09.07 - Its England for God's Sake 10.07 - Don’t believe everything you see! Its England for God's Sake What can I say; here I am in the UK. A place of many delights, Picturesque villages with rather idiosyncratic names, such as “fiddlers elbow”, Shakespeare, fish and chips, Footballer’s wives, Pubs with warm beer and of course rain! Despite heartfelt promises to the contrary, from Archie, my well-intentioned fashion guru friend who guaranteed me sun-drenched days, piercing blue skies and happy shiny people running around in tees, shorts, and sandals attached to white legs that glow in the dark - all I have witnessed is Rain, rain and more rain. I know what you are thinking, its England for gods sake, of course its going to bucket down all the time, but for heavens sake its summer! Not even a glimpse of sunshine, have I felt, unless you count the irritatingly happy advert depicting Mr. happy sunbeam himself decked out in full Sunday best regalia leaping from a bowl of bran flakes telling you to “start your morning off right!” I know I’m here to write but really what’s a girl to do? –the hair’s flat, and I’m having to wear the same 2 pairs of jeans and jumpers pretty much every day, because they’re the only weather appropriate items in the suitcase. The good news is, dreary, drizzle laden, days of doom and gloom are good for the creative juices…ok I might be over stating the situation a bit but you get sad flat haired picture. Actually whilst I’m thinking about it. Does anyone out there provide me with a recommendation for a styling product that doesn’t make me resemble a drowned rat when wet??? Consequently, a heartbreakingly depressing song has been penned, appropriately called “I hope your Happy now!”…A real gem me thinks! Co-written with Dee Adam and Jane dobbins, the lyric did start out as a uplifting “I want to be where ever you are – you are great- love is sublime” type of thing, full of wanting to be the hand that holds you. Blah, blah, blah…Jane was determined to get me to be romantically positive for a change, and for one misguided second I was swayed…. But then she made a terrible mistake – she left the room for a cigarette. Dee and I were ruthless. Out went the uplighting longing and in came the slit your wrists, life is bitch rhetoric. In 5 minutes flat the song was lyrically redirected (Now, that’s a good term!) Into a slightly angry song that recalled the woes of being dumped! Poor Jane was shell-shocked when she returned, when she asked us how this 360 degree turn happened – we of course BLAMED THE RAIN…. Ummm, thinking about Rain has served me well to date…I think I kissed it a few years back- and that turned out to be a huge result!!!! If I’m lucky it’ll rain tomorrow too! Fingers crossed! Bx Back to Top LESSON # 517 - Don’t believe everything you see! Life is a funny old thing, funny bizarre, funny peculiar…. The National Enquirer – now all of us have, at some point found ourselves strangely drawn to the magazine racks at Walgreens on tabloid Thursday…oh don’t even bother trying to deny it – who can resist such salubrious bottom-feeding front-page exclusives about Angelina and Brad’s supposed break-up, president Bush’s assumed drinking problems, Lindsay Lohan's rehab vacations, or Paris Hilton losing her prison diaries… Now it’s one thing to read outlandish gossip - quite another to think that you’re the subject of page 19…Photo insert and all! Before carrying on I should mention, that I have had numerous cornea replacements, and as such, I am notorious for not recognizing famous people, or completely mistaking their identities…Case in point, would be thinking that asking Emilio Estevan, how Gloria was, only to be informed that I was in fact taking to Antonio R. Villaraigosa, Mayor of L.A. Then there was the time I find myself talking with a woman at a rather swish Vanity Fair party... Attempting to engage in party small talk, I ask her what she does for a living? To which she replies, "I’m a singer"... "Fab," say I, "What kind of music do you do?" Musing for a moment she says, "Oh, I like classical, but I guess I’m more rockish." Realizing that I hadn’t asked her what her name was, I of course proceed to ask…she replies "Sheryl"... To which I say - "Oh that’s so cool, you have the same name as one of my favorite singers, Sheryl Crow… she’s great...I saw her perform at Lilth... what a songwriter" Then, Me being Me, I merrily launch into a tequila influenced, off- key rendition of "All I want to do is have some fun". As if that wasn’t enough I unintentionally compound the situation by asking "Do you like her?" To which came the earth-please-swallow-me-whole words "I am Sheryl Crow!" As of yet, I haven’t mistaken Denzel Washington for Madonna – but I suspect it’s only a matter of time. Anyway back to the Enquirer story…so there I am turning the pages, when I see a picture of myself, seemingly engaged in a full on kiss. Going thought my mental rolodex, I try to recall who/ when/where, but no-one springs to mind that looks vaguely familiar- Gasping, I put my hand to my lips, and whisper “Jesus H Christ…I’m in the Enquirer!” Halle (who you’ll hear lots about as time goes on – because she’s the business one who keeps my scatter-brain together!) rips the magazine out of my hands, looks down, and proceeds to seemingly paraphrase the article, "Oh- my- good- god- they say you dated for 2 years... that you broke up a 7 year marriage …that you just up and left the relationship last month to become a nun." Then, bursting into to hysterical laughter, says "Oh for gods sake, It’s not you, its Mel B you idiot!!!" I’d like to say that I realized the error of my ways, put the tabloid down, and vowed never to read another gossip rag again – alas, that would be an out and out lie. Euphoric, that it wasn’t a close up of me swapping spit with someone I didn’t even remember kissing, I simply continued reading... sad but true! As I write this I am thinking contact lenses might be a good option… Bx Back to Top