So London has been such a fucking pain this time. You see here is the truth, I was sick on arrival; I flew into Heathrow last week feeling hot and yucky. I secretly thought I had swine flu; mentally I was plotting my funeral.
So, then I just got ready for the gigs and getting myself into gear. The coughing during the night freaked me out so much I had to stop smoking all over again (yes I slipped). So breathing is better since I had stopped again, but seriously I am concerned and need to go get my lungs check.
So I called NHS helpline and they asked me all the countries I had visited lately, I gave them New Zealand, Hong Kong, Los Angeles and Scotland. She ignored all the exotic locations and dug her teeth into Scotland. “There are big out breaks of swine flu in Scotland” she shouted. After I listed all my ailments she reassured me that I don’t have swine flu but just The Flu.
The gigs have been great though, I managed to do an Edinburgh preview which wasn’t really an Edinburgh preview. I just made some stuff up and watched if it worked or not. Meanwhile, the illness was ranging from snotty thick nose goo and coughing up green kites out of my lungs, then hacking coughs during the day that almost made me pee myself.
Wednesday last week I headed up to Manchester for a casting. I made the fatal mistake of jumping on an early train (instead of 9.20am I got on the 8.20am) which apparently is evil and costs an extra £160- as if I was going to pay that because I sat on a train an hour earlier that is just mental. I told the train man to fuck off, the train was empty and I refused to be robbed by those people.
He just stared at me and said “You got on a train that is peak time and your ticket is off peak, you have to pay”.
“Am not paying, look, am sorry but this train is empty, I am not taking someone’s seat, the sheer amount of times the train I paid for never either never left the station or never quite got to its destination is many fold, so am not moving or paying so call the police, look mate I know you are doing your job but this is just wrong” I spoke. He stared at me and said “ok” then smiled. I like the train man now.
The casting went fine, and I headed back to London on a train that wasn’t actually my ‘time train’ but I was now addicted to screwing with the system and felt quite crazy. Nobody bothered.
London has been really hot, at night I was sleeping in the lovely room with a big fan in my face which was awesome but in the morning my mouth and nose were dried up.
On Friday I woke up to the news that Michael Jackson had died, I really liked his music but went off him years ago when he paid a kid not to take him to court for sexual offences. I know he was found innocent in another child sexual case, but I just didn’t like him much after that. No one likes talking about this, not many people liked my tweets about this, so I will leave it at that!
On Saturday I did a comedy stint on Loose Ends on BBC Radio 4; it can be a tough gig as you basically shout stuff at five people sitting round a table in a small studio. The lovely Gerry Anderson was there, he was the man who made the Thunderbirds puppet series amongst many other puppet based TV shows.
He was really a cool old dude and gave me a big chat about stopping smoking; really he should be doing the circuit as a stopping smoking guru as he was awesome at that. Then he went on radio and as Clive Anderson asked him about Thunderbirds etc…Gerry told him “I hated working with puppets” That made me giggle, nice man though.
The comedy slot went ok, but honestly I think I have done better before.
I coughed my way onto a bus and headed back to the flat to get ready for Jongleurs Bow.
I have been bothered by my over eating campaign that started back in 1980, I know I am too fat and decided to diet (again). This time to help motivate me, I stood naked and took a photo on my phone of me from behind with the help of the mirror and OH FOR FUCKSAKE…I am never eating again. If you ever want evidence of how bad you look take a pic of you at an angle you never see and you will soon stop eating biscuits. I am now going to get an exercise programme into action and will take photos from behind to chart the progress.
One day when I am thin enough to be acceptable to society I may show those photos to people. I am horrified, I don’t have a waist I have back fat that just goes up to my neck and what are those two big indentations? Back Boobs? I am gutted. Husband never told me how fucked I look from behind, and the amount of lumpy fat on my ass is scary. Treadmill/yoga/swimming here I come.
I get home in time to watch Ashley graduate, she wasn’t going to go to the ceremony but I talked her into it. She will wear a gown she tells me but not a hat. That’s my girl!
So it’s been a long twelve days in London, I hate being away from home and having an illness. The sun is shining today and I am all better and heading home.
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