My liver is still aching from my 2 weeks at the Edinburgh International Film Festival but it was soooooo worth it!
I'm about to embark on 3 weeks of doing it all again but this time for theatre with the Edinburgh Fringe about to kick off in a couple of weeks. My poor wee body!
Sorry this is so short, but I can't really be arsed with blogging today!
Friday 19 June 2009
Tuesday 16 June 2009
Slippery Nipples
Fags = none
Cakes = none
Coffee = half a jar
Irn Bru = 1 x 2 litre bottle
Sex = erm.......
Bruises = 6 new ones
Biscuits = half a digestive (the other half fell in the bath)
Throat = sore
Heid = nipping
After an evening of Equity meetings and slippery nipples, the morning was a little bit hazy...especially after having a Hula Hoop fight with a mate til stupid o'clock! I kicked my own arse into gear and after sweating in the bath and dropping half my breakfast (digestive biscuit) into the water I got started with my day.
Got the Equity drinks reception at the EIFF almost sorted, got my t-shirts designed and ordered for ActorExpo, chased up my invoices, set up a tonnage of meetings and worked out what scenes are missing from the zombie film I'm making with the 11 year olds. I also sent the shirt back to the man who left it on my living room floor on Saturday night and found out who had stolen the stork out of the car park (refer to earlier post 'Carnage' for this to make sense)!
Lunchtime - what a let down. Feck all food in the flat. I'm living like a hobo. No food other than a few mouldy Jacobs creams and a jar of crunchy peanut butter. I stand, Bridget Jones style, watching all the couples go by the window and eat the PB straight out of the jar, I'm also drinking the orange juice straight from the carton and the beans straight from the tin. I really think I'm turning ferrel. You know what though? I quite like it. I am my own boss, I answer to no-one and I can do what the hell I like. Did I mention I used to be married...? That's a whole other blog...
Well, I'm off to scream down the phone at Candace cos she is supposed to be bringing me food - I can't possibly have another Pot Noodle today, can I?
Laters...
Cakes = none
Coffee = half a jar
Irn Bru = 1 x 2 litre bottle
Sex = erm.......
Bruises = 6 new ones
Biscuits = half a digestive (the other half fell in the bath)
Throat = sore
Heid = nipping
After an evening of Equity meetings and slippery nipples, the morning was a little bit hazy...especially after having a Hula Hoop fight with a mate til stupid o'clock! I kicked my own arse into gear and after sweating in the bath and dropping half my breakfast (digestive biscuit) into the water I got started with my day.
Got the Equity drinks reception at the EIFF almost sorted, got my t-shirts designed and ordered for ActorExpo, chased up my invoices, set up a tonnage of meetings and worked out what scenes are missing from the zombie film I'm making with the 11 year olds. I also sent the shirt back to the man who left it on my living room floor on Saturday night and found out who had stolen the stork out of the car park (refer to earlier post 'Carnage' for this to make sense)!
Lunchtime - what a let down. Feck all food in the flat. I'm living like a hobo. No food other than a few mouldy Jacobs creams and a jar of crunchy peanut butter. I stand, Bridget Jones style, watching all the couples go by the window and eat the PB straight out of the jar, I'm also drinking the orange juice straight from the carton and the beans straight from the tin. I really think I'm turning ferrel. You know what though? I quite like it. I am my own boss, I answer to no-one and I can do what the hell I like. Did I mention I used to be married...? That's a whole other blog...
Well, I'm off to scream down the phone at Candace cos she is supposed to be bringing me food - I can't possibly have another Pot Noodle today, can I?
Laters...
Monday 15 June 2009
Baby Poo
A while ago, my good friend asked me if I would child-mind her 13 month old every 2nd Monday. 'Yes of course' said I. 'How hard can it be?'
For the love of Jehovah...
Projectile baby diarrhoeaa, clothes covered (his and mine)...yummy mummy my arse. Slummy mummy is more accurate!
He had a nap, woke up, I took off his nappy, cleaned him up turned to get a new nappy and wham, pee everywhere.
Cleaned him up again.
15 mins later, I heard a sound that made me think a thunder storm was imminent, but no, the wee man had farted. What a stench. Another nappy check revealed some sort of explosion had happened. I took him to the nappy change area but had left the wipes in the living room. PANIC. The nappy was already off but I had nothing to clean with.
Note to everyone, babies don't understand 'stay there, don't move!'
I sprinted to the living room for the wipes hoping against hope that he had stayed put....no chance.
In the 4 seconds I had been gone, he crawled round the spare room and got poo everywhere. How is that even possible?
Lunchtime. Holy Jesus, what a fecking mess. Spag Bol and yoghurt! All was going well until the 4th mouthful and he sneezed it all over me.
So here I am; a soon to be divorced 35 year old woman who runs her own business and networks with the rich and famous and can hold her own in almost every situation but is now frazzled at the edges and stinking of pish and poo, covered in spag bol, in a flat that is a tip, too scared to go and make coffee in case the wee one finds my supply of bathroom cleaning products and feasts on them in the 3 seconds I'm not watching him!
God knows how I will get us both organised to make my press meeting at the Film Festival without looking like some sort of stained scrubber!
The things you do for your mates...
(to be fair, he is a lovely wee fecker so it's not all bad)!
For the love of Jehovah...
Projectile baby diarrhoeaa, clothes covered (his and mine)...yummy mummy my arse. Slummy mummy is more accurate!
He had a nap, woke up, I took off his nappy, cleaned him up turned to get a new nappy and wham, pee everywhere.
Cleaned him up again.
15 mins later, I heard a sound that made me think a thunder storm was imminent, but no, the wee man had farted. What a stench. Another nappy check revealed some sort of explosion had happened. I took him to the nappy change area but had left the wipes in the living room. PANIC. The nappy was already off but I had nothing to clean with.
Note to everyone, babies don't understand 'stay there, don't move!'
I sprinted to the living room for the wipes hoping against hope that he had stayed put....no chance.
In the 4 seconds I had been gone, he crawled round the spare room and got poo everywhere. How is that even possible?
Lunchtime. Holy Jesus, what a fecking mess. Spag Bol and yoghurt! All was going well until the 4th mouthful and he sneezed it all over me.
So here I am; a soon to be divorced 35 year old woman who runs her own business and networks with the rich and famous and can hold her own in almost every situation but is now frazzled at the edges and stinking of pish and poo, covered in spag bol, in a flat that is a tip, too scared to go and make coffee in case the wee one finds my supply of bathroom cleaning products and feasts on them in the 3 seconds I'm not watching him!
God knows how I will get us both organised to make my press meeting at the Film Festival without looking like some sort of stained scrubber!
The things you do for your mates...
(to be fair, he is a lovely wee fecker so it's not all bad)!
Sunday 14 June 2009
Carnage
So, I went to see my mate in a play last night (Sat). I went by myself and was planning the following:
See play
Have 1 beer to say 'well done' at the end
Come home for an early night and do my fake tan
Here is what actually happened:
Saw play
Had beers with lots of gay men and handed business cards out like confetti
Got invited to The List Festival Opening Party
Had more beers and moved to another pub in Leith with the play crew
Had more beers and then went to Sneaky Petes to dance to rave music (yes, you did read that right!)
Had more beers
Did dodgy dad dancing with Eddie, my new pal, whilst the boys watched on in despair at a 45 and 35 year old bouncing about like twats!
Left Sneaky Petes at 3am and decided to continue the 'after show' party at my flat
Walked and Rik-shawed home
Chapped Kirsty up to see if she wanted to come to the party (sorry Kirk)
Had more beers
Played charades (very badly)
Laughed a lot
Watched the boys throw the stork out of the living room window at 5am...
Went to bed at 7am
Got up at 12
Spent the rest of the day going 'uuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrr' whilst cleaning and getting rid of empty bottles
Watched The Goonies and Saw 3
I am now going to bed cos I've an 13 month old bloke round for the day tomorrow...have to be a responsible adult for a whole 12 hours! Wish me luck!
Holy crap, what a night!
See play
Have 1 beer to say 'well done' at the end
Come home for an early night and do my fake tan
Here is what actually happened:
Saw play
Had beers with lots of gay men and handed business cards out like confetti
Got invited to The List Festival Opening Party
Had more beers and moved to another pub in Leith with the play crew
Had more beers and then went to Sneaky Petes to dance to rave music (yes, you did read that right!)
Had more beers
Did dodgy dad dancing with Eddie, my new pal, whilst the boys watched on in despair at a 45 and 35 year old bouncing about like twats!
Left Sneaky Petes at 3am and decided to continue the 'after show' party at my flat
Walked and Rik-shawed home
Chapped Kirsty up to see if she wanted to come to the party (sorry Kirk)
Had more beers
Played charades (very badly)
Laughed a lot
Watched the boys throw the stork out of the living room window at 5am...
Went to bed at 7am
Got up at 12
Spent the rest of the day going 'uuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrrrrr' whilst cleaning and getting rid of empty bottles
Watched The Goonies and Saw 3
I am now going to bed cos I've an 13 month old bloke round for the day tomorrow...have to be a responsible adult for a whole 12 hours! Wish me luck!
Holy crap, what a night!
Saturday 13 June 2009
First Proper Post
Okay, so this is my first actual post. Here we go:
Fags = none
Cakes = 1 cream donut
Coffee = half a jar
Sex = none, but it is only 6pm so give me time
Tonight I am heading out to see my mate in his new play 'A Cock & Bull Story' - anything with Cock in the title is alright as far as I'm concerned but other than that, bugger all is happening today.
Have just had a bath, into which I dropped a little piece of the aforementioned donut by accident, and did a face pack, which has left me a little bit blotchy. I may have to put a bag over my head before heading to the play. But wait...it's on in Leith...so even with a blotchy face and a donut filled spare tire, I'm still likely to pull.
Will keep you posted on my outing in tomorrows exciting installment...
Fags = none
Cakes = 1 cream donut
Coffee = half a jar
Sex = none, but it is only 6pm so give me time
Tonight I am heading out to see my mate in his new play 'A Cock & Bull Story' - anything with Cock in the title is alright as far as I'm concerned but other than that, bugger all is happening today.
Have just had a bath, into which I dropped a little piece of the aforementioned donut by accident, and did a face pack, which has left me a little bit blotchy. I may have to put a bag over my head before heading to the play. But wait...it's on in Leith...so even with a blotchy face and a donut filled spare tire, I'm still likely to pull.
Will keep you posted on my outing in tomorrows exciting installment...
What Am I Doing?
Well, apparently I'm addicted to Facebook so thought I might as well try something else too...this is my first blog post ever in my life so apologies in advance for the fact that it's shit...more to follow once I have a clue!
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