Oh, Jaysus! Be careful what you wish for! It’ll only go and happen! I take it back! My last wish is for more wishes! “Oh, yes it is!” “Oh, no it isn’t!” Repeat.
I wished to be very busy. It has happened. I am very busy and I am flattened. Very, very grateful, but flattened. If I see that feckin’ genie, I’m going to kill him, the literal fecker. I’m so busy that this isn’t even today: I’m writing this days ago, when I got a chance.
I’m not off to Hollywood, or even Bollywood, although my fiancé might be – and who’ll walk the dog then, or call and see if I want chips or pop out to buy Nurofen? He’s been amazing, but if he gets this job I’ll either starve or have a head explosion or have to train the dog to go to the pharmacy (both for his own exercise and to get me drugs for the stupid stress headaches that keep on coming).
Everything that comes in to make me more busy is great, and welcome – but it means that a day when I thought I could just learn some lines for the Comedian’s Theatre Co. rehearsed reading next week (are you doing it? Me too!), and get to the gym, and let as many people as possible know about the London Comedy Improv Christmas Thang is instead spent doing all of the above plus more line-learning plus accent research. It’s just for an audition – I may not even get it, but if you don’t do the crime…Sorry, wrong analogy. What I mean is that I hate being unprepped. I hate it when other people are unprepped, but myself even more so. So I have to do it. Add to that the ongoing Home Office stress of the buyer of chips being American and you get the picture: bye bye time for a cuppa, hello headache.
I did manage to get to Karaoke Circus last week and it was superb. It was in Bethnal Green Working Men’s Club and when I was asked what I wanted at the bar, I quickly changed my order from Sauvignon Blanc to Vodka & Tonic. I didn’t want to be punched for being soft. Should’ve had an ale; still almost got punched. But watching Chris Addison, Dave Gorman, Margaret Cabourn Smith and the fabulous Kevin Eldon up there, strutting their Christmas stuff, was hilarious and brilliant. I’m smiling through the diminishing Nurofen haze right now.
But I almost didn’t go to that. If I hadn’t booked the tickets a month before, I wouldn’t have, but as it is, I am cheap. There is so, so much to do that any socialising just sends me into hefty guilt spasms. I’m even feeling guilty for writing this, and had better get backsharpish to finding out which vowel goes where (two days ago, when I had the chance).
The great things about the next few weeks are: singing with Lenny Beige at the Pigalle (fancy!) on the 21st. Mick’smas: a dinner for very, very old Irish friends now based in London – can’t wait. Christmas with the fiancé with the phones off. A lovely audition I didn’t know I’d have (fingers crossed for the vowel sounds) and last but not least The London Comedy Improv Christmas Thang. Some lovely guests are popping in. You should too.
Right. My Nurofen’s here. Catch you on the flip side.
