Hi Diddly Dee, an Actor's Life for Me
"Those who agree with us may not be right, but we admire their astuteness."
Cullen Hightower
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Je reviens!
Hello, lovely people. As you may have guessed from the title, I'm back from Turkey, several shades browner and having lost half a stone in weight. God only knows how, as I have done precisely nothing for two weeks, bar lying on a sun lounger and eating a LOT of food. Still, ours is not to reason why; ours is but to gloat and hope that we don't put it all back on again too quickly. Thank you to Ciggie and Jimmy for holding the fort while I was away. Jimmy,the restraining order's in the post... I will write more in due course (Sketches has tagged me, for a start), but for the moment I am merely wading through emails, post and the mountains of washing that seem to have accumulated in our absence. Joy! Hope you're all well - I shall be popping round to check up on you all soon, if I haven't already. In the meantime, here's a couple of photos, just to make you all jealous.
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3.10.06 11:19 |
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Obligatory post-holiday meme
Why do you blog? I'm addicted *sob* How long have you been blogging? Oh lordy - quite a while now. I'm coming up to my 2nd blirthday, in fact. Self portrait No, I shall leave this one to the experts, like Norah. My drawing is, quite frankly, rubbish enough without being shown up by my shoddy Paint skills... Why do readers read your blog? Good question. I would like to think that it's because of the fantastic writing, but I think it's probably got more to do with the fact that I'm generally quite fluffy and flirt a lot. What was the last search phrase someone used to find your site? Hehehe - funnily enough, I'm still getting hits from the 20six HotorNot scoreboard. I thought that had died last year, but evidently not... Which of the entries gets unjustly too little attention? Usually the stuff where I'm disappearing up my own arse and being silly, so that's actually completely just. I did once resort to reposting in a fit of pique, but I got caught and unmercifully laughed at (again, totally justified, as I have, in the past, sneered at such underhand tactics) and haven't done it since. I reserve the right to change this stance, however, should it be needed. What? It's a woman's prerogative to change her mind, don'tcha know... Your current favourite blog? CUNextThursday Which blog did you read most recently? Probably Pete's Which feeds do you subscribe to? Er - I have no intention of listing them, as I have 78 feeds in Bloglines. What can I say? - I'm a blog junkie. What 4 blogs are you tagging with this meme and why? I don't DO tagging, dahling. If anyone wants to have a go then please feel free, however. |
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3.10.06 15:16 |
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Nobody Here But Us Chickens
One of the best things about having a birthday is that you get given PRESENTS. Oh yes. Last year, my dad was supposed to be getting me a sculpture by a local Somerset artist called George Hider, but he didn't get it organised in time. Anyway, as time went on and the sculpture still hadn't appeared, I jokingly said to Dad that if he hadn't got me anything by the time I turned 30 then he owed me big time. Imagine my delight, therefore, when I walked out of the house on the morning of my birthday party this year to find not one, not two, but three chickens AND a cockerel standing in the garden.
They're all individual, and one of the hens has the most fantastically beady expression - I call her Doris. The cockerel, however, is a tour de force.
I call him Charlemagne, and with his magnificent tail feathers, comb and spurs, he is a proud creature, looking after his birds and guarding against foxes - a nice little role-reversal there. The dogs were very disturbed by him, which was hilarious to watch, as they barked and growled and raced round in circles, while he rose above it all and ignored them. Long live chickens, say I! |
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4.10.06 14:55 |
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I subscribe to a weekly newsletter called PCR, which lists upcoming auditions. It's a godsend for small fry such as myself, even if most of the jobs listed are for low/no pay - at least it's work, eh! Anyway, they now have an email service, which lets subscribers know about short notice and last minute auditions. This morning I received an email proudly listing the following breakdowns:
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6.10.06 13:42 |
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Gorgeous
My flat is currently awash with flowers. The purple freesias that Valentia left for me are still going strong, nearly a week later, and I have just added a beautiful table arrangement, which was given to me by the bride's mother at the wedding dinner that I went to last night. Stargazer lilies, delicate, tightly petalled pink and white roses, snowberries - and so much else. The most wonderful thing, however, is the scent, which is filling the entire flat. Delicious.
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8.10.06 14:22 |
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Stationery
Why can't printer cartridges be universal? Too...many...bloody...codes... *cries*
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10.10.06 10:17 |
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Groo
Beer and a late night do not make for a very productive Katja the following morning. Luckily I'm not exactly rushed off my feet, so I shall mostly be drinking a lot of water and feeling a bit queasy - all sympathy gratefully received, especially if accompanied by courier deliveries of greasy fry-ups. The reason for drinking too much beer was that I went to help Ciggie record his radio series pilot, Dulston City Nights (check it out - it's v funny). The thing is that I had to go to saaaaf London to do so and the karma fairy was beating me round the head with an enormous great club for some reason (don't know what I'd done, but it must have been bad). It started when I got to London Bridge and tried to get a ticket, thinking that I could just get myself a travelcard extension. However, oh no, that would be FAR too easy! After much buggering about and getting more and more annoyed with the various useless machines, I eventually decided just to get myself a return. This should have cost me five pounds, and I put a tenner in to pay for it. The machine gave me the ticket - and £2 change. I'd have kicked it, but I'm a lady - so I merely turned the air around me a brilliant shade of blue and then sweetly asked a policeman where to go to report a fault. I must be getting old, because he looked about 12. Shoot me now... The child policeman directed me to the customer information office, but - guess what? - it was, of course, closed. Growling obscenities under my breath (apologies to everyone that I passed in the station) I stomped my way to the correct platform to catch my train. The train was, of course, absolutely rammed and I had my nose in some smoker's armpit for the 20 minutes or so that we were travelling. Eau de Stale Cigarette Smoke and BO - nice. My feet were also killing me by this point and I had The Fear big time - I'm a North London girl and going south of the river brings me out in a rash. No word of a lie. Finally, when I reached my destination, I opened my purse to take out my ticket - and it exploded everywhere, throwing old train tickets, timetables, railcards and lord only knows what else all over the concourse, directly in front of the gates through which a multitude of people were passing. I think at this point the karma fairy decided that she'd done enough beating, as this was the last drama of the journey. Admittedly, the fact that I was wearing a short skirt may have helped *ahem* as there was a flurry of kind gentlemen rushing to help me pick everything up. Being a girl ROCKS.
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11.10.06 10:47 |
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