Still trailing through press photos from the other premieres, as yet to no avail.
But you do have something to look forward to - all the events from the Black Swan premiere coming really soon.
Promise.
Wednesday 22 September 2010
There I Am!
Wednesday 15 September 2010
Girl about The Town
Day 11 of my stay in Canada, and day 2 of my Toronto International Film Festival activites. I didn't stalk celebs on Yorkville. I didn't chillax in the Four Seasons. I certainly didn't seek out Emily Blunt's hotel room and smuggle myself into there in a laundry cart. Not for lack of trying, anyway.
I went to another premiere.
This time it was opening night for The Town, a crime thriller starring and directed by Ben Affleck. It was a much bigger affair that The King's Speech, and this time things didn't kick off until around 9pm for the 9:30 screening. I got there for 7:30pm, and I have to say I was taken aback by the size of the crowd at that time. I squashed my way into the back row of people, hoping that some of them would eventually get fed up, perhaps not really knowing what they were waiting for, and leave. A few did... I probably gained another row, but by 9pm I was still about three rows back, only now closed in by another three rows behind.
Eventually the cars began to arrive, and despite the first car "only" containing producers and other execs, I got a taste of what was to come. By that I mean, I began what would be a long hour of getting to know everyone around me far too intimately. At one point a woman behind me, who was dressed and made-up so beautifully that she could have been one of the actresses, went against the grain of her attractive aesthetics and tried to - rather unattractively - scramble her way to the front. Good luck with that, love. In doing so, she actually, with her hand, grabbed the side of my head and tried to move it out of the way. Now, I haven't really lived in Blackpool for around four years, so something that I like to call the "blackpool rage" has pretty much all but left my nature. Except for in moments like that. I turned around, gave her my very best evil stare (with added twist of "you digust me") and said:
"Are you SERIOUSLY... touching my head?"
"Oh, I'm sorry I just.... lost my balance."
Course you did, you silly tart. I chose to ignore that, and said goodbye to the Blackpool Rage, focusing my attentions back onto the unfolding events on the other side of the barrier.
We didn't have to wait too much longer before the stars began to arrive. First came established actor Chris Cooper, then Ben Affleck himself. The crowd went into such a frenzy in that moment that I struggled to see anything, and the only photos I managed to get either showed a blurry version of the back of his (very nice) suit, or obstructed images of his face. Next came his wife of five years, Jennifer Garner, who again I barely saw. However, the glimpses I did get confirmed that she's actually even more stunning in the flesh than on screen. After that, Mad Men's John Hamm, star of The Hurt Locker, Jeremy Renner, Canadian actress Rachelle Lefevre and The Town's lead actress Rebecca Hall.
And then, the moment I`m not remotely ashamed to admit that I`d been waiting for.... Blake Lively. Some of you may know her from The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, most of you as Serena van der Woodsen from Gossip Girl. Some of you probably won`t know of her at all. But know this: she is devastatingly beautiful. She wore a stunning red Chanel sequined dress and the most amazing earrings, and probably needless to say, I couldn`t stop looking at the girl.
I got a decent enough photo of her, and of everyone else except for Ben and Jennifer. I discovered that my camera is pretty, well, shit, when in situations like this, where there is a lot of movement and flashing light. Note to self: Must save up for good quality camera next year.
All in all it was a great night. The atmosphere at these premieres is more than electric, and the spectacle of seeing these incredibly famous people, all dolled up to promote their work... Well, for me it doesn`t get much better than that. There was a pang of something else, though, while I stood there watching everyone waiting for the stars, and watching them all arrive and the frenzy that surrounded the occasion. That`s where I want to be. That`s what I want. Not to be one of the stars, necessarily, but to be a part of that, a part of the madness. Whether it be to document the event itself or - and this is the real desire - to be there because of something I did, something I worked on...
It definitely wouldn`t ever get any better than that.
I went to another premiere.
This time it was opening night for The Town, a crime thriller starring and directed by Ben Affleck. It was a much bigger affair that The King's Speech, and this time things didn't kick off until around 9pm for the 9:30 screening. I got there for 7:30pm, and I have to say I was taken aback by the size of the crowd at that time. I squashed my way into the back row of people, hoping that some of them would eventually get fed up, perhaps not really knowing what they were waiting for, and leave. A few did... I probably gained another row, but by 9pm I was still about three rows back, only now closed in by another three rows behind.
Eventually the cars began to arrive, and despite the first car "only" containing producers and other execs, I got a taste of what was to come. By that I mean, I began what would be a long hour of getting to know everyone around me far too intimately. At one point a woman behind me, who was dressed and made-up so beautifully that she could have been one of the actresses, went against the grain of her attractive aesthetics and tried to - rather unattractively - scramble her way to the front. Good luck with that, love. In doing so, she actually, with her hand, grabbed the side of my head and tried to move it out of the way. Now, I haven't really lived in Blackpool for around four years, so something that I like to call the "blackpool rage" has pretty much all but left my nature. Except for in moments like that. I turned around, gave her my very best evil stare (with added twist of "you digust me") and said:
"Are you SERIOUSLY... touching my head?"
"Oh, I'm sorry I just.... lost my balance."
Course you did, you silly tart. I chose to ignore that, and said goodbye to the Blackpool Rage, focusing my attentions back onto the unfolding events on the other side of the barrier.
We didn't have to wait too much longer before the stars began to arrive. First came established actor Chris Cooper, then Ben Affleck himself. The crowd went into such a frenzy in that moment that I struggled to see anything, and the only photos I managed to get either showed a blurry version of the back of his (very nice) suit, or obstructed images of his face. Next came his wife of five years, Jennifer Garner, who again I barely saw. However, the glimpses I did get confirmed that she's actually even more stunning in the flesh than on screen. After that, Mad Men's John Hamm, star of The Hurt Locker, Jeremy Renner, Canadian actress Rachelle Lefevre and The Town's lead actress Rebecca Hall.
And then, the moment I`m not remotely ashamed to admit that I`d been waiting for.... Blake Lively. Some of you may know her from The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, most of you as Serena van der Woodsen from Gossip Girl. Some of you probably won`t know of her at all. But know this: she is devastatingly beautiful. She wore a stunning red Chanel sequined dress and the most amazing earrings, and probably needless to say, I couldn`t stop looking at the girl.
I got a decent enough photo of her, and of everyone else except for Ben and Jennifer. I discovered that my camera is pretty, well, shit, when in situations like this, where there is a lot of movement and flashing light. Note to self: Must save up for good quality camera next year.
All in all it was a great night. The atmosphere at these premieres is more than electric, and the spectacle of seeing these incredibly famous people, all dolled up to promote their work... Well, for me it doesn`t get much better than that. There was a pang of something else, though, while I stood there watching everyone waiting for the stars, and watching them all arrive and the frenzy that surrounded the occasion. That`s where I want to be. That`s what I want. Not to be one of the stars, necessarily, but to be a part of that, a part of the madness. Whether it be to document the event itself or - and this is the real desire - to be there because of something I did, something I worked on...
It definitely wouldn`t ever get any better than that.
Sunday 12 September 2010
Star Stalking. I mean Star SPOTTING... Ok I mean Star Stalking....
Last summer, my biggest disappointment on leaving Toronto wasn't leaving my brother and family behind - Worst Sister Award, over here - or facing the dismal British autumn, or just leaving a very cool city for my pretty unremarkable hometown. It was the thought of missing out on the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) only days before it began.
Luckily this year I've been here for at least the first half of the Festival, and while it's proving almost impossible to get tickets for anything, I'm doing my best to check out as much of it as possible. Anyone who knows me will know that the translation for that, for the most part, is a nice bit of celebrity spotting. Some would say stalking.... I would staunchly deny it. Before giving in and admitting to it.
So my first experience of TIFF was, of course, a couple of hours spent on Yorkville in the north of the city. Yorkville is the place to be for celebs, and the place to see for all avid celebrity spotters. It's home to the Four Seasons and Hazelton hotels, as well as designer stores and exclusive clubs and bars. It's also right around the corner from all the other top-notch hotels and hangouts. Myself and another celebrity-obsessed friend arrived there at around 4:30pm on Friday, which in hindsight wasn't all that wise - the first big opening night of the Festival, at the time of evening when pretty much everyone would either be getting ready to go out, or already on their way.
My friend is somewhat of a seasoned pro at star spotting, so she suggested we take a look inside the Four Seasons. "I hung out in the lobby there for a few hours yesterday, but I didn't see anyone..." she said. For her, the exceptional part of that sentence was the lack of sightings, not the fact that she just racked up to the Four Seasons and plonked herself down on one of their plush lobby sofas for the afternoon. So, following suit, I wandered into that very same lobby whilst practising my very best "I'm supposed to be here" version of nonchalance. Once again, it worked, and once again... no celebs. Just a lot of important-looking people stood around waiting for more important-looking people.
The waiting did pay off. A little later on we watched Bill Murray (who I hope wasn't going anywhere fancy, since he was wearing a simple body warmer and baseball cap) get into his waiting car outside the Hazelton and be driven off slowly, pausing with his window open to allow fans to take photographs. It's nice to see the real old-school actors having time for their fans. Something which was brilliantly juxtaposed ten minutes later, when Megan Fox was whisked away in a big, white Audi with blacked out windows and, from what I could make out from their silhouettes, flanked on either side by bodyguards. Wouldn't wanna risk a security threat Megan, would ya. Or worse, a bad photo. Maybe one of those with a half eyelid flutter. Damn, I wish that window had been open...
After that we gave up on Yorkville and headed down to Roy Thomson Hall for the premiere of The King's Speech, a British film which stars Colin Firth as King George VI, and tells the story of his struggle with a bad stutter. We didn't have to wait long for everyone to arrive, the only big stars being Firth and distinguished actor Geoffrey Rush. It was a fairly small premiere, so we had a good view and got to shake hands with Colin. We succeeded in getting the only real reaction from him that night, when my friend shouted "Hey Colin, see you for a beer later, yeah?", and me adding "We'll find a nice Irish pub!".
Aside from Colin's lovely, friendly handshake, the real event of the night was meeting a fairly strange young man who was more of a star-spotting "pro" than either of us could ever wish to be (and would ever wish to be...). His conversation starter was to offer, since he was so tall, to email us his photos if we didn't manage to get any good shots. He then showed us the glossy A4-sized photos he had ready for the two actors to sign, and went on to tell us - in detail - about all the celebrities he'd met and seen so far this Festival. The best moment, though, came when he proudly said:
"And last year I was the only person to get Robert Deniro's autograph... No, wait. It wasn't Robert Deniro. Who was it...... Oh yeah, Mariah Carey. Mariah Carey's autograph."
Everyone around me burst into not-so-subtle laughter. I, realising that this guy was a few signatures short of a full autograph book, stayed completely straight-faced, and answered:
"Yeah. I can see how you'd get the two of those confused."
Poor guy didn't really get it. He carried on, blissfully unaware of his sweet-but-creepy appearance, shouting "Happy birthday Colin!" before the car door had really even opened - and raising even more judgemental eyebrows - and repeating poor Geoffrey Rush's name more times than I ever care to hear again.
I was smugly satisfied when, last night at the premiere for The Town - which I will be writing about soon! And which was a much bigger event - I saw the same guy, at the back of the huge crowd, looking on with a dejected expression on his face that seemed to say:
"With this crowd I'll never get Jennifer Aniston's autograph. No wait, not Jennifer Aniston..... Ben Affleck. Ben Affleck's autograph..."
Luckily this year I've been here for at least the first half of the Festival, and while it's proving almost impossible to get tickets for anything, I'm doing my best to check out as much of it as possible. Anyone who knows me will know that the translation for that, for the most part, is a nice bit of celebrity spotting. Some would say stalking.... I would staunchly deny it. Before giving in and admitting to it.
So my first experience of TIFF was, of course, a couple of hours spent on Yorkville in the north of the city. Yorkville is the place to be for celebs, and the place to see for all avid celebrity spotters. It's home to the Four Seasons and Hazelton hotels, as well as designer stores and exclusive clubs and bars. It's also right around the corner from all the other top-notch hotels and hangouts. Myself and another celebrity-obsessed friend arrived there at around 4:30pm on Friday, which in hindsight wasn't all that wise - the first big opening night of the Festival, at the time of evening when pretty much everyone would either be getting ready to go out, or already on their way.
My friend is somewhat of a seasoned pro at star spotting, so she suggested we take a look inside the Four Seasons. "I hung out in the lobby there for a few hours yesterday, but I didn't see anyone..." she said. For her, the exceptional part of that sentence was the lack of sightings, not the fact that she just racked up to the Four Seasons and plonked herself down on one of their plush lobby sofas for the afternoon. So, following suit, I wandered into that very same lobby whilst practising my very best "I'm supposed to be here" version of nonchalance. Once again, it worked, and once again... no celebs. Just a lot of important-looking people stood around waiting for more important-looking people.
The waiting did pay off. A little later on we watched Bill Murray (who I hope wasn't going anywhere fancy, since he was wearing a simple body warmer and baseball cap) get into his waiting car outside the Hazelton and be driven off slowly, pausing with his window open to allow fans to take photographs. It's nice to see the real old-school actors having time for their fans. Something which was brilliantly juxtaposed ten minutes later, when Megan Fox was whisked away in a big, white Audi with blacked out windows and, from what I could make out from their silhouettes, flanked on either side by bodyguards. Wouldn't wanna risk a security threat Megan, would ya. Or worse, a bad photo. Maybe one of those with a half eyelid flutter. Damn, I wish that window had been open...
After that we gave up on Yorkville and headed down to Roy Thomson Hall for the premiere of The King's Speech, a British film which stars Colin Firth as King George VI, and tells the story of his struggle with a bad stutter. We didn't have to wait long for everyone to arrive, the only big stars being Firth and distinguished actor Geoffrey Rush. It was a fairly small premiere, so we had a good view and got to shake hands with Colin. We succeeded in getting the only real reaction from him that night, when my friend shouted "Hey Colin, see you for a beer later, yeah?", and me adding "We'll find a nice Irish pub!".
Aside from Colin's lovely, friendly handshake, the real event of the night was meeting a fairly strange young man who was more of a star-spotting "pro" than either of us could ever wish to be (and would ever wish to be...). His conversation starter was to offer, since he was so tall, to email us his photos if we didn't manage to get any good shots. He then showed us the glossy A4-sized photos he had ready for the two actors to sign, and went on to tell us - in detail - about all the celebrities he'd met and seen so far this Festival. The best moment, though, came when he proudly said:
"And last year I was the only person to get Robert Deniro's autograph... No, wait. It wasn't Robert Deniro. Who was it...... Oh yeah, Mariah Carey. Mariah Carey's autograph."
Everyone around me burst into not-so-subtle laughter. I, realising that this guy was a few signatures short of a full autograph book, stayed completely straight-faced, and answered:
"Yeah. I can see how you'd get the two of those confused."
Poor guy didn't really get it. He carried on, blissfully unaware of his sweet-but-creepy appearance, shouting "Happy birthday Colin!" before the car door had really even opened - and raising even more judgemental eyebrows - and repeating poor Geoffrey Rush's name more times than I ever care to hear again.
I was smugly satisfied when, last night at the premiere for The Town - which I will be writing about soon! And which was a much bigger event - I saw the same guy, at the back of the huge crowd, looking on with a dejected expression on his face that seemed to say:
"With this crowd I'll never get Jennifer Aniston's autograph. No wait, not Jennifer Aniston..... Ben Affleck. Ben Affleck's autograph..."
Thursday 9 September 2010
Bonjour... Uhh.... Au Revoir!
"I'm just gutted. This stuff always seems to happen to me."
"It doesn't love. It happens to me too. Today I backed into a lamp post!"
And so went one of the many long-distance, middle-of-the-night phone calls between my mum and I a couple of nights ago, from my hostel in Montreal.
I'd been there for less than 24 hours and I'd managed to get ill. Some sort of sickness bug, or possibly a bit of food poisoning, or something, but all I knew since waking up that morning was that I couldn't even keep down a few sips of water. The one part of my trip, apart from seeing my brother, niece and nephew, that I'd been really excited about had ended before it'd really begun.
Well, not exactly. I did have one good night there, meeting some really cool people and ending up checking out a couple of bars with another English girl with whom I drunkenly discovered I shared my birthday...
Ash: "I don't know how to say my birthday in French. How do I say 18th?"
Zoe: "Dix-huit. Dix huit Avril....."
Ash: "What? Shut up. When's your birthday?
Zoe: "Dix Huit. Avril. Eighteenth of April."
Ash: "No it isn't. Get out your passport."
[Cue around 20 minutes of "Shut up's!" and passing passports around, and of course a couple of random French guys who don't speak english, laughing at our photos and saying "Black... pool?" in a variety of ways].
So, two days early I arrive back in Toronto. I wish I could have stuck around and enjoyed my time with the great people I met, but being ill by yourself in a random hostel isn't all that fun - especially in a French-speaking area when your French amounts to "Do you speak English?", "Is there a toilet?" and "Hello, my name is Pierre, and I am a Vet" (which I'm sure will make at least some sense to my fellow classmates from lessons with the legendary Madame Castick!).
It sucks. Full on sucks. But this stuff happens, and you just have to look on the bright side.
Or make one up so you don't cry!
"It doesn't love. It happens to me too. Today I backed into a lamp post!"
And so went one of the many long-distance, middle-of-the-night phone calls between my mum and I a couple of nights ago, from my hostel in Montreal.
I'd been there for less than 24 hours and I'd managed to get ill. Some sort of sickness bug, or possibly a bit of food poisoning, or something, but all I knew since waking up that morning was that I couldn't even keep down a few sips of water. The one part of my trip, apart from seeing my brother, niece and nephew, that I'd been really excited about had ended before it'd really begun.
Well, not exactly. I did have one good night there, meeting some really cool people and ending up checking out a couple of bars with another English girl with whom I drunkenly discovered I shared my birthday...
Ash: "I don't know how to say my birthday in French. How do I say 18th?"
Zoe: "Dix-huit. Dix huit Avril....."
Ash: "What? Shut up. When's your birthday?
Zoe: "Dix Huit. Avril. Eighteenth of April."
Ash: "No it isn't. Get out your passport."
[Cue around 20 minutes of "Shut up's!" and passing passports around, and of course a couple of random French guys who don't speak english, laughing at our photos and saying "Black... pool?" in a variety of ways].
So, two days early I arrive back in Toronto. I wish I could have stuck around and enjoyed my time with the great people I met, but being ill by yourself in a random hostel isn't all that fun - especially in a French-speaking area when your French amounts to "Do you speak English?", "Is there a toilet?" and "Hello, my name is Pierre, and I am a Vet" (which I'm sure will make at least some sense to my fellow classmates from lessons with the legendary Madame Castick!).
It sucks. Full on sucks. But this stuff happens, and you just have to look on the bright side.
Or make one up so you don't cry!
Sunday 5 September 2010
Creativity Vs The Clock
A funny thing can happen to you sometimes. You reach a point, in whatever situation you're currently in, where you're absorbed into your own routine so much that it becomes difficult to add any more elements into that routine. Not only that, some of the old, well-worn elements can lose their place.
In short, shit becomes pretty boring. And if you're anything like me, your solution will likely be to grab that routine by the ankles, turn it upside down and shake all of the out-of-date, loose change out of its pockets. Then, stand it up, straighten its collar, give it a couple of slaps around the face and tell it to sort itself out.
So, you ask, what's the meaning of all this, of all these metaphors? What are you trying to tell me? Well... I quit my job. Yep. teagirl is currently flying solo on the teabag front. No big pots of hot beverage from this kettle right now, just one solitary, stolen-from-Starbucks mug.
My time had come to leave Halo Post Production. I'd had a - mostly - brilliant time working there, learning plenty of useful skills along the way. The biggest plus was getting to work, day in, day out (and often night in, night out!) with some of my best friends. Someone told me recently that all people who work in TV are crazy on some level, which I'm finding makes for some very interesting and enjoyable friendships. But you can't stay in one place for the people, as sad as it is - and was - to leave them behind and move on. I'd gotten everything I could get out of the job, there wasn't room for progression, and while I would have always given it my all, my heart was starting to focus itself elsewhere. And I'm very much a "heart" kind of girl.
The question I've heard the most so far, naturally, has been "So where are you heading next?" This is where all that "grabbing by the ankles" and shaking things up business comes in. In true Ash style, I've changed pretty much everything, quit my stable job (during a recession... yes, I'm aware!) given up my extremely-tiny-and-lime-green London home, all with no real plan.
There's a bit of a plan. I'm in Toronto right now visiting my brother (and doing my last piece of decision-making about my possible 6-month stint here next summer). When I get back to the UK I'm having some much-needed family time in Blackpool before throwing myself into everything again. Which means more couch-surfing and hopefully some production jobs that will lead to something stable, so I can set up camp in the Big Smoke once again....
But it wasn't all about the job, about changing my situation to better suit my progression. Something else occured to me, only part-way through all these changes, and bear with me, because it may sound a little pretentious at first. But, I felt that my creativity was being stifled. I've always been creative, and I mean always. In anything too.... music, writing, sketching... at one point I could even make over 50 things out of one of those cardboard toilet roll holders. And creativity was exactly one of those things that had become excluded from my routine. Not only because I didn't have any real spare time, but because I was so absorbed by that routine - and so focused on spending all free hours between the pub and my bed - that I didn't really feel like being creative anymore. I didn't want to make the time for it. I stopped writing, I can't tell you the last time I drew anything that wasn't a moustache on Katie Price's photographed face. And I stopped blogging.
So, I'm back. If only for the reason that I really don't have any bloody excuse now.
Stick the kettle on, would you?
In short, shit becomes pretty boring. And if you're anything like me, your solution will likely be to grab that routine by the ankles, turn it upside down and shake all of the out-of-date, loose change out of its pockets. Then, stand it up, straighten its collar, give it a couple of slaps around the face and tell it to sort itself out.
So, you ask, what's the meaning of all this, of all these metaphors? What are you trying to tell me? Well... I quit my job. Yep. teagirl is currently flying solo on the teabag front. No big pots of hot beverage from this kettle right now, just one solitary, stolen-from-Starbucks mug.
My time had come to leave Halo Post Production. I'd had a - mostly - brilliant time working there, learning plenty of useful skills along the way. The biggest plus was getting to work, day in, day out (and often night in, night out!) with some of my best friends. Someone told me recently that all people who work in TV are crazy on some level, which I'm finding makes for some very interesting and enjoyable friendships. But you can't stay in one place for the people, as sad as it is - and was - to leave them behind and move on. I'd gotten everything I could get out of the job, there wasn't room for progression, and while I would have always given it my all, my heart was starting to focus itself elsewhere. And I'm very much a "heart" kind of girl.
The question I've heard the most so far, naturally, has been "So where are you heading next?" This is where all that "grabbing by the ankles" and shaking things up business comes in. In true Ash style, I've changed pretty much everything, quit my stable job (during a recession... yes, I'm aware!) given up my extremely-tiny-and-lime-green London home, all with no real plan.
There's a bit of a plan. I'm in Toronto right now visiting my brother (and doing my last piece of decision-making about my possible 6-month stint here next summer). When I get back to the UK I'm having some much-needed family time in Blackpool before throwing myself into everything again. Which means more couch-surfing and hopefully some production jobs that will lead to something stable, so I can set up camp in the Big Smoke once again....
But it wasn't all about the job, about changing my situation to better suit my progression. Something else occured to me, only part-way through all these changes, and bear with me, because it may sound a little pretentious at first. But, I felt that my creativity was being stifled. I've always been creative, and I mean always. In anything too.... music, writing, sketching... at one point I could even make over 50 things out of one of those cardboard toilet roll holders. And creativity was exactly one of those things that had become excluded from my routine. Not only because I didn't have any real spare time, but because I was so absorbed by that routine - and so focused on spending all free hours between the pub and my bed - that I didn't really feel like being creative anymore. I didn't want to make the time for it. I stopped writing, I can't tell you the last time I drew anything that wasn't a moustache on Katie Price's photographed face. And I stopped blogging.
So, I'm back. If only for the reason that I really don't have any bloody excuse now.
Stick the kettle on, would you?
Thursday 10 June 2010
She's funny, that Ash...
As you have probably read, two days ago I published a post talking about the funny things that I tend to witness when in and around London. Usually, this involves my enjoyment of other people's misfortune since, let's face it, when someone does something really stupid, it's pretty funny.
Well. Less than 24 hours after posting one such event occured... What are the chances, right?
Yesterday, on the commute into work, a girl was just entering the station as the train she needed was pulling into the platform. She'd walked in on the opposite side of the tracks, so needed to cross over a footbridge to catch the train. As she ran up the steps she slipped - who'd a thunk it, rain in June! - and despite going down quite heavily, picked herself up and carried on running across the bridge.
Pretty funny thing to see, right? That wasn't all....
As she was coming to the bottom of the steps on the other side, the train doors started to beep (meaning the doors were about to close), so she quickly legged it onto the nearest carriage, JUST made it..... and slipped on the wet floor, flying smack bang on her arse.
Gotta say, it was a pretty impressive fall! Legs flying into the air and everything.
To make matters worse, the carriage was fairly busy, and the chorus of "Oohhh!"'s from the concerned-yet-actually-just-really-amused witnesses only confirmed that, yep, everyone just saw your comedy fall, love.
Embarrassing, right? I suppose the fact that is June doesn't really make people very wary of slippery floors, which is a good thing for calamity-spotters like myself...
Oh. And one more thing. It was me. The girl slipping on her arse in front of everyone?
Me.
Well. Less than 24 hours after posting one such event occured... What are the chances, right?
Yesterday, on the commute into work, a girl was just entering the station as the train she needed was pulling into the platform. She'd walked in on the opposite side of the tracks, so needed to cross over a footbridge to catch the train. As she ran up the steps she slipped - who'd a thunk it, rain in June! - and despite going down quite heavily, picked herself up and carried on running across the bridge.
Pretty funny thing to see, right? That wasn't all....
As she was coming to the bottom of the steps on the other side, the train doors started to beep (meaning the doors were about to close), so she quickly legged it onto the nearest carriage, JUST made it..... and slipped on the wet floor, flying smack bang on her arse.
Gotta say, it was a pretty impressive fall! Legs flying into the air and everything.
To make matters worse, the carriage was fairly busy, and the chorus of "Oohhh!"'s from the concerned-yet-actually-just-really-amused witnesses only confirmed that, yep, everyone just saw your comedy fall, love.
Embarrassing, right? I suppose the fact that is June doesn't really make people very wary of slippery floors, which is a good thing for calamity-spotters like myself...
Oh. And one more thing. It was me. The girl slipping on her arse in front of everyone?
Me.
Tuesday 8 June 2010
That Funny London
I'm walking down the street in the West End. Or on the tube travelling home late at night.
I'm strolling around Covent Garden, or sat outside a crudely-named pub with a pint in hand.
I can be anywhere, doing anything, when something happens. Something a bit strange, or amusing, or a little outrageous. It may be something small, but something notable, something that I might find myself tweeting about immediately, or not-so-subtly calling a mate about.
The fact is, it's funny, that London. On an almost daily basis I will witness something that makes me love living here...... Well either that or it makes me wonder why the hell I left my (now) seemingly quiet and tame existence in Blackpool.
And I never blog about it. Never. So it's time that changed. From now on I promise to share these oddities with you.
Here's a little gem that I did tweet about, but hell, I'm gonna tell you about it anyway.
One afternoon a couple of months ago, I was sat on the tube on my way home. For those who don't know, right now "home" for me is Buckhurst Hill in Essex, at the Eastern end of the Central Line. I was minding my own business reading my book, A Rumor of War by Philip Caputo, which is a memoir of his time serving in Vietnam.
I get as far as Leyton and two men get onto my carriage and sit next to me. To be perfectly honest, I can't work out if they've been at the merry juice or if they're just "high on life", i.e. a little bit nutty. I keep reading, but I notice that they're talking about me, and trying to see what book I'm reading.
I keep reading. In the end one of them asks about the book, so I show them the cover and tell them it's a book about a soldier in the Vietnam War. He says: "Oh! I've been to 'Nam! Dage'Nam!"
I'm polite, and laugh along. I say this, but in actual fact I did think it was hilarious. Old joke, of course, but good on the old boy for trying!
To be honest this wasn't the funniest part of my encounter with these men, who did look a little like someone should go up to them with a flannel and give them a good wash. After that moment of hilarity, the other guy asks if it's a fictional story - I have a feeling that whatever my response, it probably won't make it much clearer for him - and I tell him yes it is, and how this guy really served in Vietnam.
He turns to his mate and says: "Vietnam. That's the Second World War init?"
Friday 28 May 2010
Brilliance
I wanted to share this, because I think it's actually fantastic.
Erika Iris Simmons is an artist who currently lives in Georgia, USA. She works with "non traditional media" to create her artwork, so things like playing cards, old books, and cassette tape. She has a few different ranges of work, including pieces created from different kinds of paper, or portraits of artists/authors made from rearranges pieces of their own original work.
However, it's this selection that caught my eye:
"Ghost in the Machine"
It's brilliant. For realisies amazing. What a cool idea!
These are my favourites:
Bob Marley
Betty Davis
Alfred Hitchcock
So have a gander, and enjoy!
(You can also visit Erika's website at www.iri5.com)
Erika Iris Simmons is an artist who currently lives in Georgia, USA. She works with "non traditional media" to create her artwork, so things like playing cards, old books, and cassette tape. She has a few different ranges of work, including pieces created from different kinds of paper, or portraits of artists/authors made from rearranges pieces of their own original work.
However, it's this selection that caught my eye:
"Ghost in the Machine"
It's brilliant. For realisies amazing. What a cool idea!
These are my favourites:
Bob Marley
Betty Davis
Alfred Hitchcock
So have a gander, and enjoy!
(You can also visit Erika's website at www.iri5.com)
Sunday 2 May 2010
You've evaded me for too long, pesky celebs.....
I've been told off.
My good friend Evan just sat me down and - I quote - "bitched" at me (she's American....!) at the state of my blogging affairs.
"Ash, seriously, I've been checking your site for Celeb Spots of the Week since about January. You should rename it Celeb Spots of the Month, not Celeb Spots of the Week..."
She's right. I know this much is true. But it's funny she should have had this rant at this particular point in time. Aside from a few Z-listers, those pesky celebs have evaded me for a few weeks. It seems the bitter winter months of late have caused them to retreat into their own fur-lined, diamond-studded version of hibernation.
However, in the last week or so they have begun to reemerge...
Here you are folks! Celeb Spots of the Month...!
Sandy Toksvig - Comedienne, author and presenter - walking right by my work building, down Riding House Street with a group of people.
Wendi Peters - Actress, best known for her role as Cilla in Coronation St, and current star of Grumpy Old Women Live - walking down Great Queen Street in Covent Garden.
Sophie Anderton - Model and "reality TV star", i.e. general all-round bitch on I'm A Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here! - entering one of my work buildings to visit another company. I have a very good story to go with this spot. I may post about it in the future...... Depends if I can get done for some celebrity-self-styled crime or not!
Matt King - Super Hans in Peep Show, Cook's father in Skins, star of Inkheart, Rock n Rolla and Bronson - walking down Oxford St.
Sean Pertwee - Tonnes of TV appearances, most well know for Cold Feet and the third Doctor Who, and the films Dog Soldiers and The 51st State - at our company, recording a voice-over.
Sarah Alexandra - Maybe you don't recognise the name, but you'd recognise the face. She's been in Green Wing, Coupling and Teachers, and played Michelle Phifer's witch sister in Stardust - Also recording a voice over at our place.
Frankie Sandford - Of The Saturdays - Also entering our building to visit another company - Swooooooooooooooooon.
Clare Nasir - GMTV weather girl - attending the launch party of Yo! Sushi on Market Place, with her boyfriend, BBC 6Music DJ Chris Hawkins.
Hardeep Singh Kohli - Roving reporter for The One Show - also at the Yo! Sushi launch party.
Kerry Katona - Ex-Atomic-Kitten member, "Queen of the Jungle" and general trashy reality TV star - seemingly being the "main event" at Yo! Sushi's launch party.
And there you are folks. Nothing special, but after a serious drought for CSOTW, somewhat of an influx of popular personalities for teagirl.
Let's hope they're back in action, and Celeb Spots of the Week doesn't need to become, as suggested by Evan, Celeb Spots of the Month...
Friday 30 April 2010
Yo! Kerry!
On wednesday evening, at around 7pm, I was rummaging around in some library boxes at work when I received a call from one of my colleagues, Carolynne:
"I'm only telling you this because you're a celebrity junkie like me, but the new Yo! Sushi restuarant is opening tonight, and there's loads of paparazzi outside..."
Naturally, since my job as teagirl is not only to make tea but also to celebrity spot, and since Celeb Spots of the Week has suffered a drought recently, on my next run I took a detour round the corner to see what was going on.
To be honest.... not much was going on. It seemed like a nice set up for a launch party, with street cooking, traditional Japanese drums and a small red carpet. I waited around for about 10 minutes, and spotted a couple of minor celebs:
Hardeep Singh Kohli - Best known for his role as a roving reporter on The One Show, and probably even better know for his suspension from the show following a complaint made against him by a female colleague for "inappropriate behaviour."
Clare Nasir and Chris Hawkins - GMTV weather girl and producer, and her BBC 6Music DJ husband.
The "highlight" - and to be honest, if this is the highlight of your busines launch party, then you really need to reevaluate a few things - was the emergence of Kerry Katona from the restaurant, leaving in a black Range Rover. To be fair to the girl, she looked bloody fabulous; obviously in shape, wearing a great outfit, lovely hair and makeup...
Then, once she was in the car and they began to drive off, three paps jumped on their mopeds to chase after her. It turns out she was heading to the premiere of JLo's new movie, The Back-Up Plan, but even so, it struck me as kind of sad that they'd hang around a - let's be honest - crappy sushi restuarant to snap one C-List celebrity, only to jump straight back onto their bikes to then follow her around for rest of the evening.
Sad, yes. But if I was going to be offered a shed-load of money for one photo, then maybe I wouldn't judge so harshly....!
"I'm only telling you this because you're a celebrity junkie like me, but the new Yo! Sushi restuarant is opening tonight, and there's loads of paparazzi outside..."
Naturally, since my job as teagirl is not only to make tea but also to celebrity spot, and since Celeb Spots of the Week has suffered a drought recently, on my next run I took a detour round the corner to see what was going on.
To be honest.... not much was going on. It seemed like a nice set up for a launch party, with street cooking, traditional Japanese drums and a small red carpet. I waited around for about 10 minutes, and spotted a couple of minor celebs:
Hardeep Singh Kohli - Best known for his role as a roving reporter on The One Show, and probably even better know for his suspension from the show following a complaint made against him by a female colleague for "inappropriate behaviour."
Clare Nasir and Chris Hawkins - GMTV weather girl and producer, and her BBC 6Music DJ husband.
The "highlight" - and to be honest, if this is the highlight of your busines launch party, then you really need to reevaluate a few things - was the emergence of Kerry Katona from the restaurant, leaving in a black Range Rover. To be fair to the girl, she looked bloody fabulous; obviously in shape, wearing a great outfit, lovely hair and makeup...
Then, once she was in the car and they began to drive off, three paps jumped on their mopeds to chase after her. It turns out she was heading to the premiere of JLo's new movie, The Back-Up Plan, but even so, it struck me as kind of sad that they'd hang around a - let's be honest - crappy sushi restuarant to snap one C-List celebrity, only to jump straight back onto their bikes to then follow her around for rest of the evening.
Sad, yes. But if I was going to be offered a shed-load of money for one photo, then maybe I wouldn't judge so harshly....!
Friday 23 April 2010
No ordinary lunch break.
I have something exciting to share.
I stumbled across something yesterday that I had been completely unaware of - probably due to the head-in-the-cloud-edness that I've been experiencing lately.
The discovery was this.
Yes, Walkers have brought out a range of 15 new flavours in time with the World Cup. Ok, so maybe it's not all that exciting... but hey, it brightens up my lunch hours spent alternating between ham, chicken and rice concoctions...
So yesterday I had myself a bag of 'French Garlic Baguette', and I have to tell you, they were pretty darned good. A few seconds after finishing my first crisp, I had the distinct feeling that I had not simply eaten a garlic baguette flavoured crisp, but actually the garlic baguette itself. Extraordinary. I also tried the 'Brazilian Salsa' flavour, curtesy of a colleague, and they were pretty good too.
So my plan now is to make the most of this exciting period in crisp history, and munch my way through as many of the new flavours as possible. Gotta say, not really feeling the 'Scottish Haggis' or 'Australian BBQ Kangaroo' too much, amongst others. But hey, maybe someone could sponsor me for some charity, and maybe then I'll endure the likes of 'Welsh Rarebit'....
Yeah ok, maybe not.
Today.... I'm not sure, but I think I'm gonna go for 'Italian Spaghetti Bolognaise'.
Or maybe 'Spanish Chicken Paella'.
Or 'Japanese Teriyaki Chicken'...........
I stumbled across something yesterday that I had been completely unaware of - probably due to the head-in-the-cloud-edness that I've been experiencing lately.
The discovery was this.
Yes, Walkers have brought out a range of 15 new flavours in time with the World Cup. Ok, so maybe it's not all that exciting... but hey, it brightens up my lunch hours spent alternating between ham, chicken and rice concoctions...
So yesterday I had myself a bag of 'French Garlic Baguette', and I have to tell you, they were pretty darned good. A few seconds after finishing my first crisp, I had the distinct feeling that I had not simply eaten a garlic baguette flavoured crisp, but actually the garlic baguette itself. Extraordinary. I also tried the 'Brazilian Salsa' flavour, curtesy of a colleague, and they were pretty good too.
So my plan now is to make the most of this exciting period in crisp history, and munch my way through as many of the new flavours as possible. Gotta say, not really feeling the 'Scottish Haggis' or 'Australian BBQ Kangaroo' too much, amongst others. But hey, maybe someone could sponsor me for some charity, and maybe then I'll endure the likes of 'Welsh Rarebit'....
Yeah ok, maybe not.
Today.... I'm not sure, but I think I'm gonna go for 'Italian Spaghetti Bolognaise'.
Or maybe 'Spanish Chicken Paella'.
Or 'Japanese Teriyaki Chicken'...........
Tuesday 6 April 2010
Lef'... Right... Lef' Right Lef'...
"I'm shitting myself."
"Me too. It's good though, to do something that scares the shit out of you every so often."
"Yeah, that's true."
"It'll be fine."
"....I'm shitting myself."
"Yeah. Me too."
11.30am on Saturday, and my friend Katherine and I are sat in Cafe Nero, nervously sipping a cup of tea each. We've made the mistake of meeting up an hour before our first hip hop dance class at Pineapple Studios, something that we've both been dying to do for a really long time, but only just had the guts.
Here's just a small example of my thought process at that moment in time.....
"What the hell am I doing?
It was all well and good planning to go to a class, but now I actually have to do it...
But this is something I've been wanting to do for such a long time, and it is only a beginner class.
I can't bloody learn choreography. Cheryl Cole's music video is one thing, a class with a trained dancer......
It could be really fun, though. I do love dancing.
But the last time I went to a dance class it was full of prissy schoolgirls and their cliques....
It's not gonna be like that here though, it's just a class, I'm not enrolling for anything.
What the hell......."
I imagine Katherine's mind was running through similar things.
So we spent that hour psyching ourselves up for the class, then scaring the shit out of each other, then back to the pep talks, then back to the doubt. It probably wasn't the best idea. But anyway, at 11.45 we left Cafe Nero and somehow dragged ourselves around the corner to Pineapple.
I've gotta say it....... It wasn't half as bad as I expected. Our teacher was an awesome Spanish dude called Xavi Monreal (YouTube him!), who was focused and a great teacher, and also pretty funny. There were probably about 30 people in the class, ranging from fairly good dancers right down to absolute beginners, and everyone was so focused on learning the choreo that you didn't have to worry about what you looked like. It was just really fun. Initially I was concentrating so hard on the steps that I forgot I was there to dance and not some sort of lighthearted military drill. Once I relaxed a bit I started to run through the steps in my own usual style, and it actually started to look alright!
So... all in all, a good experience. Most importantly it was a good laugh. Especially towards the end when we had to just dance around the room with each other doing the "UFO". Katherine was right, you do need to do something that scares the shit out of you every so often, it's good for you. And with every new thing that you do it probably doesn't get any less scary. But what would be the point in that?
And before you ask, no... I did not see Louie Spence!
"Me too. It's good though, to do something that scares the shit out of you every so often."
"Yeah, that's true."
"It'll be fine."
"....I'm shitting myself."
"Yeah. Me too."
11.30am on Saturday, and my friend Katherine and I are sat in Cafe Nero, nervously sipping a cup of tea each. We've made the mistake of meeting up an hour before our first hip hop dance class at Pineapple Studios, something that we've both been dying to do for a really long time, but only just had the guts.
Here's just a small example of my thought process at that moment in time.....
"What the hell am I doing?
It was all well and good planning to go to a class, but now I actually have to do it...
But this is something I've been wanting to do for such a long time, and it is only a beginner class.
I can't bloody learn choreography. Cheryl Cole's music video is one thing, a class with a trained dancer......
It could be really fun, though. I do love dancing.
But the last time I went to a dance class it was full of prissy schoolgirls and their cliques....
It's not gonna be like that here though, it's just a class, I'm not enrolling for anything.
What the hell......."
I imagine Katherine's mind was running through similar things.
So we spent that hour psyching ourselves up for the class, then scaring the shit out of each other, then back to the pep talks, then back to the doubt. It probably wasn't the best idea. But anyway, at 11.45 we left Cafe Nero and somehow dragged ourselves around the corner to Pineapple.
I've gotta say it....... It wasn't half as bad as I expected. Our teacher was an awesome Spanish dude called Xavi Monreal (YouTube him!), who was focused and a great teacher, and also pretty funny. There were probably about 30 people in the class, ranging from fairly good dancers right down to absolute beginners, and everyone was so focused on learning the choreo that you didn't have to worry about what you looked like. It was just really fun. Initially I was concentrating so hard on the steps that I forgot I was there to dance and not some sort of lighthearted military drill. Once I relaxed a bit I started to run through the steps in my own usual style, and it actually started to look alright!
So... all in all, a good experience. Most importantly it was a good laugh. Especially towards the end when we had to just dance around the room with each other doing the "UFO". Katherine was right, you do need to do something that scares the shit out of you every so often, it's good for you. And with every new thing that you do it probably doesn't get any less scary. But what would be the point in that?
And before you ask, no... I did not see Louie Spence!
Tuesday 23 March 2010
"Oi, Mush!"
On the morning of Thursday 18th March I woke up in a daze, five minutes before I needed to leave the house for work. I scrambled out of bed, almost stepping onto last night's dirty plate, and, on realising that NONE of my washing had dried over night, grabbed one of my last two clean (and dry) T-shirts and some jeans. I had an impressively quick wash, legged it out of the house and somehow managed to catch my train.
It wasn't until I'd reached worked and checked my emails that I realised I'd forgotten something. Something really bloody big. Later in the day we had a booking for a voice-over, with a very high-profile client attending.... None other than Sir David Attenborough, hero to many and national treasure.
I was about to meet Sir David Attenborough, about to represent my company in his - and other high-profile clients' - presence..... and I was wearing a T-shirt with beachwear-clad lego people on the front with the tagline "I'll Be Ready..... For Mouth to Mouth." Awesome.
They were arriving at lunchtime, so I went to Marks & Spencer and bought a spread of mixed sandwich platters, nibbles (nuts, crisps, dip, etc), and cupcakes. Then, just before they arrived, I gave in to my inner OCD and prepared and laid out the food in a way that can only be described as beautiful. Sandwiches laid out in a fancy pattern. Bowls of nibbles arranged symmetrically. Cupcakes set out in alternating colours. I was extremely proud.
My pride was short-lived. On arrival the clients decided to split up, half waiting in reception while the other half discussed the plan for the afternoon. Thus I had to disturb my intricate lunch spread and share the food between the two groups. Sir David never got to see it. But I know he would have loved it.
There wasn't too much for me to do for them once they got into the swing of things. There were a couple of drink orders, though, and so finally my moment came. I entered the room, hastily took their orders, with one of the other clients checking with Sir David that he wanted a black coffee - in response he didn't turn around, just simply said "Yes, yes please." I made my teas and coffees, conscious that this was probably the most important tea round I'd ever done, and was happy with the again simple "Thank you" that I received on delivering that coffee to everyone's favourite Sir.
And that was it, that was the extent of my experience with Sir David Attenborough. One more amazing moment followed, when he was sat in reception waiting for his car to arrive, chatting away about nature to the other colleagues. The man's intelligence is astounding. He was talking about things that you wouldn't expect anyone to know about, so matter-of-factly that you'd think he was talking about his pet dog.
Time for one more piece of awesomeness. Danny, our dubbing mixer who was working on the project with the clients asked Sir David at the beginning of the session what he should call him. Sir David replied:
"You can just call me David. Or if not you can just shout "Oi, Mush!" "
It wasn't until I'd reached worked and checked my emails that I realised I'd forgotten something. Something really bloody big. Later in the day we had a booking for a voice-over, with a very high-profile client attending.... None other than Sir David Attenborough, hero to many and national treasure.
I was about to meet Sir David Attenborough, about to represent my company in his - and other high-profile clients' - presence..... and I was wearing a T-shirt with beachwear-clad lego people on the front with the tagline "I'll Be Ready..... For Mouth to Mouth." Awesome.
They were arriving at lunchtime, so I went to Marks & Spencer and bought a spread of mixed sandwich platters, nibbles (nuts, crisps, dip, etc), and cupcakes. Then, just before they arrived, I gave in to my inner OCD and prepared and laid out the food in a way that can only be described as beautiful. Sandwiches laid out in a fancy pattern. Bowls of nibbles arranged symmetrically. Cupcakes set out in alternating colours. I was extremely proud.
My pride was short-lived. On arrival the clients decided to split up, half waiting in reception while the other half discussed the plan for the afternoon. Thus I had to disturb my intricate lunch spread and share the food between the two groups. Sir David never got to see it. But I know he would have loved it.
There wasn't too much for me to do for them once they got into the swing of things. There were a couple of drink orders, though, and so finally my moment came. I entered the room, hastily took their orders, with one of the other clients checking with Sir David that he wanted a black coffee - in response he didn't turn around, just simply said "Yes, yes please." I made my teas and coffees, conscious that this was probably the most important tea round I'd ever done, and was happy with the again simple "Thank you" that I received on delivering that coffee to everyone's favourite Sir.
And that was it, that was the extent of my experience with Sir David Attenborough. One more amazing moment followed, when he was sat in reception waiting for his car to arrive, chatting away about nature to the other colleagues. The man's intelligence is astounding. He was talking about things that you wouldn't expect anyone to know about, so matter-of-factly that you'd think he was talking about his pet dog.
Time for one more piece of awesomeness. Danny, our dubbing mixer who was working on the project with the clients asked Sir David at the beginning of the session what he should call him. Sir David replied:
"You can just call me David. Or if not you can just shout "Oi, Mush!" "
Thursday 11 March 2010
Well done, Sandra...
I haven't seen 'The Blind Side'. I can't say for myself whether I believe Sandra Bullock was a deserving winner of the Oscar for Best Actress in a Leading Role. I have to say, I was a little shocked when I heard, only because of the level of talent within the category this year, brilliant actresses playing difficult roles in amazing films. I plan on watching 'The Blind Side', because it sounds like it will be fantastic, but until then I will say only this.
Even if, say, it was argued that Sandra Bullock was perhaps not the most deserving nominee, she deserved to win that award simply for the speech she gave upon receiving it. She covered everything that is essential to a good acceptance speech: acknowledging her fellow nominees in a way that was appropriately light hearted and serious at the same time; thanking the people that needed to be thanked and also thanking the people that winners so often forget; and keeping her emotions confined to the end of her speech, in an extremely touching and obviously genuine acknowledgement of what is really important in life.
Watch it HERE.
Perfect. God I love her.
Even if, say, it was argued that Sandra Bullock was perhaps not the most deserving nominee, she deserved to win that award simply for the speech she gave upon receiving it. She covered everything that is essential to a good acceptance speech: acknowledging her fellow nominees in a way that was appropriately light hearted and serious at the same time; thanking the people that needed to be thanked and also thanking the people that winners so often forget; and keeping her emotions confined to the end of her speech, in an extremely touching and obviously genuine acknowledgement of what is really important in life.
Watch it HERE.
Perfect. God I love her.
Friday 5 March 2010
"You don't get Soul II Soul playing a live set twice..."
A client once said to me: "It's only TV." Nomatter how much people act like the world will end if all doesn't run smoothly, it is only TV. The fact is, we're all part of the vicious circle that is this end-of-the-world mentality. Since one person, somewhere, genuinely does believe - or rather, likes to believe - that all of hell will break loose at the slightest delay of a tape, or the lack of maple peacan pastries and granola yoghurts at 11am, we are all dragged into the same way of thinking. Thus we all, at some point, overreact to any glitches, or any sign of delay.
It's fine, it's the way the industry works. If we didn't react that way, who knows... maybe nothing would ever get made on time and we'd be faced with constant reruns of Come Dine With Me and Friends........ Oh wait. On the other hand, everything might go just fine, driven on by everyones passion, and with a lot more happy people. Ok, probably not.
One such event happened recently that triggered a memory from a few months ago. It was something trivial, one of those things that, in the grand scheme of things, wasn't all that important and didn't really warrant the tension and stress it actually evoked. Nothing would have gone all that wrong had it not worked out. Nothing. This is what it reminded me of....
The year was 2009. I was working in my first runner job at the Autumn/Winter London Fashion Week. I had been a runner for a total of two and a half days, I believe. We had just filmed the amazing Pam Hogg show which had taken place in the underground carpark of the building, and which many celebrities had attended. The aftershow party took place back upstairs in the main On/Off catwalk room, and they had none other than Soul II Soul performing live that night. Five minutes before they were due to come on stage, someone in our team realised that we needed some sort of XLR cable to get the audio from the performance, a cable which they had left down in the carpark after the show.
Naturally, I said I'd sort it, and promptly ran down to the side entrance to the carpark through which we had entered before, only to find it locked up. I ran from there around the perimeter of the building to the main entrance on the opposite side (I don't do measurements, but let's just say it was a bloody big building so it was pretty bloody far), and down about three massive ramps to where the catwalk had been. I say "been" because everything had already been packed up. Everything. All that were left were a few sweaty men and a load of boxes.
I looked at my watch at this point. It had been seven or eight minutes since I'd left the party. If everything was going to plan, Soul II Soul were performing at that exact moment. Bugger. I went over to one of the more friendly-looking guys, who was probably a little startled by my bedraggled appearance, and I asked him, whilst trying not to die from lack of breath (I'm no sprinter) if he'd seen a spare cable lying around. He told me, of course, that everything had been packed away. I thanked him and went up a level, having a look around a van and huge stack of boxes that were about to be loaded. I must have looked pretty frantic, because when the same guy came back up he offered to have a look in the waiting boxes. He said there were so many boxes that the chances weren't high, but low and behold, in only the second box he opened were more XLR cables than you could possible know what to do with (and I didn't even know what to do with one!). I could have kissed him. I didn't. He said I could take one, because they must have ours, and I legged it back around the building, knowing that the show was probably halfway through already.
I got back to the party fifteen minutes after leaving, and squashed my way into the room to the sound of loud but indistinct music, found my team, and peeked over the many heads to see nobody on stage. Nobody. I'd bloody made it. I handed over the cable, playing it cool whilst secretly beaming at the sheer luck of the thing, and received a pat on the back from the editor and a "Nice one, Ash."
Sweet. The show began, the camera guys got some great shots, and the audio, although not of amazing quality, existed at least! I danced my socks off with the rest of the team, built up even more of a disgusting sweat, and had a freaking awesome time.
So, whenever something is going slightly wrong, or someone's blood pressure is visibly rising from just the threat of impending television doom, and although they wouldn't have a clue what I was talking about, I now always want to grab them by the shoulders and say:
"It will be fine. It could be Soul II Soul's live set at risk. You don't get Soul II Soul playing a live set twice..."
Well, you don't.
:D
It's fine, it's the way the industry works. If we didn't react that way, who knows... maybe nothing would ever get made on time and we'd be faced with constant reruns of Come Dine With Me and Friends........ Oh wait. On the other hand, everything might go just fine, driven on by everyones passion, and with a lot more happy people. Ok, probably not.
One such event happened recently that triggered a memory from a few months ago. It was something trivial, one of those things that, in the grand scheme of things, wasn't all that important and didn't really warrant the tension and stress it actually evoked. Nothing would have gone all that wrong had it not worked out. Nothing. This is what it reminded me of....
The year was 2009. I was working in my first runner job at the Autumn/Winter London Fashion Week. I had been a runner for a total of two and a half days, I believe. We had just filmed the amazing Pam Hogg show which had taken place in the underground carpark of the building, and which many celebrities had attended. The aftershow party took place back upstairs in the main On/Off catwalk room, and they had none other than Soul II Soul performing live that night. Five minutes before they were due to come on stage, someone in our team realised that we needed some sort of XLR cable to get the audio from the performance, a cable which they had left down in the carpark after the show.
Naturally, I said I'd sort it, and promptly ran down to the side entrance to the carpark through which we had entered before, only to find it locked up. I ran from there around the perimeter of the building to the main entrance on the opposite side (I don't do measurements, but let's just say it was a bloody big building so it was pretty bloody far), and down about three massive ramps to where the catwalk had been. I say "been" because everything had already been packed up. Everything. All that were left were a few sweaty men and a load of boxes.
I looked at my watch at this point. It had been seven or eight minutes since I'd left the party. If everything was going to plan, Soul II Soul were performing at that exact moment. Bugger. I went over to one of the more friendly-looking guys, who was probably a little startled by my bedraggled appearance, and I asked him, whilst trying not to die from lack of breath (I'm no sprinter) if he'd seen a spare cable lying around. He told me, of course, that everything had been packed away. I thanked him and went up a level, having a look around a van and huge stack of boxes that were about to be loaded. I must have looked pretty frantic, because when the same guy came back up he offered to have a look in the waiting boxes. He said there were so many boxes that the chances weren't high, but low and behold, in only the second box he opened were more XLR cables than you could possible know what to do with (and I didn't even know what to do with one!). I could have kissed him. I didn't. He said I could take one, because they must have ours, and I legged it back around the building, knowing that the show was probably halfway through already.
I got back to the party fifteen minutes after leaving, and squashed my way into the room to the sound of loud but indistinct music, found my team, and peeked over the many heads to see nobody on stage. Nobody. I'd bloody made it. I handed over the cable, playing it cool whilst secretly beaming at the sheer luck of the thing, and received a pat on the back from the editor and a "Nice one, Ash."
Sweet. The show began, the camera guys got some great shots, and the audio, although not of amazing quality, existed at least! I danced my socks off with the rest of the team, built up even more of a disgusting sweat, and had a freaking awesome time.
So, whenever something is going slightly wrong, or someone's blood pressure is visibly rising from just the threat of impending television doom, and although they wouldn't have a clue what I was talking about, I now always want to grab them by the shoulders and say:
"It will be fine. It could be Soul II Soul's live set at risk. You don't get Soul II Soul playing a live set twice..."
Well, you don't.
:D
Saturday 20 February 2010
"Listen to yourself, for goodness sake Ash..."
I've made it no secret lately.... or at least through my Twitter and Facebook I've made it no secret... that I've been somewhat stuck in a rut for the past few weeks. A lot of things have been going on in my mind... work, family, living arrangements, personal life. Pretty bog standard stuff to be honest. But I think this "rut" has most likely been caused by something that I discussed not too long ago, my need to keep moving, my "itchy feet syndrome".
No, I don't have some sort of itch-inducing condition in my extremities. I've just been through so much change lately, and moved from all sorts of pillar to every kind of post, that my four-month-long routine of stability, and prolonged "work-sleep-work-sleep-work" periods, has meant that I've become a little frustrated.
It's a good thing. Contrary to my many "FML" tweets and Facebook status updates detailing many a painfully monotonous day, it's good that I'm not allowing myself to become complacent, and that I'm ready for the next challenge. It keeps me working hard at my current job, but also mindful that I won't be here forever, and that I need to keep bettering myself in order to keep moving towards my goal.
I just seem to have forgotten to take my own advice is all. I've been thinking too much into the things I - actually, quite wisely - told others to push to the back of their minds, so as not to get bogged down with doubt, worry or intimidation.
Who knows, maybe I really do need to move on now. It's just so difficult, what with the risk of losing financial stability from my now full-time job, rent to pay each month, and my "plan B" being 200 miles away in everyone's favourite seaside resort.
I'm sticking it out for now. Not because I'm in any way "settling"; I enjoy my job. Yeah, it's bloody stressful sometimes, but I'm a runner. You take on other people's stress and try to make it lighter. And soon I will move on, because everybody does. Right now I'm making the most of the great environment I work in, partly by learning some new things with the tech department.
So. Don't worry about me. Not that you were, but I've had a fair few texts beginning with "I've seen some of you're statuses...." and ending with "...Call me if you need a chat." For which I'm very grateful, because it gets a little lonely sometimes in the Big Smoke. But honestly, I just need to sort myself out a little, and listen to myself for once.
No, I don't have some sort of itch-inducing condition in my extremities. I've just been through so much change lately, and moved from all sorts of pillar to every kind of post, that my four-month-long routine of stability, and prolonged "work-sleep-work-sleep-work" periods, has meant that I've become a little frustrated.
It's a good thing. Contrary to my many "FML" tweets and Facebook status updates detailing many a painfully monotonous day, it's good that I'm not allowing myself to become complacent, and that I'm ready for the next challenge. It keeps me working hard at my current job, but also mindful that I won't be here forever, and that I need to keep bettering myself in order to keep moving towards my goal.
I just seem to have forgotten to take my own advice is all. I've been thinking too much into the things I - actually, quite wisely - told others to push to the back of their minds, so as not to get bogged down with doubt, worry or intimidation.
Who knows, maybe I really do need to move on now. It's just so difficult, what with the risk of losing financial stability from my now full-time job, rent to pay each month, and my "plan B" being 200 miles away in everyone's favourite seaside resort.
I'm sticking it out for now. Not because I'm in any way "settling"; I enjoy my job. Yeah, it's bloody stressful sometimes, but I'm a runner. You take on other people's stress and try to make it lighter. And soon I will move on, because everybody does. Right now I'm making the most of the great environment I work in, partly by learning some new things with the tech department.
So. Don't worry about me. Not that you were, but I've had a fair few texts beginning with "I've seen some of you're statuses...." and ending with "...Call me if you need a chat." For which I'm very grateful, because it gets a little lonely sometimes in the Big Smoke. But honestly, I just need to sort myself out a little, and listen to myself for once.
Monday 15 February 2010
Celeb Spots..... Delayed due to blog neglect...
Firstly, apologies. I have been uber mega ultra busy of late and have completely neglected the old blog. Which probably means there'll be an influx of posts in the next few days. I've missed it!
This Celeb Spots is going to be a bit of a mish-mash of the past couple of weeks, and probably not the most interesting I'm afraid. But here you are.
First, there was Bernard Hill. Captain of the Titanic, King Theoden in Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, and 'coiner' of the term "Gizza job!"
He was in to record a voice over at work one Saturday, and I was rather excited to meet him. He really was lovely, ordering simply a couple of white teas, no sugar, and smiling and sticking his tongue out at me when I entered the room with his hot beverage! I wanted to compliment him on the courageous way he stayed with the Titanic when she was sinking, rather than fleeing on a life boat, but decided against it. When he came to leave I was coming back through the door after a run, and when he saw me he said "Oh! The tea lady!" I wanted to say "Well, actually it's teagirl... and you should check out my blog....." but again..... decided against it.
Next came Chris Evans. Now, I've already seen him, so usually wouldn't give him another slot of CSOTW, but I wanted to share... slash vent... this! I passed him on Great Portland Street, probably on his way back down to Radio 1, and he was on the phone. As I passed by him he was saying, "Yeah, he's a right faggot..."
Nice Chris, real nice... What a moron.
Also on Great Portland Street sometime last week, I spotted comedian Marcus Brigstocke, from the likes of Argumental, Have I Got News For You and The Late Edition. Now he's not huge in the comedy world, but here are two things to get excited about:
1. He wrote this awesome joke, which has made the rounds and been claimed by many a joke-thief:
"If Pac-Man had affected us as kids, we'd all be running around in dark rooms, munching pills and listening to repetitive electronic music."
2. He looks like Sam The Eagle from the Muppets.
This Celeb Spots is going to be a bit of a mish-mash of the past couple of weeks, and probably not the most interesting I'm afraid. But here you are.
First, there was Bernard Hill. Captain of the Titanic, King Theoden in Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, and 'coiner' of the term "Gizza job!"
He was in to record a voice over at work one Saturday, and I was rather excited to meet him. He really was lovely, ordering simply a couple of white teas, no sugar, and smiling and sticking his tongue out at me when I entered the room with his hot beverage! I wanted to compliment him on the courageous way he stayed with the Titanic when she was sinking, rather than fleeing on a life boat, but decided against it. When he came to leave I was coming back through the door after a run, and when he saw me he said "Oh! The tea lady!" I wanted to say "Well, actually it's teagirl... and you should check out my blog....." but again..... decided against it.
Next came Chris Evans. Now, I've already seen him, so usually wouldn't give him another slot of CSOTW, but I wanted to share... slash vent... this! I passed him on Great Portland Street, probably on his way back down to Radio 1, and he was on the phone. As I passed by him he was saying, "Yeah, he's a right faggot..."
Nice Chris, real nice... What a moron.
Also on Great Portland Street sometime last week, I spotted comedian Marcus Brigstocke, from the likes of Argumental, Have I Got News For You and The Late Edition. Now he's not huge in the comedy world, but here are two things to get excited about:
1. He wrote this awesome joke, which has made the rounds and been claimed by many a joke-thief:
"If Pac-Man had affected us as kids, we'd all be running around in dark rooms, munching pills and listening to repetitive electronic music."
2. He looks like Sam The Eagle from the Muppets.
Finally, my friends and I were in a McDonalds along Regent St on Saturday when we spotted Jake Wood who plays Max Branning in Eastenders. We had to restrain ourselves from going up to him and asking "So, did you kill Archie?" and "Honestly, are you shitting yourself about Friday's live episode?"
So that's it I think. Oh, well, there was Charlie from Big Brother 10, shopping in Hamleys, and Mo from Big Brother 9 working there, wearing a name tag that said "Richard", which fooled noone, and looking like he was having some sort of breakdown. But aside from that, that's all folks.
Laters.
Tuesday 2 February 2010
"I don't do regrets. Just things I wish had happened a little differently."
I wish I'd gotten to see Michael Jackson perform live, with my front row ticket for tonight, February 1st 2010, which always had been too good to be true.
I wish that after starting dancing lessons at the age of 3 I hadn't given up so early, not knowing how much I would love to dance when I was older. I wish now that I had the guts to get out there and do what I love so much.
I wish my grandparents, Lily and Joe Mowbray, had lived long enough to see who I grew up to be, and that I'd been able to get to know them. I know I would have loved their spirit.
I wish I'd not made my mum worry quite so much when I was 14.
I wish I could have had the chance to see Bob Marley perform No Woman No Cry, and this time cried at the real beauty of it rather than just the wonder.
I wish that, during my last ever competitive game of rounders in High School, I hadn't lost my temper and got myself sent off.
I wish I'd been wiser and been a little easier on my first love.
I wish that, on the day I met Simon Cowell, my auntie and I hadn't decided to collect as much free crap as possible on the commute into London, thus making me look either very strange or freakishly intelligent when rooting in my bag for my camera.
And sometimes... sometimes I wish I had the guts to be completely honest about the way I feel, and actually do something about it.
I wish that after starting dancing lessons at the age of 3 I hadn't given up so early, not knowing how much I would love to dance when I was older. I wish now that I had the guts to get out there and do what I love so much.
I wish my grandparents, Lily and Joe Mowbray, had lived long enough to see who I grew up to be, and that I'd been able to get to know them. I know I would have loved their spirit.
I wish I'd not made my mum worry quite so much when I was 14.
I wish I could have had the chance to see Bob Marley perform No Woman No Cry, and this time cried at the real beauty of it rather than just the wonder.
I wish that, during my last ever competitive game of rounders in High School, I hadn't lost my temper and got myself sent off.
I wish I'd been wiser and been a little easier on my first love.
I wish that, on the day I met Simon Cowell, my auntie and I hadn't decided to collect as much free crap as possible on the commute into London, thus making me look either very strange or freakishly intelligent when rooting in my bag for my camera.
And sometimes... sometimes I wish I had the guts to be completely honest about the way I feel, and actually do something about it.
Sunday 24 January 2010
Celeb Spots of the Week
I did quite well this week!
- Richard Hammond - He came into work to record a voice over for his latest TV programme, and although I'd heard mixed things about him, he was very nice. I took him a black coffee, and later he ordered lunch from Pho, which does Vietnamese street food. He reeled off this long Vietnamese name for whatever he wanted, and then said "But you know what that is don't you, I don't need to tell you that!" - All I could think was "My god.... I'm having banter with Richard Hammond!"
- James McAvoy - Not my spot unfortunately, but one of the other runners. He had spotted him eating outside Benito's Hat on Goodge Street, and when he got back (about 5 minutes later) and told me, I ran down there to try and spot him, but he'd already left. Gutted. I must have only missed him by 2 minutes!
- Felix from Basement Jaxx - walking along Saint Annes Court.
- Moss from The IT Crowd - also walking down Saint Annes Court... We were sat in the window of Soho Thai at the time and all turned to look at him, and he turned around looking quite scared while he swiftly walked around the corner!
- Anne-Marie Duff - wife of James McAvoy and star of Shameless, The Virgin Queen and Nowhere Boy, walking down Margaret Street towards Regent Street, looking very normal!
- Richard Hammond - He came into work to record a voice over for his latest TV programme, and although I'd heard mixed things about him, he was very nice. I took him a black coffee, and later he ordered lunch from Pho, which does Vietnamese street food. He reeled off this long Vietnamese name for whatever he wanted, and then said "But you know what that is don't you, I don't need to tell you that!" - All I could think was "My god.... I'm having banter with Richard Hammond!"
- James McAvoy - Not my spot unfortunately, but one of the other runners. He had spotted him eating outside Benito's Hat on Goodge Street, and when he got back (about 5 minutes later) and told me, I ran down there to try and spot him, but he'd already left. Gutted. I must have only missed him by 2 minutes!
- Felix from Basement Jaxx - walking along Saint Annes Court.
- Moss from The IT Crowd - also walking down Saint Annes Court... We were sat in the window of Soho Thai at the time and all turned to look at him, and he turned around looking quite scared while he swiftly walked around the corner!
- Anne-Marie Duff - wife of James McAvoy and star of Shameless, The Virgin Queen and Nowhere Boy, walking down Margaret Street towards Regent Street, looking very normal!
Wednesday 20 January 2010
"Well... my symptoms include itchy feet and chronic daydreaming......"
I've been doing a lot of pondering lately (yes, it's one of those posts...) ...and here's something I know for sure:
I want to move to Toronto.
I always have, ever since my first visit to my brother in 1999. I've been a few times since, and my month-long visit last year completely confirmed and increased my desire to do so. I don't honestly think I want to move there permanently - I'm incredibly close to my family so would never want to be apart from them forever - but definitely for at least a couple of years. I just have a love for Toronto that I know I'm never going to have for any other destination on earth. It feels like a home away from home. My love for the city is a deep and entirely rational one, as opposed to the love I have for other places that I would never realistically emigrate to. And I honestly think I will do it. I planned to next summer, but then I moved to London, and I definitely need to carry on with my career for a while.
Now here's another bit of 'ponder-fodder'....
I want to do a filmmaking Masters in America.
I have been on the emailing list for the New York Film Academy for a good while now, but today I printed out an application form. It's probably not the one I would go for - I want to do the Filmmaking MA which they only do at the Disney Studios in Florida or in Abu Dhabi, and I would really like to do it in New York or California. Also I can't think too much into it yet because I need to significantly bump up my portfolio before I can apply. But I want to do it. I didn't want to do a Masters when I graduated, and I definitely would only do it if it was as practical-based as this particular course. I would not be able to stand another year of university otherwise!
I've realised, while pondering these two potentially life-altering decisions, that I have a slight travel bug. My small glimpse of the world this summer, followed by my spontaneous relocation to London has given me itchy feet. Even though I'm doing well in London, have great contacts in the industry and a good job prospects.... I'm ready to move on again.
That was the most difficult part of settling into my job here at the post-production company, and was something I didn't expect. I found myself within a few weeks thinking about where I might be moving onto next, and worrying about staying put too long. Both things that even now I don't need to worry about too much, but an obvious result of a manic few months.
I obviously need to get away again. Not so much need.... but want to.... and I honestly think while you're young and have the desire to see something more than your own back yard, that equals need. Which will it be? Will I move to Toronto, something I actually can't wait to do, and something that my putting-off has frustrated me a great deal? Or will I up sticks for the US and hopefully give my career a little potential boost, which would involve big worries about funding but would be something that I would love every second of?
Or... will I end up doing neither one? I hope not. I hope in my next few months - or couple of years - in London, nothing happens to halt either plan. I also hope that I get over the itchy feet for a while. Because I really do love London, and although I daydream about moving across the pond on a regular basis, when I really think about it....
....I don't want to leave the Big Smoke just yet.
I want to move to Toronto.
I always have, ever since my first visit to my brother in 1999. I've been a few times since, and my month-long visit last year completely confirmed and increased my desire to do so. I don't honestly think I want to move there permanently - I'm incredibly close to my family so would never want to be apart from them forever - but definitely for at least a couple of years. I just have a love for Toronto that I know I'm never going to have for any other destination on earth. It feels like a home away from home. My love for the city is a deep and entirely rational one, as opposed to the love I have for other places that I would never realistically emigrate to. And I honestly think I will do it. I planned to next summer, but then I moved to London, and I definitely need to carry on with my career for a while.
Now here's another bit of 'ponder-fodder'....
I want to do a filmmaking Masters in America.
I have been on the emailing list for the New York Film Academy for a good while now, but today I printed out an application form. It's probably not the one I would go for - I want to do the Filmmaking MA which they only do at the Disney Studios in Florida or in Abu Dhabi, and I would really like to do it in New York or California. Also I can't think too much into it yet because I need to significantly bump up my portfolio before I can apply. But I want to do it. I didn't want to do a Masters when I graduated, and I definitely would only do it if it was as practical-based as this particular course. I would not be able to stand another year of university otherwise!
I've realised, while pondering these two potentially life-altering decisions, that I have a slight travel bug. My small glimpse of the world this summer, followed by my spontaneous relocation to London has given me itchy feet. Even though I'm doing well in London, have great contacts in the industry and a good job prospects.... I'm ready to move on again.
That was the most difficult part of settling into my job here at the post-production company, and was something I didn't expect. I found myself within a few weeks thinking about where I might be moving onto next, and worrying about staying put too long. Both things that even now I don't need to worry about too much, but an obvious result of a manic few months.
I obviously need to get away again. Not so much need.... but want to.... and I honestly think while you're young and have the desire to see something more than your own back yard, that equals need. Which will it be? Will I move to Toronto, something I actually can't wait to do, and something that my putting-off has frustrated me a great deal? Or will I up sticks for the US and hopefully give my career a little potential boost, which would involve big worries about funding but would be something that I would love every second of?
Or... will I end up doing neither one? I hope not. I hope in my next few months - or couple of years - in London, nothing happens to halt either plan. I also hope that I get over the itchy feet for a while. Because I really do love London, and although I daydream about moving across the pond on a regular basis, when I really think about it....
....I don't want to leave the Big Smoke just yet.
Friday 15 January 2010
Almost Celeb Spots of the Week
So this week was fairly rubbish for me. At the beginning of the week I had a stomach bug AND a viral throat infection, and, just in time to see the doctor on Wednesday, managed to develop an ear infection too! This not only resulted in me feeling epically awful, but also going stir crazy in my tiny shoe-box of a bedroom.
Thus, those pesky celebs have evaded me for a week. However, on reading this week's copy of Heat magazine I made some frustrating discoveries. Heat's "Spotted" feature - a double-page spread listing celebrities that have been spotted out and about recently, and where they were seen - used to be a fun, if trivial, highlight of my fortnightly gossip-fest. But recently, or to be more precise, since I started working in Central London, it has become something more. Oxford Street, Regent Street, Mortimer Street, Margaret Street, Charlotte Street, Dean Street, Wardour Street... Not only do I know these streets like the back of my hand, but I walk along them every day.
"Spotted" is no longer something to wonder at ("Ooh... Keira Knightly was shopping at Tesco? I shop at Tesco!) or a form of light entertainment. "Spotted" is now, I believe, Heat's way of rubbing it in my face that some of my favourite stars grace the very pavements that my footprints are so well worn into. Ok, so maybe Britain's favourite glossy doesn't have it in for me, but it's still pretty damn annoying.
So, here Ladies and Gentlemen, are my "almost" Celeb Spots of the Week... We'll start with the most gutting of all, shall we?
- "Alicia Keys chatting furiously on her mobile phone as she left The Langham hotel in Regent Street, London." - The Langham hotel?! I pass by that hotel every single day on my way into work, not to mention sometimes walking past the entrance on the occasional run. Every time I linger a little longer to see who the swanky Bentley is waiting for, and every time I see nobobdy of interest. Alicia Keys?!
- "Pete Burns wearing a hideous outfit outisde Starbucks on Wardour Street, London." - Ok, so I don't actually care about missing Pete Burns, but i have always been intrigued to see for myself if he really is that ugly in the flesh. Shame.
- "Radio DJs Nick Grimshaw and Annie Mac meeting for lunch in Itsu in London's Soho." - Would have been cool, Annie Mac is a legend.
- "Alfie Allen and Jaime Winstone on Shaftesbury Avenue, central London..." - Not that great, but hey, I got excited about Fiona Phillips and Diane Louise Jordan...
- "Simon Pegg going into a sandwich shop on Charlotte Street, central London." - I've heard mixed things about this guy, but what a brilliant Celeb Spot that would have been!
And finally... and incredibly annoyingly...
- "Michael McIntyre rushing down Goodge Street, central London." - ARGH! I work SO close to Goodge Street, I walk along it most days. And Michael McIntyre is my FAVOURITE comedian. Excuse the slightly tasteless use of capitals, but there's no other way to convey my frustration. Michael McIntyre! As a Northern lass I used to be a die-hard Peter Kay fan, and I do still love the guy, but - sorry Peter - Michael stole my heart from the first time I saw him on Live At The Apollo. I have all his DVDs, and went to see him live last year in Lancaster with my old flatmates, also superfans of the floppy-haired funnyman.
One can only hope that he was doing what we all love him for; skipping whilst swinging both arms together...
Passer-by: "What are you doing, Michael?"
Michael: "I'm winning, that's what I'm doing!"
[Quotations taken from Heat, "Spotted", 16-22 January 2010]
Thus, those pesky celebs have evaded me for a week. However, on reading this week's copy of Heat magazine I made some frustrating discoveries. Heat's "Spotted" feature - a double-page spread listing celebrities that have been spotted out and about recently, and where they were seen - used to be a fun, if trivial, highlight of my fortnightly gossip-fest. But recently, or to be more precise, since I started working in Central London, it has become something more. Oxford Street, Regent Street, Mortimer Street, Margaret Street, Charlotte Street, Dean Street, Wardour Street... Not only do I know these streets like the back of my hand, but I walk along them every day.
"Spotted" is no longer something to wonder at ("Ooh... Keira Knightly was shopping at Tesco? I shop at Tesco!) or a form of light entertainment. "Spotted" is now, I believe, Heat's way of rubbing it in my face that some of my favourite stars grace the very pavements that my footprints are so well worn into. Ok, so maybe Britain's favourite glossy doesn't have it in for me, but it's still pretty damn annoying.
So, here Ladies and Gentlemen, are my "almost" Celeb Spots of the Week... We'll start with the most gutting of all, shall we?
- "Alicia Keys chatting furiously on her mobile phone as she left The Langham hotel in Regent Street, London." - The Langham hotel?! I pass by that hotel every single day on my way into work, not to mention sometimes walking past the entrance on the occasional run. Every time I linger a little longer to see who the swanky Bentley is waiting for, and every time I see nobobdy of interest. Alicia Keys?!
- "Pete Burns wearing a hideous outfit outisde Starbucks on Wardour Street, London." - Ok, so I don't actually care about missing Pete Burns, but i have always been intrigued to see for myself if he really is that ugly in the flesh. Shame.
- "Radio DJs Nick Grimshaw and Annie Mac meeting for lunch in Itsu in London's Soho." - Would have been cool, Annie Mac is a legend.
- "Alfie Allen and Jaime Winstone on Shaftesbury Avenue, central London..." - Not that great, but hey, I got excited about Fiona Phillips and Diane Louise Jordan...
- "Simon Pegg going into a sandwich shop on Charlotte Street, central London." - I've heard mixed things about this guy, but what a brilliant Celeb Spot that would have been!
And finally... and incredibly annoyingly...
- "Michael McIntyre rushing down Goodge Street, central London." - ARGH! I work SO close to Goodge Street, I walk along it most days. And Michael McIntyre is my FAVOURITE comedian. Excuse the slightly tasteless use of capitals, but there's no other way to convey my frustration. Michael McIntyre! As a Northern lass I used to be a die-hard Peter Kay fan, and I do still love the guy, but - sorry Peter - Michael stole my heart from the first time I saw him on Live At The Apollo. I have all his DVDs, and went to see him live last year in Lancaster with my old flatmates, also superfans of the floppy-haired funnyman.
One can only hope that he was doing what we all love him for; skipping whilst swinging both arms together...
Passer-by: "What are you doing, Michael?"
Michael: "I'm winning, that's what I'm doing!"
[Quotations taken from Heat, "Spotted", 16-22 January 2010]
Thursday 14 January 2010
"The first key to writing is to write, not to think!"
I want to write a screenplay.
I've been thinking about it for a good while (I know, I know... "not to think..."). These are my thoughts.
1. I can write. I'm a fairly good writer. Not an amazing writer... but I think I have the potential to write a good script.
2. I can see how the scene will pan out, for whatever I'm writing. Meaning I don't sit with a pen and paper and try to write the scene itself, rather visualise it and let it write itself. I have no idea, but it seems to me this could be a good technique to have.
3. I love film. And so the thought of seeing something that I have not only contributed to, but actually written or co-written, come to life... Well. That would be a dream come true.
4. (And this is where reality kicks in) I've never really written anything creatively. My writing skill is based on non-fiction essays and articles, which yes, I'm good at, but does that really set me in good stead to write a screenplay? It would seem not.
5. I don't seem to have the inspiration to come up with concepts, even though I think that if I were given a concept I would be more than able to run with it. Frustrating at the least. Especially when I probably do have the inspiration, it's probably staring me in the face. I just don't know how to see it yet.
6. I know that, even though it's not entirely necessary, taking some sort of course in writing screenplays, or just creative writing in general, would help me, but right now I have zero time to do anything like that.
7. Do I even have the time to write?
I don't want to become a writer. I just want to do it for a bit of fun... Something me and a few friends can take on and make something out of. Some more experience. But right now I'm stumped. I don't know how the hell I'm gonna do it.
But I will. And on the first few attempts it'll be shit. But I'll get there.
Failing that, I'll turn all Michael Bay on you... and bombard you with glorified pyrotechnics until you forget all about the shoddy dialogue and lack of narrative.
:)
“You must write your first draft with your heart. You rewrite with your head. The first key to writing is to write, not to think!”
Finding Forrester (2000) - William Forrester (Sean Connery)
I've been thinking about it for a good while (I know, I know... "not to think..."). These are my thoughts.
1. I can write. I'm a fairly good writer. Not an amazing writer... but I think I have the potential to write a good script.
2. I can see how the scene will pan out, for whatever I'm writing. Meaning I don't sit with a pen and paper and try to write the scene itself, rather visualise it and let it write itself. I have no idea, but it seems to me this could be a good technique to have.
3. I love film. And so the thought of seeing something that I have not only contributed to, but actually written or co-written, come to life... Well. That would be a dream come true.
4. (And this is where reality kicks in) I've never really written anything creatively. My writing skill is based on non-fiction essays and articles, which yes, I'm good at, but does that really set me in good stead to write a screenplay? It would seem not.
5. I don't seem to have the inspiration to come up with concepts, even though I think that if I were given a concept I would be more than able to run with it. Frustrating at the least. Especially when I probably do have the inspiration, it's probably staring me in the face. I just don't know how to see it yet.
6. I know that, even though it's not entirely necessary, taking some sort of course in writing screenplays, or just creative writing in general, would help me, but right now I have zero time to do anything like that.
7. Do I even have the time to write?
I don't want to become a writer. I just want to do it for a bit of fun... Something me and a few friends can take on and make something out of. Some more experience. But right now I'm stumped. I don't know how the hell I'm gonna do it.
But I will. And on the first few attempts it'll be shit. But I'll get there.
Failing that, I'll turn all Michael Bay on you... and bombard you with glorified pyrotechnics until you forget all about the shoddy dialogue and lack of narrative.
:)
“You must write your first draft with your heart. You rewrite with your head. The first key to writing is to write, not to think!”
Finding Forrester (2000) - William Forrester (Sean Connery)
Wednesday 13 January 2010
"Honey, I'm off out for a New Years tipple..."
I spotted this at my local station on New Years Eve morning.....
...Looks like Santa knows how to wind down after a busy Christmas!
...Looks like Santa knows how to wind down after a busy Christmas!
(A little late in posting this, but had to share it!)
Thursday 7 January 2010
"Do you like your tea strong, Mr Strong?"
Ahahahaha. I'm a funny one.
So today - definite the highlight of the day! - we had Mark Strong in recording a voice over. If you're not sure who that is, firstly shame on you, he's a British acting gem! And secondly, look out for tomorrow's Celeb Spots of the Week for more info.
I'm sorry folks. I honestly do apologise for this epic fail. Mark Strong did not order tea, or coffee, or anything that I could make myself and thus blog in too much detail about the amount of times he likes his tea bag swilled, or how he prefers brown sugar, or how towards the end of the day he enjoyed a lemon and ginger tea for a bit of a pick-up.
I can tell you this. He ordered a cappucino when he arrived, which we swiftly went out to pick up.
For lunch he simply ordered a Bananarama Smoothie from Crussh.
How very Hollywood.
So today - definite the highlight of the day! - we had Mark Strong in recording a voice over. If you're not sure who that is, firstly shame on you, he's a British acting gem! And secondly, look out for tomorrow's Celeb Spots of the Week for more info.
I'm sorry folks. I honestly do apologise for this epic fail. Mark Strong did not order tea, or coffee, or anything that I could make myself and thus blog in too much detail about the amount of times he likes his tea bag swilled, or how he prefers brown sugar, or how towards the end of the day he enjoyed a lemon and ginger tea for a bit of a pick-up.
I can tell you this. He ordered a cappucino when he arrived, which we swiftly went out to pick up.
For lunch he simply ordered a Bananarama Smoothie from Crussh.
How very Hollywood.
Celeb Spots of the Week - First of 2010!
Things have been slow on the old celeb front. Mainly due to not doing much running around Soho lately, but my first week back in 2010 has been fairly fruitful.
-Chris Evans - Strolling down Great Portland St (probably after his radio show down the road at Radio 1) with a strange looking man-bag that looked somewhat like a vanity case....
-Mel C - Walking down Riding House St towards Regent St - didn't realise it was her at first; she looked up and smiled and I only realised as I walked past. Gutted I didn't stop for an autograph!
-Mark Strong - Star of Sunshine, Stardust, and various Guy-Ritchie-fests such as Revolver, Rock N Rolla and the new Sherlock Holmes in which he plays Lord Blackwood, in one of our audio suites recording a voice over. A very nice and very attractive man!
-Chris Evans - Strolling down Great Portland St (probably after his radio show down the road at Radio 1) with a strange looking man-bag that looked somewhat like a vanity case....
-Mel C - Walking down Riding House St towards Regent St - didn't realise it was her at first; she looked up and smiled and I only realised as I walked past. Gutted I didn't stop for an autograph!
-Mark Strong - Star of Sunshine, Stardust, and various Guy-Ritchie-fests such as Revolver, Rock N Rolla and the new Sherlock Holmes in which he plays Lord Blackwood, in one of our audio suites recording a voice over. A very nice and very attractive man!
Tuesday 5 January 2010
"One Day In Your Life...."
This post was going to be called 'A Day In The Life', but the Michael Jackson song title was too good to resist.
So. Here's the deal. Many friends and family members, and in fact total strangers, frequently ask me about my job, and often ask me what a typical day at work is like for me. I always try to explain, and fail because it's not exactly something you can fit in two sentences without making it sound like the worst job in the world. Which it isn't. So I'm going to explain it in a little more detail using the example of today.... and probably still make it sound like the worst job in the world. But bear with me.
I worked the late shift in our main building today, but I've also included the duties from the start of the day to give you and all-round idea.
8am - Open up the building. Check the night report - an email that goes round from around 7pm the previous night and is updated by each staff member as they leave with details of what has been done and what needs to be done the next day. Put water and glasses in each suite.
8.30am - Cover reception until receptionist/bookings staff arrive at 9.
9-11am (ish) - Take breakfast orders (tea, coffee, toast, fruit, etc) from all suites and serve them. Usually the busiest period of the day - when we're full this is 13 suites-worth of hungry clients all calling you at the same time!
11.30am - Take lunch menus round to clients who are in online suites.
12pm - Go out for lunches - varies but is usually really busy and can sometimes mean going to opposite areas to get various orders. Means rushing around with lots of carrier bags whilst trying to get back before it all goes cold! Serve lunches.
1pm - Early runner goes on lunch break. Sometimes cover reception during this time too if not too busy. Covering reception means answering phones, tranferring calls, organising tapes (logging in, dispatching, moving location on the system, etc.).
2pm - Today I went on a run during this hour, to Talkback Thames on Newman St. Usually never have to go any further than a 15-20min walk away from our main building. Also went on a run to our other building on Margaret St.
3pm - Early runner went to cover the mid-shift runner at our other building. The other building is smaller with 5 online suites (audio, grading, etc), and that shift involves the same job, just slightly different depending on the amount of clients attending/tapes to be organised, as there is no receptionist. Our main building has 11 offline suites and 2 onlines.
4pm - Late runner (me today) goes on lunch break. You get an hour, which I usually spend watching TV on iPlayer or 4OD to unwind a little.
5pm - Early runner leaves. From this point onwards we do general jobs in the quiet periods (cleaning, toilet checks, suite clearing, etc).
6pm - Take, go out for and serve dinner orders.
7pm - 9pm - Mid-shift runner leaves at 7. Clear all suites of empty cups, plates, etc, and tidy them up as much as possible. Clean the kitchen, set the last dishwasher load off and prepare anything for the next morning (e.g. dispatch notes for tapes to be delivered in the morning, putting the next day's daysheet on the wall). As long as everything is done and all the clients are gone, the late runner leaves at 9pm.
Throughout the day we do any runs that need to be done, either between our buildings or to other companys also working on the programmes we are doing. We also generally look after the clients, mainly with drinks and food, but also with other odd-jobs. It means we spend most of our day in the kitchen, and do a LOT of running around throughout the day. The shifts are also not strictly set to the allocated times. Often on the late shift it can run over by half an hour, an hour, or sometimes longer. Before christmas I worked one shift when one of our projects had finished and all of the deliverable tapes needed to be dispatched the next morning. This included 20 episodes, with 3 tapes and 3 DVDs per episode. I had to wait for them all to be done, double check they were all there and create a dispatch note for them all, which ended up with me not leaving until 1.30am. It's all good though, it doesn't happen very often so you just get on with it when it does, and you get a cab home if you miss the last tube, so don't have to worry about getting home safely.
So that's it. Like I said, it probably sounds shit, but it's not. Yeah, sometimes it gets to you a bit that you are just on the bottom ring and generally take people's shit for a living, but all in all it's a great environment to work in, 95% of the people I work with are lovely and good fun, and I get the experience of seeing post-production television happen before my eyes.
Plus, you get to recognise every form of tape by just looking at its cover.... what more could you want to learn in life?
So. Here's the deal. Many friends and family members, and in fact total strangers, frequently ask me about my job, and often ask me what a typical day at work is like for me. I always try to explain, and fail because it's not exactly something you can fit in two sentences without making it sound like the worst job in the world. Which it isn't. So I'm going to explain it in a little more detail using the example of today.... and probably still make it sound like the worst job in the world. But bear with me.
I worked the late shift in our main building today, but I've also included the duties from the start of the day to give you and all-round idea.
8am - Open up the building. Check the night report - an email that goes round from around 7pm the previous night and is updated by each staff member as they leave with details of what has been done and what needs to be done the next day. Put water and glasses in each suite.
8.30am - Cover reception until receptionist/bookings staff arrive at 9.
9-11am (ish) - Take breakfast orders (tea, coffee, toast, fruit, etc) from all suites and serve them. Usually the busiest period of the day - when we're full this is 13 suites-worth of hungry clients all calling you at the same time!
11.30am - Take lunch menus round to clients who are in online suites.
12pm - Go out for lunches - varies but is usually really busy and can sometimes mean going to opposite areas to get various orders. Means rushing around with lots of carrier bags whilst trying to get back before it all goes cold! Serve lunches.
1pm - Early runner goes on lunch break. Sometimes cover reception during this time too if not too busy. Covering reception means answering phones, tranferring calls, organising tapes (logging in, dispatching, moving location on the system, etc.).
2pm - Today I went on a run during this hour, to Talkback Thames on Newman St. Usually never have to go any further than a 15-20min walk away from our main building. Also went on a run to our other building on Margaret St.
3pm - Early runner went to cover the mid-shift runner at our other building. The other building is smaller with 5 online suites (audio, grading, etc), and that shift involves the same job, just slightly different depending on the amount of clients attending/tapes to be organised, as there is no receptionist. Our main building has 11 offline suites and 2 onlines.
4pm - Late runner (me today) goes on lunch break. You get an hour, which I usually spend watching TV on iPlayer or 4OD to unwind a little.
5pm - Early runner leaves. From this point onwards we do general jobs in the quiet periods (cleaning, toilet checks, suite clearing, etc).
6pm - Take, go out for and serve dinner orders.
7pm - 9pm - Mid-shift runner leaves at 7. Clear all suites of empty cups, plates, etc, and tidy them up as much as possible. Clean the kitchen, set the last dishwasher load off and prepare anything for the next morning (e.g. dispatch notes for tapes to be delivered in the morning, putting the next day's daysheet on the wall). As long as everything is done and all the clients are gone, the late runner leaves at 9pm.
Throughout the day we do any runs that need to be done, either between our buildings or to other companys also working on the programmes we are doing. We also generally look after the clients, mainly with drinks and food, but also with other odd-jobs. It means we spend most of our day in the kitchen, and do a LOT of running around throughout the day. The shifts are also not strictly set to the allocated times. Often on the late shift it can run over by half an hour, an hour, or sometimes longer. Before christmas I worked one shift when one of our projects had finished and all of the deliverable tapes needed to be dispatched the next morning. This included 20 episodes, with 3 tapes and 3 DVDs per episode. I had to wait for them all to be done, double check they were all there and create a dispatch note for them all, which ended up with me not leaving until 1.30am. It's all good though, it doesn't happen very often so you just get on with it when it does, and you get a cab home if you miss the last tube, so don't have to worry about getting home safely.
So that's it. Like I said, it probably sounds shit, but it's not. Yeah, sometimes it gets to you a bit that you are just on the bottom ring and generally take people's shit for a living, but all in all it's a great environment to work in, 95% of the people I work with are lovely and good fun, and I get the experience of seeing post-production television happen before my eyes.
Plus, you get to recognise every form of tape by just looking at its cover.... what more could you want to learn in life?
Saturday 2 January 2010
"Goodbye 2009... You've been good to me."
What an amazing year. Like any year there have been major up and major downs, but overall I think this has definitely been my best year to date....
2009 began, as usual, with post-Christmas family time. Translation - yet more turkey concoctions, bad TV re-runs and frenzied rooting through the empty wrappers in the Quality Street tin for untouched green triangles.
Then, it was back to uni. The next few months consisted of attempting to retain my good grades whilst, in all honesty, partying way too much with my fantastic friends. I couldn't have asked for more. Intense Wii sessions - the entire flat crammed into my tiny bedroom taking turns to play on the maracas, and me and my flatmate desperately trying to complete House of the Dead late at night, whilst taking the piss out of the cheesy dialogue. Then there were the days spent sunbathing on the fields, when someone always seemed to turn up with a crate of beer and a disposable barbeque, the immense roadtrip to Scotland with the girls, and some amazing parties.
Oh, and I wrote my entire dissertation in 36 hours. 8000 words of which were written in the 24 hours before the deadline. On my usual form, I managed to get a reasonable-yet-could-easily-have-been-much-higher grade of 65.
The day I received my results could not have been more of a contrast of up and down. I was over the moon to get a 2:1, and set out to celebrate at a uni-organised party in the bar by my flat. A couple of hours into the evening I got a call from my mum to say that the news was reporting that Michael Jackson had died. I sat down where I was in the street and cried. I have been a huge fan of Michael my entire life, and had been ecstatic for months looking forward to the front row tickets for one of his London concerts in 2010, which I had paid £600 for, as well as another £100 for another show on another night. It was truly one of the saddest things I have experienced.
In July I graduated, extremely happy with my degree, and very sad to be leaving Lancaster, my graduation day being the perfect end to a brilliant year.
At the end of the month I set off on my long-awaited trip to the US and Canada, one of the best experiences I will ever have. Then, a day after returning to the UK I began my new career in London, and have been here ever since. I have worked on fashion shows, music videos, a film, and now for my company in post-production. And the future is already looking bright.
This year also saw the birth of my amazing nephew Lucas, who in his first month survived major heart surgery and has grown into a beautiful, funny, well-behaved and inspirational little soldier.
I'm almost sad to see 2009 go, with so many moments that I would give my right arm to experience all over again. But I'm excited for 2010; my first year that begins entirely in the real world! I honestly have no idea how it's going to pan out, but I'm going to continue to work my backside off to 'keep the dream alive'.
Ahhh.... casual cheesiness. Brilliant.
2009 began, as usual, with post-Christmas family time. Translation - yet more turkey concoctions, bad TV re-runs and frenzied rooting through the empty wrappers in the Quality Street tin for untouched green triangles.
Then, it was back to uni. The next few months consisted of attempting to retain my good grades whilst, in all honesty, partying way too much with my fantastic friends. I couldn't have asked for more. Intense Wii sessions - the entire flat crammed into my tiny bedroom taking turns to play on the maracas, and me and my flatmate desperately trying to complete House of the Dead late at night, whilst taking the piss out of the cheesy dialogue. Then there were the days spent sunbathing on the fields, when someone always seemed to turn up with a crate of beer and a disposable barbeque, the immense roadtrip to Scotland with the girls, and some amazing parties.
Oh, and I wrote my entire dissertation in 36 hours. 8000 words of which were written in the 24 hours before the deadline. On my usual form, I managed to get a reasonable-yet-could-easily-have-been-much-higher grade of 65.
The day I received my results could not have been more of a contrast of up and down. I was over the moon to get a 2:1, and set out to celebrate at a uni-organised party in the bar by my flat. A couple of hours into the evening I got a call from my mum to say that the news was reporting that Michael Jackson had died. I sat down where I was in the street and cried. I have been a huge fan of Michael my entire life, and had been ecstatic for months looking forward to the front row tickets for one of his London concerts in 2010, which I had paid £600 for, as well as another £100 for another show on another night. It was truly one of the saddest things I have experienced.
In July I graduated, extremely happy with my degree, and very sad to be leaving Lancaster, my graduation day being the perfect end to a brilliant year.
At the end of the month I set off on my long-awaited trip to the US and Canada, one of the best experiences I will ever have. Then, a day after returning to the UK I began my new career in London, and have been here ever since. I have worked on fashion shows, music videos, a film, and now for my company in post-production. And the future is already looking bright.
This year also saw the birth of my amazing nephew Lucas, who in his first month survived major heart surgery and has grown into a beautiful, funny, well-behaved and inspirational little soldier.
I'm almost sad to see 2009 go, with so many moments that I would give my right arm to experience all over again. But I'm excited for 2010; my first year that begins entirely in the real world! I honestly have no idea how it's going to pan out, but I'm going to continue to work my backside off to 'keep the dream alive'.
Ahhh.... casual cheesiness. Brilliant.
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