Forgetting that I'm lazy....

Oh Reader, this morning, after my run, I was hit by a sudden revelation: If people do not remind me to work then I forget that I have to. This blog is a perfect example. When I got back from Ireland, I had to get 5 messages asking when the next blog would be before I remembered that it was something that I should really be doing regularly. Acting is the same thing. I keep forgetting that it's one of those things that you have to keep putting work into for it to work. It's all too easy for me to go, 'well I'm waiting to get that one last bit of film for my showreel, so I'll just wait for it, hum tee hum' and then do nothing for ages. In this case, because I'm trying to do lots of very boring admin stuff to put on a play in a few months, I keep thinking that I don't need to do anything else to further my career. Which is, quite frankly, BALLS. Because that's the thing with being an actor, you need to constantly be working at it and looking for auditions. And I keep using the fact that I'm waiting on one bit of film to not do that. I mean, yeah, I don't want to write to agents without a showreel to present to them, but I could be at least trying to get some filming done of my own! I've had a script sitting by my bed for ages that I've wanted to film, an application form to The Actor's Centre and emails to write to my mentor that I've been putting off because of sheer laziness.

So now I feel the need to be super organised, but that's the problem with having a job, you don't have the necessary time to go with it! I feel like I need a full three days, with someone who knows how to organise stuff, to sort out my life a bit. A working holiday. But if I'm not working, I'm not earning. And if I'm not earning then I'm going to have serious difficulty paying my phone bill, so I won't be able to organise my life! And the circle of life continues.

Of course, that in itself is just a massive excuse. Let's face it Reader. I am a lazy cow. Is there a pill for that?

So what else has been going on of late? I've been trying to find a Theatre for a show that I'm hopefully doing this year. This morning I have called 5 separate people. One laughed at me when they heard I was looking for a cheap space in November. I had a lovely bank holiday weekend, during which I got very drunk and subsequently very hungover, then had tea with my grandparents. I watched the film Limitless and got very jealous (I want a pill that makes me all motivated and smart!) then proved how much I need said pill by telling The Lad that I was the opposite of that, Limitful. ('Uh....don't you mean limited?')

Right, on that note Reader, I have to dash off to work!
Wine wine wine
Ash
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I can see clearly now the rain has gone...

What I can't work out Reader, is why the riots keep happening. Tescos near my work is smashed like something out of a Stephen King novel about the end of the world and I saw families with duvets and ASDA bags stuffed with clothes leaving by car. A balaclava lay on the ground my the hedge, but was gone by the afternoon. The Lad works in Ealing, where the local area has been completely decimated. Yesterday at work I kept my phone out all day (a cardinal sin in a call centre) in case I needed to head home in a hurry. The customers at the cafe I sat in before work kept asking 'where is the army?'. Normal people are talking about violence and retribution, about turning chaos back upon even the youngest of the rioters.

Despite this, one wonderful has come out of it, and that's the community spirit. Carpenters are working for free to restore shop fronts, local teenagers like my brother and his friends are offering their services as street cleaners and manual labour.

Going to work feels odd. No-one was happy to be in London, everyone either scared or angry. Every song on the radio sounded strangely ironic and I saw some strange sights, like a teenager with suspiciously clean trainers riding a bike with no seat (obvious much?) and children who haven't even started growing leg hair bragging about people they knocked out. This is not my London.

Yesterday morning my mum asked me to try and come up with the mindset of the looters. How can they see this as being right> They have so much anger, no empathy. Where did I gain the skills of empathy? From my parents, my friends, the books and films I've watched. I've been lucky. I started in Tottenham with practically no money, but a brilliant support system. My parents have worked ridiculously hard their whole lives to move to a nice area and be able to afford a few luxuries. Maybe if I had parents who told me that the government was out to get me, that the police should be feared, grew up around wannabe gangsters and had a shit education. But I know people who have grown up in that environment, and they're still decent members of the community who wouldn't dream of harming another person or looting a shop.

I have no answers.

What I do know is that today has been calmer. No riots. No violence that I'm aware of. Just sunshine. And with that, a bit more hope. The streets are fuller, people are talking again and a nationwide clean-up is taking place. Plus, I'm going to visit Ireland soon, something I haven't done in years. Which means soda bread, Taytos and red lemonade....words cannot explain my excitement. Yes, I will be coming back 5 stone heavier, but my god it'll be worth it!

Peace out Reader!
Ash
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Middle class suburbia turns into not so much

Ok. So I live in North London. Which generally makes people think I'm posh. At the moment, it makes people worry for my life. Why? Because we're under attack. On Saturday Wood Green got attacked. I didn't hear too much about it so assumed the shops would be fine by Sunday. Went to go get a suit with The Lad on Sunday and the entire high street was cordoned off, buildings had been trashed, walls had been torn down, windows smashed. It was like walking through the set of 28 Days Later. All of the buses back home had stopped, so our usual 329 journey home that takes 20 mins, took almost 2 hours. On the diverted bus, we encountered some of the fuck-wits that had been at the riots the night before, who were still drunk and high on violence, one only sixteen years old. They jeered and yelled the whole journey, winding each other up, a girl in the group urging them to fight. Eventually, they got off the bus, the sixteen year old was knocked unconscious onto the pavement by a thuggish 30 something in full view of everyone on the vehicle, and the driver drove off as fast as he could (and for those that would claim that the riots were just black people, all of this group were white. It's not about race, it's about people being thick as pig shit and badly raised). Usually he would have stopped and called the police, but not in the tense atmosphere that we were all part of.  I grew up in Tottenham, my Grandparents still live there, and have been scared to leave their house since the riots. They couldn't even go to church on Sunday, because all the roads were closed and there were burnt out cars everywhere. That's not right.

But we thought it was over.

Then last night, the violence moved even closer to home. Twitter was buzzing with news and pictures of a car on fire in Gentleman's Row, people looting HMV and G. Mantella *a small jewellery shop*. It was rumoured that Nandos and Krispy Kreme were ablaze (now we know that they had 'just' been looted) The retail park had also been targeted. Throughout the night we heard sirens and helicopters, till it finally died down at about 11.30. This afternoon my brother went to the town to see if he could help with the clean up but was advised to come back almost straight away as police reports were saying that gangs of teenagers were heading to Palmers Green, and then to Winchmore Hill. Which is a small suburb where I live. It is now very very quiet outside. Normally you can hear cars but it's weirdly quiet for a Monday evening, apart from the odd police helicopter above. There's a sense of waiting to see what happens. My brother's weirdly hyper, it's the first time anything this dramatic has ever happened to close to him.

Not sure how tonight will go. Mixed rumours of youths in Broomfield and Grovelands' parks, some say they're leaving, some say they're heading out to do damage. Fingers crossed?

On a happier note I had an interesting time today doing a bit of Mystery Shopping. Minimum wage, but the easiest job ever! Back to the call centre tomorrow though, doh! Lovely lunch with The Lad today too, now we're all snuggled up, watching things on the internet and trying to ignore Benji the cat who's raging his own riot against my bedroom door.

Keep safe Reader!
Ash
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You can tell I'm happy by the cartoon birdies...

Reader, I must apologise. I have been re-reading some of my most recent entries, and dear god, I've been boringly down in the dumps. But I am in such a better mood now! I think it's a combo of all the goat's cheese I've been eating and the sunshine and the avoiding nasty processed crap, but I feel sickeningly happy. All is well in Ash-land this week, I've had a whole collection of skinny days (most girls' idea of heaven), I get to eat chocolate every day, I'm seeing my girlfriends on Friday for dinner and drinks, I get to make cakes during the day with my adorable child-minding charges, I'm getting a new phone on Monday (a HTC Sensation in case you were interested) PLUS I'm having a dinner party on Saturday.

 Now, dinner party is perhaps stretching it, it's more having a couple of people over to eat vast amounts of cheese and potato, but still. Now, throwing dinner parties isn't something I do every week Reader, don't get me wrong, but I do love it. The excuse to bake lots of cakes is always good (and yes, even though there will only be 7 of us MAXIMUM I'm still making 3 kinds of cake). And they're people I practically never get the chance to see, let alone impress with my mad skillz in the kitchen. Now obviously I will be spending a whole two days in front of a stove and have had to take a day off work (lucky I am babysitting that day also so it will not be utterly devoid of the quids) but it is SO utterly worth it for the noises of munching and delight that will occur on Saturday.

Am watching a lot of a Vlogger called Katersoneseven on youtube at the moment. She's really addictive to watch, so give it a go. She's basically an English girl in America and she reminds me a lot of my circle of friends. I'd very much like to hang out with her, because she is awesome and very fun. This is unlikely to happen because she lives in America, and is a famous Vlogger, and also mainly because I don't know her even a little bit, but still. Katers, if you're reading this: you are one cool jelly bean, let's be buddies.

And with that fan moment all done,
Bye bye!
Ash
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THANK GOD FOR SEEDS!

Reader, I come to you today a far happier being. It seems that the 'full fat diet' that my mum has me on is working, because I am in a frankly delightful mood despite a summer cold, a 6.10am rise, sore feet and the prospect of work tomorrow. Is this all it takes to cheer up? Eating full fats and roasted seed mixes sprinkled liberally on everything? Well, whatever it is, I certainly approve. Onward!

I feel it would be a little churlish to avoid mentioning the strange and wonderful weather we've been having of late. Blaring sun, thunder and lightning and air that's so thick it's like walking through soup? This isn't England, surely? Have we all been transported overnight to Spanish waters, as a ploy by the Government to distract us from the economic depression? It's working if that is indeed the case. You win this time. One thing I'm not so keen on are the swarms of storm ants who seem to have taken over the world. The Metro said it's like a massive one night stand for the ants. How dare they? Come to my garden and have a massive orgy. That's shocking! If I did it, I'd be arrested! How is it ok for storm ants to go and create shag piles all over the place? What do they even do? Are they useful in some way? Are they normal ants for 10 months of the year but over the 2 potentially hot ones they grow wings and post adverts for 'fun, friendship and maybe more' in the back pages of The Sun?

Just asking.

Went for a costume fitting today for a period film I might be doing a bit of supporting actor work on *think extra work, only one step up* and was amazed by how many people of all shapes and sizes were there. Literally no two looked the same. It was like they'd gone 'one of each of every type of person please!' and then squished them all in the Spotlight building to get their waist measurements written down (I am slightly sore, since the very nice woman who took mine did not measure the smallest part of my waist so made it sound like I am enormously fat. I am definitely not.) Very good larks though, and will be great if I get to do the job, which would mean lots of lovely money in September (HUZZAH!) not earned sitting in front of a computer selling wine.

Right, I'm off, my room's a tip, so better make it habitable before The Lad returns!
From a much better mooded
Ash
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