, but hadn't thought to change the seat reservation. I soon regretted that omission from my plans because everyone and their dog was on the train to Cornwall that I got on. I guess all trains are busy before the long bank holiday, but that is why the reserved seat is such a precious commodity.

I found a seat that wasn't reserved until Reading, so as that was the only available option, I thought at least I'd get to sit the first half hour of the three hour long journey. Then at Reading, a woman with a lapdog and two young girls noisily boarded the train and it was clear enough to me and to another young lady I was sat next to, that we were in their seats. However, the lapdog, the two kids and the Reading woman were not so quick to catch on. 

I wanted to speak out, the seats were reserved all the way to Penzance, there were no others spare and the woman was bound to figure it out eventually. The thing was, to offer up my seat was to make my squatting neighbour get up too. She was taking the keep your head down approach. I didn't want to be a grass, so I let the family work it out for themselves, which involved a trip to the next carriage as well and did take them about fifteen minutes. When they finally twigged, myself and my neighbour were out on our ear, all of us being very British and apologetic though. 

By then the train was full to the brim and even the best standing spots had been taken. I had to stand in the aisle between seats for almost two hours of the journey, getting pushed and shoved and meeting everyone needing the loo or the buffet in a more intimate way than I might have liked. Initial meetings - as people tried to shuffle, wiggle and squeeze by me on their way to the toilet or to fetch their overpriced cup of tea, could be a bit awkward, but the return journeys were usually nicer. People had a sense of relief and perhaps a slice of shortbread to look forward to, they would shuffle by with a smile of recognition and a huff and a puff at the terrible inconvenience of it all. I was even exchanging numbers with a few weak bladdered souls by the time we reached Exeter and a seat by me became available...

I at least had 40 minutes or so to wind down from all the standing, shoving and squeezing before I had to meet Viccy at Plymouth station.

From Plymouth things still did not run as smoothly as we might have liked. Along the A38 or whatever the A road we were pelting along was... A bird (crow we thinks) stopped in the road ahead of us, pecking at some road kill and Viccy kept driving, assuming the bird would leave in good time. Birds usually do. This bird didn't. It was stupid or deaf or both. It took off way too late, smashed into the car and left blood all along the driver side windows and more disturbingly than blood. It left indistinguishable yellow gloop. Cerebral fluid? Bile? It was utterly unpleasant and stomach churning, whatever it was... 

A stop off at Morrisons for supplies doubled as an opportunity to take the car through the car wash. I like going through the car wash, it feels like something you might experience at Thorpe Park. Unfortunately, it took a while, queueing behind people who had ordered the silver or gold wash cycle. Made our bronze two minutes in the blustery foamy heaven seem all too short. It removed most, but not all of the evidence of our killing spree. 

When we arrived back at Viccy's place just before six (never seem to get much change out of seven hours with the door to door journey here.) the weather was dreadful. Grey, raining and windy too. We settled in for the night, with vague plans to maybe go to the pub later, but for the time being we weren't going anywhere... Viccy got a fire roaring and she made a delicious Vegetable curry. I helped - I did some chopping and opened beer. The curry was amazing. We had yummy Indian snacks and naan bread too. Then had Cadbury's chocolate Easter nest cakes for afters and they were bloody lovely as well. Mmmmm greed. Why not hey?

We watched TV and we chilled out together. Mike arrived back from work about half nine, we continued watching TV...Viccy apologised for having a hangover and not being her usual self. She had been up until 2 on Wednesday, drinking whisky with her Dad and her Sister... She needn't have apologised. I'm pleased to be out of London for a few days. It's good to be with friends. As it happens, calm hungover Viccy seemed lovely to me. She was apparently feeling like a sack of shite though, so that can't have been nice for her.

Its the start of day 2 now. The sun in shining. I've just made a coffee. Viccy will probably be up soon. She said 10 she'd be up, it is half past now, but I'll let her off. Today I will take pictures and my next update will be a pleasure for the eyeballs. This is all very wordy. I can only apologise. Here is an executive Summary for the more hurried reader.

1. Train Packed had to stand
   
2. Killed Crow
   
3. Arrived in Rain
4. Ate Curry. Not crow curry though - that would be awful.
   
5. Drank beer, ate cake, watched TV
6. Went to bed
7. Got up, sun shining.

I left it at the end though so likelihood is you'll have already wasted your time with the long prose. ha ha ha ha. sad joke of mine there. I can be to the point, if I want to, but I didn't want to spoil a good story too early on. 

I'm going to get those hot cruss buns toasting. If that doesn't get her shaking a leg, I don't know what will. 

Hollibobs.

I'm here at work for my last day, before MY BIG 6 DAY BREAK. Anyone would think I'm off for 6 weeks with the way I'm feeling. I'm ever so pleased with myself. And I'm off to the beautiful Cornish coast tomorrow until Sunday. Padstow on the North coast is the closest place on the above map to where I'll be staying, (hope this helps potential stalking...) but my friends home is in a very remote little spot (remote? that is the last thing I need to be telling stalkers... scary)near Padstow / St Merryn with a view of fields and beach. Pure beauty it is.

So remote is that part of the world - I don't get a phone signal. It takes me a day or two to calm myself down from that inconvenience. It should be a treat and I'm rarely missing anything important because of it, but to me it feels like I've lost a limb or something. Not entirely unlike Barry's ladder man. I make regular excuses to go into town or to Tesco where there is a signal and I can check my phone. It is ever so sad. You can take the girl out of the city. . .

The phone is the only downside. I love Cornwall and my oldest bestest buddy* lives there and we always have brilliant adventures together. Plus I'm out of the office for six whole days. Yaaaaayyyy. I've already done a giddy little dance of joy and had a little sing song, "It's my last day. I'm off for six days. I'm going to Cornwall to see my buddy." A sight to behold for all my hard working colleagues.

I will endeavour to blog from the West Country. I'm trying to resist nerdily taking my own laptop and may have to ask to borrow one, but if I'm at the beach and/or smashed on Cornish Rattler cider the whole time as I kind of intend to be, I might not bother blogging, in which case - I'll share the highlights upon my return on Sunday. Mwah, fanx my daahlings xxx

*not old as in creeky, old as in I met her 14 years ago and even though we are far apart, we keep in touch and she means the world to me. Not bestest London buddy - that is different. you know who you are Sprog xx

Pictures.

One of my favourite blogs, if not my absolute favourite blog: "I have a blog now??" by the Excellent Debut-Novice Blogger - Becki Sproglet has always got lovely pictures and funnies to put the reader at ease and add a little sparkle to the always amusing and thought provoking text.


This has been bugging me a few days now - I've been thinking "I want more images, more glamour in my blog." I thought about adding one of my special photos that I keep on a memory stick at home under lock and key and usually only bring out during extra special instant messenger conversations. Then I thought no, lets put up a pussy shot.


So this is my image for today: from a favourite site of Sproglet and I: I've written plenty about being down in the dumps in my first month or so on the blog. I liked that this was about grumpiness and it did make me chuckle.



Special note to Barry. Sorry the stalking has been dull of late (noticed on Peter's comments). I'm going to have to go out of my way to jazz this sh*t up now. Aaaaah, the pressure. Quite sweet that stalking me ever sustained any level of interest for you in the first place. You really should get out more.

2 in a day sproglet. Hope that suffices for now :)

Because I haven't blogged in 5 days.

Aren't blogs always full of useless waffle about people you don't really want to read about? What a waste of internet gigabytage.

On that note. I haven't written for days, I'm getting stick about not putting in the effort and I thought I better get on to it. Anything worth telling you? No, not really. Very little it is fair to say. I'm writing anyway, got to please the regulars...

I went to my improvisation course on Saturday and Sunday. It was good. It was fun. I was poor to average in the world of improv, but apparently that is to be expected if you've done little to no improvisation ever in your life. The tutor was a really funny guy and knew his stuff, but as a tutor was a little bit wayward and could even be accused of time wasting at points. *gasps*

Day one was better. I wasn't so hungover and I think as the games got more complicated on day two, people were just getting a little bit more confused. Thing is, unless I join an improv group it isn't something I'm going to be able to make a huge amount of use of. It has things that make you think outside of improv world, but overall is a pretty specific skill and you generally need more than one person to make it work.

If the opportunity arises, I'd certainly give it another go.

It was nice to see Debbie. She made me a jacket potato for my lunch and then we had beers after the course. Debbie, her brother Gary and I went to The Albert pub and had lots and lots of beer and a really good laugh. There was a really friendly puppy that I couldn't stop flirting with. Aaaaah puppies.

On Sunday, I left the other improvers and went to the zoo for my lunchtime entertainment. Saw Animal Adventure, the new exhibit (cool) and went for cheap chips in the canteen. The course was a bit more of a drag as I was feeling tired, but still ok. The Beckster and I went back to The Albert on Sunday, but I only had 1 diet coke, then 1 shandy. I was driving home that night. Thankfully.

I've got a cold and a cough. Not cool.

I'm only working Monday to Wednesday, then I've got six days off over Easter. In fact. I'm only working 3 or 4 days every week throughout April and May. Maybe I can stick the job out for a little while longer until June at least...

Cornwall at the weekend. Looking forward to that.

Pearshaped the mini blog.

Yes it was Pearshaped last night. My most ardent followers, B & B have asked how it went.

I was very tired and in a stonkingly grotty mood with very little ooompf whatsoever prior to the gig. I was ooompfless in the extreme. After the shambles that was Monkey Business the week before, I didn't want to do the usual 7 again. My plan B wasn't up to much though. I'd been given the new April issue of our company magazine yesterday and I thought I might just talk about that instead, but couldn't bare to actually read the thing in preparation. Going on stage with no actual gags and not reading the thing you plan to take the piss out of, is not highly recommended in comedy circles. Looks like I may have to stick with the stinky seven. Oh shit - just shoot me now I thinks...

I cheered up a lot when Ray Presto arrived in the pub. Well seeing Ray would be fun, even if I did end up being terrible myself. Then when we went down to the basement where they put on the comedy - I was super brave and asked if I could go in on the first half, thinking lets get this over with and get sh*t faced. 

I was offered 3rd spot - a fine spot. I was pretty pleased with that since I usually take whatever I'm given and often get on so late neither the audience or I have enough energy to care. I don't remember much about the two acts before me. One was a girl. She talked about stoning disabled people. (she wasn't advocating that though.)

So, I went with the magazine idea. Erm yeah. Work magazines hey. They're funny. Aren't they? Anyone? No? Actually it was alright. Good so people said. They might just have been being nice. I don't like to cheese people off who do take the time to think jokes through and write them down or even keep a joke spreadsheet, (believe me I wish I could be arsed with all that,) but just messing about with the magazine was fun. I don't think I was mean about the people there-in, which was pointed out to me as a danger beforehand. It was not the set I've been screwing the arse out of - for the last eight months and I didn't use the word seven once, so all in all - not bad. People laughed and said nice things afterwards - thats what I'm in it for. 

Goddard got up with some of his "material". That old school - look at me I write my jokes approach. Some old nonsense about being a marketing consultant is it? He got up at a point when someone had dropped out and the compere was looking a bit lost having read out their name - and they simply weren't there. PG saw that opportunity like he would spot a lone young lady across a crowded bar and be by her side quicker than rat up a drainpipe. There he was prising the mic out of the unsuspecting compere's little mit. 

No fair enough, he saw the vacant slot, he filled it (ahem) and he was good after a stumbly start. 

Enough about us though. what do we know?

Ray Presto - He the man!!!! I think mostly due to the second row (where we sat), we spread that laughter like wild fire. But we can't take the credit - No because Ray was ace. A legend. He got invited back on at the end he was so good - yeah he got two sets out of it and was like a god.

Another fine night at Pearshaped. Oh there were other comics too and a man with a banjo. It was a tip top feel good evening in a dodgy basement near Goodge Street. You can't argue with that.

April Fool's Day.

Pizza Hut wrote to me, they said I could get my portrait on a pizza. I think it might have been their idea of an April Fool.

Very tired this afternoon. It has been a busy day at work pretending to the new manager that I'm an important cog in the Housing and Adults Social Services Performance machine. So far, I quite like the new manager. I have been known to speak too soon though.

I have a gig tonight at Pearshaped. Not quite sure where I'm going to find the energy for that. Well it is only five minutes and if I use my low energy stillness tactic again, perhaps I'll get away with it.

The manager that isn't line managing me anymore sent me a pdf document today. Quite out of the blue, tacked onto a note about an anuual leave request - He said, just in case your parents haven't sent you this already ... and it was an article about a book called 50 ways to find a lover. I thought it was very funny that even a man who line managed me for no more than 3 months is showing interest and support in getting me paired off. We talked a lot in those three months though...

Yeah, after he accidentally found out I was unhappy in my work, we had some chats... I must have really opened up and told him about my brother's happy family life and how my Mother must be quite dismayed that I can't manage to get myself a similar set up. Anyway - the book itself is chicklit, that I probably won't get around to reading. What I liked about the article was that finding a man mostly seems to revolve around getting drunk. Can't be all bad, I'm half way there then!

Ooooh this tiredness. I might be talking myself out of the gym after work. Hmmmm. I should try and talk myself back into that.