The Taxi Service

Following on from my outing to Landscape with Weapon at the National, about 24 hours later I found myself kangarooing over Waterloo Bridge in the Dustbin on Wheels off to Euston Station to collect a gaggle of teenagers.

At about 4pm the ladies had decided to go to Hatch End. To visit a boy, of course. Whose parents were away, of course. Armed with their travel cards, off they went from the badlands of South London. Parental warnings of do you realise where Hatch End is? It's Sunday, the transport stops early fell on very deaf ears.

At 10pm, the calls began. "Are you thinking of making your way home now?"
An hour later : "We missed the train. The next one is at 11.30 and we'll come home on the Night Bus"
"No you bloody won't - we'll collect you from Euston."
"Don't fuss, we'll be ok".
An hour after that :"Mum, this train is taking forever, can you pick us up from Euston? We'll wait by the Taxis".

By this time, it was well after midnight, I was in my best tea stained pair of jamas, but had to get dressed as Daddy had consumed a bottle of wine "Would I be OK to drive? "
"No, you bloody wouldn't!"

So off I go, Bat out of Hell CD blasting out into the night. It was quite exciting, really, having the car to myself, driving through Central London. It was almost like being young again.

As they finally piled into the car, I realised I would not be going straight home - I would be doing the tour of South London to drop this lot off.

There was silence as Meatloaf did his stuff. Under normal circumstances, the CD would have been chucked out of the window by now. I gently lectured them on would it not have been better to set off late morning and arrived home at a decent hour without getting the parents upset. The journey home was interrupted by phone calls from hysterical parents wondering where their lovelies were.

"What's this we're listening to?"
"Meatloaf - Bat out of hell. I've got the Grease CD if you fancy a change."
Silence.

At each drop off, it was easy to find the house - it was the only one in the street with its lights still on. As each girl approached the doorstep, the front door swung open and a hand reached out to grab her.....

Finally at home, I found that Daddy had gone off to bed. Swine. Whatever happened to solidarity amongst parents?

Finally in bed at 2am, I was woken up the following morning by a call from a grateful mother.
We've decided to exchange mobile numbers. We wouldn't want our daughters to know what we were up to.....

My yoga class

Help - I've just realised that I'm addicted to yoga. I've been going regularly for about a year now, and have even just started going twice a week. For various reasons - not my heady social life, I hasten to add - I haven't been for over a week and Oh was I looking forward to the class tonight.
I'm no good at it at all - how the bloke teaching me manages to keep a straight face I'll never know. Yet I enjoy it and my downward dog is coming along in leaps and bounds. I've had an idea about writing about a yoga class and all its goings on - do you think there's any mileage in it at all?

Should I have said hello, part 2

The stalwarts of the Queens of Insania and other GW fans had their mini reunion last Saturday evening at the National where two of the GW cast were doing their stuff in Landscape With Weapon.

It was a special treat for me for the following reasons:

- great opportunity to catch with with everyone from the Convention and meet up with new people who post on the JRT website. Not a bunny boiler amongst them, honest!

- a night out

- my first visit to the Cottesloe in about 30 years of going to the National

- a chance to see a play I would probably never have considered going to see in the normal way

Alas, due to timing I missed the pre play get together at the Pizza Express, so just had time for brief chats before during and after!

Oh, after. Yes, well. JRT and PH appeared at the stage door as arranged by one of the more organised members of the party. I stood a few yards away, with a few other people. We had decided, for one reason or another that we just didn't want to meet them. No-one could quite explain why, it just wasn't our thing.

The stars were charming, delightful, witty, etc etc., and everyone who met them, many not for the first time, were just thrilled, and I'm pleased for them, I really am. After all, we are the people who watch the programmes, go to the shows, buy the DVDs, post on the fan sites, etc,.

Yet, I had decided that before going that I wouldn't approach them, and amazingly enough I stuck to my decision. And I don't seem to be regretting it either.

So why the post? I don't know. Should I have said hello? Am I being standoffish? Silly? Sensible? A prat? I really don't know.
Anyway, as the Italians say - passato il santo, finito la festa - once the moment has passed, it's passed.
Answers on a postcard please!

I'm so tired of being ill all the time

I am sitting here with a nasty rash and a general feeling of being ill. I can't remember what it's like to be well, full of energy, bright eyed and bushy tailed. I'm what is known as a TATT - tired all the time. I've had endless blood tests, spent a fortune on various supplements , therapists, self help books, exercise, yoga, etc. I am feeling better than I was, and certainly look better than I did, but today, this evening, I just feel like crap.
Feeling crap narrows your horizons. For years now I've just managed to get through the day, dealing with the house and children, etc. No energy or time for extras, especially taking a day off and lying in bed all day, which is what sensible people would do. Not feeling well? spend the day in bed! So why don't I? is it because I don't have a proper grown up job so I'm not entitled to take any time off? Am I being a martyr to the cause? Is it punishment for something or other? Or do I just need a few early nights and a more positive attitude - believe me I'm trying, very trying. I have to keep reminding myself that I have made lots of progress, and that I will get better. Everyone tells me I'm looking better, I can see I look better. But today I just don't feel better.

Here we go again - another article!

I'm so excited - I've been published again in the latest edition of All The Rage

http://www.alltherage.org.uk/

I think I'm on page 8. I've written something about bras - I've been wearing one since 1971 so I think I know a thing or two about them. Oh, the rest is worth a read too.

China Syndrome

Wasn't the China Syndrome a film about a nuclear thingy with Jane Fonda and Michael Douglas many moons ago? No, I'm not talking about that, I'm talking about something else - our 20th wedding anniversary. Now I know the hip young things will have already moved on to some other blog like Shagtastic or Hoola Loola or whatever fancy names these other hip and happening blogs have, but surely there's some room somewhere for me?

Yes - I've been married for 20 years. As I've said to many people, you get less for murder.

So what did we get up to? Well, if you're still reading, we went to the Dulwich Picture Gallery, had lunch, wandered through Dulwich Village and the park, and then went on to do the school run. There. That was it. Oh, in the evening, after Brownies, we had some champagne. Bollinger, which he got from a client last Christmas.


It was actually rather nice. I may even take him to the Summer Exhibition preview - you can wander around with a drink having a good laugh at the exhibits. I went last summer when England were playing their first World Cup game. It was quite an eventful visit. As I approached Piccadilly Circus, I thought it rather strange that no traffic was hurtling towards me. I presumed it was the fact that everyone was at home watching football. But no. As I got to the other side of the road I narrowly missed being run over by some bloke on a bike. With no clothes on. He was followed by lots of other naked men on bikes. It was the nudie cycle protest!
After the first contingent of naked men went past my attention turned to the people on the pavement. Well, you see one dangler you've seen then all..... Everyone had their cameras, phones, camcorders, you name it out recording the event. People were absolutely astonished to see what was going on. One young man nearly fainted at the sight of a very mature woman with no clothes on. Her boobs were neatly perched on the handlebars of her bike. Young man of course could never imagine such a thing could happen and had to hang on to a lamp post for support, much to the amusement of his friends.
The protesters were accompanied by police people on bikes. Never will I forget the young WPC on her bike, fully clothed, bringing up the rear. She looked so mortified, poor soul. Suffice to say the Exhibition was no follow up for this unexpected slice of London life, although I enjoyed watching everyone have a good laugh at the Hare's egg and the light that went on and off

But I digress. What is it like to be married for 20 years? Should I stop being married? What would that be like? How would I ever find someone else? Because that's the secret of a happy marriage - lack of confidence, inertia, and being very short sighted.

Still, doesn't seem to stop other people taking off. Or even doing it again? Triumph of hope over experience, isn't that what they call it?

I could never get married again. It would be like learning how to drive again - just when you know where you're going, some bloody man grabs the wheel.

So it starts......my first published article

Well, I was very excited to see that my first piece of writing has been published.

It's all fab, but check out page 11!

http://www.alltherage.org.uk/alltherage-2007-04.pdf