Hello there,
Welcome to my fifth blog. My entries seem to be getting more and more sporadic, but, thank you for taking the time to come back and read. Maybe, possibly, hopefully, it might be worth it in some way.
So, I've been in my new home for a month now. Our house warming was last Friday, it was a lovely night, old friends, new friends, drinking at a respectable level, an Abigails Party-esque buffet, and an aftermath so messy it made Haiti look like a jumble sale.
I both love and hate parties. I love them for their bringing together of people, the excuse to sleep in all day the next day, the hosting, the forming of new friendships and the ability to dance (albeit after a few drinks) to pretty much anything that is played on the party playlist (oh yes, we do things properly here).
I do hate however that sinking feeling of the text message after text message "sorry I can't make it". The invention of Facebook invites us to false hope that the whole cyber community will arrive on the doorstep holding booze, sausage rolls and packets upon packets of ever hopeful contraception.
Parties also remind us of all those people we probably should speak to more often, but don't, either because we feel we would be bothering them, or that we are waiting for them to "make the effort" when secretly we know they got in touch last time and we were too busy to reply. They remind us of the people we miss, and of the good times when we used to drink, flirt, play and laugh, when life was one long party that everyone came to, everyone was together at and for which everyone was care-free.
We are adults now, and things change.
But, as they change, we learn, or at least, we should learn, that sometimes it is for the best. I go back at Christmas time to where I used to live, and see the same old friends, in the same old pub, damaging their same old liver, to try and forget about their same old kids that they never intended to have in the first place but they did because they wanted to be talked about. Sometimes change is what is needed, sometimes it is the only thing that gives an excuse to break free of our daily cycle.
Starburst, sure they used to be Opal Fruits, but they learnt, sometimes we need something different to make us stand out. I was at a comedy club recently where an audience member got into a conversation with a performer about "Oil of Ulay" (don't ask me why) the comic looked at him, joked and fooled about his mistake, maybe Oil of Ulay meant better things to this person, life when Cocoa Pops were unaware of the Chocco Crispies fiasco around the corner, and when Jif was quite happily rolling off the British tongue, while in some marketing headquarters in seedy Soho, the Cif label was all ready to be created for the foreign market.
Sure, there are more pressing issues than sweets and cleaning products, but it is interesting how easily we move on and forget the little things that we just take for granted. Whether its our breakfast cereal, or the girl we used to walk to school with everyday, who we now no longer see because circumstances have dragged us apart.
I also remembered why you should never be a comedian at a party. Because everyone wants you to be "on form", whether it is the guy from your mates office who has always wanted to "give it a go" or the slightly too drunk Hoxton chick who admires your extreme bravery. All the while, the nurse who saves peoples lives everyday is being fingered in the loo by a man she just met because he wears a suit jacket and has a double barrelled surname, not because he likes her, or wants to speak to her again, but because he can.
As I sit typing, the music on my ipod nano (remember when they were cool?) is constantly changing, loud upbeat jolly music, slow melancholic chords, and that song that was cool three years ago, but now isn't because your dad can appreciate it's popularity.
Sometimes we look forward to the change, the not knowing, the belief that our problem clouds will clear, leaving space for a ray of hope.
I knew when, on my birthday, my new house mates made gingerbread men that something good was about to happen. It's a big step up from my ex-housemate making a birds nest crest of pubic hair in the bathroom. It speaks somewhat of more consideration and sincerity.
If you could change one thing in your life what would it be?
So, this week I have some big things lined up. I'm spouting more rubbish at my psychiatrist tomorrow. Maybe I should just read him this, and let the specialists cart me off, or let him remind me of any bodily imperfections I may have learned to forget about.
Thursday I am making a change, and going to a music gig. The thought of jumping around with a room full of people I don't even know has always been uncomfortable. I've been to two music gigs in my life. Oasis in Southampton some 5 or more years ago, a jam packed sweat fest of an outdoor gig, with flying cups of piss slowly fermenting under the summer sun, and a beautifully intimate performance by Vijay Kishore in Balham a couple of years later, an accidental gig, but a stroke of luck that a gig was cancelled and I caught this.
I'm off to see Kate Nash doing a warm up gig on Thursday, I imagine there will be no piss, so I am looking forward to the change of scenery and maybe I just might jump about.
I miss lots of things in my life right now, lots of people (Seren I wish you all the happiness in the world), lots of memories, lots of security, but I love my new home, new friends, new ambitions, and my new haircut is all right too. Less floppy, more sustained, thanks Toni and your gentleman.
I guess that's enough for now. Blimey. Serious huh? Hope you enjoyed, thought, questioned and smiled.
For any comedy types out there, I am MCing at Up The Creek in Greenwich this Friday, it's a massive weekend club, and they always have great line ups so if you can make it down, please do. Saturday I'm doing a spot at The Comedy Store, which, continues to quite rightly be one of the best comedy clubs in the world. Let's see if I can change that...
Until next time. Stay happy.
Mayo x
Monday 8 March 2010
Wednesday 27 January 2010
Chapter 4: Moving on
Hello there,
It's been an interesting and as usual, stressful month since I last wrote. We are now in 2010 (if you were not aware), a new year, and a new start (he says optimistically).
I saw the New Year in, as I usually do, on my own, watching fireworks out of my window, hoping that the year ahead will bring about something new, exciting and refreshing.
I have been attempting to move house for sometime. If you haven't read my previous blogs, you will probably not quite understand the rage I have for my current flat and its contents (minus my duck popcorn maker, which to be fair, rules). I'm not a nasty person, but I really want to make my next door flat-cunt fully aware of how hideously repulsive he is. I have thought up many plans, but can't bring myself to do them. As rebellious as I have mustered so far is to put a bit of water in his washing up powder box, so it clumps together... a bit. Yeah you take that motherfucker. That'll teach you for pissing in the bath, I've made your washing powder slightly stickier than it was supposed to be. The good news is, I have finally found a place. Having found somewhere previously, I am prepared for it all to go tits up, but, this time I have paid lots of money, so the evil flat bastards should give in to my shiny pennies. (I paid by debit card, but, if I had pennies, by fuck they would shine).
So, I move in on Saturday, to my lovely flat in Islington, a new year, a new start, all that jazz (which subsequently is not allowed in the house after 11pm).
I had my first re-call audition for a Coke advert this week which was lots of fun. The first audition consisted of me wearing very tiny pants, with a girl also in very tiny pants, flirting with each other and hugging. My second unclothed job this month. Either someone has received the wrong memo, or my agent is very bored and enjoying the thought of lots of footage of me in pants circulating Londons top casting agencies.
The re-call was much the same, different girl this time, but I was very excited to be called back, for a job which is shooting in Argentina for a week, on the beach, on my birthday. I am willing to show my pants to the world if it means a holiday, the last of which was a Butlins style camp somewhere in England, with the parents. It was fun, but it doesn't have quite the same ring as drinks, sand and Sun.
I want to explore a bit this year, I love the idea of seeing the world, but have so far seen most of England, and a bit of France, I need to broaden my horizons, so what better way than getting a soft drink company to take me there on their corporate bandwagon.
My mental health is improving. I now have a psychiatrist, so I am now a fully fledged, damaged comedian. All going well so far, though I was a little disheartened by his question "Do you worry about how you appear at all? For example...your nose is too big, your arms are too long?" Gee, thanks for the suggestions Doc, there's another two sessions right there.
I've also started this year in love, with, as mad as it sounds, a (beautiful) girl I have never met, who lives in Manchester. I like to make things as humanly complicated for myself, but as I am a believer in 'everything happens for a reason', I couldn't really be happier. The sort of thing you see in films, I would imagine, then, they get together, one of them kills the other one, and it's got a big twist, like, she was his sister or something. I'm hoping that doesn't happen. I reckon we'll probably meet up, and go out, that would be nice. Yes please.
I haven't had that feeling for a while, the feeling when you see someone that makes you melt, takes away all your stress and fears, and reminds you that it is possible for a moment, however brief, to feel perfect. Then I go and stub my toe on the fridge and call it a cunt. Still, those preceeding moments much outweigh the bad stuff, and for that I am eternally grateful.
I got back into gigging this week, with a couple of gigs for The 99 Club. You forget after time off, how rewarding it is to see a room full of people laugh. I'm working towards my first hour show for the Edinburgh Festival, so will be gigging away like mad until May. If you are reading this and can squeeze me on anywhere, please do.
I bought a Wii Fit Plus (I roll my eyes at this point as the knob next door just slammed his door for god knows what reason. Why slam, when you can close huh? No doubt he is spying on me through some sort of hole while he jacks off into a bucket which he will later absorb through his gills to give him the nutrients he needs to carrying on being a prick. Or something) which is massively entertaining. I feel like I am being healthy, but really I am just moving on and off a plastic thing and tricking myself. Though the digital lady says I am doing very well, so I daren't disagree. There is something slightly soul destroying though about being able to do Yoga whilst eating sausage rolls though. The software is creepily realistic. My "trainer" had to take time out the other day because she wasn't feeling well. I paid £90 for this, and they want a day off? Get. Running. Bitch. Currently my Wii Fit age is 20, so I am doing well. Up to 30 press ups a day. I can't feel my arms, but it's progress.
I realise this is a long rambly blog, but lots has happened, apologies if it is dull, but you get to switch off, I am stuck with this.
Tomorrow I am mostly putting things into black bags, removing the boxes of stuff I put under my bed when I moved in two years ago, all still packed, ready to move onto the new place. I will be living on the floor like a skank for a few days while I wait to order my bed (the place is unfurnished, I'm not anal about beds) so, I will be paying to be a squatter in my own flat. It could be deemed a political statement against the lack of housing, and the increasing cost of living in Britain, but really, I'm a tard, I'm lazy and I have my sleeping bag and pillows.
By the next blog, I will make sense, have a new home, no doubt be preparing some sort of housewarming party, and most likely be auditioning for a new brand of anal cream.
Until then, have a happy few weeks, enjoy yourselves, and in the words of the lovely Paloma Faith (seriously, go see her, now), "play on" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qp-vj35i1U8
Chris x
PS. If you enjoy reading my blog, please do pass it about, comment, link, tweet, whatever you may do. Many thanks x
It's been an interesting and as usual, stressful month since I last wrote. We are now in 2010 (if you were not aware), a new year, and a new start (he says optimistically).
I saw the New Year in, as I usually do, on my own, watching fireworks out of my window, hoping that the year ahead will bring about something new, exciting and refreshing.
I have been attempting to move house for sometime. If you haven't read my previous blogs, you will probably not quite understand the rage I have for my current flat and its contents (minus my duck popcorn maker, which to be fair, rules). I'm not a nasty person, but I really want to make my next door flat-cunt fully aware of how hideously repulsive he is. I have thought up many plans, but can't bring myself to do them. As rebellious as I have mustered so far is to put a bit of water in his washing up powder box, so it clumps together... a bit. Yeah you take that motherfucker. That'll teach you for pissing in the bath, I've made your washing powder slightly stickier than it was supposed to be. The good news is, I have finally found a place. Having found somewhere previously, I am prepared for it all to go tits up, but, this time I have paid lots of money, so the evil flat bastards should give in to my shiny pennies. (I paid by debit card, but, if I had pennies, by fuck they would shine).
So, I move in on Saturday, to my lovely flat in Islington, a new year, a new start, all that jazz (which subsequently is not allowed in the house after 11pm).
I had my first re-call audition for a Coke advert this week which was lots of fun. The first audition consisted of me wearing very tiny pants, with a girl also in very tiny pants, flirting with each other and hugging. My second unclothed job this month. Either someone has received the wrong memo, or my agent is very bored and enjoying the thought of lots of footage of me in pants circulating Londons top casting agencies.
The re-call was much the same, different girl this time, but I was very excited to be called back, for a job which is shooting in Argentina for a week, on the beach, on my birthday. I am willing to show my pants to the world if it means a holiday, the last of which was a Butlins style camp somewhere in England, with the parents. It was fun, but it doesn't have quite the same ring as drinks, sand and Sun.
I want to explore a bit this year, I love the idea of seeing the world, but have so far seen most of England, and a bit of France, I need to broaden my horizons, so what better way than getting a soft drink company to take me there on their corporate bandwagon.
My mental health is improving. I now have a psychiatrist, so I am now a fully fledged, damaged comedian. All going well so far, though I was a little disheartened by his question "Do you worry about how you appear at all? For example...your nose is too big, your arms are too long?" Gee, thanks for the suggestions Doc, there's another two sessions right there.
I've also started this year in love, with, as mad as it sounds, a (beautiful) girl I have never met, who lives in Manchester. I like to make things as humanly complicated for myself, but as I am a believer in 'everything happens for a reason', I couldn't really be happier. The sort of thing you see in films, I would imagine, then, they get together, one of them kills the other one, and it's got a big twist, like, she was his sister or something. I'm hoping that doesn't happen. I reckon we'll probably meet up, and go out, that would be nice. Yes please.
I haven't had that feeling for a while, the feeling when you see someone that makes you melt, takes away all your stress and fears, and reminds you that it is possible for a moment, however brief, to feel perfect. Then I go and stub my toe on the fridge and call it a cunt. Still, those preceeding moments much outweigh the bad stuff, and for that I am eternally grateful.
I got back into gigging this week, with a couple of gigs for The 99 Club. You forget after time off, how rewarding it is to see a room full of people laugh. I'm working towards my first hour show for the Edinburgh Festival, so will be gigging away like mad until May. If you are reading this and can squeeze me on anywhere, please do.
I bought a Wii Fit Plus (I roll my eyes at this point as the knob next door just slammed his door for god knows what reason. Why slam, when you can close huh? No doubt he is spying on me through some sort of hole while he jacks off into a bucket which he will later absorb through his gills to give him the nutrients he needs to carrying on being a prick. Or something) which is massively entertaining. I feel like I am being healthy, but really I am just moving on and off a plastic thing and tricking myself. Though the digital lady says I am doing very well, so I daren't disagree. There is something slightly soul destroying though about being able to do Yoga whilst eating sausage rolls though. The software is creepily realistic. My "trainer" had to take time out the other day because she wasn't feeling well. I paid £90 for this, and they want a day off? Get. Running. Bitch. Currently my Wii Fit age is 20, so I am doing well. Up to 30 press ups a day. I can't feel my arms, but it's progress.
I realise this is a long rambly blog, but lots has happened, apologies if it is dull, but you get to switch off, I am stuck with this.
Tomorrow I am mostly putting things into black bags, removing the boxes of stuff I put under my bed when I moved in two years ago, all still packed, ready to move onto the new place. I will be living on the floor like a skank for a few days while I wait to order my bed (the place is unfurnished, I'm not anal about beds) so, I will be paying to be a squatter in my own flat. It could be deemed a political statement against the lack of housing, and the increasing cost of living in Britain, but really, I'm a tard, I'm lazy and I have my sleeping bag and pillows.
By the next blog, I will make sense, have a new home, no doubt be preparing some sort of housewarming party, and most likely be auditioning for a new brand of anal cream.
Until then, have a happy few weeks, enjoy yourselves, and in the words of the lovely Paloma Faith (seriously, go see her, now), "play on" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qp-vj35i1U8
Chris x
PS. If you enjoy reading my blog, please do pass it about, comment, link, tweet, whatever you may do. Many thanks x
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