Wednesday, 21 March 2012

Brief Encounters

A quick note to go with an amusing day. I arrived at work for the matinee this afternoon, and on arriving at stage door discovered a huge van, with a generator parked outside, with a little table under an awning. Turned out to be the catering van for the film that is being made locally. I saw some of it being filmed last week: it is to be called ‘The King of Soho’ and stars Steve Coogan (who I spotted last week) and Anna Friel. It is a biopic about Paul Raymond and is due to come out next year.  http://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-2114050/Steve-Coogan-Anna-Friel-start-shooting-The-King-Soho-porn-baron-biopic.html

Anyway, I had learnt through twitter that Chris Addison was due to be in it, but was still amazingly surprised when, as I was standing out in the sunshine savouring the spring-like weather before having to go inside, he walked straight past me! I didn’t recognise him at first as he was in a 1970s style costume and had grown a beard, with long hair. However, he wandered past again, allowing me to confirm it was indeed him. A few minutes previously, I had seen Peter come out of the stage door heading off to get a coffee. He then returned and I got to witness him greet Chris, laugh at his costume and have a chat with him (for those who don’t know, they co-starred in ‘The Thick of It’... although usually Peter’s character is yelling and swearing at Chris’ so it was pleasantly unusual to see them behave jovially towards one another!) Peter, clearly amused by the flares, then photographed Chris in his costume.



Whilst all this was going on, James turned up and signed some things for waiting fans. I watched and was surprised to see one woman hand him the sleeve from a ‘Sense and Sensibility’ DVD. That is one of my all time favourite films, but I had completely forgotten James was in it until that moment! I couldn’t resist mentioning it to him so, even though I know he hates making conversation, as soon as he turned to go in I said ‘Did you just sign something to do with Sense and Sensibility?!’ He said yes and I replied, ‘I love that film! I’d forgotten you were in it actually!’ (honesty is best policy). He laughed and said something about how he’d had very big sideburns for the part. You heard it here first, folks!

My latest discussion with Ben was regarding the delectable Jude Law who was in the stalls last night. I was filling him in on the way home as usual! On the way out tonight, I came up the stairs from stage just as he was at the door about to sign out. We had a fascinating conversation, which he opened:

“Jude Law, eh?”
“Eh, Jude Law!”
“Jude Law!”
“Jude Law!”

He then left. Who needs a vocabulary?!

As an update from before, I did indeed remember to tell Marcia Robbie’s message and she was delighted! We had Scottish person overload when Rab C Nesbitt (aka Gregor Fisher) came round to visit and my Glaswegian friend nearly died from starstruckness overload.

On Tuesday I went to watch the understudy performance of the show. It was quite a treat to see the show as an audience member: we sat very close in row B for the novelty of getting to sit anywhere but the very back and enjoyed wandering around at the interval (also enjoyed asking our friends who were working some of the annoying questions we’re always asked!) It was fascinating to see the understudies all perform together. James and Ben had to play their parts, but other than that it was all change. I have seen two of them do it before, but, as Marcia and Peter haven’t missed a show, it was the first time seeing Marcus and Beverley play the Professor and Mrs Wilberforce. With the same lines and characters being performed by almost a wholly different cast, it was a little like being in some kind of parallel dimension. They did very well though, and I am pleased they have all now had a go at performing those parts.



Beautiful weather has kept up: today I walked home in just a blazer jacket and we went for a Tesco lunch in Soho Square between shifts. I was in Kent at the weekend for Mother’s Day and the Westgate Gardens looked stunning in the sunshine.


I received a wonderful package in the post the other day from Katy, with an assortment of adorable photos of Joseph (my godson). He’s growing so fast! Has two little teeth and the most gorgeous smile.  Can’t wait to have the time to go home to give him cuddles. Things are rosy!

Tuesday, 13 March 2012

Spring

A report from the Box again, I’m afraid. It seems to be a good place to concentrate on writing: perhaps all the creative air in a theatre seeps into me via osmosis. Perhaps I just never get round to it when I’m at home. Either way, here I am.

I am entitling this post ‘Spring’ because it’s most definitely in the air. These past few days have been gloriously mild; daffodils are appearing in the parks, gardens and grass verges, and a few trees have bravely sprouted blossom. I have ventured out once without a coat and another time with just my thin Spring one on. I am being British and talking about the weather. Apologies. It does serve as a reminder, however, that when I first moved here, it was the tail end of summer, moving into autumn and so time is passing very quickly. In actual fact, as of next week I will have been here for six months.

Life is still grand, but the end of the show approaches. To rub this in, huge posters have appeared all over the underground for The Ladykillers with ‘MUST END SOON’ or ‘FINAL WEEKS’ blazoned across them. I wonder how many other people have to put up with their potential oncoming unemployment being advertised all over London?! Still, we still have a month and I’m trying not to worry, merely enjoy each day as it comes. And if I do worry, I simply conjure up Ben Miller’s words of wisdom to me: ‘You will flit to the next blossom’. I enjoy that. Makes me sound like a butterfly, floating on the breeze. Very poetic. It is either that or Stephen Wight’s words of wisdom: ‘just drink at home: it’s cheaper than going out’. Thanks for that, Steve!

I will certainly miss this show when it leaves, even if I find employment easily. Tonight, according to the notice board backstage, is the 111th performance. Staggering. I have such new found respect for actors. Each performance requires so much energy and they have to deliver it every night. Those who have had time off have only taken the minimum because they have been ill or having babies. Peter, Marcia and James have not missed a show. And they work during the day too. Serious respect.

I have developed a strange kind of pseudo-friendship with Ben, based on sharing our theatre celebrity spots over twitter. He got to know me and my name after the whole jacket potato conversation as described before, and since then always says ‘Hi Rachel’ when he sees me. However, things turned more interesting last week.

Last Monday, Hollywood actress Thandie Newton was in the stalls. I only caught a brief glimpse of her, but she seemed from what I heard very down to earth and unassuming. My manager relished the chance to treat her otherwise, leaping on her in order to escort her around, but she did not act like one might imagine an A lister to act like. The following night, apparently Alan Titchmarsh was in.

Now, this may seem like something of a anticlimax after an Oscar nominee. However, Ben seemed to find this fascinating and reported on twitter that Alan Titchmarsh was in the audience and how ‘starry’ things were getting. I replied by telling him that although she is no Titchmarsh, did he hear that Thandie had been in the night before? He copied and pasted my comment, only left off the Titchmarsh bit and reworded it himself, saying something like ‘yes, but come on, Titchmarsh!’ ie he stole my joke! The following day, Lenny Henry was in. I informed Ben over twitter, adding that I’m sure he would find it mundane after Alan, but he replied sounding interested. Thus, we seem to have reached an arrangement where we discuss all our celebrity encounters.

On Saturday night, everyone was quite excited as Robbie Coltrane was in Box A. I was on bar, and didn’t see him on the incoming, but was asked to prepare interval drinks for him, which I did. I had to sneak into the ‘royal room’ behind the box to set out the drinks, and heard his booming laugh from through the door. My friend Jess was visiting, and as I finished slightly early, I met her at the curtain call up in the Grand Circle where she was sitting. We were going out for a drink with the others after work, so I took her down to wait for them at stage door. The cast filtered out one by one, signing autographs for a small group of girls waiting there for them. After a while, Ben appeared, signed the programmes and walked straight up to me.

“Have you heard that Robbie Coltrane is in tonight?!” he said, excitedly.

“Yes, in Box A. I was on bar though so I didn’t see him.”

“And apparently Jimmy Page was in last night!”

“Oh, I didn’t know about that one!”

At this point he launched into a Jimmy Page impression, although how accurate it was I don’t know as I can’t conjure Jimmy Page’s voice to my head. I enquired as to whether or not these were good enough celeb spots and he said they were cool. “No Titchmarsh though, eh?” I commented. He laughed and agreed that Titchmarsh had been the pinnacle of his career to date, before leaving.

Sadly for him, Robbie Coltrane appeared out of stage door moments later with Peter. He hung around for a few minutes before hailing a taxi. He was just about to get in, when he beckoned me over; it was clearly obvious that I worked there. “Who was the old lady – I can’t remember her name?” he asked.

“Marcia Warren?”

“Tell her I thought she was fantastic – very good.”

I assured him I would, hopefully appearing cool whilst being slightly starstruck and amused that I had not only seen him when I thought I wouldn’t, but also had a conversation! And apparently was now a celebrity go-between.

James Fleet also seems to see me as a source of gossip thanks to social media. I tweeted last week that Jane Asher was in, and he later said himself  ‘Rumour that Jane Asher is in the audience’. It is funny that his rumours come from me! I replied, confirming this was true but adding that disappointingly she didn’t seem to have brought any cake mix. This he retweeted. On Sunday, I saw people wishing him a happy birthday, so did the same. Whereas to everyone else he replied with a simple smile or thank you, to me he said ‘Hey you, x. No famous people at radio recording, nothing to report.’ (he was working at a radio studio that day). So again, he feels he should share all his celebrity spots with me! Difference is he wouldn’t speak to me like that in real life.

He was the reason, I suppose, behind what would have been the best celebrity spot to date last weekend. I had a Saturday off, and knew I’d be punished for that. I was at a birthday party in Kingston and received a text message from Myles informing me that Dawn French was in the audience that night. Gutted. Apparently she was tiny and lovely, just as I expected! Very sorry to have missed her. On the plus side, Myles kept her ticket stub for me and I was having a wonderful time at the party, seeing some very old friends (by old I mean I have known them since I was a toddler), one of whom I hadn’t seen in three years. So it could have been far worse!

I have had a lovely few weeks outside of work too. I seem to have seen a lot of my friends. Ollie is back in the country. Three of my friends now have seen the show, which makes me happy. I went to an Idiot Bastard Band gig. I had a great afternoon in Madame Tussauds and visited the British Museum. With Jess at the weekend I walked on Primrose Hill in the sunshine. Last Sunday, Sophie and I holed up in the Hen and Chickens to pass a rainy afternoon. Emily came to stay and we shopped til we dropped. The weeks are passing quickly; I guess I must be having fun.

It is Lent. It took me a while to decide what, if anything, to give up. Every year I have this debate with myself, starting off by ruling out chocolate, which I have something of a dependency on. Myles planted the seed of an idea in my head on Shrove Tuesday as we were discussing the issue, and I decided to go with it. Thus, blaming him, for Lent this year I have given up meat, or, as one friend put it ‘have taken up vegetarianism’. It’s going surprisingly well. I haven’t struggled too much – I enjoy vegetarian food anyway – merely finding I just need to think more about what I am eating. For instance, if grabbing a sandwich out I need to stop myself automatically going for the chicken salad. At  the party last Saturday it was a case of avoiding the cocktail sausages. There have only been one or two occasions where it’s been difficult to turn down the carnivorous option: particularly bacon for breakfast. I am finding myself more hungry more often, and it has been quite eye-opening to notice sometimes how poor the vegetarian options are. Today in Tesco for instance, I wanted to pick up  a pasta salad to have for dinner later, and found only one which didn’t have chicken in it. On the flip side, however, I have cooked myself some lovely meat free meals and discovered my favourite post-pub sandwich from Subway is now the one featuring the veggie patty (doesn’t sound appealing, I know, but it’s surprisingly nice!). Nevertheless, I confess I am looking forward to tucking into a nice slab of meat on Easter Sunday: I certainly couldn’t take up vegetarianism full time!

I am aware this blog seems to be turning into some kind of celebrity gossip column, so I shall leave you by returning to the title with an image.


Happy Spring!

Thursday, 16 February 2012

All the World's a Stage

An appropriate metaphor, considering my position at the moment, and one to which I fully subscribe. I have come to be a believer in fate and can’t help but think of the things that have happened in recent years to be more than coincidence: things seem to happen in a way that feels they have been set out for me. Both good and bad, that is.

Characters have their entrances and exits. I am at times in a tragedy, at times in a comedy. Coincidences happen, the plot twists and my character learns and adapts.

I have begun to feel this all the more since the very day after my last blog. Enter stage right, Mr Peter Capaldi.

I was travelling to work for the matinee show and arrived at Oxford Circus tube station as usual. I stood on the escalator, allowing it to carry me up to street level, when who should pass me on the right, ascending the stairs two at a time? Our leading man! The coincidence of this is just so bizarre! I mean, how many people travel through that station every minute of every day? Anyway, shocked, I said hello and thankfully he recognised me. We passed through the barriers together, established we both used the same exit and it immediately dawned on me that we would be walking together all the way to work! A journey of around 1 mile, through Soho.

He was lovely and was happy to chat to me. He walked fast, so I had to scamper a little to keep up, but we talked the whole way about work, the play, accents, eating habits and the filming he was doing during the day (series 2 of the BBC show ‘The Hour’ – he said he was happy to do it as it was being shot not far from where he lives!) It was utterly surreal, walking and talking with a celebrity like that, as if it were completely natural!

And from there, things have become even more surreal. That very night, who should I spot in the audience but my friend and old English teacher! She didn’t know about any of my life and career changes, so it was something of a shock for her to see me there, but it was great catching up! In the same week one or two other old friends also got in touch out of the blue. And finally, we get onto the biggest development of all...

 A couple of weeks ago, I finally summoned the courage to ask my manager about the possibility of training to do stage door cover ie be the stage door keeper when the normal guys are away. My manager agreed and I began my training the following week.

On that first evening, I mainly had to listen whilst Phil went through everything with me. The job at its basic is a mixture of receptionist and bouncer; responsibilities include answering phone calls, taking deliveries, signing people in and out of the building and preventing anyone getting in who shouldn’t and giving out keys. At the end of the night I also do the final checks of the backstage areas and dressing rooms and put the final lock on the stage door, setting the security alarm.

The first night involved taking an awful lot of information on board, but it was good. Basically, there is little active stuff to do, but reacting to events when they do happen is vital. Thus, Phil talked me through various eventualities and I watched him do the outgoing. He also gave me a tour of the backstage area which was thrilling! I’ve always been fascinated by it, but never had the chance to look around rear of house here. He showed me the dressing rooms, sub-stage, the LX department, the wardrobe department and the fly room at the very top of the building. I met a lot of people who work rear of house I’d never met before and had to move quietly in certain areas as we were actually beneath the stage whilst the show was on. Finally, I went around with Phil into the dressing rooms (once the actors had left, of course!) to check everything was switched off and shut down.

On a slight side note, Peter had had a programme on TV on the preceding Sunday evening which I’d really enjoyed, and wanted to tell him so. On the day following my first training shift, I turned up in the evening as usual and Phil asked me to cover him for 2 minutes whilst he went to the toilet. Cue another random coincidence, as just as I’d sat down in the box, Peter appeared. Myles was there too and he struck up a conversation with Peter about ‘The Cricklewood Greats’ as I was fumbling about looking for his dressing room key. Myles, somewhat embarrassingly, informed Peter that I’d been ‘telling everybody to watch’ it: he told me that was very sweet. He talked about it at quite some length – it was obviously his little baby as he’d written, directed and presented it. It was nice to give him feedback!

In my second training evening, Phil let me sit in ‘the box’ as we call it and essentially do the shift myself, with him within shouting distance. It was good. A little stressful when about 3 or 4 different actors all had guests in who arrived at the same time five minutes after the curtain had come down, but good. When guests arrive I have to ask them who they are, sign them into the book and call down to the actor’s dressing room to obtain permission to let them through. It is bizarre, casually phoning up someone like Peter Capaldi or Ben Miller! They are all so lovely though.

I observed an outgoing another night that week after my shift on bar, in which Armando Iannucci dropped by. My first real shift then was on the Friday afternoon/evening (last Friday).

I like the box. The shift starts at 3, so much of the afternoon is spent quietly, with nothing much happening except a few contractors and members of management coming and going. I took some phone calls, spoke to some people who had come by looking for jobs or work experience and filled my bladder without having the ability to empty it again. At just after 5pm, some foreign women turned up asking if this was the theatre Peter Capaldi would be at. They were autograph hunters, and decided to wait outside in the freezing cold despite me warning them he may not turn up for another hour.

Luckily for them, the man in question turned up just twenty minutes later and he signed their pictures. They were hardy souls though, and stayed out there for a further hour and a half until every last cast member had appeared! Ben Miller arrived last, joked with me that they were very friendly and was amazed to hear how long they’d been standing there! (it had snowed the previous day, to give an idea of the temperature).

Other highlights of the shift included somehow quoting lyrics to the hokey cokey with Peter Capaldi; having a conversation with Ben Miller about jacket potatoes and giving him advice on where to buy his dinner; having Marcia Warren intent on remembering my name; having a nice chat with Stephen Wight about life, the universe and everything; finally being relieved to go to the loo and doing so with James Fleet singing his warm-up outside and having Clive Rowe inform me that I am the ‘prettiest stage door keeper’ (not sure what Phil would think of that!!) All ran smoothly, and I did rather enjoy the power of going home with the key to the theatre!

The following day Ben Miller posted a comment on twitter about an audience member and I replied adding who I was. I got a friendly tweet back: ‘Rachel! Apologies for not knowing this was you...’ etc. How odd to get a message from a ‘celebrity’ speaking in such a familiar way! As follow up,  on Valentine’s Day we found a novelty pair of dice (ahem) in the grand circle so I told Ben and James on twitter as I thought  they’d find it amusing... we proceeded to have a conversation about them.

And here I am again in the box now, on my second shift. Unexpected this time, as Phil is ill today. When Ben Miller walked in his first words were ‘Hi Rachel! Tell me more about what you found the other night...!”

And so, such is life. In this latest scene, it seems I am a person who Knows Famous People. And when I am talking to them, it feels un-extraordinary if that were a word. It is only when I stop to reflect that I think how bizarre the situation is, really!

Tonight is a little different as it is not only Phil who is ill: two of our understudies are on as Clive and Stephen are sick. Although unfortunate for them, it means my friend Will is getting a go at playing Harry. He did it last night too, and I went in to watch him on my break. Funny to watch someone I was drinking and dancing with last week on stage playing a major part to a packed audience!

Just had the interval here. Peter popped up in full ‘Marcus’ to inform me his friends will be visiting at the end of the evening, and I had a chat with one of the electricians. Such is life. I’m so glad I volunteered to do this: I enjoy the extra responsibility, seeing a different side of things at the theatre and value the experience.

So, in other news, we had snow – twice. The first time a couple of Saturdays ago and it came down thick and fast during our evening shift. So thick and so fast in fact, that it took my bus three times longer than usual and some of my friends’ trains were cancelled and it took them hours to get home! Stephen Wight told me he ended up walking all the way back to South London and got in at 2am! Others, however, were somehow on breakfast TV the next morning looking none the worse for wear... (HOW?!)

It melted quite quickly on the whole, but remained freezing cold all week. I finally lost one of my gloves. I say finally as me and my gloves have had a ridiculous relationship: I lose or drop at least one of them frequently; it’s like a bad running joke in a sitcom. I seem to constantly have people chasing after me waving one at me. So it’s a miracle they both lasted as long as they did really. Have since bought new ones – black so I can wear them on the front door of the theatre.

Emily came up to visit at the weekend which was great! We shopped til we dropped and ate lots of food including a rather lovely delivered pizza in bed in front of the original film of ‘The Ladykillers’. I showed her the theatre, Portobello Road and Camden; she showed me the wonders of Primark Oxford Street(!)

Am on stage door again tomorrow morning, which shall be interesting in the sense I will be starting work at 9am (gulp) and dull in the sense that nothing much will happen in 8 hours as the shift will end way before anyone interesting who wants to chat to me will enter the building. After that though, I have a pleasant weekend planned: seeing friends and possibly even a roller disco on Saturday night! Plus I have a night off gigging on Tuesday and Ollie finally gets back from Singapore!

Friday, 27 January 2012

25

This month I turned 25. Bit of a landmark, I suppose. Maths is no better in my old age - I was going around telling people I was turning half a century. This is not true quite yet.

Anyway, I thought the occasion worth reporting on as I had such a lovely birthday! Birthweek, in fact, as the celebrations seemed to last!

My birthday was on Tuesday 10th, and I had no plans for the day before 6.30pm. I therefore decided to treat myself to a nice day to myself. I had a lazy morning, then headed over to West London for a wander round Notting Hill. I bought myself a rather fetching cupcake themed bag, a jacket for my Edina costume (more to follow) and then had a lovely birthday lunch in Le Pain Quotidien:
Nom nom

From there I realised I could do my old favourite walk towards work along Bayswater Road/Hyde Park and then through Mayfair. I'd missed this, and it was lovely to do it again. The weather was fine and bright; not too cold for January. It reminded me that two years previously I'd also been in Hyde Park on my birthday, but there had been snow on the ground then and the Serpentine was frozen over!

Had a lovely shift at work. Everyone made me feel so special and loved. One of my friends bought me not one but TWO cupcakes(!), everyone signed a card for me and sang a round of Happy Birthday in the meeting at the end. Clive Rowe (actor) wished me a happy birthday and said he'd loved to have come salsa dancing with us on Thursday (as was the plan) but was busy. Had a conversation with him about salsa dancing with me standing in Grand Circle and him on the stage...funny.

After work, Phil the stage door keeper had booked a large table for us in a pub on Drury Lane, so we all headed up there. It felt so great that so many people were there! There were probably about 20 in total, including ushers, bar staff and even a cast member in the form of Will, an extra and understudy (who'd "been" Ben Miller when he was off helping his wife give birth). As is usual at such occasions, everyone plied me with drinks and I was really very merry by the time Will suggested we go onto another bar (called 'Alley Cats', beneath a music shop on Denmark Street). There we were onto the cocktails and left when they closed at 2am.... this had not been the plan and it made for an interesting shift the following matinee. Myles and I were both hungover, were put ushering together in the Dress Circle and we were both a) extraordinaily hot; b) annoyed with every person who asked a question; c) craviing bacon and d) barely able to stand up.

Anyway, we survived the day somehow and were recovered enough by the Thursday to make it out again to salsa! It's a club on Charing Cross Road that plays latino music... most people there were pretty good and obviously take classes but we did our best and wiggling in an almost convincing way and had fun! Clive spoke to me earlier in the evening to again express his regrets at not being able to join us (apparently he's a big salsa dancing nut!) and promised to invite the rest of the cast... that didn't happen, but the very image of Peter Capaldi out mamboing with us was enough to sustain me!

At the weekend I had the luxury of a Saturday off, so went home to Kent to be spoiled some more. Saw the family, ate extortionate amounts of food and generally had a lovely time.
On that Sunday was the Christening of baby Joseph and so I officially became a godmother! :) It was lovely returning to the church where Katy and Andrew had been married; and even the weather was equally as gloriously sunny as it had been that October day. The baby was as good as gold, and it was lovely to see Katy's family again. I am very proud to be Auntie Godmother Rachel!


And so, responsibility! And good example setting... I will achieve this, but two days later I happened to have the third and final birthday type party type thing in the shape of the much anticipated Ab Fab night in Shoreditch!

It was so fun to dress up (and it is so surprisingly easy to get in character once one dons a wig a a ridiculous outfit), see my wonderful crazy friends and take Shoreditch by storm! Those people in the kebab shop didn't know what'd hit 'em!

Highlights:
Our group being clearly the best dressed there
Commandeering squishy cushions and watching Absolutely Fabulous with a room full of people
Winning a bottle of Asti  Bolly in the super fan quiz
Pretending to fall out of the taxi at the end of the night, in true Eddy style
Looking like this:


And so there we are. Play is still running well, and I still love it. Can't wait for everyone I know to see it! Found some great love for it on the internet:
http://www.winkball.com/walls/hGdEgr9VpzlJ/the-ladykillers-at-the-gielgud-theatre

In other news, I have networked and modelled for the education department of Delfont Mackintosh (and when I say modelled I mean pretended to do various ushering tasks for their access website), dealt with some weird and, er.. 'wonderful' customers and said a sad goodbye to Cleo, someone who joined at the same time as I did. Already our numbers are dwindling quite a lot. But we have had some great newbies too, which makes it alright :) Have been here 4 months now and would happily stay at LEAST another 4 more.


Sunday, 8 January 2012

Happy New Year

2011 in the world of me

A memorable book I read:
Rebecca

A memorable film I saw:
A Single Man

A song I sung to myself with appropriate lyrics:

Oh, you're shaking like a leaf,
Have you lost your fire?
You're silent as you weep,
Used to be a trier.

Oh you're lost but not gone,
You can get back up and carry on...

So hold on, hold on to your horses,
I'm not giving up on you
Yeah hold on, hold on to your horses,
I couldn't if I tried to.

Oh you're desperate underneath,
Lost your desire.
You're reaching out to me,
You used to be a fighter.

Oh you're lost but not gone,
You can get back up and carry on...

The company you keep,
They call you a liar.
I hate that you're so weak,
You cry down the wire.

Yeah you're lost but not gone,
You can get back up and carry on...

So hold on, hold on to your horses,
I'm not giving up on you.
Yeah hold on, hold on to your horses,
I couldn't if I tried to.
You've got to hold on to your horses,
You've got to hold on to your head,
Yeah, hold on, hold on to your horses,
I'm not giving up on you.

A memorable and defining moment:


Plays I saw:
Avenue Q, Losing It, Broken Glass, As You Like It, Yes Prime Minister, Mamma Mia, The Ladykillers, The Lion in Winter.

People I met whom I admire:
Kazuo Ishiguro, Jennifer Saunders, Joanna Lumley, Graham Linehan, Phyllida Law

Holidays I took:
Peak District, Exmoor, Croatia

Random low points:
Witnessing a crime and having to go to court (though luckily not needing to say anything in the end!); various degrees of work-induced mental breakdowns; throwing up in Croatia; losing purse and boyfriend on New Year's Eve.

Random high points:
Trips to Peak District and Exmoor; spa day; fabulous weekend in London with Ellen in July; meeting Jennifer Saunders; being in love; moving to London and meeting my work friends and having great nights out with them eg press night.

Greatest achievement:
Being the spark what lit the match what forced Jennifer Jane Saunders into using twitter and gaining (to date) 43,000 followers :P

Proudest moment:
Being asked to be godmother to my friend Katy's baby boy, who was born in August.

Craziest moment:
Singing kareoke to 'The Phantom of the Opera' at the work Christmas party - and of course warming up in the auditorium beforehand!

A first:
Being on stage in the West End... yeah OK the curtain was down and the audience had all left but STILL!

A last:
Teaching in Chippenham.

A defining food:
CUPCAKES!

Auld Lang Syne

Crash landed in 2012 and I feel tis the season for reflection and nostalgia. So excuse me whilst I review the pains and glories of 2011.

On 31st December 2010 I did a lot of thinking. Life was not as I wanted it to be. I was miserable at work and feeling stuck in a place I didn't want to be (both physically and emotionally). I was dreading the start of term and saw the upcoming year as a chance to do or die. I made a resolution with myself that night. I would 'do'.

I hated work; I knew that. But I can be pretty fiercely determined/stubborn when I want to be, so knew I would stick it out until the end of the academic year. So, that New Year's Eve, I dreamt of a 2011 of two halves. I foresaw a tough 7 months ahead. But then, I saw the end of the year and I knew that I would have to be brave. Braver than I'd ever been before. I resolved (if things continued to go badly) to quit teaching. In my ideal vision of the year ahead, I saw July as a huge turning point. After July, I would never have to go back to that school again. After July I would find myself again. After July I would move into a different job, a different town, a different life.

The pessimistic part of me never really believed I would make it happen. It scorned the idea that I would be wild enough to leave the career I'd trained to do and put so much energy into doing. It laughed at the notion of little ol' me doing something just a little daring and consider moving to London and getting a job that wasn't necessarily 'sensible'. But I hushed that voice, both that night and increasingly so during those seven months. Because I knew that if I didn't really go for it, then I never would, and I might just never find what I wanted (whatever that was).

Those seven months were hard. The start of term last January went from bad to terrible within about a week. In the second week back I was crying in the staff toilets before class. I found allegiances though and made some friends from around the school who felt my pain and gave me shoulders, ears, tea and biscuits to help share it. At home, things got better when I found a flatmate in the form of my best friend, which granted one wish I'd been longing for for many years. Were it not for him, the misery of work would have been unbearable.

It was after my lowest point, which came in March and constituted something akin to a minor breakdown, that I dragged myself back into humanity and reminded myself of the promise I'd made in December. It was nearly Easter by that stage, and once those holidays had gone, the summer suddenly seemed much closer. I let go of caring so much at work: I'd learnt it was fruitless. I hated that I had slipped in standards as a teacher, but had to think of my own survival and how I would make it to July in one piece. I prioritised. I relaxed. I put my efforts into where they were demanded most and appreciated most. Things started to look brighter.

In April, I had 2 fantastic weekends. The first involved Sophie, an afternoon in the Thermae Spa, a trip to London and a Lady Garden gig. Then, Ollie and I spent a wonderful long weekend camping in the Peak District. We left in a blaze of national optimism; commentary of the Royal Wedding was the soundtrack to our drive up north. It was warm and sunny. In that weekend we walked through 20 miles of beautiful countryside, ate in pubs and from a little BBQ, listened to folk music in our hired car and photographed bluebells. I felt so happy and relaxed, and the feeling somehow carried through into the following term.

Before long, my year 11s (the most difficult class I had) left for study leave and my timetable instantly grew much more manageable. I reclaimed my Sundays which had previously always been spent planning for their double lesson on Monday morning.

At the beginning of June, we had a family holiday in Exmoor, which was wonderful and even more relaxing. The weather was gorgeous - hot enough to sit outside until late into the night playing cards. We stayed in a beautiful B&B next to a stud housing race horses. We drove along the blue Devon coast and across the hazy moorland. By the time we entered our last term at school, I actually felt happy again, and not just because the end was in sight.

Around me at school, people were still miserable. Everything that was comfortable and safe and postive was being steadily and determinedly deconstructed. To such a ridiculous extent that it became almost laughable. Farcical. For me, the summer was starting to bring the happiness I'd hoped for. Little and often. I had a good inspection from OFSTED. A lovely dinner party at my coworker's rambling farmhouse. A weekend in London. A trip to the theatre in Cardiff. A teacher's strike meaning the school was closed for a day. Finally catching up on work and beginning to clear out my classroom. An entertaining evening at the year 11 leavers' prom and a good final assembly with my tutor group.

The only thing holding me back from delirium was the knowledge that I'd soon have to leave my lovely flat, move away from my lovely flatmate again and impending unemployment (as I still hadn't found anything to go to). However, in the danger of this came excitement: I really was doing this! Really quitting teaching. Really going to turn my life round (hopefully).

I was washed out of school on that last day in a wave of emotions. It was surprising to feel sadness, but I did a little. It was because of the friends I was leaving behind. I got some of them a little something to say thank you. Rosie, Rachel, Buffy, Nigel, Trudi, Helen, Linette, Barbara, Matt, Vanessa and Dinah. Some of their names have already faded a little into my past, but I should never forget how they each helped keep me from going insane!

So, I had arrived! I thought to myself: 'This is it now. At the beginning of the year, you said July would be the turning point. And now we're here. What next?' 'Next', as it happened, had to be a move back to Kent with all my possessions. Ollie went in the opposite direction, to Derby. And I started job hunting.

I was to receive one more salary from school at the end of August, so did not panic too much at first. However, after a while, I started to. I was getting nowhere. By September, I was not only panicking about money, but also despairing at how my resolution could be going wrong. According to the plan, I should have been living in London by then. As it was, I was still in Kent, with seemingly no hope of getting anywhere. Many places were not even bothering to reject me: choosing instead to remain frostily silent.

Happily, by mid-September, the fates intervened and the rest is blogged history. And so it worked! It actually happened! I write on a Sunday night, without any feeling of impending doom for the upcoming Monday morning. I write from the flat in Islington I currently call home. I write knowing that the job I go to tomorrow will be fun, that I'll be doing it with wonderfully supportive and lovely people... and that there's always the chance of a celebrity spot (I'm currently at 45)!

It is my birthday on Tuesday. Last year, I spent part of the evening on my own, a little shaken from having to report a crime the previous night and struggled my way through a double lesson with year 11s in which I had to bribe them with cake. This year, I think I shall treat myself to a little shopping, perhaps lunch, then go to work in the West End and out for some drinks afterwards in Soho - then on Thursday we're going salsa dancing as our big night out to celebrate. One of the understudies says he might try to persuade some of the cast to come too! It's doubtful they will, but the very idea of it is so brilliantly hilarious!

Not everything is perfect. And this whole situation still somehow feels transitory. But I shall relish every moment that I can, while I can.