Monday 31 March 2008

Giggidy Gig

I've Got 3 gigs this week. That's a lot for me. I don't quite know what to do with myself.

Obviously I enjoy doing them, else I wouldn't do them, surely? but it stresses me out just to think about them. So I don't, and then I'm really under prepared and I stress extortionately.

Some gigs are wonderful. Some are not. Last night was not the best of gigs.

We were doing a set at 'Laughing Stockwell' which, in principle, should be an awesome alternative comedy club. The venue is brilliant, it's just like the room where the backwards talking dwarf from Twin Peaks lived. If you are a Twin Peaks fan, like moi, you will find this both thrilling and quite unnerving.

There were only 7 people in the audience. Sometimes this can result in a beautiful, intimate gig. Most of the time it ends up as a pretty rubbish one. This was the latter.

Because, you see, there were only 7 audience members, and of those 7, maybe 2 were alternative thinkery (clever) enough to keep up with most of the acts, and even if you keep up, you might not find it funny. It was not a barrel of laughs. It was a medium wine glass of laughs.

So, I compel you, if you live in South London and you are clever and enjoy quirky, experimental comedy, to get your behind (plus rest of body and money for entry (£4) down to 'Laughing Stockwell' on a Sunday night.

Saturday 29 March 2008

High Brow

Here's a confession, I waxed my eyebrows this weekend for the first in in about a year.

So now I look significantly less like Ronnie Corbett than I would wish, but still enough like him to keep my boyfriend happy.

The reason I left it so long was because I wanted to get it done professionally, you know, by one of those intimidatingly made-up women who waxes you and never flinches at your glass-shattering screams. That's what I wanted. But I totally chickened out. I spent about 2 months walking past the various hairdressers and beauty salons on my way home and checking the price of an eyebrow shape/wax.

I wasn't scared of the pain, goodness no! I rather like it, it makes me feel alive. I was scared of the women themselves. And of looking like a buffoon. Also, I am still distrustful of anyone altering my appearance after the horrendous Toni and Guy debacle.
However, I have just booked a holiday (I have been obsessing about it) and I need to get my pins waxed. But I know I will wuss out of going to get someone professional to do it and I will do it myself, which is a lot worse, in my opinion. So how do I pluck (pun intended) up the courage to go to a salon? Is there a particular kind of salon that is better for this sort of thing. Does anyone recommend a particular salon for a first timer? All help greatly appreciated. Not just by me, but by the world too. My legs are so hairy I'm sure they are significantly contributing to global warming.

Thursday 27 March 2008

Age is in the eye of the beholder

I was having lunch and trying to write in Cafe Tuga (as I am often wont to do) when I was coyly approached by a young lady.

She stood about 3 metres away and coquettishly looked my way. So I told her what a pretty dress she was wearing - which she was, a purple fairy number - and she brushed herself down and looked very pleased.

She edged closer and climbed up on a chair about a metre from me. We continued our conversation and then I heard the most lovely adorable thing I've heard in aaaages.

I asked her how old she was and she told me that she was three and a quarter. First - awww! Then she asked me how old I was so I said, why don't you have a guess.

She sat there and screwed up her face as she had a good think about it. Finally she said "two?"

Awwww!!

She thought I was younger than her! I'm 23!

Saturday 22 March 2008

It's snow joke.

The world is in somewhat of a pickle. It snowed today. And is now gloriously sunny. A friend of mine on Facebook had his status as wondering 'who left the weather on demo' and that was making a lot of sense.

The weather has been completely barmy recently. Fortunately I own, not one, but two pairs of wellington boots. They are awfully pretty AND practical. I bought my first pair because I was on the verge of getting trench foot, despite owning upwards of 30 pairs of shoes, nearly all of them were useless in anything other than obliterating sunshine. So, I went to my favourite place - the internet of course, and found some beeeeeyouteefull wellies for only £17.

On my January trip to Paris though, they broke! I think the Eiffel Tower done 'em in. We did walk up it, after all.

Fortunately I was bestowed with newer and even lovelier wellies on Valentine's day. I later found out they were bought in Leicester. Possibly they are the only good thing to have come out of Leicester. The three times that I have been there have been underwhelming at best.

What I'm saying is, don't get angry about the weather, just invest in some trendy waterproofs.

Monday 17 March 2008

St Patrick's Day?

Why does the entire world go bonkers for St Patrick's day? Although, having been so caught up in the red tide that was the Welsh 6nations campaign, I barely noticed its arrival this year.

In fact, I only became aware of it being St Patrick's day as I walked to work and passed 'The Toucan' on Wimpole Street. It's a classic Guinness pub, its mascot being the Guinness toucan from the old advertising. I walked passed and it had inflatable green hats and inflatable giant pints of Guinness dangling from the awning. I thought 'is someone having a birthday or something?' before realising that, of course, it was the day that people use as an excuse to get drunk in the name of a man no one knows anything about.

Well, I know a thing or two. St Patrick was a Welshman, you know. Also, this year March 17th was not St Patrick's day as the Pope disallowed it to happen in the same week as Good Friday. So the official Catholic stance was that it was to be celebrated on Saturday the 15th March. But clearly everyone was too busy enjoying Wales being awesome at rugby, and the Irish were down and out after a shabby performance at Twickenham. So poor old St Paddy has not had a great 2008. Was there a parade or something? Who cares?

My best St Patrick's day was a rather illicit one. I scived off school, aged 15, to meet some friends in the pub. I had about four pints of Guinness and was in bed by about 6pm. I remember it was a glorious day and I had a lovely sleep.

Thursday 13 March 2008

The Other Half

I had a meeting today at Shoreditch House. It was one of those times where you are given a sneaky peek into a way of life that is almost inconceivably different to your own.

What a place. I think it was a big old factory or something and it's been turned into a super trendy member's club in the heart of the East end.

It's so cool. The style of the place is like a bunch of squatter artists have taken over and designed it to look effortlessly stylish, mega trendy and subversively expensive. It has a gym, a billion bars, a rooftop restaurant with panoramic views over the construction of the East London overland line (not so good), and an outdoor heated rooftop terrace swimming pool. Lovely.

The only problem is that being there can make you feel like a bit of a tosser. Especially if you have any level of social conscience.

It reminded me of the time I worked at Lord's in the hospitality boxes. My goodness, people have money to burn. Lord's is a beautiful place, but some of these corporate guests were spending over £2000 a day on food and drink alone. But then not tipping a penny! I've postulated before that the rich stay rich because they hardly tip. The most generous people are often the ones who can least afford it.

I wish I could afford it. I'd tip loads, I promise.

Monday 10 March 2008

Slam Dunk Da Funk

I'm afraid with it being Six nations season I am completely unable to focus on anything other than that. My entire life revolves around the WRU at the moment. The amount of times a day I check the BBC website, and the RBS website and the WRU website is borderline psychotic.

However, I'm having a whale of a time. It is difficult to explain to someone who is not a Welsh( or Scottish, Italian or maybe even Irish) rugby fan why this is such a wonderful campaign.

To have been so immeasurably rubbish at the World Cup was really embarrassing. I cried after the Fiji match. It was arguably one of the best matches in World Cup history, for neutrals, but I wept. I lay on my kitchen floor and I sobbed.

Yes. I am a loser.

But not this 6Nations I ain't! For a tiny country to do so well after such drubbings is heart-warming and life-affirming. Like the film Wimbledon.

I suggest for those who are interested but don't quite get it, to get themselves to Cardiff this Saturday. There will be an awe-inspiring atmosphere. Alternatively, for those of us stuck in West London, The F3K may well prove to be a home from home, and if it's anything like it was last Saturday then it'll be a cream cracker of a game and a great experience.

Wednesday 5 March 2008

March Madness

Ah March.

Already it is nicer. The sun has got his hat on, the daffodil ls are making their annual joyful appearance and mums across the country are getting spoiled.

Here is a joke I made about that.

In the Tescos in the BBC media village they had a little stand with flowers and chocolates and teddy bears and a big sign saying 'Spoil Your Mum' and my suggestion as to how to spoil one's mum was to throw red wine on her. I'm pretty sure that would spoil her.

Anyway.

It's quite a nice start to the month. I sent my gran some flowers from the internet. They were pretty cheap (relatively, flowers are generally really expensive, especially if you have them delivered) but please don't tell her. I did quite a bit of internet research to find the bestest, cheapest ones.

I don't like actual real life florists much. Although the shops are lovely and smell like a delicious meadow based dream, I find them weird places to be in. The people who work there intimidate me. I realise I am making a huge generalisation about people who work in florists. Also, I don't mean people who sell flowers outside tube stations or in markets, that's a different kettle of freesias. I mean ones in shops, with big fancy displays and bows.

Additionally I worry that the cut flowers industry is contributing to the demise of planet Earth and that I shouldn't encourage it. At the same time, flowers are lovely aren't they?

I'm going to try growing some window boxes on my windowsill (where else can you have a window box?). Surely that's good for the environment. And pretty. And will deter burglars from my window as I will grow robber-eating plants.

Does anyone know where I can get these from?