"Good morning... irrationally scared receptionist speaking?"

Yesterday came the moment I'd been dreading for the past four weeks (yes I know, four weeks already). I had to cover our receptionist for the first time.

There are three runners at our company and one receptionist, and we all have to squish our lunch breaks into the afternoon, so when the receptionist goes on her break one of us covers the desk for her. I'd managed to escape doing it so far (less 'escaped' and more wasn't asked because I didn't know what the hell I was doing!), but, rightly so, my time to learn finally came.

I've been sitting on reception in our second building since my first day, but there's more to do on the main reception, so naturally I was... well, insert your own faeces-related obscenity. The job in it's entirety would probably prove damn near impossible for me, but covering for an hour, I knew, wasn't going to be all that bad. Basically I answer the phone, transfer calls to staff and clients, take messages, book couriers, log/dispatch tapes and generally be front of house. And, you know, it went ok. Although booking my first courier was bloody scary and could have gone much more smoothly - although tonight, as a result, I booked two, and each went perfectly!

It wasn't until afterwards that I realised just how irrational I was being. One of my bosses said she'd never seen someone look so scared! And I was. But then, when talking to a colleague in the kitchen after my ordeal was over, I realised that this fairly small thing - which, granted, does carry a lot of pressure when there isn't really room for mistakes - scared me more than all of the other, much bigger, less ordinary that I've done and am doing.

Should I travel through seven airports and take two mammoth bus journeys without really knowing where the hell I'm going? Yeah alright. Today you're going to be our sound assistant, which potentially could have a big effect on several takes of our film, alright? Yeah... alright. Wanna film Clothes Show Live with me? Yeah, course (Haven't told you that bit yet, have I!).

This stuff. No probs. Some nerves, but more excitement and total willingness. Covering reception? I'd rather not. Ok, so I did it again today and it went fine. I'm getting the hang of the phone, what to do and what to ask and whatnot, as well as getting to know the system much better. So generally the worst is over, and I should be fine now.

But it's funny. It's funny that the stuff you wouldn't expect to be that scary frightens me much much more than some stuff that would make some people run a mile.

I'm basically just a bit of a silly goose.

(Well Overdue) Celeb Spots of the Week...

Apologies. This post is a tidge late. Well, two weeks late. But here's all the goss from my best week so far for celeb spots. I must admit I was dubious as to the future of Celeb Spots of the Week after a few days of celebrity-less-ness.

And then came David Haye. I was walking to work one morning down Regent St when a black cab stopped about 20 yards ahead of me and out stepped a tall, muscular man with corn-rows and a bandaged hand. I thought to myself, "No.... surely that can't be David "The Haymaker" Haye, Heavyweight Champion of the World, as of last Saturday's amazing win against the huuuge and ogre-like Nikolai Valuev?"

Ok, so it all happened a little quicker than that. I whipped out my notepad and pen and said "Excuse me? Can I please get your autograph?" He was really lovely. Really nice. I asked how his hand was and said I'd watched the fight, and he chatted away about how he'd done the same thing to his hand a few years ago too. And then we went our seperate ways.

I later pulled out the autograph to look at it, and had to laugh.


"To Ash. Stay sexy. David Haye x x x"


Awesome.

"So..." you're now asking yourselves, "...surely that's the only A-lister for one week's worth of celeb spots?" How wrong you are.

Whilst out on a run for work the following Friday I walked past HMV on Oxford St and saw a poster advertising Russell Brand's DVD signing that evening. So, naturally, I legged it round there after work and joined the ma-hussive queue of Russel-and-his-ball-bags fans. He did a half-hour Q&A sesh which was, of course, really bloody funny - at one point he plucked three-year-old Brendon out of the audience and - after being very cute with him - asked him if he thought the new DVD was any good, to which he replied "Mmmm." Russell said goodbye, passed him back to his parents and said to one of his guys, "That boy is not a good marketing ploy. Have him killed." In all it's inappropriateness, absolutely hilarious.

I finally got to meet him after queueing for an hour and a half. I passed him my DVD sleeve, said hello, and he said "Come in for a cuddle..." Awesome? Ya-huh. He said thanks for buying his DVD, I said thanks for signing it. And that was that. Short but very, very sweet.

And then. THEN. There was Cheryl. See earlier post named "Hey" for the deets. But there was eye contact. There was hand contact. There was a smile and a "Hey." Basically Ash = happy bunny.

Clearly with me being at The X Factor there were a few more spots, so here'y'are....

Simon Cowell, Dannii Minogue and Louis Walsh (obv.)
All 10 X Factor finalists.
Sinitta.
Brian Friedman (celeb? debatable)
Chico (again.... debatable)
Dermot O'Leary
Holly Willoughby
N Dubs (sat quite near them in the audience!)

"What? Not more A-listers, surely?"
Yup, 'fraid so....

Brian May & Roger Taylor (uuuuuber cool)
Mariah Carey

And that's yer lot.
Cheerio.

Executively Produced Tea.

The producer and executive producer of 'Travels With Bradshaw' for Talkback Thames were in today to view the offline edit for the show. The producer always enjoys a white Earl Grey, no sugar, when she's here and is currently on her third. The executive producer, a very serious-looking man who carries a clipboard and expensive pen and doesn't say very much, had a white English tea, no sugar.

It's the clients doing the offline editing here that have the more complicated stuff. Many a trip to Pret has been made for coffee.

Maybe that's a sign that coffee isn't my calling?

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In other news, for the first time last night I managed to catch one of the many programmes edited here at Halo on TV - Berlin on the BBC. Very cool to see three of my colleagues in the credits!

"Hey"

A bloody lucky friend of mine managed, after 3 years on the waiting list, to get tickets to the X Factor results show last sunday night, and the lovely lady invited me along. The tickets didn't guarantee us entry, but after nearly four very cold hours queueing outside we finally - whilst almost hyperventilating with excitement, I might add - were let into the studio.

For some strange reason, despite being in probably the last ten or twenty people let in, we managed to get amazing seats! We were sat on the front row of the blocks behind the judges and behind those smaller blocks in front of the stage. My friend, the ticket-finder, ended up in a faboulous seat by the stage... next to Sinita (who was Twittering all night and at one point turned to my friend and said "I love Dannii's hair." to which my friend replied, "No, I love Cheryl's dress...") and behind choreographer Brian Friedman (who, when Jedward got through, blurted out "Fucking Louis Walsh!") The studio is a lot smaller than it appears on TV but the whole thing was VERY cool. And who am I kidding, I was just excited to be that close to the judges - only about 20ft away; Yes. I was that close to Cheryl.

For those who by some wierd turn of events do not know how utterly obsessed I am with Cheryl Cole... well. I'll be brief. One day myself and Cheryl will be married. She just got the wrong Ashley the first time round (Yeah, it's that bad). More on that later... it gets more exciting.

Overall the show was definitely the best live show I've even been to. This week's guest - on the streamed show - was Shakira, but in fact her performance had been pre-recorded the week before. Instead we saw Mariah Carey pre-record her performance for next week, which was, of course, amazing! My favourite moment was when she was patiently waiting on stage for everything to be set up, and said, in a scarily accurate London accent: "I'll jus' wing it." That's not it. As you will know if you watched the show, the contestants performed their group performance of Bohemian Rhapsody live with Brian May and Roger Taylor from Queen. Sensational. Absolutely sensational. I'd seen Roger arrive earlier while we were in the queue, Brian May instead choosing to be driven onto the premises before leaving his car (a shame, because everyone was very excited to see him).

Jamie went, and rightly so (yes, yes, I know Jedward and Lloyd are both worse, but even so he was never going to win it - sorry Grandma). I screamed very loudly for Stacey and gave her a slightly cheesy thumbs-up when she passed by us later. I booed as loudly as I could at Jedward. Louis Walsh walked right past me before the sing-off and did some strange, fruity peace-sign dance, to which I pulled my best "Really? Really?!" face, and made sure he saw it. Fool.

Then.... THEN! In the first commercial break of The Xtra Factor, the judges, having always walked out to the right of their seats, this time exited to the left, directly in front of me. I seized my chance and held my hand out to Cheryl, who held it, smiled at me and said "Hey". Looking back I really wish I had said something. But in that moment, words failed me. I probably looked like a crazed fan, which admittedly I am.... but I could have at least added some credibility to it. But no, crazed fan was all that I could manage. And who cares? Cheryl Cole, the woman I love (yeah, yeah), held my hand and said "Hey."

Brilliant.

It Happens.

Sorry, seem to have missed a couple of letters off there.

Today I have made tea. Weak tea, strong "builder's" tea, Rooibos (Redbush) tea, milky tea. And coffee, both of the instant kind, and the cafatiere kind. I have made toast with butter, marmite, peanut butter and marmalade. I have provided biscuits, carefully placed on the plate in a delightful design. I have run to Starbucks, and Pret, for a variety of skinny-mocha-tall-grande-americano-latte types. I've grabbed soup from Eat, and dragged myself back from Sainsburys with far too many cartons of juice and 6 pints of milk.

And that's it. I have an hour left at work, and that's all I've done. "Tea girl" has never rung so true.

It got me to thinking, I probably make this whole thing sound fairly glamourous. Or if not glamourous then fun, exciting in a slightly glamourous way. And it is fun, it is exciting, but it's bloody hard work. I can't even tell you how hard. Ok so I'm not searching for a cure to some rare disease, and I'm not working the accounts of a multi-million pound business. But this job is hard. You work your arse off all day every day in the hope that one day it will get you somewhere. And it will, one day. You live for the clients that are friendly even in the mornings, and who will never bother you with too much than they really need to.

It's a bit shit, to be honest. It was always gonna be a bit shit. But I bloody love it. I love what I'm doing, not just because I get to be amongst the people working in the industry I want to be in, but also because one day this will get me to where I want to be, and when that happens I'll know I've grafted for it.

So no, it's not glamourous, not by most people's standards, but for me? For me it could be walking a catwalk in Paris, for me it's pretty fabulous.

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P.s..... Expect anytime soon a full update on the X Factor results show, plus a more in-depth Celeb Spots of the Week, as well as updates on the new pad that I'm moving into tonight! (Now that really is not glam!)

Oh Be-Jesus.

Never understood that phrase. Ah well.

Today I was introduced by my boss to the "Training Bible". This document - which I am quite impressed with - tells the runners everything they need to know and learn about everything done within our company. Basically a LOAD of technical jargon split in to chapters that do not yet, and I fear never will, make any sense at all.

It has an Old Testament and a New Testament. No joke. And it's probably big enough to rival the Bible too. All in all it was a pretty scary experience, discovering this thing for the first time with my boss peering over my shoulder, probably trying to gauge my reaction.

I'll let you know how I get on. After today's hellish shift following a busy week, I'm not exactly sure when I'll get the chance to do my...... worship.

"Other inspirational brand slogans are available..."

When I actually stop and take a second to think about my life for the past four months, I sometimes can't quite believe it. Ok, so it's hardly been the most extraordinary of experiences, but it's more the fact that it's me that's been doing these things that's hard to believe.

At 7am on 25th July I waved goodbye to my parents and set off on a 6 week trip to the USA and Canada. I spent two weeks in Texas, followed by a month in Toronto, interrupted by a 5 day trip to Boston, and then flew back to the UK in time to spend a week in Cyprus with Mum and Dad. Thank god for student loans is all I can say.

While I was in Cyprus I was offered unpaid work in London running on a kind of "pop up" TV channel at the On/Off TV area of London Fashion Week (see what we got up to here), followed by 'Dead Cat' (see earlier post). I left for London the morning after I flew back to the UK. And now I live here.

I dropped everything, knowing it could be the start of everything I wanted. I left behind my family who I am incredibly close to, my lovely little nephew who I'd been looking forward to spending time with the most, my Grandad who had just had a triple heart bypass four days earlier, as well as a few plans I'd made and spent a lot of money on (including a ticket to the L Word convention in Blackpool, the last time it will be there, with the chance to meet the stars, at £90).

So it was a pretty tough decision, and if I was ever in that position again I would choose in exactly the same way. If you have a passion for something, if you have dreams - nomatter how unrealistic you might think they are - you have to grab any opportunities you're faced with and do what I did... what I do..... just don't think about it. Just do it.

I didn't think too much into travelling alone for 6 weeks, or about taking two 14-hour bus rides between Toronto and Boston because it was half the price of a flight. And I had the time of my life.

I didn't let myself dwell on the fact that I was leaving everyone I was close to behind and I didn't think twice about putting absolutely everything I had into a great film with an amazing cast and crew for no money at all, or about going for a job in Soho after being in the industry for two months.

It worked. I'm so much better off for launching myself into the deep end of the real world that I'd only ever dipped a toe into before. And I'm still going - I'm moving into a box room in a house share with four guys who I've never met, whilst trying to figure out how to budget on very little. Very little. And I couldn't be happier.

Just don't think about it. Just do it. To revisit a slightly cheesy anecdote - which my friends will definitely rib me for! - on one of those 14-hour bus rides from Boston back to Toronto I met an old lady from County Durham who had lived in Canada for 40 years. We chatted about my plans (or lack thereof) to get into TV and film, and how torn I was between that and my family, and when we got off the bus she kissed me goodbye and said "Follow your dream."

I'll never forget that lady.