Who doesn't love a night bus?

Picture the scene. Mia- feeling tired and drunk slumped on the top deck of an overstuffed N159 heading back to Brixton at 3am on a Thursday. Man at back of this bus, also on his own it seems, sits quietly and calmly throughout duration of the journey. Then Man gets up slowly- clutches two poles and pulls himself into a perfect somersault, legs over arse, legs nearly kicking Mia's face, and having executed his bad-ass move resumes his seat again. Mia, puzzled, catches eye of guy (who looks French for some reason, not sure why, but just looked French) sitting in front who has his head twisted towards Somersault Man. French Looking Man: "Did that just happen?" Mia: "Yes, I believe it did just happen".

God bless the nightbus! And I really mean that. Thinking about it more as I power walked towards an awaiting warm bed I chuckled to myself. Even though we all despise having to wait for them, and my lordy it sucks arse in the winter, some of the funniest shit always happens on those long, sleepy, neverending rides home. Everyone has a nightbus adventure to remember forever. And you are usually outrageously wasted so its always the morning after as you peel your face from the pillow, or floor if you're not so lucky, and start recounting events from the night before that the journey home is usually where all the funny shit finds itself.

In most cases people (and when I say people I also mean me) have totally lost their inihibitions by the time they are reduced to the N- bus cattle status. Like the guy who tried to hit on you, purring and slurring in your ear "hey you wanna come check out my place, I dont want sex, I just have loads of beer" whilst he burps in his mouth and sways a bit too much for my liking. Clearly if it wasnt for those minor factors I would have certainly let this knight in shining armour whisk me home- I mean if he really thinks he is that wonderful then maybe there is some truth in it right?

People, mainly men, seem to think that the night bus is their last chance of pulling for the evening, they think something along the lines of "well Ive got this far, I suppose theres no harm in embarrassing myself one last time". Andy told me that his thinking is also that the best thing about pulling on a nightbus is that you know already the lady of your dreams lives in the same direction as you so the mission home later, or escape perhaps, will be easy. And do they actually believe that you are the lucky lucky lucky one who has won the golden ticket to visit their amazing chocolate factory in the arse end of nowhere? "Ive got the golden ticket, tralalalalllaaa". My friend Frias was telling me yesterday about some guy snuggling up to him and sleeping on his shoulder in the hope of it progressing further. And another time some eastern european guy hitting on him. The dialogue went in circles something along the lines of:
"You wanna come back to mine?"
"No"
"You wan me to to come back to yours?"
"No"
- and the only way, Frias decided, to make him go away was to just hug him. Not sure if that was the right technique but at least hes making some valuable friends on the way home.

And speaking of new BFFs, there is always that person who you end up chatting to for a solid life enriching hour, who becomes your new bessie mate cos you work out that your friend knows their friend who knows their friend who was born in the same hospital as you only three years before you so it must be fate that brought you together on this special night.

Or there is always that girl who has projectile vomited and the contents of her stomach have started dribbling down the walkway towards your feet, forcing everyone to skillfully leap over it as they stumble down the stairs. Or the guy, being my friend but I wont mention his name (it was Johnny shh), unashamedly peeing into a bottle cos he couldnt bare to wait anymore- and actually no one really batters an eyelid because they kind of wanted to do the same thing.

Then theres always those annoying groups of kids who are having way too much fun screeching when they can obviously see you are trying to catch up on some much needed shut eye on the oh so comfortable seats which are oddly often damp, hmm, whilst your head bangs rhythmically over and over again on the cold wet steamy window, thump thump thump, soggy hair soggy hair soggy hair, sore bruise sore bruise sore bruise.

And what is it about guys who are forever sleeping right past their stop and waking up freezing their bollocks off at the end of the line in shit holes like Sidcup or Walthamstow with no way to get home, or worse still ending back where they started from in Leicester Square 3 hours later because the bus has gone full circle without stirring the heavy slumber. I dont think girls do that, that ones definately a guy night bus thing.

At what age or time in your life do you no longer get the nightbus? Is there a cut off point when you say enough is enough?! Maybe its when you are rich enough to get a taxi. Maybe I'll be that weird old lady who gets the nightbus home on her own cos she'll never be rich enough. I think I'd still enjoy it secretly.

Lets get fatty boom batty together

If I baked you a cake, for me will you eat it?
And if I made rocky road, with me will you share it?
And if we get fat, on our fatty boom batty- we can sit.
If I tell you a story will you tell me one too?
If I share a bad joke, will you pretend that its new?
If we can laugh loud together we will be one of a few.
If I write you a sweet song will you sing it sweetly?
And if I sing along will you laugh at me?
And if we are feeling brave can we try the harmony?
If I pour you a bath will you invite me in too?
If I wash your hair will you pass the shampoo?
And if I want bubbles please say its okay- with you.
If I buy you a Kinderegg- will you get me one too?
You'll get a little shit toy all shiny and new,
And if I get cool stickers I shall share them with you.
If I make our bed fluffy will you sleep in the sack?
If I give you a kind kiss will you kiss me back?
If I squeeze your hand will you squeeze mine to black?
If I want to get fit, will you come for a run?
If we go for a run, just don't stare at my bum
If you check out my bum I'll have to tease you some!
If I talk of the future will you dream of one too?
If I wanted a dog named The Dude will that do it for you?
And if I want to walk him- will you walk with us two?
If I go exploring will you travel with me?
And we'll venture from mountain, to wood, to sea and city.
If I want to explore will you help me roam free?
If I work all day will you meet me for dinner?
If I pay for your meal will you buy me ice cream? Winner!
If I choose chocolate will you share your vanilla?
If I stroke your ears will you purr like a cat?
If you purr I will know that you like it like that.
And if you like it like that we will never look back.
And if you like it like that we will never look back.

Sumsies and her umbrella

So. Summer is speeding through the learning shit. The past week or so has been especially mental and astonishing. She is learning new words left right and centre- like "socks" and "shoes" are firm favourites this week. She likes to say "socks" whilst tapping her little feet, or "shoes" whilst watching you get ready to leave the house. So you just nod at her and say "yes, socks" or "yes, shoes" to which she'll grin her goofy grin and run off. Yesterday, Josie and I taught her "Mia". Not just how to say "Mia" but actually that Mia was my name and a way of calling me or getting my attention. So this morning, hidden under the duvet trying to catch up on sleep, of which I feel pretty deprived at the moment, Summer was outside the door saying "Mia, Mia, Mia" over and over again to see if I was awake. Ah it was so lovely. Like the loveliest alarm you could imagine. And its not only new words that she is absorbing- she is consistently performing little actions she has been sponging up from the world. Like running up and down the corridor full pelt with my umbrella held high abover her head, giggling her heart out. Who has she seen running with an umbrella recently?

So smile at me

And there is a space in my heart, for your smile to fill
So smile at me and I shall bow to your will

And my lips are right here, with no one to kiss
So please kiss me softly and fulfil my wish

And there is a place in my bed that was made for two
So come lay by my side, and I'll be there for you

And there are questions in mind that your thoughts can explore
So tell me your ideas, and I'll whisper you more

And there is one lonely hand that hangs by my side
So offer me your hand and act as my guide

And there are plenty of worlds that I wish to search for
So come sail with me from shore to shore

And I miss you and I miss you and I miss you
And I want you and I want you and I want you
And I love you and I love you and I love you
And I know that you need me too.

Coming full circle

So I went to see Avatar this weekend- Valentines Day spent with the sisters. What a wicked film. It really is incredible and imaginative and how the hell did they come up with some of that crazy Pandora shit. Amazing really. So I sat there in wonder for the whole thing. Not to sound cheesy, although I'm quite skilled at the old cheese factor (which someone kindly, or actually not so kindly, pointed out to me the other day) - but I liked the idea of everything being connected to everything else. If you take energy from something you will have to give it back. I thought that was a really good way to put it. Like the whole karma, what goes around comes around, stuff.

I'm forever missioning around, doing things for free, doing jobs that put money in my pocket even though I hate every minute of them. But it is true, and I learn it over and over again, that the more you put into something the more you get out of it. Like I wasn't particularly keen on taking this wardrobe job at Trafalgar Studios at first- partly because it was unpiad but mostly because it was time consuming. I have to be in early every day to do the washing, scrub arm pits, hand wash pants, hang things out to dry in time as the tumbler seems to make everything shrink to my size. Not ideal. Not particularly glamorous. But on the other hand, it is a great and prestigious place to be working, and will hopefully add to my various experience in this industry. Despite all these things, what I am actually discovering is that I am gaining heaps more than I expected. Like good friends, and good memories. The cast are really lovely and socially I am having a whopping great big whale of a time. Plenty of banter backstage and getting to know some new people make for a place that I'm starting to miss when Iam not here. So yes, the effort is going to be worth it for sure.

And that energy idea works in both negative and positive ways too. If you are nasty to someone they will probably be nasty back. Take my pound and I'll take yours. If you are kind and generous to someone they will, hopefully, be kind and generous back. I have just recently become 'sans boyf' again- after almost three years. And it is the first time in my life that things haven't turned sour. Not sure if its just a matter of 'growing up' or if it is because we have a good friendship at the foundations, but I think we both have realised that expelling negative energy on each other is fruitless and just hurts a bunch when it comes back to slap you in the face. And it stings like hell when not only does your boyfriend/girlfriend relationship end but your companionship crumbles and disappears to dust. So its been a pleasant break up- urgh if that is possible- but I just mean that it has taken less energy to just be sweet to each other. After all he is a wonderful, fun person and has been a great friend to me- I wouldn't want to lose him from my life at the sake of pride or fickle arguments over who is right and who is wrong. Its not worth all the exhaustion.

And what of the whole karma, coming full circle, shiz nit. Well I've drained my cup of tea and so now I will have to go fill it up again. Take and give. Give and take. Simple.

Sweet Mother Karma

Rudeboy: Hey how much is it to leave your coat?

Mia: Its free (smiles sweetly)
Rudeboy: Safe! Oi boys its free
Mia takes three heavy coats and goes to hang them up
Rudeboys: Ha check this out
Mia returns to find £1 from her tip tray missing- that was hers in the first place, and no boys
Mia: Wanker face, shit munchers
Mia goes into the cloakroom, and starts searching their pockets, pleased to find some loose change- takes a pound coin and places it triumphantly in tip tray.

One hour and fifteen minutes later...

Rudeboy: Alright
Mia: Can I have my pound back please? (smiles sweetly)
Rudeboy: Eh?
Mia: Can I have my pound back please?
Rudeboy: You're off your rocker mate
Mia: Well I have three Armarni coats in here for you, so I dont mind keeping them if you like?
Rudeboy: Fuck off.
Mia goes to get coats, dropping one on the floor, oops. Hands them back.
Mia: Bye...Wanker (smiles sweetly)

"The villany you teach me, I will execute, and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction."

Week One

Hungover

Urgh!

puff the pillows.

bury my head

my sore sore head

rumble rumble

stomach grumbles

must be fed

has shiggs been round?

what happened last night?

oh ha ha...

i told myself one, not five

million

crumbs in the bed?

oh my sore sore head

pill pops, kettle pops, sore head stops

for a bit, i feel shit- have a sip

oh tea I love you,

slurp

need a hug, need some love

keys.check.phone.check.wallet.check

what am i doing today again?

Lope De Vega

Love's not a stain to be washed away
nor a sin to be cleansed by water.
Heaven will bring you back to me,
for though our love's barely days old
I've held you in my heart for years,
through the shades and mysteries of the soul.
Philosophy tells us time and space
are folds on destiny's dark robe.
We are the linchpin of time and space,
upon which countless angels dance.
We are cast in the image of stars,
in the guiding stars of our love.
And in our days of desire
we have known and loved each other
for a hundred- a thousand!- years.

Madness In Valencia

So my new job (can I call it a job if I don't get any money? mm?) Lets say my new venture started officially yesterday. The designer I am working for, Kate, liked to call it D-Day so I guess it means it was an important day! Its funny because whenever the pressure is on, and a day is given an official title my defence mechanism kicks in to reduce my stress levels and something really weird happens...I just totally chill out. Ha. I don't think Kate was happy that I was so relaxed on D-day, but I kept enjoying myself nonetheless.

I'm working on a theatre production called Madness in Valencia. It was on last year at the White Bear Theatre and did really well- critics choice in Timeout which is always a great accolade for any fringe show. It did so well in fact that it now has a month long stint at Trafalgar Studios, a lovely central little place just off Trafalgar Square. Pretty cool to be working at a West End theatre again, there is something I adore about the rabbit runs backstage and the old grafitti from past shows everywhere. Yesterday I spotted 'Danny Dyer was here 2009' on the walls. Not that that is remarkable or particularly significant, but I do like the essence of a history in these old theatres. I always wonder at who has been sitting in these basement dressing rooms night after night waiting nervously backstage for their call to the stage. Or maybe not waiting nervously at all- after all by the time productions get to a place like this the cast are usually pretty experienced and spend most of their time goofing around backstage eating mountains of chocolate hobnobs and drinking tea by the bucket load. Yesterday, for example, the cast all donned out in their renaissance cod pieced costumes were sprawled all over each other watching 'The Hangover' on DVD roaring with laughter and often snorting like drunken hogs. Actors! So no it wasn't meditating, running cues or getting in the zone. Just watching 'The Hangover', standard.

So anyway, waffle waffle, Sian and I had spent most of Sunday baking. We made cupcakes aplenty: vanilla with chocolate butter frosting and chocolate sprinkle things; chocolate with chocolate butter frosting (see what we did there) and mini smarties; and lemon with lemon icing....mmm AGGY (NB: for all those who have not met my gorgeous neice Summer, AGGY is just another word for YUMMY- put it in your vocab banks today it is quite splendid). So yes, AGGY cupcakes. So these I took in abundance to the theatre which I think helped with morale on D-Day. And I'm glad to say they can't have been too far off aggyness at all as there were only three left by the end of the day which made me very happy. There is nothing worse than baking and then it all going to waste or worse still not being touched at all. So I think Sian and I did ourselves proud in the cupcake stakes.

In fact, sorry to go off point again, but isn't it one of the most annoying things when you cook up a huge kingly feast for someone with such joy and energy and panache (whatever that means) and like a truely talented composer everything comes together perfectly and its all bubbling away all at the same time- the sausages popping in the oven , the peas boiling away like little green dancers in the pan, the mash all creamy and smooth, the gravy steaming, the red onions caramalising away doing their yummy bubbly thing, and you've heated up the plates cos thats super nice to keep your food warm on your lap and abracadabra everything is cooked perfectly to time and you dish it up with a bit of finesse and tweak the presentation slightly so it not only smells gorgeous but looks like a super star dinner too balanced like a perfect picture, and you shout up the stairs "DINNER'S READY!" expecting an excited stampede trampling rapidly down the stairs....and all you get is "ok....ill be down in a minute" which actually means "I'll be down in five minutes after you've reminded me again and the plates are cold and the perfectly positioned sausages have either toppled off the mountain of creamy mash or just sunk sadly straight into the heap like a great big sigh of disappointment. I hate that. If I ever cook you dinner, make sure you're ready when it is ready!

Okay, so back to D-Day. So I spent most of the day finishing off costumes, tweaking them here and there, re-sewing buttons, loosening crotches where they needed loosening for lunging purposes (something actors like to indulge in every so often I've found), adding ribbons and breaking them down with tea and paint and sandpaper to rough them up a bit- make them look real I suppose. And when I wasn't doing that I was running around the city to and fro picking up things we had forgotten about- like long johns and white pants and shoes and a blue ribbon and an extra mask for the carnival scene. I also had the pleasure of heading over to the oh so incredibly amazing National Theatre props and costumes stores to have a rummage around for a tudor style bucket and a couple of soft leather pointy shoes. Now these warehouses are just a dream. Bursting at their seams full of crazy stuff. Everything you could ever imagine you would need in a play and it is there. A rainbow of feathers taller than a Mia, military uniforms from every era, pigs heads, truncheons, ornate bird cages- man oh man its a real treasure trove of stuff. So that was a special treat for me yesterday- hardly the kind of harsh D-Day I was imagining.

Tonight is opening night, hopefully everything is in place, and the actors turn up, and the costumes hold together, and the set stays upright, and the DVD player is kept at low volume, and the final three cupcakes get eaten. Fingers crossed for a fun month. And if you fancy an AGGY treat of a show- come see it!

Trafalgar Studios 2: 9th February - 6th March 2010

http://www.madnessinvalencia.com/

http://www.ambassadortickets.com/

Black and White Rainbow Ltd

Missing In Action

'Absence is to love
What wind is to fire;
It extinguishes the small,
It inflames the great.'

Christopher Marlowe

Little Siany

Well not so little anymore- in fact its a bone of contention between all three of us that the little sister Sian has grown up to be much taller, leggier and significantly more beautiful than Josie and myself. Although I am sure Josie would disagree after in her typical modest style proclaiming last week (on the same night as the monobrow incident may I add) that "I never seen someone with a prettier face than me". HA.



But then again Sian has always been a cutie, even as a tiny girl she was gorgeous. Big big white springy ringlets, porcelin white skin and huge deep blue eyes that just stared right through the camera every time her picture was taken. Such a flirt. The funniest thing about her though was that despite her outer gorgeous scrumminess, underneath it all she was always a goon and a real sweet geek! Still the case I think although she will hate me for saying so. On the bouncy castle at about two years old I remember so vividly how she was squealing with excitement, bouncing up and down up and down up and down. All the while her blonde fro growing larger and larger with the build up of static- like a huge halo of elecricity sticking up absurdly in all directions. Of course the little ball of loveliness was totally oblivious to all the electric shocks she was striking the other kiddies with- zap zap zap. Kids were literally running away from her with tears in their eyes, off the bouncy catsle and hurling themselves into the arms of concerned mums. Sian meanwhile just keeps bouncing around with her huge goofy grin. Hilarious.





And then there was the time she took on the role as 'local feral child' when we went camping in Cornwall with the extended family. I think it was the year of the eclipse, so it was pretty touristy and busy at the time down there. Living in a tent for ten days surrounded by rolling green hills and dazzling sunshine really affected Sian. You could say she was in her element- running around bare footed for days on end, hanging out with the local animals- yes the camp's sheep and goats became her good friends by the end of the trip. My mum struggled to get her to change her muddy clothes and brush her wild hair let alone wash, little feral child. The funniest part of the whole trip was Sian's convertion to Christianity. She must have only been 5 or 6 years old yet every morning she got up at the crack of dawn, I was about to write get dressed on her own but she probably just went barefooted in her pjs (feral child), and head on over to the camp's chapel that was set up in a rustic barn every day. Of course the rest of us didnt give a poop about service in the mornings at this place- I think it was my Grandad who requested we go to there because of the church services it provided. But anyway, little feral Sian would get up and attend church every morning and return to the tent singing sweetly to herself and waking us up with her joyus hymns and praises to Jesus!



Sian is definately Josie's little follower. Josie could get her to do anything and Sian would just smile sweetly without questionning her big sisters antics. We found some home videos recently that Josie had made with her friend Harriet. The hours of footage are basically Jo dressing up in different outfits, singing songs full pelt towards the camera- always in secret and in the middle of the night during her many sleepovers. She was clearly constructing a musical where she was the beautiful precious princess adored by her kingdom and Sian was often either a dog or a prince. With her sleepy eyes Sian would just be pushed around, obeying instructions and smiling awkwardly at the camera whilst Josie prances around and poses in the background performing some twisted version of Sleeping Beauty and Snow White. I think Harriet was just laughing hysterically throughout the whole thing- shy and embarrassed in front of the camera and confused by her nutcase of a friend, and probably just really really tired and delirious after being kept awake all night.



And Sian would often take the wrap for Josies mischief- I'm sure she still does sometimes. When a large tear was found in their deflated airbed one morning, out of nowhere Sian exclaimed "I didn't touch the scissors". She hadnt touched the scissors, in fact no one had. I just snorted out loud thinking about that moment again. Im not sure why she said it- but I think she was just sensitive little bug not wanting to get blamed for something she clearly hadn't done. Of course Jo didn't own up to the tear until years later, a tear which had nothing to do with scissors but more to do with an accidental chair leg popping the damn thing. Although that didnt stop her just letting the rest of us believe that maybe her little sister had been the offending party in the mystery of the burst bed. Poor little innocent Sian.



But as I said, shes not so little anymore. In fact shes pretty much way cooler than either Josie and I ever were at 16. Shes a clever one too. The fact that she already knows she wants to be a Vet and where she wants to go to study is pretty scary. Pretty impressive though too. Its GCSE year this year so the revision crunch is on- but Im certain she will do amazingly...with my help of course, wink. What a catch.