Golly

The last few weeks have been mentally hectic. And hectically mental too.

I haven't written a blog in aaaages. This is partly due to the mental hecticness but also due to my reluctance to draw a line under my post about Nana. The amount of thought I give to the trivial and random crap that occurs in day-to-day life doesn't even come slightly close, not even marginally near to the amount of time she spends occupying my mind. I want her to know that. So as I compromise I've given her a picture instead. Lovely.

And now, as a summary of the melee of stuff what's been happening, here is a list of things:

One. Directing a play is massively rewarding and fun and challenging and exhausting and exhilarating and I have been lavishing the exerience with so many superlatives that even my store of hyperbole is running low , heaven forbid. The cast and crew - what a wonderful group of people. There was not a single weak link in our chain of awesome-ness and kick-ass-ability. I think we did a bladdy good job. We pulled heaven down and rose up a whore fo' sho'.

Two. Being courteous apparently gets you nowhere in this day and age. Whilst attempting to parallel park in Southsea a few weeks ago I was suddenly overcome by the steep camber and my driving-related ineptness. I scratched the car in front. It was a paint scratch - noticeable but hardly anything to write home about. I thought I'd be a good Samaritan and leave a note for the owner. To be honest I was expecting the owner to acknowledge the note and appreciate the gesture, then shrug it off as 'one of those things' (as I'm sure I would have done if faced with such inconsequential damage). However, to cut a long story shot: a miserable old fart, the complications of leasing and several ridiculous phone calls later and I find myself with a bill for two hundred pounds. Brilliant.

Three. The general public can be despicable. Are my customers growing more ignorant, snobby, rude and patronising by the second? Or am I just becoming less tolerant? Who knows. And the worst thing about is that these people make up such a small minority of the people I serve but sadly it's these people that stick in my mind. Focusing on the positive; the smiley, polite, friendly people is easy. Right up until you're hit full in the face with a corker like "Quite frankly I'm bewildered. I came here expecting to find someone bright enough to help me with my simple inquiry. You've proven me wrong." And don't even get me started on the 'poo in the fitting room' fiasco. That's right. An actual human poo. Left by a smug little prepubescent shitbag who did it for a laugh. Hilarious.

Four. Dancing makes everything better. If you feel a bit crappy in the morining then here's a simple cure: nip downstairs, have a nice cuppa and some sugary cereal and then have a body-popping sesh in your kitchen with Usher and Will-I-am as your right hand men. Works for me anyhows.

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