Yo ho ho and a bottle of arse

So here is the story of my trip to see Dead Man's Chest. I mentioned earlier how it was a balls up from start to finish. And so it was. I hope you're sitting comfortably, because I'm about to begin.

Ok, so in the UK there's this thing called Orange Wednesdays. If your cell phone is on the Orange network, on a Wednesday you text them and they send you a text back that gets you two cinema tickets for the price of one. My housemate and I decided to go see Dead Man's Chest at the 3:30pm showing. We left the house at 2:40pm, I sent the text as we left. And the response never came. We got on the bus to the cinema. It's not air conditioned so it's about 120 degrees on the bus. And it's full of school children. Packed with them. They're so loud! It's like being trapped in a tumble drier with hyenas. The bus then hits every single red light between our flat and the centre of town. We get off and walk through the Lanes to cool off and escape the school children. We debate whether to get Banana Caramel Frappuccinos or ice cream at the cinema. We opt for ice cream. Should have known better.

We get to the cinema with what we thought was enough time to get the tickets and get ice cream. There is one person serving and a line right out the door. We finally make it into the cinema as the last trailer is finishing. One of my most favorite things about going to the cinema is watching the trailers. So now I'm pissed. The cinema is busy, there's a high percentage of irritating and loud people here. One girl, far too near to me for her own safety, is having an argument with her mother on her cell phone as her mother wants to pick her up before the film will finish. I fight the urge to lean over and say "I really think it's best if you just leave now". Having missed the trailers, there's then a 10 minute delay before the film starts for no apparent reason, other than to annoy me I think. It's during this 10 minutes when I notice that it's way too warm in the auditorium. Yup. I'm about to sit through a 150 minute movie in a non air conditioned movie theatre. Sweet mother of God.

So you can see how I wouldn't have been in the best frame of mind to be visually assaulted by the monstrosity that was Dead Man's Chest. Part of the problem is that I came very late to the Pirates Of The Caribbean table first time around. I had no overwhelming desire to see it, not being a fan of Keira Knightley or Orlando Bloom. But everyone I knew who saw it raved about how fabulous it was. So towards the end of its cinema run in 2003, I finally caved in and saw it. And, Johnny Depp aside, was bored out of my mind by it. So I don't really know why I bothered taking in the sequel. I knew I wouldn't enjoy it. But there's always a chance I might, ya know? Anyway, I never dreamed it would be quite as shockingly inept and deathly boring as it was.

It was as if they sat around after the first one took the world by storm and said "well now we have to make a sequel or two. What went right this time? it seems they liked that rum joke. And everyone's loving Johnny Depp's performance. And our special effects are killer" and that was as creative as they got. As someone who didn't find the rum joke funny first time around, I didn't need it repeated endlessly throughout the sequel. The special effects were amazing, yes, but I'd trade them in for some decent direction and a halfway coherent story. Instead they cobbled together some bollocks about Davy Jones and hoped for the best.

In addition to the main nonsensical and unclear plot about Davy Jones and the eponyomous chest, they foolishly try and fashion a love quadrangle (or pentangle, depending on what they were going for with Tom Hollander's brief appearance). Now, that would be fine if it were someone remotely attractive causing said quadrangle. However, having one man lusting after that scrawny bitch Keira Knightley is stretching it pretty far, that there could be three (or four) is plain insanity. Every time I looked at her I just thought "Jesus Christ, eat something! How are you holding a sword? Hell, how are you even standing up?" and apparently her calorie intake is linked to her acting ability because she has never been more wooden than she was here. Orlando Bloom just can't act, never has been able to. He has an air of 40's matinee idol about him but alas he's got all the talent of Keanu Reeves. The real surprise here is Depp, turning in an ugly and lazy performance, a smudged photocopy of his first crack at Jack.

The script has precisely two lines that might raise a laugh. However, both of those are in the trailer and therefore they aren't funny in the movie because you've heard them before like 800 times. The rest is trying far far too hard and goes for icky ICKY slapstick to raise a laugh rather than sharp one liners. A film that could have been shorn of several supporting players and at LEAST 45 minutes, it's so in love with itself and thinks it's so much fun, but that sense of fun never reaches the audience and in the end this bloated monstrosity just sits there like an unflushable turd.

I'm off now to a press screening of the Almodovar movie, Volver. I'll write about that, the rest of my week, London and Superman Returns later on.

I have a Confession.....

I caved in on Tuesday. I was looking at Ticketmaster's website and they still had some tickets at top price for Madonna's performance at Wembley on August 16th. So I bought myself one. See, one of the good things about working at American Express is they give any employee a credit card. So I applied for a RED card so I can buy things I can't afford and feel good about myself while I'm doing it. And I just couldn't let this tour pass me by. Not after Re-Invention blew my mind a couple of years ago.

Time flies.....

Even when you're not having fun, apparently. Today marks one year since I hopped on a plane to New York to begin my three month life changing job search. Ok so far it hasn't really managed to change it for the better, but I'm working on it. I have had loads of trouble sleeping this past week and been inexplicably down in the dumps. Now I know why. One whole year.

Anyway, still to be blogged about this week is my epic hellish journey to see Dead Man's Shit. It's quite a tale, from door to door the whole event was one big pile of suck. I don't have time to do it justice right now, but expect a fuller entry about it soon.

Tomorrow I am heading up to London as my ex-boss at the theatre who was a diamond with writing references and working his contacts during and after my job hunt Stateside is leaving and moving back to Scotland. So we're going to have a goodbye lunch. Before I see him, I am going to see Superman Returns in 3-D Imax. I WILL believe a man can fly. The rapidly diminishing US box office is proof positive that there's no accounting for taste and is making me sad, but I cannot wait for the movie.

I LOVE What I'm Wearing

Some people who read my blog might be aware that I have a deep seated love for those fabulous bitches on Go Fug Yourself. So much so that I bought myself a "I HATE What You're Wearing" T-shirt from them and I wear it a lot. I was wearing it today and strolling home through Brighton when I was stopped by a photographer who is doing an exhibition of people wearing unusual t-shirts. So I am going to be exhibited. Fancy.

Random shit

I haven't blogged that much lately, I guess I haven't had a huge amount to say. I also don't really have the energy to write a coherent entry that's actually, you know, ABOUT something.


I am steadily losing weight. I have dropped 14lbs so far, weigh day is tomorrow but I haven't been overly strict this week so I don't expect to have lost much, if any. But I am still pleased that the weight is coming off, slowly but surely.

Superman Returns got the best reviews of the summer flicks so far (it's tracking 72 on metacritic) yet its box office has not lived up to expectations. Which makes me sad, especially as the negative buzz regarding Bryan Singer making the movie "too gay" was put forward as a possible reason. It's expected to sink in the face of Dead Man's Chest tomorrow too, but I'm hoping it doesn't. I feel I may hope in vain. It's annoying because I hate I hate I hate Curse Of The Black Pearl. Sigh.

I love Grey's Anatomy

But am I the only person who thinks it should be renamed The Miranda Bailey Show?



Not only do I love her character but Chandra Wilson's fierce performance far outshines Ellen Pompeo's. Meredith Grey is not a particularly interesting character and she comes across as whiny and vapid thanks to Pompeo's lack of skill. Were it not for the stellar supporting cast surrounding her, I would have stopped watching a while ago.

But now I have no choice but to stop watching. See, here in the UK where I am still stuck against my will, the show is on Channel 5 and they have decided to stop showing it 5 episodes into season 2. I emailed them to find out why they had done this and the response was this:

"We are not ceasing to transmit this programme 5 episodes into Series 2. In actual fact, we are currently transmitting episodes from Series 1 and the final episode from this series has been scheduled for broadcast at 22:00 on 6th July.

Series 1 of Grey’s Anatomy contains 14 episodes. The confusion may have arisen as the US broadcaster chose to end Series 1 after Episode 9 and continue with the remaining 5 episodes at a later date. We chose not to do this and will be transmitting all 14 episodes without a break.

We do have the rights to Series 2 which contains a total of 22 episodes; however, our rights commence in March 2007 and we will only be able to transmit this series after this date."

So obviously I had to respond to that with the following:

"Well the DVD box set for Season 1 of Grey's Anatomy in
both the US and the UK only contain 9 episodes. The
listings on imdb and on the official website for
Grey's Anatomy list Season 1 as being 9 episodes and
season 2 being 27 episodes, with the episode scheduled
to air on Channel 5 on 6th July as the fifth episode
of the season. There is evidently some confusion here,
but I don't think it is mine. "

I don't expect a response to that one, oddly enough. My housemate and I are now downloading the remaining episodes from Season 2.

It makes more sense that my second choice was Catwoman, but

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All favorites of mine, you know them all well

So a little more as to why I am so excited about the box set from Tori Amos coming out soon:

We'll start with the packaging. It's deluxe! It resembles a piano! I am a marketer's dream, a fanboy geek and I'm a sucker for fancy schmancy packaging. If you're going to do a box set, you have to make it pretty.

Then there's the track listing. All those alternate versions from Little Earthquakes! Four of them! And the previously unreleased unedited version of Crucify. I am oddly not a fan of the single version that was made more radio friendly and edited in the most bizarre place (the lyric of "please save me, I cry" is truncated to the point of stupidity).

Under The Pink has its fair share of alternate versions too, including probably her finest moment, Yes, Anastasia. I'm sort of glad that Boys For Pele is getting the short shrift as it's my least favourite of her albums. The few songs that are included are my favorites off the album, so that works out. Then she's included the live version of Professional Widow that's titled The Merry Widow Version which is terrifying and brilliant in equal measure.

Disc 3 makes me a little cross, because there's the hateful horrible dance remix of Professional Widow, a remixed version of Bliss and Doughnut Song (two of her best songs) and the live version of Waitress from To Venus & Back which is far too long and way overdone (the other live version from the Past The Mission EP would have been much more welcome).

On Disc 4 there are remixed versions of two of my favorite From The Choirgirl Hotel which again makes me nervous, especially as Playboy Mommy really doesn't need ANY remixing. The final "eh" inclusion comes on the final disc with the remastered and utterly ruined version of Mary from the Tales Of A Librarian compilation from 2003.

But, oh the new songs! Zero Point is finally seeing the light of day! Fans have known of its existence since a liner note in 1999 on To Venus & Back noted that "your time is coming". I was beginning to wonder if it hadn't morphed into another song, like Just Another Dead Fag became Taxi Ride and I'm fairly certain that Freshly Mown Grass became Parasol. And all those demos! And the B-sides! It's all too too much for a geek boy fan. I own every CD single Tori Amos has ever released (even the one she didn't from Strange Little Girls, an album which is noticeable by its absence here) so I am just beside myself that there is a TON of stuff here I have never heard before. If there's full color booklets and picture CDs with it, well I'll be in geek heaven.

Bring it on.

Yes PCB, There IS A Santa Claus

As my blog title would suggest, I am a Tori Amos fan. So you can imagine how beside myself I am to discover this:

A PIANO: THE COLLECTION, will be a five-disc, career-spanning box set consisting of classics, rarities, demos, B-sides and unreleased tracks. And yes, indeed, very exciting news for Toriphiles … Tori will finally introduce us to five very special songs: “Not David Bowie,” “Zero Point,” “Peeping Tommi,” “Ode To My Clothes” and “Dolphin Song.”

Presented in deluxe packaging that resembles a piano’s keyboard, this set will be released by Rhino Records on September 26, 2006, at will be available at regular retail outlets and at the Rhino Records website for a suggested price of $74.98.

Produced by Tori, the career-spanning collection highlights selections from her studio albums as well as b-sides and songs that debuted on Tales of a Librarian. Featuring numerous unreleased songs, the box set contains a total of 86 tracks that combine well-known studio versions with rare alternative mixes, including several songs Tori remixed for this project. A PIANO: THE COLLECTION also offers a revealing and extensive track-by-track commentary penned by Tori, who discusses the inspiration behind the songs and albums and explains why they were chosen for this box set.

The compilation’s first disc includes an extended version of Tori’s 1992 debut, Little Earthquakes. The classic album has been augmented not only with a different song sequence and alternate mixes but it also features it’s four original b-sides “Upside Down,” “Take To The Sky (Russia),” “Sweet Dreams” and an alternate mix of “Flying Dutchman,” as well as the previously unreleased, unedited single version of “Crucify.”

Spotlighting music recorded between 1994 and 1996, the second disc includes songs from Under the Pink and Boys for Pele. The 18 tracks blend original and remixed versions of albums cuts with the b-side “Honey” and “Professional Widow” performed live. Also included is “Take Me With You,” an unreleased song intended for Little Earthquakes. “At the time I just couldn’t finish it,” Tori writes in the liner notes. “When we found it, there were no lyrics to speak of, just music. So you’ll have something partly recorded in 1990 but with a vocal recorded in 2006…”

The third disc also includes songs associated with Boys for Pele plus 1999’s To Venus and Back and Tales of a Librarian: A Tori Amos Collection. The 15 songs feature original and remixed versions of album tracks as well as “Hey Jupiter” (Dakota Version) and “Professional Widow” (Armand’s Star Trunk Funkin’ Mix). Also featured is “Walk To Dublin (Sucker Reprise),” an unreleased track from the Pele sessions.

From the Choirgirl Hotel (1998), Scarlet’s Walk (2002) and The Beekeeper (2005) are the focus of the fourth disc, which contains 15 songs including original and remixed versions of album tracks. Also featured is the unheard intro for “Marys Of The Sea” from The Beekeeper as well as four previously unreleased songs “Not David Bowie,” “Zero Point,” “Ode To My Clothes” and “Dolphin Song.” In the liner notes, Tori writes: “Some songs seem to have a timeline for when they want to be finished and put out to the world. At the time when we were working on ‘Dolphin Song,’ I had all kinds of ideas for her development after the basic tracking had been done. Instead she got set aside for a while. But once we started to go through the tape library we put ‘Dolphin’ up on the faders again, and I realized we didn’t need to record anything else; it was finished.”

The final disc features 22 tracks spotlighting Tori’s impressive list of renowned b-sides and includes the exclusive digital release “Merman” from 1999. For what could be the most intriguing addition to the collection, Tori invites listeners into her artistic process with a medley of demos for the songs, “Fire-Eater’s Wife/Beauty Queen,” “Playboy Mommy” and “A Sorta Fairytale.” Amos explains in the liner notes: “I’m usually pretty reticent to expose the musical development process…The demo medley was a choice I made so that other songwriters can feel an affinity with the idea that songwriters have to push themselves and not just accept the first incarnation that you are presented with. Each of these three songs are presented here in their completed form somewhere within the box set so you can see conception to development.”

The track listing for A PIANO: THE COLLECTION is as follows:

* = previously unreleased
Disc 1
1. “Leather” (Alternate Mix)
2. “Precious Things” (Alternate Mix)
3. “Silent All These Years”
4. “Upside Down”
5. “Crucify” (Unedited Single Version)*
6. “Happy Phantom”
7. “Me And A Gun”
8. “Flying Dutchman” (Alternate Mix)
9. “Girl”
10. “Winter”
11. “Take To The Sky (Russia)”
12. “Tear In Your Hand”
13. “China”
14. “Sweet Dreams”
15. “Mother” (Alternate Mix)
16. “Little Earthquakes”

Disc 2
1. “Cornflake Girl”
2. “Honey”
3. “Take Me With You”*
4. “Baker Baker” (Alternate Mix)
5. “The Waitress” (Alternate Mix)
6. “Pretty Good Year”
7. “God”
8. “Cloud On My Tongue”
9. “Past The Mission” (Alternate Mix)
10. “Bells For Her”
11. “Yes, Anastasia” (Alternate Mix)
12. “Blood Roses”
13. “Mr. Zebra”
14. “Caught A Lite Sneeze” (Alternate Mix)
15. “Professional Widow” (Merry Widow Version – Live)
16. “Beauty Queen/Horses”
17. “Father Lucifer”
18. “Marianne”

Disc 3
1. “Walk To Dublin” (Sucker Reprise)*
2. “Hey Jupiter” (Dakota Version)
3. “Professional Widow” (Armand’s Star Trunk Funkin’ Mix)
4. “Putting The Damage On”
5. “Bliss” (Remixed Version)
6. “Suede”
7. “Glory Of The 80’s”
8. “1000 Oceans”
9. “Concertina” (Single Remix Version)
10. “Lust”
11. “Datura”
12. “Sugar” (Live from sound check)
13. “The Waitress” (Live)
14. “Snow Cherries From France”
15. “Doughnut Song” (Remixed Version)

Disc 4
1. “A Sorta Fairytale”
2. “Not David Bowie”*
3. “Amber Waves”
4. “Iieee” (Remixed Version)
5. “Playboy Mommy” (Remixed Version)
6. “The Beekeeper”
7. “Jackie’s Strength”
8. “Zero Point”*
9. “Sweet The Sting”
10. “Ode To My Clothes”*
11. “Spark”
12. “Intro Jam”* and “Marys Of The Sea”
13. “Cruel” (Remixed Version)
14. “Dolphin Song”*
15. “Gold Dust”

Disc 5
1. “The Pool”
2. “Never Seen Blue”
3. “Daisy Dead Petals”
4. “Beulah Land”
5. “Sugar”
6. “Cooling”
7. “Bachelorette”
8. “Black Swan”
9. “Mary” (Tales Version)
10. “Peeping Tommi”*
11. “Toodles Mr. Jim”
Demo Medley:
12. “Fire-Eater’s Wife/Beauty Queen” (Demo)*
13. “Playboy Mommy” (Demo)*
14. “A Sorta Fairytale” (Demo)*
15. “This Old Man”
16. “Purple People”
17. “Here. In My Head”
18. “Hungarian Wedding Song”
19. “Merman”
20. “Sister Janet”
21. “Home On The Range” (Cherokee Edition)
22. “Frog On My Toe”

Hard Candy

I realise I haven't posted in a while but you know, I haven't really had anything overly interesting to say since the visa fiasco. But on Wednesday I went to see Hard Candy and it would be remiss of me not to talk about what is easily the best film I have seen this year.

While the most uncomfortable cinematic viewing experience will always and forever be Spanking The Monkey, Hard Candy comes in a very close second. I knew the general gist of the film (teenager turns tables on suspected pedo), but I was not adequately prepared for just how intense, harsh and unforgiving it was going to be. Ellen Page was quite incredible as the teen. She struggled a little in the initial transition from cutesy to raging psychopath but once she hit her stride, there was no stopping her. Patrick Wilson made everyone forget he was in Phantom Of The Opera with his performance here, though he did remind us all that he was in Angels In America. He made his character, a possible pedo and murderer to boot, sympathetic and made you root for him, which is no easy task. The ending resolutely refuses to give any easy answers or explanations, preferring to leave its audience shaken. It's been a LONG time since a film was brave enough to do that. And I say brava.

In other news, the early reviews for Superman Returns have been the universal raves I was both hoping for and expecting. Hopefully when next Wednesday rolls around, the film starts smashing all the opening day records it possibly can and goes on to be the best reviewed AND most successful film of 2006. That would make me very happy.

As for the H-1 visa situation, there is still no firm word on when the Immigration bill is going to be read so at the moment I am just having to wait it out. I did some research and discovered that every other requested increase to the quota has been turned down so I am not that hopeful. I have formulated a good plan B though, which if you look at it from the right angles, the B could sort of stand for Blackmail. I'll reveal all when I have to, but not before........

H-1, PCB 0.

The quota for this year's H-1 filled up in record time. Before I got one. Awesome. As part of the immigration bill that's about to be read, debated and hopefully passed, the H-1 quota will increase by 50,000 with immediate effect. Companies like Microsoft are threatening that they will relocate entirely overseas if this doesn't happen. As the US economy is in the toilet, I would imagine that kind of pressure has a lot of sway right now. But I can't count on that, so I'm not. If it happens, great. In the meantime however, it's time for Plan B. If only I knew what the fuck Plan B was.

Suck on THAT, Ratner!

I'm being very smug today. Why? X Men: The Last Stand, fresh from shattering box office records LAST week has now suffered the second biggest second weekend drop off ever, beaten only by Ang Lee's Hulk, and the margin is a mere 3 and bit per cent. That'll teach them. Perhaps now Fox will realise just what they gave up in driving Bryan Singer, the jewel in the X crown, away to direct Superman Returns.

United 93

I went back and forth and back and forth over whether I could see this movie. Is it too soon? Is it right? Will I cope? And so on and so on. In the end I realised that I had to see it for many reasons, not least the fact that nobody seems to have a bad word to say about it.

The film has been made with the utmost care and sensitivity and with the approval and co-operation of the relatives of those on board the flight and those on the ground who watched it all unfold, helplessly aghast. It takes place in real time and is filmed with an immediacy that makes the viewing experience unbearably uncomfortable and entirely gripping all at the same time. What is such an acheivement about this film is that you are left with no doubt that this film is a very important work, a story that needed to be told and immortalised for hundreds of reasons, but it doesn't once batter you about the head shouting "LOOK! WE'RE TELLING AN IMPORTANT STORY!" (something I fear will not be said of Oliver Stone's upcoming World Trade Centre). What's more, without any emotional manipulation or blatant heart string tugging, it reduced me to floods of tears for the last 10-15 minutes and I had trouble recovering myself and stopping the tears while the credits rolled. An absolutely astonishing film, a tricky proposition that paid off and is a fitting tribute to the people who were involved.

Just to give you all an idea.....

of the insanity I live with and deal with on a daily basis, here is a text message I received from my housemate earlier today:

"Things I have learnt today: Don't boil an egg in the kettle if it is cracked, it will foam out of control and go everywhere. Don't then pour a bit of water out, think "it'll be fine now" then re-boil it to finish the egg, as it will foam out of control and go everywhere again and totally egg the kettle.Don't try and sort kettle post egg by boiling up 4 fizzy vitamin C tablets, thinking "this will sort egg and limescale" and when that goes inevitably disaterously wrong, don't try and fix it by boiling kettle with washing up liquid in it"

Words truly fail me.

The Story Of Craig

So yes, the story of Craig. He and I met about 6 years ago now when I was in the box office at the Prince Edward Theatre and he was working as an usher. Now, at the Edward, the global megahit Mamma Mia! was playing and at this point was the only production of it worldwide. Consequently, if the performance was on, people would be coming in to buy tickets right up until the curtain came down at 10:15pm, but of course the box office closes at 8pm. So on a rota basis, two members of front of house staff were in the foyer to deal with over zealous ABBA fans at all times. I had seen Craig around but not spoken to him. Why, I hear you ask. Because he is drop dead beautiful. Like Colin Farrell only prettier, he makes my heart beat faster every time I look at him. We also have to sign in and out of the theatre in case of fire and there used to be a member of box office staff named Stephanie. She was, to say the very least, an odd girl and when she left there was a gap between the signing in sheets being updated so for weeks, her name remained there as a grim reminder of her. Trust me, it’s all connected. So one evening, I am signing out to go home and Craig is on foyer duty. Someone had written “dead” next to Stephanie’s name. I burst out laughing when I saw this and Craig asked me what was so funny. I pointed to it and he laughed too and then said “but I tell you who is dead though. Stephanie Lawrence”.

For those of you who aren’t aware of Ms Lawrence, she was a well known musical theatre star in the UK, with an equally well known alcohol problem. She had taken over as Eva in Evita/ and also taken over from Elaine Paige in Cats. Sidebar: the company manager of Mamma Mia! was also the company manager of Cats when Lawrence was in it, and he had the task of firing her when one night after performing Memory, Ms Lawrence begins climbing the stairway to heaven and, pissed as a fart, falls down said stairs. But I digress. At the time of her death, Ms Lawrence was not that old and was performing in Blood Brothers as Mrs Johnstone, just across the street from us. So I, of course clutched my pearls and exclaimed “no!” before proceeding to recount the sad end to her Grizabella to Craig. Half an hour later, we’re still chatting and we have just clicked. Instant rapport and friendship. Only of course, I want to wear his thighs as earmuffs too. Our friendship goes from strength to strength and we become very close, telling each other about fears and insecurities as well as bitchy gossip and drama. One night, rather drunkenly, I tell him I am in love with him. It is still to this date the most heartbreaking and yet the sweetest rebuff I have ever had. After a suitable interval, we discuss it all and clear the air and our friendship continues stronger than ever.

So far, so “every gay boy has been there”. But then one night Craig and his housemates (all of whom work front of house at the theatre and all of whom by this point also work for me in the phone room part time) throw a party after work on a Saturday. And I am invited. Also invited is Alex from the theatre, the cheeky but lovable, horsehung scamp who (possibly) unwittingly brought about that evening’s downfall. See, Alex baked some has brownies. He claims only hash was in them. Some other people, after they come to again, don’t quite believe them. I don’t partake of the hash cakes, preferring to drink instead. My buzz is rudely interrupted as a few people who HAVE eaten a hash cake start to feel a bit ill. And then they start hallucinating. And then they start throwing up. I’ll give you three guesses who the worst affected was. Yup, Craig. He is in his bedroom, I stick my head around the door to see how he is. He thinks he’s a German soldier marching off to war. Not good. Then he starts throwing up. I sit with him and hold the bin while he pukes. He asks me to rub his back. I do. Then his whole body starts to itch and he asks me to rub his chest. I do. I keep trying to leave. He won’t let me as he’s too freaked out. He’s not alone! Here I am, still ridiculously in love with him and he won’t let me leave his side AND he’s making me touch him. Alas, it’s not latent lust coming up but a drug related freak out, but what can you do? So I sit with him, I talk to him and all the time he won’t let me stop touching him. Then, it’s like 2am and he wants to sleep. You guessed it, I still can’t leave him. I manage to extricate myself from him after he is asleep and move to the couch in his room and keep a watchful eye over him all night. He has never forgotten that I did that for him, the circumstances I did it under nor my feelings for him at the time. He told me, quite rightly, that anyone else would have bolted. But I told him that whatever feelings I had for him, he was over and above everything a good friend to me and I would never leave a friend to suffer like he was. And thus, our friendship was sealed in stone.

All work and no play

I am now working 7 days a week. In addition to working in Customer Relations Mon-Fri 9am to 5pm, I am also working in the call centre on a Saturday from noon to 5pm and on a Sunday from 2pm to midnight (midnight!). It's going to be worth it financially though. My parents are having to cover my legal fees for me and I want to be able to pay them back a chunk of the money before I head out to NYC and give myself enough to live on until my first Stateside pay check comes in. And I actually like the people who work in the call centre, so it won't be horrible or anything. I just have to tell myself it's only for the summer and keep my eyes on the prize.

Did I mention that my lesbian sister is getting married to her girlfriend in September? They will have been together two years when they marry. I'm trying not to focus on the fact that my sister broke up a seven year relationship in the most horrendous circumstances to be with her new girlfriend though. That story will also be a future blog, along with the story of my friendship with Craig.

X-Men 3, Audience 2.

I have gone on record as saying how conflicted I was about this movie, how I wanted it to suck as it's not being directed by Bryan Singer and also how I didn't want it to suck as I do love the other 2 so much. Well the end result is I sort of liked it but it ultimately frustrated me.

Fox are evil and their insanity in the way they handled the first 2 is what caused Bryan Singer to walk away from part 3 (well, that and the upcoming Superman Returns, obviously). It's a well known fact that X-Men was originally scheduled to be the big Thanksgiving movie in 2000 when Fox suddenly decided to move the opening to July 4th, shaving almost 5 months off the post production schedule. It's frankly a miracle the movie ended up as good as it did when those kind of insane pressures are placed upon it. On the special edition DVD, they show the moment Singer is telling some people about the move in opening date. Clearly he is furious but he's reining it in and as the camera pans away, it goes past someone I assume is his assistant who mouths "he's so pissed" at the camera. You don't say. X-Men 2: X-Men United had a tough shoot with flared tempers and cast walkouts and of course BlackAssGate but the end result was truly brilliant a big summer blockbuster with brains and heart that also made sure you got plenty of bang for your buck.

And so now we have the third installment in the franchise, X-Men: The Last Stand, Ratner's blunt object to Singer's razor blade. The main plot, that a cure for mutants is discovered opens up huge potential and sadly barely any of it is realised. The dilemma that some mutants might be happy not to have their powers while others revel in them is briefly touched on as is the after effects of suddenly having the powers they love so removed from them. But oh so very briefly. The fact that the cure is created by the father of a mutant is ignored. IGNORED! The other main plot line, the re-appearance of Jean Grey is fumbled too. Ratner doesn't seem to know what to do with her except have her wander around silently with a new dye job and look upset every now and again. There are only two scenes that deal with the extent of her power and one is way WAY too long and the other is the final moments of the big battle and is anti climactic when it should be poignant.

There are many other characters and mini plots swirling around in here and not all of them have satisfactory arcs and conclusions. Some of the cast (Ben Foster, Aaron Stanford) must wonder why they bothered showing up. Others cast members will have the audience wondering how the hell they got into the movie (Vinnie fucking Jones). And ultimately, it's very frustrating that with the two big plot strands and all the mini plot strands and new characters fighting for space, two thirds of the way through Ratner obviously thought "ah, fuck it" and decided to concentrate on pointless set pieces and crazed action. I left the theatre annoyed by what could have been rather than overwhelmed by what was.

And just to underline what could have been, the international trailer for Superman Returns was shown in front of it. And my GOD it looks incredible. In. Cred. Ible.

Watch out!

Today I finally gave in and rejoined WeightWatchers. I have been steadily regaining weight since I got back from NYC in October and I just couldn't run away from the fact that I am fatty boom a latty any longer. Part of the reason I didn't want to join WW was you have to weigh yourself (obviously) and I really don't like knowing just how fat I am. But I braved it and hopped on the scales, having convinced myself I was fatter than I've ever been in my life ever. So I was actually quite pleased to weigh in at 262. Which is 38lbs less than I was at my fattest, but still a good 60lbs higher than I would like. So today was day 1 of operation fat loss. I'll keep you all posted.

X3 is getting mixed reviews and somewhat gratifyingly even the best reviews have mentioned that the edge Bryan Singer brought to the previous two is sadly lacking. I am planning on seeing it tomorrow and I will pass full judgement then......

Sunday

So Sunday. I realise I didn't blog about it. So now I am. It was beyond wonderful to see my friend Craig again. I realised as I got to the venue that we hadn't seen each other in a little over two years and hadn't spoken in just under a year. We had a very intense friendship and you know how sometimes you are friends with someone and you fall out of touch and then if and when you reconnect, it just doesn't feel the same? I was really afraid this would happen here. Nope. Not a bit of it. It was just the same and when he said hello to me, he grabbed me and hugged me so hard I almost shed a tear of joy.

As for his music, well, I expected to be impressed but I was taken aback by just HOW good it was. He's written two full musicals (one of which is based on Therese Raquin and so I thought it prudent not to mention Thou Shalt Not) and two ballets and he assembled some wonderful singers to perform them for him (he also sang two songs himself as well as playing the piano for all of it). Some of the songs ran a bit long, but if he had told everyone that he was performing the new and unheard songs of Jason Robert Brown, you would have believed him. That's how accomplished I thought he was. He's currently on tour as Joseph in a production of Technicolor Dreamcoat and it's coming vaguely near me in a month and we're going to have dinner and catch up properly. I can't wait. One day soon, I will write a blog fully describing the reasons why my friendship with him is so intense. It's a corker.

The Da Vinci Crap

I really can't be bothered to discuss just how horribly HORRIBLY dull it was, so I will just say to click here and read the Pajiba review of it. It's a masterpiece of a review, infinitely more entertaining than the film itself.

Summer is here

It's all of 40 degrees outside, with gale force winds and it's absolutely throwing it down with rain. Awesome.

Oh fuck off, you narc!

I finally got round to watching Imaginary Heroes. And I loved it. A truly unexpected gem of a movie with an incredible performance from Sigourney Weaver (who delivers the line I titled this blog with in style) in particular, but everyone is just top notch. I am trying not to focus on the fact that writer director Dan Harris is 25 and a millionaire who worked on X2 and Superman Returns.

Spent a few days away as we had no internet connection. Switched providers and of course it went badly. But we're back in full force now, bitches!

London isn't happening now, so I will be staying in Brighton until I leave for NY. Assuming I leave for NY. The company employing me are getting more ragingly incompetent by the hour it seems. London not panning out is for the most ridiculous of reasons and they are really hedging their bets and covering their backs about my NY employment too. Sigh.

In other news, the overtime gods are smiling on me and it looks like I will be working Saturdays as well for the rest of the summer. So that's some good news. And a friend I haven't heard from in AGES called out of the blue the other day and I am going to meet up with him in London on Sunday. Whee!

Let there be light

So last night I went to see the new pyrotechnic display by Groupe F, the people behind, among other things, the Eiffel Tower at the millennium. It was a free event in Preston Park, which I live 3 seconds from. Literally, almost. It was absolutely spectacular. Truly breathtaking. As was the amount of people who turned out for it. Preston Park isn't small, its perimeter is a mile around. And when one particularly large firework went off and lit up the crowd, I took a peek. The whole park was packed full. Packed. The display finished at 10:45pm, the park finally cleared at 1:30am. Fun. What was also fascinating to me was the amount of people I overheard on cell phones saying variations of "No, I'm near the road. You know, by the trees" and expecting their friends to find them.

Then today I went to see Mission Impossible 3. I really enjoyed it until the ending. You could tell a TV person was behind it in some ways, particularly in how he dealt with backstory, which isn't a bad thing. And while Tom Cruise might be the vilest celebrity on the planet, I don't hate him as an actor. He's got enough talent to make me disassociate. Unlike Jennifer Lopez, who I hate almost as fervently. Philip Seymour Hoffman was obviously having a riot as the bad guy (he's on record as saying he took the role to do something light and fun after Capote). And I LOVED that it opened with the tantalising prospect that Mrs Ethan Hunt doesn't make it out of the film alive. Of course, we all know she will, but to posit that at the start and seemingly carry it through (although of course it's a bait and switch) gave it an edge that I appreciated. If ONLY the ending hadn't sucked. Ah well.

Sadly, Poseidon has tanked. Horrible reviews and similar word of mouth has pushed it to a very lacklustre opening weekend of just $20 million, less than MI:III in its second week. Sigh.

Slightly Alarming (part deux)

Remember my ability to kill alarm clocks? It came back full force yesterday and I overslept. I get up at 7:15am and leave the house for work at 8:15am. Yesterday I woke up, yawned, stretched and then realised I felt so refreshed and relaxed. And then I realised about a minute later that that wasn't right. I opened my eyes, looked at the clock, it's 8:10am. Fuck shit piss cunt. I rushed around and was out the door by 8:30am and hightailed it to work and hit my desk on the dot of 9am. At which point I realised I still wasn't quite well enough to pull that shit off and felt like I'd been hit by a truck for the rest of the day.

I have to get a copy of my transcript from my university. It's £25 and can take 3-4 weeks. Like I'm not poor enough and in a big time crunch AS IT IS! Still, I realise it's foolish to be whining after the good news I had earlier in the week. And yet it doesn't stop me.

Getting a step nearer to moving to New York: Priceless

Yes that's right people, today I FINALLY got the last wrinkle ironed out with my potential NY employers and we will now be moving ahead with my H-1 Visa application. Praise be.

Sigh

So I didn't wake up this morning to the hoped for headline:

"Magician drowns in ill advised stunt. World says "I told you so.""

But at least he failed to break the world record, so he looks EVEN MORE STUPID than he did this time last week. I hate him so very much that frankly, I'll take what I can get.

In other news, I feel like crap. I have a mother of a sore throat, a lovely hacking cough and I think I'm running a slight temperature into the bargain (though it could be my morning coffee was too hot). The joyous thing is because I'm only a temp at Amex, I don't get sick pay. While I don't feel that horrific, I certainly don't feel like walking 40 minutes to work to deal with idiocy on a grand scale. But I have to because, for those of you keeping score, I'm broke. I can't afford to be ill. I could have bird flu, I'd still have to go to work. Grrr.

David Blaine

Drown, motherfucker.

Slightly alarming

So it seems I have an innate ability to kill alarm clocks. I have just offed my third in seven weeks. When I started at American Express, I bought this fancy digital thing. It didn't work, so technically I may not have killed it, it was possibly dead from the off. So I took it back and I swapped it for one of those old fashioned ones, with the two big bells on top and the little hammer that bangs the ever loving crap out of them, you know the kind? They also tick louder than a grandfather clock. After a few weeks of being woken up by it, the little hammer decided to stop moving. By this time, I had started using my UK mobile phone again so I thought I would use the alarm clock on that instead. That worked fine, until this morning when it didn't go off for no apparent reason. I had luckily woken up at 6:50am desperate to pee and was laying in bed wondering if I could possibly go back to sleep when I thought "it has been a long 20 minutes" and of course, it was already 7:30am and I should have been in the shower 15 minutes ago. I checked the phone, the alarm was set, the battery was full, there was no problem, it just didn't go off. Bugger.

And speaking of peeing, I just had the most delightful peegasm. I met a guy I'd been talking to online after work for a drink and see where it led. It led nowhere after he revealed he had a boyfriend and i had to supress the urge to smack him. But he bought me a pint, so I drank it and left. I stopped into Waterstones and bought a couple of books, then went to CyberCandy and got some Coca Cola Blak and then went to the supermarket to get food for the weekend. As I'm shopping, my bladder suddenly realises it's very very VERY full. I'm 20 minutes from home. So I pay for my shopping and I hightail it out of there. By the time I am 5 minutes from home, I'm in pain. It hurts to move, it hurts even worse to stand still, so I just push on, biting my lip, sweating profusely and trying not to think about the fact that I could very well not make it home. But I did make it. And the relief was indescribable. No orgasm then, but the peegasm makes up for it. Sorta.

Poseidon remake in "shorter than original" shocker

Yes indeed, in a time when remakes of older movies always seem to run longer than the original and of course the recent King Kong remake doubled the original's running time, Poseidon has decided to buck the trend. The original film was a few minutes short of 2 hours. The remake comes in at 98 minutes.

However The Da Vinci Code, which SHOULD be a taut little 100 minute chase thriller is a somewhat ridiculous 2 and a half hours long. Sigh.

My weekend

So yes, after the hell that was last week, the weekend was so much fun. On Saturday I went up to London for the day and met up with my dear friend Rob. My ex-boss had arranged free tickets for Rob and I to see Blackbird at the matinee. It's an intense two hour no intermission play, a two hander between a 50-something man and the late 20's ish woman who confronts him about the illegal relationship they had when she was 12. I wanted to see it mainly because the female role was being played by Jodhi May who I have adored for a fair while now and have seen on stage before and always found her mesmerising. She didn't disappoint me here, delivering a complex and layered performance that wavered between an unnerving beguile sexiness and tightly controlled fury that was just tremendous. However, when she walks on stage, she's wearing a knee length leather coat and when she spoke her first lines, I thought "God, she's loud", completely booming over her male co-star. Then she removes her coat and when she turned her back to the audience, I was like "wait, is that a mic pack?". It was. As the play went on, it became clear that she had a cold and shouldn't really sound as much like Brenda Vacarro as she did and she had a whole heck of a lot of shouting and crying to do. So I figured that was why she had a body mic on. But it was occasionally distracting, though not as distracting as the horribly awkward and unnecessary coda that demanded a complete set change, soft rock music and bizarre slow mo dance style fighting between the two of them that was just ruinously awful. What's more, some online research revealed that said coda is NOT in the text and is something imposed by the director who should be taken out and shot. It completely undermines what had been an intense and troubling play.

After the play, Rob and I went to TGI Fridays and drank cocktails and he bought me dinner and listened to my woes of the last two weeks. It was when I was telling him what had been going on that it really hit home just how stressed out I was about it all. As I was walking him to the tube station to get his train back to somewhere entirely too far north, I bumped into a friend I used to work with, which was a joy. Then, I decided on the spur of the moment to drop by the Novello Theatre where another friend I haven't seen for ages works and see if he was there. He was, and he was SO happy to see me I was quite taken aback. He's the manager there and so he was trying to be all professional as there was a show about to start but he gave up after about 15 seconds of that and gave me a huge prolonged tight hug and then we gossiped for about 40 minutes while he ignored all the customers. Fabulous. Oh and speaking of hugs, Rob delivered a hug from a certain someone that was just delicious.

Then it was home again and on to Sunday. We had a press screening in the morning for Brick which I was really looking forward to, it's had great reviews and some friends in the US had seen it and raved about it. I hated it. HATED it. Not to say it's a bad film, it isn't. But it didn't work for me. I didn't care about the characters or the plot and the self conscious, post modern, stylised but horribly clumsy dialogue drove me up the fucking wall. I found myself staring at my watch from about 30 minutes in and as the film dragged interminably on, I also found myself staring at the walls, floor and celling as they were all more interesting.

After that thundering disappointment, my friend Louisa was down in Brighton for the day so we went for a long lunch which stretched into dinner. I might be moving in to her attic when I move back to London so we had to be practical and grown up as well as gossipy bitches. And now it's Monday but I don't have to work as it's a bank holiday. Woot. And after a horribly rainy start it looks like it's going to be a sunny afternoon. Woot woot!

I'm medicated, how are you?

I was planning on writing this huge entry about how crazy insane and insane crazy my week had been, but it's been too much and I don't really want to relive it, even in type. Work has been out the other side of busy and I work with idiots. Also, the NY situation has been on again off again on again off again for the last two weeks and I really just am at the end of my tether with it all.

I did have a wonderful weekend though, which has taken the sting out of it all somewhat. I'll blog about that soon enough.

On The Other Side

I can't stop listening to this song. I mentioned it earlier in the blog after the Janis ian concert last week and how spooky it was that it was written and recorded in 2000 and how anyone who hears it (including Janis herself if her introduction of it at the concert was anything to go by) can't help but think of 9/11 when they hear it. So I thought I would put the lyrics here so other people could see for themselves. Forgive the caps, but I cut and pasted them from Janis's official website.


THEY SAY THERE WAS A FIRE ON THE NIGHT I DIED
ALL I AM IS GONE
STILL THE SOUL GOES ON
THEY TELL ME I'M A HERO ON THE OTHER SIDE
OH BUT ALL THAT I REMEMBER
IS THE CHILDREN WERE IN DANGER


ON THE OTHER SIDE
CHILDREN LAUGH AND SING
ON THE OTHER SIDE
ANGELS EARN THEIR WINGS
ON THE OTHER SIDE


THEY SAY THAT YOU WERE WITH ME
WHEN THE BUILDING FELL
STRANGE TO HAVE YOU NEAR
AFTER ALL THESE YEARS
THEY SAY I COULDN'T POSSIBLY
HAVE DONE IT BY MYSELF
DID YOU SEE OUR PHOTOGRAPH
AS IT CRUMBLED INTO ASH

ON THE OTHER SIDE
CHILDREN LAUGH AND SING
ON THE OTHER SIDE
ANGELS EARN THEIR WINGS
ON THE OTHER SIDE


AND I, WHO NEVER COULD BELIEVE
NEVER SAW THE NEED
WANTED JUST TO SEE YOUR FACE AGAIN
WITH NOTHING TO HOLD ON TO
NOW I'VE FINALLY FOUND YOU


ON THE OTHER SIDE
CHILDREN LAUGH AND SING
ON THE OTHER SIDE
ANGELS EARN THEIR WINGS
ON THE OTHER SIDE
ON THE OTHER SIDE
ON THE OTHER SIDE

Not waving but drowning

Well it's been quite an intense week here at PCB Central. On Good Friday, I discovered I had no money. I was very far into my overdraft. This was a huge surprise to me. I thought I had plenty of cash, plus I'm working and getting paid so surely I'm loaded. Nope. Now, I currently use Smile, the internet branch of the Co-Operative Bank. I used to have a bank account with HSBC. I have a loan and a credit card with them. I decided to log back into my HSBC account and see what was left and apply for a consolidation loan with Smile. And that's where things started to go very very wrong.

See, when I was with HSBC, as well as my current account, I opened a household account. Because I was being paid weekly and my housemate fortnightly, I thought it would be wise to have an account we paid into on each pay day for all the monthly bills. Sensible, no? No. That account has an overdraft limit of £150. When we parted ways in July, I for my NY dream, her for marriage, I left it to her to sort out final bills etc, which she did. And the house account should have been at zero balance. When I look on Friday, the house account is £375 overdrawn. Oops. So I tally up my debt and apply for the loan with Smile. On Tuesday, I am of course turned down flat. I had a backup plan, which was to go back to HSBC. So on Tuesday I called them and that's where things went even further astray. See, for the loan repayment, I opened an account that I paid into weekly and the loan payment went out of it monthly. Makes sense, right? Wrong. When I moved it to Smile, the payments took a few days to clear, and one month, there wasn't quite enough money in the account for the repayment. And that has had a knock on effect and I have now, unknowingly, defaulted on six repayments. And for each default, I've been charged £30. Shit. So I spend an hour on the phone with HSBC and it's no fun and I have to go into my nearest branch on Friday.

So I went. And it turns out, they couldn't really do anything for me. See, with HSBC, every account holder has a "behavior" score out of 99. If that score drops below 24, no in branch decisions can be made regarding your account, it has go to a central department who will contact you by phone. My score is 13. This is about as low as it can get apparently. Fun. But a very sweet man explained everything that would happen and basically, it's all going to be ok. It's going to be a little bit sucky for a little while, but I can dig myself out of that hole fairly easily. It involves them loaning me £5050 but I'm ok with that.

But those of you keeping track might remember that the New York company who are hiring me mentioned they would pay my legal fees and levy it from my salary. Well, with my H-1 visa application starting next week, they told me on Friday they can't cover my fees. And I'll have to cover their fees too. So that means I'll have about $5000 more debt to play with. And I think I have to pay half up front. Woot.

Janis Ian

Now I do love my lady folk singers. Ani DiFranco, Dar Williams, Suzanne Vega, Nerina Pallot and so on and so on. But I just got back from a Janis Ian concert. For some reason I only know four of her songs (At Seventeen, Between The Lines, In The Winter, Society's Child) and I really liked them but I hadn't ever gone out and snapped up her back catalogue. Well more fool me. Her concert was absolutely astonishing. Alone with her guitar for a little over 90 minutes, Janis Ian had the audience in the palm of her hand from the second she appeared on stage. Her voice is incredible, intimate and soaring all at once. Added to that she's funny and personable and you have the perfect folk concert. I was blown away by the final song of the main set, On The Other Side and was even more blown away to discover it was written and recorded over a year before 9/11. So Janis, if your incessant Googling of yourself leads you to this review, just know that I was left in awe of you this evening.

Summer Movies

Now, it's no secret that summer blockbusters are usually bad. And last summer was one big black hole of suckage. The fact that, if I had to choose a highlight, it would be the craptastic-yet-I-still-liked-it-in-an-"it's shit"-kind-of-way Fantastic Four I think says it all. And yet, that being said, this summer boasts a whole crop of movies that I shouldn't be getting my hopes up about and yet I am. They are:

Mission Impossible III: I know, I know. Tom Cruise has become a punchline. The second movie was horrible. The first movie was incoherent and is also the first movie that decided to put EVERYTHING in the trailer and is therefore to blame for the trend (remember the climactic helicopter chase in the Channel Tunnel? Right there in the trailer. Stupid). So I shouldn't be getting excited about this. But, two key reasons for the suckiness of part II are absent (Thandie Newton and John Woo), JJ Abrams is the man in control and there's the added bonus of Philip Seymour Hoffman on bad guy duties. And as much as I hate to admit it, I don't HATE Tom Cruise as an actor. I don't know why but I don't. So there. I won't be jumping over a couch to proclaim this fact anytime soon, I hasten to add.

The Da Vinci Code: Not overly excited about this one, but I am intrigued to see what such a bland director can do with such a bland leading man in the most overrated overhyped load of claptrap book in decades. I read the book, I enjoyed it for what it was, but it didn't change my life or anything. The excitement lays in the supporting cast here with Audrey Tautou, Ian McKellen, Paul Bettany and Alfred Molina all making this more interesting than it actually is.

X Men: The Last Stand: I shouldn't be excited about this at ALL. The insanity of Fox finally drove Bryan Singer away from the franchise and they replaced him with Brett Fucking Ratner, who gave the world Rush Hour. While this looks like it will be all exciting on the action and spectacle front, the voiceover in the first trailer suggests the script will suck. I wish they'd waited until Singer was available, but it's all a pissing contest to get this film opened before Singer's new film.

Poseidon: Bring. It. On. I absolutely cannot fucking wait. I hope it's three hours long. A cast of people I love (Josh Lucas, Mike Vogel, Richard Dreyfuss and so on) and an astronomical budget remake of my favorite disaster movie? Who could ask for anything more? The trailers and ShoWest reel made me giddy with joy, frankly. All I ask is that Emmy Rossum is given the violent and painful death that was inexplicably denied her in The Day After Tomorrow and this may well end up being my film of the summer.

The Break Up: I love Vince Vaughn. I can't help it. He's so tall and handsome (though he has been looking a little rough around the edges lately) and he's a comic genius to boot. So this will be fabulous even if it DOES also star Jennifer Aniston.

The Omen 666: Again, I know I know. It's a remake of a classic with an odd cast, it's bound to suck. But the trailer that JUST came out looks very promising and I know it's wrong but I do love Julia Stiles.

Superman Returns: Fan boys are getting increasingly upset with publicity stills and trailers for this. Michael Hartney has been discussing it on his blog and will no doubt continue to do so as the release date rolls nearer. I have to admit that, not being a fan boy of the source material but only of the director, I'm excited. I could really do without Kevin Spacey in it but with Parker Posey as his evil sidekick, she should more than compensate.

Miami Vice: Again, I know. I should be hanging my head in shame as I type. But where other tv shows have hit the big screen in a let's all be retro camp bollocks way (yes, Charlie's Angels I mean you), the first trailer for this is all gritty and dark and exciting. Marvellous.

Snakes On A Plane: Who ISN'T looking forward to a film with that title?

I love Stephen King

And I'm not ashamed to say it. I started reading his books when he published his ultimate masterpiece, It in 1986. So it's just occurred to me that I have been a fan for 20 years. Scary in and of itself. Anyway, I have read about 90% of his output and I would rate several of his books in my all time favorites. It's always irked me when he's dismissed as a schlock writer, because his books always seem deeper than that to me. His books have managed to move and involve as well as terrify me. Not to mention he has a delicious sense of humor that has caused me to laugh out loud countless times. I will never forget reading The Tommyknockers in school during quiet time. We'd all been yelled at and threatened if we made any noise we'd be in detention for the rest of our lives. I then happened to read the part of the novel describing Gard's revenge on his boss by putting laxative in his chocolate milkshake. I spent quiet time holding in the most intense attack of the giggles, hands clasped over my mouth, tears running down my face.

Rather famously, King almost died after being hit by a truck in 1999. This was after the publication of the coolly received Bag Of Bones (which I loved). And that was the last book of his I loved for a fair while. His post recovery output is, in my opinion, his worst. Dreamcatcher is just horrible and don't even get me started on the movie, the short story collection Everything's Eventual had a few moments but I grew bored and didn't finish it. From A Buick 8 was a big improvement but it still wasn't great. I haven't read any of his Dark Tower series yet, so I don't know if the completion of that saga lived up to early promise.

Anyway, the good news is King is BACK. His latest novel, Cell, is a triumphant return to form. I absolutely loved it. And if anyone hasn't read it but intends to, please proceed no further. It's clearly inspired by Romero and his Dead movies, but King takes it to the next level. A mysterious Pulse is administered through cell phones, causing those exposed to it to turn in to crazed and murderous zombies. A small band of survivors (including, refreshingly for the unapologetically homophobic King, a homosexualist drawn with sensitivity and almost completely unremarked upon), draw together and try and work out how to survive. It being King, it's not as straightforward as all that, with telepathy, levitation, mass murder, mind control and many other curve balls thrown at the reader. The main hero, Clayton Riddell, is looking for his ex wife and young son and the scenes where he tracks his son in earnest, finding a couple of letters his son left for him, are just heartbreaking. Not as heartbreaking though as the callously efficient way King, after many pages making you really care about her, kills off the 15 year old Alice. She is rescued by Clayton at the start of the book and obviously you think that all the survivor group will make it to the last page. Nope. Alice meets a very nasty end and it's so astonishingly well handled, I got a little tearful, not to mention really angry that a character died such a senseless death. That such strong emotions could be evoked in a book about people driven crazy by their cell phones is really saying something. And the ending? Resolutely ambiguous and utterly maddening. Brilliant. I'm tired of having everything wrapped in a little bow and handed to me. Cell leaves you dangling and for that alone I would love it, but it's really the icing on the cake.

Even more excitingly, at the end of Cell, there is a few pages from the opening of his next book, Lisey's Story and this looks like it's back in the realms of books like Gerald's Game and Rose Madder, where the horror comes out of domesticity, which of course makes it all the more terrifying. For someone who retired a few years ago now, he sure is busy. Well played, Mr King. Well played indeed.

So many places, so little time

As IF I don't have enough to entertain my mind with, I now have a dilemma about where to live when I return to New York. Well, I guess it's a TRIlemma, because I've gone from having nowhere to live to having three possibilities. When I was in NY for the summer, l lived with friends in Astoria and we left it open for my return, but that got fucked up, which is why I had nowhere. Now, while I'm mulling over the two choices that have cropped up since Astoria was a no go, I was talking to my ex-roommate last night and it turns out, as I'm not back until October, I might be able to move back in with them after all. So I have made a little pros and cons list for each of the locations. I'll start with

Astoria

Pros

- I've lived there before, so I know the neighborhood.
- I like the neighborhood.
- You can control the heat in the apartment manually.
- It's a walk up but it's the second floor.
- It's super crazy cheap.
- I like my roommates.
- Laundromat is half a block away.
- I lived there over the summer so I already have some other friends in the neighborhood.

Cons

- My relationship with one roommate is volatile, to say the least. Since I came back to the UK, we've been talking a lot and decided to make a clean slate of things when I come back, but I can't help wondering if that clean slate wouldn't be better if it were unsullied by us living together.
- There would be at least 4 of us living in the apartment. I like my privacy and space. A lot. I need alone time. I don't know how much of it I would get working a full time job and living there.
- I need to go back to the gym. Thanks to my UK bank fucking things up, the NYSC two blocks from the apartment has blacklisted me.
- It's not Manhattan.
- The N/W line is the devil.
- I couldn't have a dog.


Tudor City

Pros

- It's a studio. I would be living alone.
- It's on the 21st floor, there's a lift.
- 24 hour doorman.
- The neighborhood is just GORGEOUS.
- I could walk to work.
- It's owned by a friend, so I would never have issues with my landlord.
- Laundry facilities in the building.

Cons

- It is insanely, almost prohibitively expensive.
- I have to sign contracts and show proof of earnings.
- I couldn't have a dog as the building doesn't allow them.
- Heat is controlled by the building.

Lower East Side

Pros

- It is living with my dear sweet wonderful friend Christina, who I love and will never tire of.
- It's a wonderful neighborhood.
- It's affordable, not cheap but not insane amounts of money.
- It's 3 seconds away from the subway.
- The F/V line is pretty great.
- The shower pressure is phenomenal (who doesn't love that?)
- The apartment is lovely, very well kept.

Cons

- The apartment is lovely, but it's very tiny.
- It's on the fifth floor of a walk up. And I'm lazy.
- Laundry is several blocks away, as is the nearest supermarket.
- Heat is controlled by the building.


So you see, Gentle Reader, I have lots to chew on. But, in typical PCB stylee, I am running before I can walk. I have to actually GET the visa for the job first, then I should worry about where I am going to live.

The Squee & The Whale

Last night I went to see The Squid & The Whale which I was initially annoyed about only being 81 minutes in length. By the end credits I was thanking the baby Jesus for its brevity as it was so painfully brilliant and so emotionally wrought that 81 minutes was all I could have stood.

But that's not the reason for this entry. The reason for this entry is that Volkswagen have a new ad campaign for the new Golf GTi. And it has the absolute cutest French Bulldog in it that you ever did see. And I spent the whole ad and about 5 minutes afterwards squeeing with delight about it. Anyone else who, like me, thinks that these dogs are the cutest things on earth should click here and also squee with delight. His name is Roscoe. He is to die for.

Well that didn't take long

I lost my temper with Mr Unable To Multitask today and in a very VERY controlled but clearly very angry way, told him that I thought what he was telling me was absolutely shite and if I responded to the complaint the way he wanted me to, the complainant (is that even a word?) would come back and within seconds to yell about how shabby our response was. He took it rather well, I must say. Did I mention that next week is his week to monitor the Case Management Worklist? I'm anticipating it with glee.

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For security reasons, this post is history

"I want that cunt in jail"

I figured I should headline my review with a sample of the quality of dialogue in this long in coming sequel. So you know what kind of opinion I had of the film up front. I went to see this as I figured that like Showgirls it could be a guilty pleasure, so spectacularly, mindblowingly, incomprehensibly bad that it is in fact wonderful and a huge amount of fun to watch. Alas, save for the occasional moment of unintentional laugh out loud silliness, Basic Instinct 2 is simply so bad it's plain bad.

What's more it's slow and it's boring. Note to the creative team: we have all seen the first movie. We all know Catherine Tramell is a psycho sexual lunatic who ensnares men in her web of murder and deceit. We don't need an hour long "will they won't they" prologue. The second we see her psychiatrist, Michael Glass (David Morrissey who is so much better than this, I really don't know what the hell he was thinking) we know that they'll end up sleeping together and he'll end up obsessed with her and ultimately she's setting him up to take the fall for her. So why make us wait so long for it, to wade through reels of tedium and motivations that beggar belief to get to the plot itself?

Once the plot does kick in properly, assuming the audience haven't gnawed their own arms off to relieve the boredom, the film then tries too hard to muddy the waters and thicken said plot but it's all to no avail. When Tramell visits the defeated Glass, incarcerated in an asylum at the end and hands him a copy of her new book, and puts forth the possibility that Glass is really bonkers and is responsible for the film's body count, it's so pointless I wanted to scream. Why so pointless? I refer you to my previous note to the creative team. Rather than thinking "oh that's neat I wonder if he really could be responsible" the whole audience is thinking "clearly it was you all along, Catherine, now shut up and roll the fucking credits already".

So what's left? The performances. David Thewlis clearly knew he was on to a loser from the off and so decided to ham it up mercilessly and in a Welsh accent to boot (it is he who delivers the line in the subject heading). Hugh Dancy had the right idea, appearing in 2 scenes before being killed off. Charlotte Rampling is of course glorious, a shining beacon of brilliance in a sea of mediocrity.

And then there's Sharon. Crazy Sharon. She can't act. At all. Not even a little bit. And she never has been able to. She has exactly one good performance to her name, in Total Recall of all things. Her delivery, as she beats up Arnie, of "That's for making me come to Mars. You know how much I hate this fucking planet." is a joy. But everything since then, first Basic Instinct included, has been shabby, to say the least. Her inexplicably lauded turn in Casino is painfully bad, hell even her cameo on Roseanne demonstrated how entirely lacking in comic timing she was. Here, her acting, if you can call it that, is stymied further by the fact she's had so much plastic surgery her face is all but immobile. There have been some absolutely corking reviews, one of which referred to her as having the face of a tightly made bed and another which said that it was like watching someone's overly made up mum doing an impression of Sharon Stone playing Catherine Tramell. Both are right, and if for no other reason, this film should be seen just to take in the true awfulness that is Sharon Stone's performance.

But that's not all that's awful about La Stone. As I mentioned in the above paragraph, she has discovered the delights of plastic surgery. To the max. Her face has been so lifted and Botoxed that ironically she doesn't look good for her age. And she is frighteningly, painfully thin. When she disrobes to reveal ribs you could play the glockenspiel on and horrible horrible horrible fake boobs, it is a truly unpleasant sight. In fact, every time I looked at her in the film, I couldn't shake the feeling that somewhere there was a crypt going unkept. As if to underline just how much surgery she's had and how bad it's made her look, several times throughout, Sharon stands next to Charlotte Rampling. 12 years older than Stone and seemingly untouched by plastic surgeons, Rampling looks absolutely glorious, radiating a natural beauty Stone couldn't match if she tried. And my God does it look like she tried. One more shot of Botox and the only role Stone will be getting is if they make Mannequin 3: On The Outs.

Is it me, or

Is this one of the best posters in years? The film itself may end up being a big sucky mess, but that is one phenomenal poster.

Alcohol and iPods

How funny that Grouchbutt mentioned in his blog about how great it is when your iPod plays the song you love and how dumb it is to think that because you loaded the iPod with the music in the first place. See, on Thursday night I went out and I got very drunk and on the 45 minute walk home, I listened to my iPod. On my iPod there is a playlist simply titled Miscellaneous which contains B sides, album tracks from albums I didn't like enough to load the whole thing on and also CD singles and downloaded stuff. In other words, miscellany. Anyway, it's 81 tracks long and I decided to put it on shuffle on my walk home and it played me the following:

This Town Ain't Big Enough For The Both Of Us - Sparks
There Are Worse Things I Could Do - Alison Moyet
Privilege To Pee - Urinetown
...Baby One More Time - Travis
The Queen & The Soldier (Live) - Suzanne Vega
Unforgivable Sinner - Lene Marlin
All The Wasted Time - Parade

ALL of which I haven't heard in ages and all of which made me very happy. But the last song there, from Parade, I was so drunk and the last part of my walk home is through a park that at pushing midnight was devoid of people. And when I get drunk, I could out-lip synch Lypsinka. And I love All The Wasted Time. And I got terribly carried away in my drunken state. It was fun.

And I needed some fun after what has been a very intense week and included a visit to the cinema to see Basic Instinct 2, a review of which will be coming later today, along with a more detailed overview of my week.

Isn't she rich enough already?

Madonna has announced her new tour schedule and prices. For her UK dates, the top price is a whopping £160, with the cheapest ticket still a monstrously unaffordable £80. Now, I run hot and cold with Madonna but the Re-Invention Tour is the greatest gig I have ever seen and the current album is her strongest in a L O N G time. But come on. The woman has more money than she could ever possibly spend. She could charge £10 a ticket and not even notice. It makes me a little ill that she's charging so much, to be honest. I won't be going.

Brighton, we have a problem

Yeah so just when everything starts to come together in my life, something comes along and whips the rug right out from under me.

Those of you keeping up with current events will know that I took a job in Brighton with a view to working freelance for the NY company in my spare time and then going to NY in October and working for them full time. I've been with my Brighton job for two weeks now and I really enjoy the job and my boss is lovely Factoring in it's a tiny team of us (there's 5 of us) dealing with a LOT of work, one person leaving does have a huge effect. And so I dropped the NY people a line earlier in the week as the visa applications open on Monday to see how things were progressing. And that's when they tell me they are opening a London office and would love me to work there full time until October when they'd transfer me to NYC.

Now of course, I'm thrilled. But as well as Brighton, I am also going to be fucking over my friend who has been my savior since I got back to the UK. I can't stay in Brighton when I work full time in London, it's just not feasible, especially when I live a 20 minute walk (up a hill, people) from the train station in Brighton, AND there's a subway journey the other end to get to the office. And the train journey itself is an hour. If it runs on time, though I have frequently taken the train and the journey has taken 75 minutes. My friend currently lives with her emotionally fragile sister and this week I started paying said sister some rent as she is moving out in July to live with her boyfriend. Originally, I was going to take over her room until October and give my friend some more breathing space to find someone else to move in. You know, that's the least I could do after being allowed to live here rent free for 5 months. But now I need to find a way to tell her that this can no longer happen. I don't think I will even try and get out of paying the sister the back rent I owe her though.

Why is nothing in my life ever simple? WHY couldn't my US employers have offered me this in the fucking first place and I could have been back in London by now, temping there and waiting for the office to be set up and everybody's happy? Why do I now have to completely uproot myself, ruin my friend and her sister's plan not to mention piss off my lovely boss? I have already decided I will give her as much notice as possible to replace me AND stay and train the newbie so to make it as smooth and painless as possible for her. Also, this means I can give my friend and her sister the same amount of notice. Hopefully this will soften the blows all round, but I'd much rather not have to deal with this.

Still, I'm keeping my eyes on the prize and I have to remember in the long run I am achieving something I have wanted for years. I could have done with less collateral damage though, I have to admit.

Dream a little dream of me

Have you ever had a dream so effed up that you have realised it's a dream but then you've woken up and can't remember anything about it except it was effed up? Anyone? Since discovering such a thing was possible, I have been having a go at what's called "lucid dreaming". It hasn't been at all successful so far though last night I did get as far as realising it was a dream. Which was something. All I remember is at the end of the dream, I was watching a concert that seemed to be given by Alanis Morrissette and a very very young Eliza Dushku on backing vocals. And the song they were singing was wedged in my head for about an hour after I woke up and then it was forgotten.

Work at AmEx is fun. I'm already really good at the job and the boss loves me so there you are. I think it was helped by the fact that the girl who started the same day as me is as dumb as a box of hair. Within the first few hours, she had asked about working overtime for a different department which of course went down like a lead balloon. Since then, it's been so crazy that there have been two opportunities for overtime and she has not stayed on. Is it me?

Oh how I wish I was a kid again

I'm troubled. The other day I was listening to Ute Lemper's album Berlin Cabaret Songs most of which were written in response to the rise of Nazism and the end of Weimar Germany and WWII. What was so horribly troubling about these incredible songs was how they are all still relevant to the world today. And their relevance actually increases with each passing day. One song in particular strikes such a chord with what is happening in the USA right now I have decided to transcribe the lyrics here. It's called Munchhausen:


I came across a wondrous tree, as prickly as a porcupine
This cactus tree bore luscious fruit and giant roses red as wine
It rose so high into the sky, its top was far far out of sight
Its leaves recoiled from the day and then they turned to gold at night
And if you bored into its bark, hot coffee poured out rich and dark

Chorus:
Liar liar liar liar liar liar
I'm sick and tired of lies from you
But how I wish your lies were true
Liar liar liar liar liar liar
Truth is hard and tough as nails
That's why we need fairy tales
I'm all through with logical conclusions
Why should I deny myself illusions?

I saw a film the other day that really varied from the norm
There were no soldiers on parade and no-one marched in uniform
Its heroes were not supermen and no-one even shot a gun
The audience still loved the film though not a single war was won
But I was really shocked to see this film was made in Germany

Chorus

I saw a court of law where all the justices were just again
Where all the lawyers worked for free and all of them were honest men
You could be rich, you could be poor, you could be Christian or a Jew
Your politics did not have sway on how a judge would rule on you
Their hearts were young, their minds were free, they judged all man equally

I saw a woman trying hard to feed her family of ten
She was poor and destitute and worse was pregnant once again
She knew what they would say in church, she sought a doctor out instead
Who told her if she had the child, she herself might well end dead
Then in the calm and gentle voice he said "the law says it's your choice"

Chorus

I saw a brave republic where one banner flew for all to see
Its stripes of red and black and gold proclaim a new democracy
All banners from the past were banned, the empire's black and white and red
Yes now the black and red and gold was flying everywhere instead
And nowhere will you see those flags which sport the thing that zigs and zags

Chorus

I saw a land that hated war and melted all its weapons down
to build a boat of love for kids who planned to sail from town to town
declaring peace for all the world, let killing now come to an end
Embrace your enemies instead, your former foe is now your friend
Every conflict now will cease and all of us will live in peace

Chorus


While I was trying to find the lyrics on a website to save myself having to type them out I came across some reviews for the cabaret show Lemper did last year called Blood & Feathers where she performed this song and all of them mention the continuing relevance of the song. But there also many others on the same CD that could have been written last year rather than 60 odd years ago, The Lavender Song, Chuck Out The Men!, Oh How We Wish That We Were Kids Again all sent chills down my spine as I listened to them. I would love someone other than Lemper to re-interpret these songs and bring them back into the public eye, use them to make a statement, someone like oh I don't know Megan Mullally maybe. She has proven with a couple of tracks that she has the right sound and style to tackle songs from Weill and Brecht, she could if she so desired extend that repertoire. I would love to see it done. Alas, it's all a pipe dream.

The Three What Of Who Now?

It's been a few days since I last blogged. I haven't really been feeling it. I wanted to write and entry about The Hills Have Eyes but it was even worse than I feared it would be and I really couldn't bring myself to talk about it. Saw some other films but even though I enjoyed these a whole lot more (The Proposition, Syriana), I again couldn't be bothered to blog about them. Plus I fell asleep for 10 minutes half way through Syriana and consequently had no freaking clue what was happening for the rest of the damn film.

Today I went to an early(ish) press screening of The Three Burials Of Melquiades Estrada which is utterly tremendous. While Tommy Lee Jones still mumbles like a son of a bitch and I still hate him for winning the Oscar for his long distance phone call of a performance in The Fugitive over Leonardo DiCaprio in What's Eating Gilbert Grape, there's no denying he's a very fine director. And it's nice that Barry Pepper can still get work after Battlefield Earth.

Also over the weekend, I went to see V For Vendetta. Its five month delay didn't fill me with a great deal of hope I must admit, especially as the reason for the delay was a load of shit (the London bombings were cited, yet the film was scheduled to open in November, the bombings occurred in July and furthermore, the original "remember remember" campaign for the original release date didn't start until AFTER the bombings). Also, it has the taint of the Wachowski brothers involvement, who will never be forgiven for the Matrix sequels. Ever. So I was truly surprised when it was extremely entertaining and, for a first time director, very confidently put together. Natalie Portman was astonishing as Evey, nailing the accent (not without the occasional slip, but hey) and delivering a very nuanced performance. There were unexpected delights in the shape of Stephen Fry and Rupert Graves as well as a level of intelligence and ideas not commonly associated with films like these. The imagery at the end of the film was very powerful indeed.

In other news, tomorrow I enter back into the world of full time employment. I have been out of work now since July 9th 2005 and I am so ready to have a job again I can't even tell you. It's with American Express, so hopefully there will be some fun benefits to the job. We'll see. I start at 10am, then it's Mon-Fri 9-5. I haven't had a schedule like that in 6 years, so it should be fun.

Bree Season

Yeah, I know I know, the title is a pun, not a typo. This season of Desperate Housewives without a doubt belongs to Bree Van Der Kamp and I wouldn't be at all surprised to see Marcia Cross do a clean sweep of the award shows next year. Over here in the UK we are only up to the death of scary George after Bree discovers he offed her husband, so it's all to play for but already she's had so many incredible moments and has nailed every single one of them. Last year the awards initially went to Teri Hatcher, presumably to celebrate the fact she wasn't starving in a gutter somewhere, before finally they realised that the first season in fact belonged to Felicity Huffman. Hopefully the fact that this season has been decidedly weak so far won't deny Marcia Cross from her rightful moment of glory.

And speaking of characters named Bree, I saw a press screening of Transamerica this morning. There's been much hoo ha over Felicity Huffman winning a huge amount of awards and missing out on the Oscar for her performance. And it is an incredible performance, subtle, measured, pretty much pitch perfect. Unfortunately, the formulaic script and direction undermine her incredible characterisation. The rest of the film is full of stereotypes rather than characters and nothing is really resolved in a satisfactory manner. I was just left thinking that while the film deserved a lot of praise for a lack of sentimentality and mawkishness and the sensitive handling of the subject matter, it could have been better. Kevin Zegers was distractingly beautiful and very talented as her wayward teenage son, but even he was nothing but a collection of clichés and the big moment of discovery with Bree's identity is horribly forced. So it's a case of nearly but not quite. Ah well.

Keep repeating "It's only a movie, it's only a movie...."

Ok, I was going to stay out of talking about the Oscars and the fact that Brokeback Mountain didn't win Best Picture because I didn't care. I disagreed so strongly with so many of the nominations and some people who were overlooked that the second they were announced, I stopped caring. Consequently when Crash (a film I really enjoyed) pulled of that upset, I was pleased for the film but I wasn't bothered. I wasn't surprised either. Race is something the Academy have been relentlessly bashed about for years and years and years and it's something that they have addressed in the past few years with the "historic" year of Halle Berry and Denzel Washington winning being the starting point. Morgan Freeman has won, Don Cheadle and Sophie Okenedo have been nominated and so on. So is it surprising that a film set in present day Los Angeles and dealing with just how widespread racism really is and the effects it can have scoops Best Picture? Not to me. This way they can finally say they're not racist. And they did it with a good and worthwhile, if occasionally forced and heavy handed, movie. But of course, not everyone sees it that way. There has been such an insane amount of uproar since the Oscars that I have become increasingly embarrassed for people who are getting themselves in such a tizzy over what is, at the end of the day, an awards show. For movies.

The Academy has been accused of homophobia. But that just doesn't wash. The entertainment industry is the gayest one there is and if major Hollywood stars have sham marriages, it isn't because Hollywood is homophobic, but because Hollywood thinks the world is. They've happily doled out Oscars to gay performances (Tom Hanks in Philadelphia, William Hurt in Kiss Of The Spiderwoman, hell they even awarded Linda Hunt Best Supporting Actress for playing a man in The Year Of Living Dangerously) and nominated them all over the shop too (The Crying Game got a truckload of nominations and only won a couple, I don't recall this kind of furore happening then). In 1970, Midnight Cowboy and its openly gay director John Schlesinger were awarded Best Picture and Director. The Adventures Of Priscilla, Queen Of The Desert rightly won Best Costume Design and Tim Chappel accepted the award in a dress. So it's not like they've NEVER awarded edgy gay material or people before ever. Ok, it's not like they do it very often, but if Hollywood could come to understand that the world isn't as homophobic as it thinks, and all the closeted talent came out, we'd find they've awarded a whole lot more gay people than we realise.

So why am I blogging about it now. What was the straw that broke the camel's back? (did you see what I did there?) Well, dear readers, it was this. Click it and read it if you feel like wading through 240 pages of ridiculousness. In short, DaveCullen.com and all the people who frequent the message boards there were so upset that Jack & Ennis's love was killed by the Academy (that's a direct quote from them) that they decided to raise money to place an ad in Variety proclaiming that Brokeback was the best picture of the year and listing all the other awards the film has won. The cost? In excess of EIGHTEEN THOUSAND DOLLARS. Could they think of nothing better to spend the money on? Is anyone who voted for Crash picking up Variety this morning and going "oh well this makes all the difference! What was I thinking? Rescind the award!"? Of course they aren't. More likely, they're dismissing the ad out of hand. And who, frankly, could blame them? Let's not lose sight of the fact that it's a film. An important film, but still a film. And it's a film, I would wager, whose importance isn't diminished by losing the Oscar. But if anyone associated with the film opened Variety today and thought anything other than "Dear God, is this for real?", I'd be hugely surprised.

Getting to know me

So I was emailed one of those question things that everyone loves to send so much. Rather than email it to people, I decided to fill it in and put it on my blog, just for the fun of it. So here it is.



1.. What time did you get up this morning?

Ugh, woke up at some ungodly hour of 8:30am but then refused to get out of bed until 10:15am


2.. Diamonds or pearls?

Diamonds. Oh, and pearls.


3.. What was the last film that you saw at the cinema?

The New World and for the fourth time ever in my life, I walked out of a film. It was so very painfully slow and incoherent and when, at the 90 minute mark, a red headed English maid popped up with a "cor blimey lawd luv a duck" accent, I was like "ok, I have had enough" and made a run for it.

4.. What is your favorite TV show?

Do I have to pick just one? Ok then, Six Feet Under

5.. What did you have for breakfast?

Toasted cheese sandwich. Health health health.


6.. What is your middle name?

William.

7.. What is your favorite cuisine?

Chinese!


8.. What foods do you dislike?

Brussel sprouts with a passion. I was forced to eat cold undercooked sprouts on a school trip so as not to upset the chef and have never to this day eaten another.

9.. What is your favorite potato chip?

Baked Doritos.


10.. What is your favorite CD at the moment?

I'm VERY fond of the "Official Bootlegs" that Tori Amos put out, I have to say.


11.. What kind of car do you drive?

First of all, I can't afford to own a car. Second of all, if I could afford it, I still wouldn't. I wasn't the safest of drivers, so I think for everyone's sanity, it's best I don't drive.


12.. Favorite sandwich?

Mozzerella, ham and cheese on toasted ciabatta.


13.. What characteristics do you despise?

Well, people who know me who are reading this know the answer to this one. Passive aggressive behavior drives me absolutely up the fucking wall.


14.. What are your favorite clothes?

I'm really not much of a clothes horse. T shirt and jeans does me fine.


15.. If you could go anywhere on vacation, where
WOULDN'T you go?

Anywhere that requires a pre trip vaccination.


16.. What is your eye color?

Blue/green.


17.. Favorite brand of clothing?

Well, when I can afford and fit into them, I plan to shop at Guess? a whole hell of a lot.


18.. Where would you like to retire?

Hell, when I get to NY, I am never leaving.


19.. Favorite time of day?

Twilight, whatever time it happens to be.


20.. Where were you born?

RAF Hospital in Ely, I do believe.


21.. Favorite sport to watch?

I have a few. Ice skating, gymnastics, rhythmic gymnastics and diving.


22.. Coke or Pepsi?

This is a tough one. I do love diet coke. And I love vanilla diet coke with a passion, but it's slowly disappearing. But I also adore diet wild cherry pepsi and the new pepsi max coffee flavor is divine.


23.. Are you a morning person or a night owl?

Very much a night owl. Mornings should be outlawed.


24.. What did you want to be when you were little?

Famous. Not for anything in particular, just famous.


25.. What is your best childhood memory?

My parents had some wonderful friends, and two of them were very rich. So rich, that they had a poolhouse built in their yard. When it was completed and the pool was filled and such, they threw a MASSIVE party to christen it, inviting all their friends and their kids. It was a very long day of swimming, eating, drinking, it was so much fun.


26.. What are the different jobs you have had in your
life.

Lord, let me think. Well, my parents owned a supermarket so I worked for them throughout school. Then at university, I got a weekend job in a bookshop. Moved to London, got a job as a runner in a film company. After 18 months, jacked that in and went to the Prince Edward Theatre box office. After 6 years of that, I went to NY to pursue my dream of living and working there, and that's still panning out.

27.. Nicknames?

I'm sure I have some I don't know about, but on the whole I really don't like nicknames.

28.. Ever been to Africa?

Nope.

29.. Ever been toilet papering?

Oh hell no

30.. Ever been in a car accident?

Yes. Remember earlier I said I wasn't the best driver. Well, I had a lucky escape when I turned my car over when the tires blew out after I took a corner too fast. I was unharmed and two weeks later a guy in the same village as me did the exact same thing and was killed.

31.. Favorite day of the week?

Well I haven't worked since July so it's all much of a muchness. But Sunday.


32.. Favorite Restaurant?

The Renaissance Diner :-)


33.. Favorite flower?

Oh come on. I'm gay but I'm not THAT gay.


34.. Favorite ice cream?

Coldstone's cake batter!


35.. Favorite fast food?

Mexican


36.. How many times did you fail your driving test?

Just once. Surprisingly.

37.. Which store would you choose to max out your
credit card?

Barnes & Noble.

38.. Bedtime?

Right now, it's been anywhere between 1 and 3am.


39.. Last person you went to dinner with?

My friend Josie. We went for Sunday lunch and it was lovely.

40.. What are you listening to right now?

Nothing! Pure silence


41.. What is your favorite color?

Blue. Sometimes red.

42.. How many tattoos do you have?

One I guess. It's a collection of runic symbols that you can see in my main profile pic. It's one phrase, but it's 13 symbols. So I have one tattoo, but it's made of 13 tattoos.

One more thing

Alright I don't want to spend the next month on my blog going "and a year ago today" but, it occurred to me when I read over the list of shows that I missed one out. HurlyBurly. There's a story to it too.

See, it was a bitterly BITTERLY cold Wednesday and I decided to try my luck at the Dirty Rotten Scoundrels lottery. $25 for front row seats. It was the day before their opening night so I figured I was guaranteed the full cast and they'd be on top form. I was the first name pulled out for the lottery so I got front row center aisle. Go me. As soon as the show let out, I headed over to Theatre Row for HurlyBurly. I should explain at this point that it was (at that time) a limited run in a tiny theatre. And because they'd cast Ethan Hawke, Bobby Cannavale and Parker Posey, the whole run was sold out. So I was taking a chance with any tickets being returned. I got to the box office at 5pm and they said I could wait but it was unlikely to happen. Well, I figured it was freezing outside and I was first in the returns line and I could wait inside in the warm, so what the hell. At ten minutes to eight, a girl who was part of a group had an extra ticket and sold it to me for ten bucks off. So the theatre gods really were smiling on me that day. Bobby Cannavale and Parker Posey's performances were both utterly incredible. Well worth sitting through a deeply unpleasant and L O N G play for.