Running scared...

Ok Reader, so I promised that if we got over £700 on the sponsorship, I'd post a picture of myself post run. Well, We're about £8 away from £1000, so it looks like I might have to put that picture up a little sooner than I'd hoped. I was slightly hoping that by the time it came to post the picture, I'd have run so much I'd be seriously skinny and the photo would show me gleaming with health (sweat), washboard abs and a bottom you could bounce a penny off. Unfortunately, no one told me running makes you really hungry. So I'm now just sweaty and a bit fat (not helped by all the yummy recipes on Pinterest). Which isn't quite what I was hoping, but sod it, at least I can run for 5km now without dying.

The thing is, I know it's an impossible dream, but I'd love to be able to be really slim for a long period of time. I've done it before, it's incredibly difficult and bloody boring being on 1200 calories a day or something ridiculous like that, but I looked flipping amazing in clothes and out of them. The problem is, I'm a foodie and I hate having to say no to delicious food just to fit into a size 8, and I'm also really social, which rarely goes hand in hand with eating healthily. I was dreaming that just by running a few times a week I'd suddenly be at my 'happy weight', but since that's not happened, I guess I'll have to make do with being fast and strong. Which is pretty ok. Maybe I'll cut down on all the buttery toast too...

So today I'll be taking a picture of me after my run to show you all just how heinous running for 40 minutes is for a slightly unfit, size 12 asthmatic. It will be from the shoulders up. It will still be dire. Keep an eye out for my next entry and it will appear there.

In other news, the count down has well and truly started for mine and The Lad's holiday! Two and a half weeks to go...brilliant! I intend to bring my running shoes with me and do some early morning running before the heat of the day kicks in. Then I can eat all the yummy Cyprus food I fancy! (Oh dear...let's face it Reader, I may never be truly thin if this is my mentality!)

I've also written another blog for the lovely people at casting website ThePageUk.com, which you can access here:http://thepageuk.tumblr.com/tagged/actorsworking It's about a bit of a dodgy experience I had fairly recently (and I promise, there's no running or dieting talk in that one!)

Tarrah chaps!
Ash
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Half-girl-half-mattress...

Reader, I am EXHAUSTED. In the past 3 nights, I have slept in three different beds, in three different parts of England. I have taken 4 trains, made 3 underground trips, one car ride and 4 taxi rides. I have been visited by a toddler, who I didn't get to see, but did hear having a loud chat with the air at 2 in the morning, was awakened by a man in his pants, horrified an old lady into switching seats, attended a hen do, went to a wedding, fell in love with a kitten and went shoe shopping with The Lad. I'm pretty sure my limbs have all gone on strike, I have suitcases under my eyes and I've found confetti in places confetti just shouldn't be.

It was a jolly good weekend.

The hen party was that of my old uni sister from another mister (and housemate of 3 years) Jague. Now, I haven't seen Jague much since we left uni. She's been becoming a teacher, I've been at drama school and working and I'm hopeless at organising anything, so only get to see her very rarely, but dear god I love that girl. She introduced me to some of my favourite musicals, helped me through some hard times and brought me fags and chocolate when I was poor and sad. Utter hero of a woman (and gorgeous with it too). The hen party was fab (although the vast majority of the hens were hungover from a pre-hen do the night before-I don't know how they coped with the early afternoon cocktails!) and I got to meet lots of Jague's friends who I'd heard many tales of, plus see some of my old uni friends who I haven't seen in an age (including Jeffers, who has the most rock and roll life of anyone I know, Crouchey who shares my love of trash tv, and Hannah, who is essentially my more grown up twin and who my mother wants to adopt-Hannah is pretty open to the idea too), went on an old fashioned carousel with the entire hen party, discovered lime daiquiri is the best thing since pina colada (which I also had, yum!), ate so much tapas (served by a fabulously sexy lady called Lolita) that I nearly burst, and then boogied the night away in the head bridesmaid 's living room, surrounded by pictures of willies and lots of cake (I made tiny wedding cakes with pink sparkly icing and jam fillings! Next time I think I may do the same but with lemon curd filling and a lemon cream topping...mmm). The next morning it was off to a beach-side cafe, where sadly I had to leave before the food arrived (it smelt AMAZING) to catch my train, but the weather was fab and the girls looked set for a great day on the beach!

After three hours on the train, I arrived in gorgeous Surrey, all dolled up in a fifties dress, heels and toting my suitcase and cake tin. The wedding was a) the first I've ever been to of my friendship group and b) the first me and The Lad have ever gone to together. Reader, I cried like a baby. The bride (an old director and friend of mine) was so stunning that the groom did a double take when she reached the front. There were wildflowers and candles and the sun even came out for the day! The grounds of this place were gorgeous too, we spent a lot of time wandering around and talking about what our wedding will be like (when we get round to it) and who we'd have as our bridesmaids and groomsmen (for the record...our wedding is going to be friggin amazeballs). The food was amazing too, and The Lad and I got to sit on a table with a couple of the boys I did my play in Camden with a few years ago, and who I'll be working with again over the winter months on a new exciting play, and we had great fun over the delicious dinner and wine. And I got talking to a very cool vegan girl who gave me lots of great recipe ideas! After that we had to dash away for our train. On which I kept falling asleep (SO tired). I'm still pretty exhausted now actually, but have been in bed for most of the afternoon, so hopefully tomorrow I'll be fighting fit!

Ooh, and I mentioned the kitten didn't I? This morning we were awakened by a strange noise, so The Lad went to investigate then came down, shoved his dressing gown at me and went 'YOU NEED TO GO UPSTAIRS' so I did (looking rather a state), and met the cutest, tiniest three week old kitten ever. She was abandoned in a garden by her mother and The Lad's housemate (a veterinary nurse) had brought her home since the surgery was closed for the day. It was love at first sight. Am trying to talk the parents into adopting her but am having very little luck. She kept crawling under my chin and falling asleep. Too damn cute for words.

Right, I'm off to collapse now, and dream of kittens and weddings
Night Reader!
Ash
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The first of many

Reader, I have about 6 blog entries I need to write. This is mainly my own fault for not writing one for so long, but then between trying to earn money, looking after my family, keeping my relationship in a happy place and feeding my ever growing Pinterest addiction, there hasn't been much time for typing up my thoughts and ideas. But I have realised that when I don't write them down, they are a lot harder to keep coherent in my brain, so I shall make much more of an effort to update weekly. Apologies for the long absence. Again.

So...updates!

The week before last was ridiculously full. Maybe I should make headings? That way I won't end up just mixing everything up in a big haze of bleh. Here goes..

Buffy on a big screen


So the lovely (and jaw droppingly young to be so wise) SJ had a birthday. As she works in a cinema, I found myself spending my Sunday night dressed as a geek in oversized glasses watching one of my childhood  favourites, Buffy 'Once more with feeling' (AKA the musical episode for those not acquainted with the series) on a big screen. Along with people dressed as Hans Solo, Lol Cat, My Drunk Kitchen and that masked guy from Watchmen whose name I can't spell (Rawshak? Raushack? Bollocks. I could look it up, but it's almost more fun not knowing.) Bloody brilliant. It reminded me of how good a role model Buffy (and indeed the majority of women in the series) is for young girls. I feel a bit sorry for the current generation of tweens actually. I mean...they have Bella in Twilight. I had a kick ass teenage vampire slayer. Who still found time to look after her mum and sister and do her homework. And choose bad men, not because they intrigued her with their sparkly male enigma-ness, but because if they took a step out of line, she was perfectly capable of breaking their pretty little necks. And because they were pretty (Oh Spike! Be still my beating heart! That awful accent....that gelled peroxide hair!) On reading The Hunger Games of late though, I was struck by the thought that Katniss kicks quite a bit of bum too. But there are only three books. Ideally, we need a weekly TV show with a strong female role model. I want my 8 year old cousin Daisy to aspire to fight her own battles, not to hope she'll be rescued in the nick of time by some randomer on a horse...

Retraining


Because the lovely fruit and veg account I was on at work has suddenly and unexpectedly downsized (major bummer), I spent much of the week before last training to go back on wines. I very nearly died of dull. It's not that the subject matter is boring, on the contrary, I'm actually quite into finding out about stuff like that. It's more that I did the exact same training nearly a year ago. And although it's very much needed, it was all stuff that in my heart of hearts, I knew. So although my brain needed to hear it so it could remember, it was also going 'uber yawn...I've HEARD this before!' I'm hoping that soon I'll get a nicely paid acting job that will take me away from the dreaded phonelines for a few months at least. Or maybe I'll get a promotion so I'll have to talk to people on the phones less. I am quite possibly developing a phobia of talking on the phone, having worked at the office for a year (in between various acting projects). Going away for four months to do my tour actually made it harder to come back I think! Having done something I adore for so long, going back to the daily monotony of phoning people was like going back to jail after a holiday in the sun. And speaking of holiday in the sun...

Holiday


An exciting thing has happened! I've just booked my first ever holiday with just me and The Lad (apart from our two nights in a dodgy Britannia hotel in Brighton last year, which was lovely, but more mini-break than holiday). In September we'll be spending a whole week in sunny Cyprus, eating nice food, lounging by a pool, dozing in the sun, frolicking in the sea and generally hanging out. I am so excited that I've already started making a list of the perfect holiday capsule wardrobe. It will be a short list since I'm only allowed to bring hand luggage, but I feel this means it's essential to get planning early. I'm even getting a Kindle so I can bring loads of books and not have to worry about not having room for clothes! Can't wait!

Film festival


A film I made got featured in The East End Film Festival! And people seemed to like it! There was applause and everything! There was a bit of a scary minute when my sex scene came on (I'm always worried I'll overhear someone talking about how mad my sex face/noises are in it) but everyone seemed to just take it as part of the film. And no one noticed me giggling nervously into my shirt and hiding my face while it was being shown, so I didn't look too uncool. Hopefully. There were so many great shorts that night, it made me really excited about the short I'm writing at the moment, about which you'll probably hear quite a bit more over the next year or so, but for now, I'm keeping mum.

Dreams


Coming back to the callcentre has made my dream life go crazy. At the moment I'm having vivid dreams every night about everything from primary school, to exploring alien planets, to cooking, to The Lad, to family, to little ruby babies with rabbit ears, to castles in the sky, to eco systems and worlds based around having water fountains everywhere, to weddings (of which I will be attending a lot next month), to acting, to poems by Blake, to dragons with opal stone scales. I'm not complaining because they're brilliantly interesting dreams, but they're a bit mad. It's like my daily working life is so boring now that my dream life has to be super interesting in comparison. Lets hope soon I have an acting job I can flood it all into!

Spiderman


I saw Spiderman. I kind of expected to hate it. But I loved it. I cried. Rhys was brilliant and green. I'm a little in love with Andrew Garfield right now (super strong, super cute, has big eyes and floppy hair, brings you flowers and stutters a little? Erm....yes please. Also, his and Emma Stone's on screen kisses look HAWT). On a less teenage crushy level, Garfield is a great actor. I saw him years ago at the National playing an American kid thrust into a massacre abroad and he was off the charts brilliant. He gives Spiderman something that I felt Toby Magwire lacked, a kind of teenage boy appeal that is very truthful (despite him actually being older than me). He gets bruised and battered, he can't form words without a slight lisp appearing, he walks like he's only just shot up to six foot whatever and still isn't used to it and he has a charming teenagey clumsiness to him. And Aunt May! She's so much more interesting in this film. In the last set, I always felt like she was a very 2D image, in this film they don't offer huge amounts of back story to her, but the relationship between her and her husband is so real and silly and touching that the tragedy (trying not to spell it out for anyone who somehow doesn't know what happens) is a huge blow when it actually happens. The mystery surrounding Peter's parents was also great and left me wanting more. The inevitable Stan Lee cameo was hilarious. In fact, the only thing I didn't like about the film was the teaser after the credits. It felt poorly structured and rather than exciting me about the next film (as the Avengers teaser did) it felt like an unnecessary nod to the fact that they still hadn't rounded off the narrative. Apart from that, damn fine show.

Fringe


I have a fringe now.

I guess that's about it for now! Hopefully there will be another post from me tomorrow eve, quite possibly about the family day I'm going to be having!
Tarrah Reader!
Ash
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Guess who's back?

Hey Reader, sorry about the long blogging absence, I've been back from the tour since Sunday and as you can probably imagine it's been a bit of an adjustment period. In fact, I'm still adjusting. To the extent that I can't quite bring myself to go put my suitcase upstairs because I feel like I'm going to be on the train to East Anglia again tomorrow. But no, am officially a jobbing actor again. I should really go on holiday and have a rest or something, am so run down I look like a meth addict/hag who lives in a cave and eats eels but I'm really really poor at the mo, so that's not looking too likely. The Lad might be going on holiday with his friends, and thus will probably have to endure quite a massive sulk from me, given that we were supposed to be going away together but then he decided he wanted to go abroad for the summer and work (nope, that never happened, interviews for his PGCE had to take precedence, understandably). If it ends up with me being stuck in England and him prancing off somewhere balmy with his mates, I will be rather grumpy. I may be forced to spend some of my savings (for our future home together) and go off by myself on a cheapo last minute deal. Or (more likely, given my skintness) go and spend a while in my friend's house in eastbourne, having no heating but being able to go swimming in the sea at night after a few cocktails and eating chips out of greasy paper every day. Actually...that sounds like just the ticket...

Going back to work has been pretty weird too. On top of being so exhausted I can't hold a logical conversation, the whole of my floor is full of people I don't know, talking about how great and flexible the job is. Ok, so they're right. It is flexible. But I've been there on and off for a year now, and every time there's a new batch of workers, they say the same thing. Within a month it's all doom and gloom. And then a new batch come in, etc. I've slightly turned into a grumpy old biddy, crowing 'you'll learn!' at them in my head as I try and resist (and usually fail) the temptation of the vending machine.

I'll be back to my usual, irritatingly optimistic ways soon, after lots more chocolate and sleep. Till then, I apologise to anyone I snap at, I just have post-tour blues!

Before I go, I HAVE to tell you about the mad thing that just happened to me! I'd just jumped in the bath and dipped my head under when there was a positively FRIGHTFUL hammering at the door and ringing of the bell. Thinking my mum had forgotten her keys and had a work call to make, I leapt out of the bath, wrapped myself in a big old towel and legged it downstairs. Not my mother however. Nope, a massive Caribbean post man holding a parcel to be signed for. He sort of leered at me and went 'no school today then?' To be fair, the towel was hiding all my curvy bits and make up free, I look absurdly young, but still, I'm 24! 'Nope, bit old for that Mate' I said as I took the parcel and went to close the door to I could retire back to my bath 'Just my luck!' He letched 'Come for a drink with me tonight'. Reader, I've already told you I'm a moody cow at the moment. I just went 'NO, My bath is running, BYE.' and almost slammed the door in his face. But seriously! If I look so young that he thinks I should be in uniform then what on earth is he doing asking me out? The bloke was in his thirties! At the absolute oldest he must have assumed I was 18, but I have a sneaky suspicion he thought I was more like 15. Also, I'm in a towel, which makes me massively vulnerable, how dare he proposition me like that at my own door?! Where is his sense of professionalism? What a creep. Needless to say, double lock went on the door after that and I'll be ignoring the bell next time I'm in a towel, even if I'm SURE it's one of the family needing to be let in! 

On that creepy note Reader, I'm off to dry my hair!
Toodles!
Ash
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Insert exercise pun here...

Reader, exercise and I do not mix. I did a zumba class yesterday and now my abs are in AGONIES. So much so that I can't go from a laying down position to a sitting position using just my tummy muscles. I have to pull myself up with my arms, all the while going 'ooohhhhhhh ow ow ow ow' and looking like I'm chewing on a lemon. It probably didn't help that I then did a run this morning, but I felt like I had to take advantage of the new treadmill Mum's invested in whilst I'm in London, before the next segment of the tour on Tuesday, which will (as ever) involve eating out. And whilst I love eating out, I've put on just under half a stone since rehearsals for the tour began and I want to get back to my 'I'm so skinny I can wear a bikini' weight. Because it's smug-making. And I can wear the section of my wardrobe that gets ignored most of the time due to it being slim fitting.

But now I'm suffering after ages of not exercising followed by two big old bouts one day after another. My body was made for baking and pillocking around on a stage, not running in trainers or shaking my booty to r&b 'choons'! The Lad currently has severe manflu but I am the one who can't sit up without assistance, so I am getting all of the attention. And pillows. Mwa ha ha. My aim is to do another run early Tuesday morning, before I have to catch my train, so hopefully my body will have repaired itself before then. I'm sure chocolate must be a cure for this sort of thing. Right? If not, I may have to eschew the running for some nice gentle yoga. And hot baths.

In other news, I am off to see SJ tomorrow, and we're returning to Bea's of Bloomsbury, which has now got a diner! We're hopefully going to be doing a mini review (much like our cake reviews, only this one will probably be back in the old format of being blogged rather than vlogged), so keep your eyes peeled. After that am planning to go visit my lovely Irish grandparents, who are then going back to Ireland till the end of May, when they'll be coming to see my show! Huzzah! It's so nice having family in the audience, because you know there'll be friendly faces to come out to at the end. And drinks bought for you after of course!

Alight chaps, The Lad is coughing something dreadful, so I'm going to force some fisherman's friends down his gullet. If I can get myself in a sitting position that is. Ouch.
Ash
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Ash....SMASH!

Reader, as you can probably tell from the title of this entry, I recently saw Avengers Assemble. And it was bloody brilliant. What is there not to love about a superhero movie featuring Mark Ruffalo (BEST HULK EVER!), Robert Downey Jr. (I want to steal him away so he can sit in my room being snarky about everything), Tom Hiddleston as the lovably naughty Loki (you just can't hate him. He's too funny...) and Chris Hemsworth (...dribble...)?

Oh yeah. Scarlett Johansson playing Black Widow. Bleh. Ok, so I know some of you will be going 'you're just jealous' and to an extent, you'd be right. I am extremely jealous. I mean HELLO best superhero movie ever? I'd KILL to do that! But there's also more to it than that. Firstly, why does the only female Avenger have to be-let's face it-not a real super? She is essentially a ninja/spy who's a bit crap at hiding who she is. Plus, there's all the 'oh yeah, she's a girl, she's sexy'. Ok. We get it. Ladies have curvy figures. But how insulting that she once uses the tear ploy (my superpower is pretending to be sad!) and once uses letting people beat her up to get information out of them? And how comes she doesn't get to be funny? Every other character has humour to them. She gets one, really pathetic line about parties. Some could say that's the Russian sense of humour. I say it's poor female character building. One more piece of criticism before I move on: The American accent. Maybe fanboys/girls of the comics can help me out here as Black Widow is a relatively unknown character to me, but she's supposed to be Russian, right? So where's the accent. There's mention of her having her brain messed with, was it a side effect? So yeah, not terribly impressed by that element of the film. Also, I met her once and she's kind of bitchy in real life.

Not all women in the film are irritating though. Gwyneth shone (hurrah! An intelligent female character!) as Pepper Potts and Cobie Smulders was a delight every time she spoke (So much so that I wanted to see her on screen much much more...no pandering there!)

The thing is, I'd really like to see a female super on screen that isn't entirely crap. Let's face it, Wonderwoman as an idea is wonderful but is essentially all about the body, although I'm completely intrigued to see how they'll handle that one (if it's made into a respectable character that at least nods towards her feminist, Amazonian past and doesn't use her feminine wiles constantly, I'll be satisfied). Personally, I want to play SheHulk. Now THERE'S a character I can get my teeth into. Just to say 'SHE HULK SMASH!'  I'd also love to see Zatana hit up the big screen, her comics always seem to hit the perfect balance.

To be honest though, all the feminist stuff didn't distract that much from the utterly brilliant filmwork going on. I loved the interplay between the characters, the one liners were spectacular, it was fabulous for a relatively superficial comic geek like me but also for The Lad, who prays at the temples of Forbidden Planet and Orbital comics every Wednesday to get his fix. I came out with a massive smile on my face, quoting lines and still drooling a bit from Chris Hemsworth. The Lad is convinced that I am, much like Chris Evans, someone sent from the past, because I understood all of the same references that he jumped on, and I needed to pee for the final half hour but didn't leave the screen. For me, that's pretty much a first. Usually I'm not that fussed about missing two seconds of a film, but with this one it would have felt like a real loss.

Now, this was just going to be a blog about the film, but given that today was the elections, I can't go without mentioning how ashamed I am of my generation in terms of voting. There are countries out there where people don't have the chance to vote, or where their voting is completely disregarded. In some, women aren't allowed to vote yet, in others people are killed for their political beliefs. And here we have one of the lowest turn outs for years. I mean seriously?! Are our citizens that disillusioned with democracy? Ok, so we didn't have an Obama standing for Mayor of London this year (I wish). But at least vote to make sure UKIP don't get it. The BNP featured a racist reverend talking about 'fighting the threat of Islam' for goodness sake. At least vote so THAT doesn't get in! And I'm sorry, but you can't complain about the cost of the tube, or congestion charge, or your STREETLIGHTS not working if you don't vote for your local MP. Who do you think is in charge of this stuff? We vote them in. By majority. I know who I voted for, I know if they got in and did a crap job, I'd only have myself to blame. I also know that if a party I didn't vote for got in, I'd at least feel like I'd done all I could by voting for someone I believed in. But the crap I've heard over the past month or so about the elections really beggars belief. Here are a few titbits, overheard from strangers, friends and (oh lord) family,

• 'I'm voting Boris, cause he's SUCH a joker!' Brilliant, well done. That's just what we want. Guess how much your monthly travelcard is? HAHA!
• 'I'm not voting, because I don't like any of the parties' Really? None of them? Or just the main three? You do understand that one of them will still get in though right? And it might be the one you hate the most!
• 'I don't really understand why the BNP have such a bad name. My parents vote for them, and they're not racist' Uhm....what?!
• 'It's just one vote, it's not like it makes a difference' Funny, that's what everyone else said...
• 'I'm not really directly affected by these elections' Oh I'm sorry, do you not take public transport? Or drive? Or pay tax? Or rent? Or get benefits of any kind? Or LIVE?

Sorry to be a sarcastic susan Reader, but it really does peeve me the way some people throw their vote out the window. People have died for us to have the vote. Why would you be that blasé about it? And on that note, I'm off to go check the election results...gulp...

Ash

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My coconutty confession...

Reader, I am a terrible person. Why? When I got back from tour the other day, there was a full Tupperware container full of my favourite Irish biscuits, sort of a soft base with coconut covered pink marshmallow layered on top with a strip of neon red jam in the middle (it looks vaguely naughty from certain angles, but I've only just worked that out from trying to describe it without it sounding like a lady's secretive parts). Now the Tupperware is empty. For a while, I tried to convince myself that other people had been eating them too, but I must face the truth. It was me. I ate at least 15 biscuits in two days without really realising. I have a wheaty food baby and am on a strange sugar high and I'm pretty sure I've smeared marshmallow somewhere on my hair that will only be discovered when at the newsagent's tomorrow. This is also not the first time this has happened. By a long shot.

There was also the time I accidentally ate all the Christmas chocolate coins. All four bags. My reasoning was that it was officially after Christmas so I should really be congratulating myself. And before I knew it, all of the coins were buried treasure. And the time I melted down all my Eggs to make into fridge cake, so I could share it round and save myself from the calories. Silly idea, without the foil in the way there was nothing stopping me. The poor, innocent little fridge cake lasted less than a day. The Lad insists he only had three chunks, but surely he must be fibbing...

The thing is, I'm very good at sort of inhaling food. If it was a contest, I'd be an Olympic gold medalist. In fact, if they made it part of the games, I'm pretty sure I'd be able to give Britain a chance of winning this year. It's why I tend not to have nice treat food in the house. Because I don't realise I'm eating it until it's gone. And then I mourn it's absence. When there's only healthy food in the house, I eat very healthily. The other night at The Lad's new flat I had low fat aubergine bake. With no dessert. And no carbs. Ok, so I may have slightly grumbled about it, but I survived and was probably all the better for it. When I have my own place, there are certain foods that will just have to be outlawed. They are the following:

1) Bread-because if drunk enough or hormonal enough, I could eat a whole loaf.

2) Chocolate-obviously

3) Crisps-because I always think-oh, I'll just have half the bag, and then I eat the whole thing and sit in a smug salty pile of chubbiness.

4) Supernoodles-too easy to eat for a lazy lump like me (as in 'Hmmm....I could make a healthy tofu stir fry with all these veg....or I could have supernoodles on toast.....')

5) Chocolate or Honey nut based cerial-because I will treat it as a non-real-food product. In other words, consume it like air.

6) Biscuits-I think as the first paragraph mentions, I can't be trusted not to eat all of them by accident in one sitting

7) Salted nuts-See crisps

8) Dried Pineapple-even if massively healthy version. Have a strange addiction to it and WILL work my way through a family sized bag if left to my own devices.

9) Nutella-we had some in the house once, and then I discovered how good it was on a spoon and it vanished very very quickly

10) Processed cheese and onion pastries-don't judge me!

The fact is, if I have healthy food in the house, I am a very clever cook. I make a mean spicy ratatouille. And my garlic leeks in low fat cream cheese are sensational on top of a jacket potato or just with a bowl of greens. I do things to aubergine that make them taste like something that should be very very bad for you and I know how to make pancakes low fat. But I am a sucker for nasty, sugar filled, salt drenched, abjectly fake food. I think I may have to accept that my addiction to fatty fabulousness is just part of who I am and be proud of it. After all, everything in moderation, right?

Now I just have to work out how to shift the blame about those biscuits...
Ash
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Lurgy Continued...

Reader, this illness malarkey is getting a bit dull. I stayed home from work today because my head feels full of cotton wool and I keep feeling like my bones might break beneath me, so I'm going to be royally skint for a fair while. The Lad was going to take me out to the cinema but once I'd got my make up on and skinny jeans zipped up, I was too knackered to do anything other than lay on the sofa and watch season two of Made In Chelsea (and then get weakly jealous of them). Now I'm in bed, because sitting upright felt too difficult and my head got really heavy and fuzzy.

I am not feeling quite myself.

I need to get better, because tomorrow morning brings a meeting with a potential new agent and then searching for a present for my eight year old cousin's Communion (don't want to get here anything too religious, because I'm not and it would be hypocritical, but feel a bottle of whiskey and some fags might be pushing it). If I get home early enough, I've got lots of emailing to do too, I just hope I have the energy for it after the excitement of being in Central London of a day! I may have to slink back into bed and just sleep through the afternoon to be honest. Or watch Caggie and crew go spend loads of cash on MIC.

On that note Reader, I'm going to doze off and hopefully dream of being born a biscuit empire heir,
Ash
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Anniversary, long distance.

Reader, yesterday was mine and The Lad's third anniversary. Three whole years of being together! Neither of us can remember if it marks the date we first kissed or the date he asked me to be his girlfriend 'so...Erm...do you want to be boyfriend and girlfriend or something?' 'Let's see shall we?' (Yes reader, I was the ice bitch from hell when we got together), but the anniversary is still quite a big deal I reckon. Last year we went to Brighton on a mini break together and ate lots of cake and played on the beach all day. This year, not only are we both skint but I'm away on tour, so we couldn't be together over the weekend. And, like on valentines day, I was somehow surrounded by couples again! Bad luck. This time round though, they're all rather lovely couples that I actually know, rather than random pashing teens in central norwich. Better luck! And one of the female halves of one of the couples made me a gorgeous veggie carbonara, so I will of course be forever be in her debt! Then I watched jaws. You know, cause, sharks.

We are going to celebrate, but we only have one evening to do so, when I'll have been travelling all day and will have to to go the call centre the next day to attempt to earn a bit of cash so my phone bill doesn't bankrupt me, so it may be a bit of a tame one. No swinging from the light fittings at the electric ballroom etc. Probably more like eating pasta and watching a film in bed and catching up after not seeing each other for a week and a half. Which is rather nice really isn't it! Maybe next year we'll do something really exciting. If he's not sick of me by then, obviously!

Today is Easter Sunday (a whole weekend of excitement), so I celebrated by eating a caramel egg in bed then making my cast pancakes. I now feel like a rather bouncy inflated whale toy. I did have an actual Easter egg from home, but since I have no willpower, I broke the egg and pulled it through the little window at the front (because if you don't open the box, the calories don't count, blates.). No willpower at all. Not a trace. If i can, I might pop into church at some point today and light some candles for my family. The last vestiges of catholicism are driving me in! Note to self-call grandmother...

Right, I'm going to go wrap up and have a nice long walk on the beach,
Happy easter folks!
Ashx

Off again off again jiggedy jig...

Reader, I have been atrocious at blogging recently, for which I can only apologise. It's quite tough to find the time (and internet) on tour and when I'm at home I tend to be trying to fit in seeing friends and family, doing some hours at the call centre so I can pay my phone bill and travel card and hanging out with The Lad as much as possible. As such, things like blogging, exercising and going to the doctors have all been left by the wayside! And now I'm about to go back off on tour for another week and a half. Blimey! What a busy life I do lead. Tomorrow I'll be performing in a completely enormous theatre just outside of Manchester, a slightly terrifying thought given that it's a weekday and the biggest venue we've performed at so far. Hopefully Manchester is Dickens friendly and the theatre will somehow sell out. Come on theatre gods, please let that happen! Just think of the profit share...yes please!

In other news, my 8 year old cousin just had her first big audition, for a yoghurt advert on the telly! And she got a recall! Proud cousin over here. Although obviously will be highly bitter if she wins a bafta at 8 years old. Although I won't show it. I'll just scheme and plot in silence like some medieval royal who's younger relative is more loved by the public than them. The tower of London may get involved. I'm currently very aware that once the tour is done I have nothing lined up acting wise. I am having a slight actor's panic. I have tentatively applied to a show that's happening right after mine's finishing, and a couple of film jobs, but so far, no cigar. Bums. Such is the life of an actor though! Constantly slightly anxious about where the next job will come from and how you'll pay your rent. Ideally I need something really well paid to come along so that I won't have to panic quite as much and can focus on doing workshops at the Actor's Centre rather than trudging into the call centre. I am being slightly ridiculous as the show doesn't actually finish till June, but I like to know that there's more stuff waiting in the wings (as, I suspect, does every actor on earth). Mastercard ads pay quite well don't they? Can someone get me one of those?

The tour is going brilliantly though. Teaching me all manner of things and luckily I have a lovely cast who are huge amounts of fun to hang out with. It's sort of like living The Famous Five (if they were all actors and quite a bit older. And if there were loads more of them). Last week we stayed on a country estate in the middle of nowhere, so posh that they had a hunt and served a hot dinner at 5pm sharp every day (meaning that we'd be starving once the show ended at 10.30 and have to load up on buttery toast and left over apple strudel). Pretty awesome stuff. Being on tour also means you get to experience stuff going wrong, which may sound bad, but it's a great way to teach you how to cope on stage if everything goes akimbo. Last week for example, a rather crucial sound effect didn't come in, so my co-actor and I improvised a ten second scene. Terrifying but brilliant fun.And actually, once it's happened once, you don't get afraid of it happening again. because you know you can cope if it does. And you know that you can have a stiff drink after, and joke about it with the cast. Am keeping my fingers crossed that it stays nice and sunny, because at the end of this week we're heading to a little seaside town, and I have my heart set on sunbathing and having a swim! Typically, we've been predicted snow...

My little brother is back for his Easter holls now too! Already there's been an argument about him wearing a smelly t-shirt and his room looks like something's exploded in it. It's lovely having him back though, he's reached the age now where he's fun to hang around with and he knows lots of handy rude words. Although the fact that my younger brother has almost finished his first year at uni makes me feel incredibly old! Maybe I'll get another tattoo...

On that note Reader, I'm off! I haven't actually packed yet...oops...
Ash
x
p.s. ANOTHER couple I know just got engaged. That's 9 couples since new years and it's only march! Has the government released something into the air?!

Growing pains...

Reader, today is my birthday. I have been spoilt within an inch of my life, fed more cheese than the average French person sees in a lifetime and surrounded by glorious pressies. Tonight, I will be feasting on Dominos pizza, whilst watching 30 Rock and going through my facebook messages in what can only be described as an act of delicious vanity. Life is rather marvellous right now.

I was struck the other night  (whilst packing Baklava into my cheeks like a sweet toothed hamster) that the way I celebrate my birthday has changed rather a lot since I was in my late teens. I can only assume I've grown up somehow (meaning the man in the market lied and these magic beans don't hold back the years like he said they would...), a scary thought indeed. So, here is my list of what's changed and what hasn't between how I partied then and how I party now...

1. I no longer find it entirely necessary to compete with sports society boys in alcohol intake. In fact, I'm quite happy with one glass of amaretto on my birthday, because at least then I know I won't a) do anything hideously cringe like vomit over the bouncers or proposition the cardboard cut out of Zac Effron in the Blockbusters window or b) have an utterly catastrophic hangover the next day, which (as my tolerance for booze has got so crap) would have me comatose, able only to reach as far as a bag of Doritos.

2. I am more likely to get vouchers for posh clothes and pampering places rather than WHSmiths. Hurrah!

3. Food has become more important, as I am more likely to be eating healthily the rest of the time.

4. I can afford nicer food! Like fresh pasta instead of supernoodles. And baklava instead of slightly stale asda cookies.

5. Birthdays have become more like New Year's Eve, in that I evaluate how the year's gone and how I want the next year to go. This year I am quite disgustingly smug.

6. I am a bit fatter now than I was then. But thinner than I was when I was twenty. Which is nice.

7. I can no longer stay up all night without needing a serious afternoon nap (or two) the next day. Although I did stay up till 4am on Friday, mainly to watch an utterly atrocious Jude Law film, that was also rather brilliant (mainly because it was so bad, but also because Jude Law is a dreamboat).

8. I have a boyfriend now (take that younger me!)

9. A vast number of my pressies involve kitchenware. I can only take this as a hint to make more cake.

10. My wishlist is more expensive, and more ignored.

11. My little brother gets me far better pressies now. (He got me 4 utterly brilliant DVDs this year, and a proper card! Not just 'happy birthday' written on a post it!)

12. I am less likely to want to go out for my birthday. I will only really go out to our local Italian, where they deep fry Brie and are therefore worthy of my birthday presence. I would go out if it was an exciting surprise or something, but defo not clubbing in London. Anything but. I get too pissed off with the prices, the music and the grimy men trying to grind on me. 'Can I buy you a drink?' 'That depends, will you try to sleep with me after?' 'Uhm....no?' 'Are you sure?' 'Uhm...' 'That girl over there looks single. Go try her. She has a see through top.'

13. House parties seem like hell. Avoid at all costs.

14. No one is free to party on a weekday any more. Everyone has jobs, and husbands (eek!)

15. I no longer have an overdraft (YESSSSS!!!)

So, quite good changes I'd say. Even though to my 18 year old self, I'd probably seem boring, I don't really care! I love my birthdays, lazy and food obsessed though they may be!
Hope you're having a weekend as lovely as I am Reader,
Ash
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Wibble wobble wibble wobble, belly on a plate!

Reader, Norwich is not doing good things for me. In two weeks, I have gone from having close to washboard abs to having a jiggly just-had-twins belly. I blame the really nice food places. And staying with people who know how to cook and do it on a nightly basis. And there being loads and loads of celebrations going on at the mo.

Ideally I need to cut right down on nice food and stick to carrots, slices of lemon and nettle tea. And other such nasty tasting food. This is slightly unlikely since a) tomorrow I am being taken to Norwich's best pizza place and b) there is a massive box of baklava in the kitchen. Both of these things have enormous power over me. Maybe I'll start being healthy again on Tuesday? *sigh* I am destined to be jiggly. The Lad loves me however I look, so long as I have pokemon cards and scratch his back. He is like a cross between an 11 year old and a dog. He is also slightly part of the problem. We celebrated a late Valentines together on Friday, and he made me an enormous chocolate pudding cake (I was impressed!), got me gourmet popcorn and fed me Chinese take away (as well as giving me a stunningly gorgeous bunch of cream tea-roses). The Lad clearly knows me very well. And then it was my lovely Dad's birthday and of course we went to our fave Italian and had deep fried cheese to celebrate! However, by the end of the weekend, I was stretched out with food like the kid in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory who turns into a giant blueberry. Maybe I should try and take up jogging again. And stomach crunches. And eat celery for breakfast. How do A-listers do it? Drugs? I have to say, the thought that they're all on some kind of diet pill that gives them all gross bum-discharge makes me feel slightly happier. All those gorgeous film stars wearing tena lady under their Alexander McQueen dresses, mwa ha ha!

Or maybe they all just say no to the third peanut butter and dark chocolate cookie....whoops....

Oh well. I'm still smaller than most of the shouty american women on Maury. Mostly. And I don't have 18 potential fathers for my unattractive baby, so that's a plus. Maury really is great viewing. If you haven't seen it, it's basically where a middle class grandfather listens to prostitutes talking about red necks and unemployed men being the fathers of their kids, and then when the men say 'uhm....naw....' they start screaming and pointing at an oversized photo of said ugly child going 'Look at these here ears! They HIS ears! Look at this stupid frowny forehead! That HIS forehead! I am TWO BILLION percent positive he's my baby daddy' then the audience does a collective 'booooooo! hiiiiissss! He A PLAYAAAAA' sort of thing. Then when the dna results come out saying that he is not in fact 'the baby daddy', the woman runs off the stage screaming and says she doesn't understand, when it's really all quite simple, she slept with more than one person without a condom, so it's possible it's someone else's problem. Then she comes back on the show 17 times, each time with a different man. I always think at that stage....how on earth did you find the time to have all that sex? Because presumably it had to be within a certain time period if she had a baby by one of them? Of say, three weeks or so? That's practically a man a day! When did she find the time to shave her legs? Or change her bedsheets? And where did she meet them all? I assume that they were not all long term partners, because if so her life would have been highly complicated (well....more highly complicated) and surely they would have mentioned that on Maury. Maury, by the way, usually sits through all this with a sort of pained 'I'm 70 years old, I'd rather be at home with a shortbread biccy watching Golden Girls' and says sensible things like 'why don't you leave that chap that keeps sleeping with transvestite 16 year olds? He's obviously not an ideal match for you' to which the women always go all gooey eyed and say 'but I loooooove him'. This is before they lamp the man in question for cheating on them yet again of course. I once went to be in the audience of Trisha. It wasn't nearly as scandalous, but I won a tee for asking the best question of the day (if you're interested, it was to a girl who was so obsessed with Harry Potter that she was convinced he was real and was saving herself for Daniel Radcliffe. I can't remember what the question was, but it was searing and witty and probably highly political. I got a round of applause and looks of admiration from all round. Trisha invited me round for tea after. This may be a slight exaggeration, but only slightly.)

Anyway, back to rehearsing tomorrow after my lovely weekend. Normally going back to work is a chore after such a great time away at home, but to be honest, I'm loving every second of it! In fact, the director isn't even in tomorrow, so we could have just chilled out in local pubs, but Haversham, Young Pip and I decided to crack on and practice some vaguely dangerous blocking on some stairs and do some line learning. My job is brilliant! Here's a sneak peak at what the show's looking like so far...

Pretty exciting stuff eh? If you want to find out more, go look up the Baroque Theatre Company. I'm not doing your job for you, go, look! It's pretty cool though, you'll kick yourself if you don't come see it. Not that I'm biased or anything. Obviously.

Hope you had a great weekend too Reader!
Ash
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99, 100....READY OR NOT, HERE I COME!

Reader, this is my hundredth blog entry! Can you believe it? No, me neither. Mostly I'm amazed I've been able to come up with so much to write about. And that the vast majority of it has either been about cake or me being, let's face it, a bit of an eejit really. To be entirely honest, I'd sort of forgotten that this was going to be number 100 so didn't plan anything. So, here are 100 things that have happened since I started writing this blog. Well, that's one way to mark it right?

1. I got the part of Estella in a national tour of Great Expectations

2. I puked in a tin bucket outside a medieval church hall. In front of the guy who plays Pip. Yeah, real attractive Estella. He has to pretend to fancy me. Poor sod.

3. I lost over a stone in weight. Which makes me feel smug. But also, terrified that I'll put it all back on again. Which still does not stop me wolfing down chips (mmmmm, chips).

4. I developed a huge girl crush on Tina Fey

5. The Lad moved in with me

6. I graduated from drama school, and therefore now have two of the most useless degrees in the world (English lit and Acting for screen. I mean, seriously, I'm going to have to be an actress, cause who would really employ that in a real walk of life?)

7. I became a Godmother. I am almost certain that I'm doing quite well at being a Godmother, because I have so far introduced my godson to both double choc-chip cookies and Darth Vader costumes for toddlers. And I got him a copy of Dark Crystal (everyone keeps telling me he's too young to watch it, I reply that it never did me any harm, then dash away doing a Skeksis impression.)

8. I dressed up as Amy Pond for a convention. Stop laughing. It was a great costume. Even if my legs did look slightly more like muttony sausages than Karen Gillan's, but to be fair, she was a bloody model before she did Dr. Who! I am not one of those.

9. I turned 23. I am now turning 24 in two weeks (Oh god).

10. I've seen 8 of my friends get engaged. Yes, 8. No, not to each other. 8 sets of couples. I know. Disgusting, isn't it? SLOW DOWN EVERYONE! I DON'T HAVE A BIG ENOUGH WEDDING OUTFIT BUDGET YET!

11. I paid off my overdraft. Mainly by putting my life savings into that account (goodbye dreams of invisalign braces, I will miss you)

12. Went to Ireland. Weather was a bit soft, introduced The Lad to my town, Beaufort, where there are lots of tea shops and pubs.

13. Saw my brother off to uni. Cried, quite unexpectedly.

14. Went to Brighton with The Lad, where we ate such vast amounts we came back with pot bellies that stuck out from under our tees.

15. Spent Christmas with The Lad for the first time ever. Got him so many pressies they wouldn't all fit in one bag. Introduced him to my families way of eating (i.e. eat everything. Then ask for more.)

16. Went to Yorkshire for NYE, was the only one still awake at 12. Got really really ill with the flu, and spent the coach journey home alone, hallucinating.

17. How am I only on 17? I feel like I've been typing FOREVER! Erm, ok, did a lot of babysitting I guess?

18. Got a voice agent

19. Recorded a whole bunch of radio ads. Including the Ereceptionist ad that plays on Absolute London, and drives my friend who works there utterly mad every morning...

20. Was in two music videos. One with lots of Beyonce' style booty shaking (surprisingly hard for a middle class white girl with a pretty flat bum), one with lots of fake blood and gore.

21. Got new glasses. Had to get them from men's department as none of the women's ones suited my large manly face.

22. Did a photoshoot dressed as a female Frankenstein's monster, in a full head prosthetic

23. Discovered I'm not very good at having my face covered in plaster cast, and having to breathe through tiny holes under nose as have panic attacks.

24. Discovered I'm really bloody stubborn and will ignore panic attacks to get the job finished, even if it means nearly breaking a poor make up artists hand whilst trying to regulate breathing through tiny holes under nose.

25. Did my first ever filmed sex scene.

26. Broke my first bed during a sex scene.

27. Discovered that it's highly embarrassing to see yourself faking sex on screen while surrounded by an audience of people you don't know.

28. Worked in a charity call centre.

29. Got fired from a charity call centre.

30. Worked in a call centre selling posh wine.

31. Discover that am quite good at selling posh wine, despite not drinking it. Get made team leader. Overdose my team on Christmas cheer. Threaten to come in dressed as Santa if they start to flag.

32. Get moved on to selling organic veg (not because of harassing team with Christmas cheer. Well, at least I don't think so)

33. Had an operation on my tongue. Sounded like a person with a cleft palate for a week, survived on lucozade and Ben and Jerries Chunky Monkey.

34. Moved to Norwich (from where I am currently writing, is lovely, but I miss The Lad and shops being open on Sundays)

35. Received my end of Drama School report. Ignored it as it was less than useless and didn't have feedback from any of the teachers or directors that I wanted to hear from. Decided to reply on feedback in person from teachers and directors, which was much more useful and less about my 'writing and evaluation' skills (??!!?? I did an ACTING DEGREE!?! WHERE ON THE REPORT DOES IT TALK ABOUT MY ACTING?!)

36. Made a showreel. Edited it. A lot.

37. Saved some money. Spent a lot of it.

38. Sold nearly all my mum's clothes. Made some profit.

39. Someone tried to steal a grand from me. Paypal made them pay (bitch).

40. Contemplated becoming a hooker. Decided against it when someone told me I'd have to do weird things like lick sweaty-man-toes. Not convinced that's the best reason for not doing it, but it's the best reason for me.

41. Got a really cool mentor, saw her in a play. She called me an incredibly talented young woman after seeing my final film and music video. I went beetroot red and stammered a lot about good editing.

42. The Tories came into power (I cried. Actually cried.)

43. The riots happened, round the corner from me. My 18 year old brother tried to go 'calm things down'. My mother locked him in his room. Quite right.

44. Had my first ever major health scare. Was fine. Big relief. Decided if I ever actually have anything seriously wrong with me, will go private after god-awful experience with NHS nurses and hospitals.

45. Went to my first ever wedding fair. There was a lot less cake than I was expecting.

46. Worked outside, flyering in December. Was colder than I've ever been in my entire life. Experienced what I can only assume was the early stages of frost bite.

47. Lost some wonderful people.

48. Made some truly excellent friends.

49. Found out that actors who work at callcentres have a cracking sense of humour and a very high tolerance to booze.

50. Turned the cake blog into a vlog (one on it's way now!)

51. Seriously, am I only halfway through? Jesus, Mary and Joseph...

52. Technically didn't get rejected from any agencies. Technically didn't get into any agencies either, but that's neither here nor there. Note to self. Apply to more agencies.

53. Learnt how to bake some damn fine cakes.

54. Wrote some pretty cool kids' stories

55. Went to a Cold War Kids concert. Was pretty sure the lead singer was making eyes at me. The Lad insists that actually it was him the lead singer was making eyes at.

56. Went to my cousin's band's concert in Camden. Was shoved to the back of the venue by their MASSES OF FANS! Was very proud, they're called We are the Ocean and are very good in a cool sort of a way. If you like cool sort of things

57. Went to Winter Wonderland. Again. Got sprayed in the face on the crappest ghost train ever made.

58. Saw some films. Woman in Black. Harry Potter. Twilight. You know, the highbrow stuff.

59. Learnt how to make aubergine bake.

60. Ate a hell of a lot of aubergine bake.

61. Visited wig-maker friend in middle of countryside whilst she was briefly home from international tour of Batman Live. Ate an enormous pizza. Watched Home Alone two. It was awesome.

62. Went to lots of dinner parties.

63. William and Kate got married. I  went to the V&A museum and ate really bad wedding cake, then watched my friend and her fabulous mum take part in a royal fashion show

64. Met my baby cousin Mabel. Learnt how to stop her from crying. Was proud until I realised this meant carrying a baby around for hours and hours, jigging and humming.

65. Decided to put off having children for a fair while.

66. Panicked that I was pregnant.

67. Wasn't pregnant.

68. Briefly discovered religion again, then lost it.

69. Dressed as Uma in Pulp Fiction. With a wig.

70. Dressed as a zombie magician.

71. Dressed as a witch.

72. Met Santa whilst filming an advert. Found out he really likes Doctor Who. Sat on his lap for first time since was 7.

73. Went to Wales for first time! Discovered that rumours about it raining very heavily in rain are based on the truth.

74. Found a potato in a shoe that had baby potatoes growing from it. Was left over from a game me and Dad started where you hide potatoes in other peoples things. It began with me hiding a pile of them under his bed sheets with a note attached saying 'from the pratie fairy'. May start that game up again fairly soon, was very amusing.

75. Played a divorcee for an advert. Wondered if I wasn't perhaps just slightly young to be divorced.

76. Went to a Pokemon Tournament. Saw The Lad reach the top 32 in Europe. Refused to go again after someone threw a pokeball at my head in some weird come-on. I don't care if you 'choose me' I'm not getting in your van with you...

77. Saw my 7 year old cousin triumph as The Grandmother in Little Red Riding hood in Broxbourne. A star is born. Frankly, that Dakota Fanning had better watch her back, my little Daisy is much cuter.

78. Twisted my ankle whilst spinning a festive wheel of fortune. No, I don't know how it happened either.

79. Got offered a feature film. With explicit nudity. And no lines. Turned it down.

80. Was on Downton Abbey. For a fifth of a second.

81. I am running out of things to write given it's only been about a year I've been writing this....erm.....Got some jewellery. An antique locket and a Tatty Devine swallow pendant. The latter from The Lad, the former from myself.

82. Saw myself on screen in a cinema

83. Held a pig's eyeball for a film.

84. Held a tiny baby chick that fell asleep in my hand

85. Bottle fed an ENORMOUS KILLER LAMB that tried to escape the farm and take me with it

86. Despite all attempts to the contrary, got addicted to an awful lot of trash tv, including My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding, Made in Chelsea and TOWIE. I am ashamed.

87. Made my own recipe book.

88. Experimented, and got addicted to food glitter. Discovered that not everyone likes glittery beans on toast.

89. Went to a Labyrinth themed masked ball and screening dressed as David Bowie. Complete with stuffed crotch.

90. Got my first fillings. Had to have The Lad there to hold my hand.

91. Did a Swedish accent in an audition. Incredibly, didn't get the part. Hmmm, it did sound vaguely Indian actually...

92. Went to Eastbourne and drank my weight in Pimms.

93.  Saw my mum launch her own business and do brilliantly well (we never expected anything different)

94. Started trying to learn to juggle with three balls (that was today actually, thanks to my brilliant stage manager, who's patiently teaching me)

95. Considered moving to a very small town on the outskirts of California, just because my favourite video blogger lives there. Realised that would be sort of stalking. Still thought about it for a surprisingly long time.

96. Got in an epic food fight.

97. Was disparaging about Lana Del Rey. Then secretly added her to my ipod and now listen to her every day.

98. Was won a stuffed toy at a funfair for the first time EVER. His name is Gunther, he is a Christmas penguin in jesus sandals and he shares my bed while I'm away from The Lad.

99. Tried to stage a secret revolt against Skyrim with other Skyrim widows. Failed miserably when we all stopped talking to our boyfriends and they lost all sense of time and started starving. (n.b. this may be a slight exaggeration, but only slightly. At one stage, I asked The Lad when he'd last eaten and he thought about it and couldn't remember. Had to make him a BLT, stat. Given that he's a slender sort of a lad anyway, missing a meal could make him waste away!)

100. WROTE 100 MUTHA FUDGING BLOG ENTRIES BEEEATCH!

Look, I'm sure I've done more than 100 things in the past year. But I haven't planned this at all well. Also, some things I can't tell you about. Because of secrecy and certain signed documents!

But there will be a lot more. Next attempt-500 blog entries!
Bye for now chaps!
Ash
x

Aaaaaallllll by myyyyysseeeeellllllf........

Reader, yesterday was a comically tragic day. Because I'm going back home next weekend, I decided to brave it in Norwich and stay here, thinking 'Well, there'll be other cast members around so I can chill with them. Or the guys I'm staying with!'. Had completely forgotten that the guys I'm staying with were celebrating their fifth anniversary, so offered to get out of the house for the day, which they gratefully accepted. Unfortunately, all of the cast went back to London, so I had to spend the day in Norwich, alone.

Now, don't get me wrong Reader, I like my own company. I would rather go shopping alone than with people, and if I don't get time to myself, I go a bit stir crazy. So I assumed that a day in my own company would be delightful. Of course, the other thing I realised as I milled around was that it's the weekend before valentines and the couples were out in full force. And Norwich has surprisingly few things to do when you're on your own.

So here was my proposed itinerary:

10.30am-walk to town
11am-go to wedding show to try and find vintage style underwear for photoshoot
12pm-find a gym and have a work out sesh (had trainers etc in my rucksack)
1.30pm-have a leisurely lunch
2.30pm-wander around town, get valentines pressies for The Lad and find a new handbag (mine broke) and push up bra (my costume's a bit saggy in the boob department).
5pm-have a drink in one of the many pubs, whilst reading one of my books
6pm-go to see the muppets movie
8pm-have another drink at my local, read some more
9.30pm-wander back to the house to arrive back for 10pm, which would have given the couple plenty of time for a romantic day

This is what actually happened

10.30am-walk to town
10.50am-realise am in the wedding show too soon and this is why all the stallholders are glaring at me. Leave sheepishly and go get coffee in nearby cafe run by what appears to be a group of polish supermodels. Find out Muppets movie isn't on in Norwich. I can however go and watch the new Polanski film at 7.15, so decide that will do quite nicely.
11.05am-go back into wedding fair.
11.20am-leave wedding fair, having realised that there's not much to do if you're not getting married. No vintage style undies on offer anyway. Am offered a chance to win a free bridal makeover. Consider it, before trying to work out how I'd explain it to The Lad if I won.
11.25am-look for gym
12.00pm-give up looking for gym. There is no gym in Norwich town centre. Curse myself for bringing heavy trainer/sports bra combo in bag. Decide to wander round shops instead.
2pm-having got my bag and tried on every outfit Norwich has to offer (including a gorgeous dress which the amazing mother has offered to pay for as a gift for my approaching birthday-4th March if anyone wants to buy me pretty things) I am a bit bored, and have now realised am only person in Norwich on my own this weekend, am surrounding my loads of couples snogging the faces off each other.
2.05pm-Have lunch at lovely if slightly mad cafe, where I have to share a table with another person on his own. Cafe of couples looks at us sympathetically. Waiter tries unsuccessfully to set us up. Talk to The Lad, who proves to be useless at cheering me up over the phone, as he wants his lunch.
2.28pm-Go look around amazing baking shop. The Lad texts me, asking if I needed cheering up, apologises for being abrupt before and then whines for 3 texts about his sore leg and his attempt at french toast going wrong.
2.40pm-Lad realises that complaining is not helping, given that I have ignored his texts. Sends me very sweet text about how much he loves me. Reply, slightly grudgingly, muttering about Victor Meldrew. Go pick up his valentines presents, muttering about how he doesn't deserve them.
3.30pm-End up in pub. Not hungry but decide to eat chips, as is a belgian pub and would be rude not to really.
3.55pm-Pup is suddenly very full and standing customers are giving me severe evils for keeping a table, even though I'm just drinking a diet coke and not a colourful beer.
4pm-give in to pressure and sneak out. Fight breaks out between American tourists and locals about who gets the table.
4.10pm-find a slightly scummy old man's pub. Think 'Oh well, at least it's quiet' and settle down with my book and i-pod.
4.20pm-pub fills up with football fans, here to watch some match.
4.45pm-retreat to corner of pub to hide from large shoutey men spilling beer on me.
4.55pm-realise book is really quite boring. Call family for a chat. Family are planning a really nice dinner. Am highly jealous
5.30pm-try and sketch football fan without him seeing. Fail. Spend rest of time trying to avoid eye contact with him, as he clearly thinks I was checking him out. Wasn't, he just had an interesting nose that I wanted to draw.
6.30pm-decide it's the right sort of time to head to the cinema. I'll be very early, but I can sit in the bar and spend a while dithering over movie snacks.
6.35pm-both films are sold out. Curse the countryside. Enquire about other cinemas. Am reminded that there is a Vue on the other side of town, but staff haven't been there so can't offer advice on what it's like. Traipse across town
6.45pm-Vue is in a shopping centre which closes at 6.30. Entire building is locked up.
7pm-grab trashy mags and go to local pub. Is lovely and quiet till drunk football oiks turn up, yelling about blow jobs and cider.
8pm-work out how much I spent in pubs alone. Panic slightly.
8.05pm-eat packet of salt and vinegar squares to help with panic.
8.30pm-sympathetic hosts text me to say I'm more than welcome to come home if I want to. Am out that door faster than a speeding bullet.
8.40pm-chocolate and vodka with the couple I'm living with. Much relief to be home! They ask how I spent my day. I realise the only constructive thing I did was go shopping. Laugh, somewhat hysterically.

So not quite the day I was hoping for. But today I get to cook a lovely sunday lunch for my hosts, and then go for drinks with a few of my cast. Hurrah!

Plus, I got some pretty nice pressies for The Lad, which he'll get when we have our belated valentines evening next friday. Hurrah!
Hope you all had a lovely Saturday!
Ash
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Ash and Gunther against the world!

Reader, I have moved to Norwich for the month for my rehearsals. I am currently living out a few dreams of mine,

a) Being a full time actress and getting paid for it (obviously, did I even really need to put that down?)

b) Living with one of my oldest friends (something we said we'd do when we were about 11 but never got round to what with boyfriends and careers and things)

c) Living in the countryside again (I'm going to skip through some fields, y'know, when the snow goes away)

d) Doing a friggin' DICKENS story!?!

Yep, it is a good time. Of course, there are also a few negatives

a) I am away from The Lad. It is the first night and already I miss having someone to put my cold cold feet against

b) My friend (and host) and her boyfriend are brilliant cooks. And are determined to feed me up. I have to stay the same size so I'll fit in my costume. These things do not go hand in hand. In fact, they don't even nod at each other as they pass on the street. They live at the opposite ends of opposite town, one in a very nice neighbourhood with big terraced houses, and the other in the artists quarter, with posters stuck up with blue tack on the walls. I cannot, repeat, CANNOT be a rotund Estella. This would not be ideal, and everyone would be confused as to why Estella was squashing Pip. (Answer, because it is Miss. Havisham's revenge on men)

c) I am living in the countryside again. Last time I did this it caused me to take up smoking, get a tattoo and become a raging drunkard. The countryside has that sort of effect on me.

Me and my stuffed penguin Gunther are having a lovely time, despite the negatives as described as above. We were made curry and given chocolates (see point B), watched some seriously trashy tv (which made us feel smug about how much better our lives were than the teens we were laughing at) and then some 30 Rock (which made us hopeful that one day we would be as wonderful as Tina Fey who we love), talked about ancient Grecian-Egyptian relationships (in other words, old fashioned bonking) and I unpacked all my stuff to discover that I haven't forgotten any chargers (surely a first for me?) and have even remembered to bring both night cream and deodorant (I am so organised right now that I'm practically the Prime Minister of Iceland's PA-high hopes Ash). Now, we're in bed, reading some Manga (so old school) and mentally preparing for meeting a whole room of new people. Am willing myself not to say anything offensive/mind numbingly stupid/pompous out of nervousness but it's highly likely that I will do all three. Eep. I will have to make cakes at some point to appease everyone, just in case.

Anyway Reader, sleep calls, it's been a long day of trudging through snow and being on coaches and trains!
Ash
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I'm the one sitting facing the wall with my arms crossed...

Reader, I am sulking. Why am I sulking? Because I don't want to go to work tomorrow, that's why. No, it's not the first day back since the Christmas holls. That was last Thursday. No, I'm not going back to something hellishly difficult. I'm actually going to be working on a rather nice account, which is selling organic, free range, happy fruit and veg to jolly nice middle class people. And my work colleagues for this account are a rather nice jokey lot, who are rather lovely to chat to.

But the thought of being on the phones for 8.5 hours and staring at a computer screen all day (yes I realise that's what I'm doing now) is rather dreadful. The thing with being an actor is, in order to do the thing you love most, you usually have to spend 85% of your working life doing something that is not what you want to do. Unless you have wealthy, very generous parents. Some may say that actually, that's a bit of a fib, because you could be a teacher or work in a theatre related business or something, but essentially, you need to be able to drop your jobbing job like a hot chicken nugget if an acting job or even just an audition comes along. And if you work in a proper job, you'd be letting people down if you did that. I even get massive guilt over cancelling babysitting if I get an acting job! The handy thing about the company I work for is that it was essentially designed for actors. So they tend to actually be happy for you if you call in and cancel at short notice because you have an audition or a job. Which is wonderful. Although, they don't pay holiday wages, so if you DO have to take a day off, you'll really miss the pay.

The downside is that working in a call centre is tedious, repetitive work. It;s a great company, I like what I'm selling, I think my workmates are brilliant in a number of magical ways, but my god, the work itself makes me want to bash my brains out with my headset. Because on the whole, every conversation you have is the same. Yes, occasionally you get really great ones, where the person on the other end of the phone is hysterically funny and also makes a stonking big order from you then thanks you for calling them, but the rest of the time it's 'oh hi is mrs. wassername there? Oh ok, I'll try later' or 'You're not interested? Oh, ok then, no worries'. Working on a new account alleviates the dullness a little (as does finding out that there's someone vaguely famous working on the floor) but this is why actors have to do the job. Because we have something else to give our lives a bit of excitement and can go 'ah well, at least this isn't the career!' If we're still in a call centre at 50 plus, we may not be quite so cheery.

For the moment, I just need to get through the next three weeks or so. Because after that, I have a month off from the call centre, rehearsing for the theatre tour. Which will be incredible. But also scary, because it will be my first tour, the longest I'll have ever have done a play.

In other news, since Christmas 3 of my friends have got engaged. Is this year some kind of special astrology based boom year or something? It's all very nice and very romantic, but I think The Lad thinks I'm dropping hints, because every time I turn on my computer I go 'Oh, so and so's engaged' and then talking about their weddings for ages. He's been walking round with a slight scared expression ever since. To offset his fear, whenever anyone goes 'It'll be you next' I get very childish and go 'AS IF! BOYS?! BOYS ARE SMELLY!' So he doesn't think that I'm some crazy bridezilla who's despo to drag him up the aisle. Instead he now thinks I am a crazy man hater who never wants to marry. I am in fact, neither of those extremes. I am a normal person who's got lots of friends who are getting married. Oh god, I just realised how many wedding outfits I have to get this year.Wedding outfits are hellish. Because there are so many rules. You can't wear white, because that's tacky and rude at someone else's wedding and implies you wish you were the bride. You can't wear off the shoulder, above the knee or busty outfits, because people will assume you're fishing for your own hubby. You can't look too good or people will think you're trying to upstage the bride. You can't wear too much black or people will think you're terribly sad about the wedding. You can't wear massive heels or people will think it's a footballer's wedding. This list cancels out most of my wardrobe. I may just go in my yellow flowery duvet, with arm holes ripped in it. Sorted!

Right Reader, off to learn some lines
Ash
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Delusion, Day Nurse tablets and bounty bars...

Hello Reader!

Sorry for the radio silence this week, I forgot to put up links to my last blog entry on the usual sites (which is probably a good thing, since I then went back and added to it, so even if you've read it, go back, it's better than the bare bones it was before!) and then on my second day Oop North I came down with the most rotten, snotty, rank cold ever. In fact, today has been the first day since Monday that I've been able to do anything useful with myself! Which mainly involved going to work to get trained for a new account, selling posh veggies to posh people. Which is actually rather nice, because the company is all organic and free range, and really something I can believe in and be a bit passionate about. And they taught me loads of things. For example, did you know, if something's certified as being organic, it is also fairtrade and free range? I didn't till today! Not all organic things have the fairtrade logo because you have to pay for that, and apparently it's pretty pricey for the farmers. Also, pigs are one of the only animals not to have any laws attached to them for being free range. Which means people can shove them in nasty cages, they may never see daylight and live awful cramped lives, yet horrible marketers can still shove a smiley 'free range' happy pig sticker on the meat and it's not illegal! So always go for organic pork, because that DOES have very strict standards.

But I'm getting carried away! Oop North was lovely, even though I got sick. We got to hang out with The Lad's family, met his sister's new chihuahua Bruno (otherwise known as Brunolicious or Bruno-so-fabulous) who has an array of tiny coats and kept trying to make sweet sweet love to The Lad's leg. We had gorgeous dinners cooked for us, had traditional northern breakfast and went to a pub that did local beer. We even managed to go to the nearest big town and have a look at the sales (although I'm afraid by that stage I was a bit pathetic and had to keep sitting down because I was getting very weak and feverish). And then I left The Lad there for the rest of the week. Reader, it has not been fun being ill AND apart from The Lad. And The Lad being a boy, is crap at replying to texts. He'll text me once, I'll reply, he'll text again, I'll reply asking a question, and then it's like the moors swallowed him up. And being a paranoid nellie, I do assume he has had some terrible accident (probably involving a mining shaft, what with him being northern and all) and it's just that no one has thought to let me know in all the commotion. Of course, if that did happen, I'd have to make the decision whether I wanted to be in a relationship with someone who is both 5 hours away and stuck down a hole indefinitely. However, he is coming home tomorrow Reader, and I'm very very excited indeed. Mainly because I'll be able to sleep with the light off again (look, my room get's really bloody scary when there's not a slightly braver person to prod awake when I hear noises). Of course, after a few hours of him insisting on tickling me too hard and playing skyrim instead of paying me attention, I'll probably be trying to post him back through the postbox covered in second class stamps. But for the first 1.24 hours, it will be brilliant. 


Another exciting thing I did recently Reader, was go to the lovely Kate's birthday celebration. Which involved eating loads of brilliant food, dressing up in crazy costumes, and going to a Labyrinth themed masked ball and screening. Kate was resplendent in a Gothic version of Sarah's ballgown from the dream sequence, the baby of the group, Ro was manhandled into dressing as Toby (which was, by the way, the most popular costume by far), Sara was given an entirely eighties salmon dress to play the stepmother, the gorgeous Shush was dressed in the traditional Sarah outfit and I was, of course, the Goblin King. Complete with heavily stuffed crotch. It was slightly hindered by the fact that only Kate and myself had seen the film before, and the rest of the girls had to trust us dressing them up (they were suspicious till they'd seen the film!). After which we retired to Kate's and watched the Kate Middleton and Prince William movie (seriously dreadful but utterly hilarious, worth a watch!) and eventually fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning. It was, in short, fabulous.

Right Reader, it's late, I'm not entirely recovered from my bug yet and I have a small ginger cat yelling at my door, so it's time for me to off.
Tarrah!
Ash
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New years new....

Hello Reader! I'm currently writing this on my smartphone which means a) technology is taking over the world b) I am on a train and c) this may take a while. I'm off to spend New Year's Eve with The Lad's family ooop north, where there shall be much eating and drinking (Hurrah!). Now, it's customary around this time of year to make a few resolutions. I'm not really a big fan of that, as I tend to find that if I make them at New year I tend not to keep them, but if i did, this is what they'd be.


Ash's new Year resolutions (at least they would be if she made any ever)


1) keep below 9 stone. This one is mainly to do with acting stuff, not in an 'I need to be skinny to get parts' way but in an 'oh god I sent off measurements for my costume when I was at my skinniest and will defo be bursting out if i keep eating chips so often' sort of way. Also, at one point in the play I'm doing, I play someone who's like, fourteen. Fourteen year olds are not so much with the boobiness. Well. At least I wasn't when I was fourteen. I had friends who were, but I was flat as a pancake till I went off to uni and something in the water made them grow like a marvel comic.

2) get good reviews for my theatre tour. You know, cause that'd be rather nice. And I could put them in my scrapbook next to my other (one) review and tell my grandchildren what a glam young actress I was. I will, obviously, be glossing over the less glamorous times. Grandchildren do not need to hear about working at a call centre.

3) move into own place with The Lad (well, one can dream!) Somewhere with a smeg fridge and an exposed redbrick wall and maybe even a balcony. *sigh*

4) go on holiday somewhere hot. Because I haven't for YEARS. Don't care where so long as it's not chav tastic and has a pool. And a beach with sand. And alcohol. This would be a great present if any of my wealthy friends win the lottery...

5) read war and peace. I think this has been on my to do list for the past three years or so...

6) spend time with friends and family. This one may be difficult what with the tour and all, but I'll regret it if i don't, and let's face it, they're all FABULOUS so effort must be made.

7) get even more acting work. Maybe something with the BBC. Or directed by Mike leigh. Or another theatre tour! Tell you what, someone just give my number to the Hollywood organiser. That person exists right? You know, the person who goes, 'ah yes, let's make this person a verrrry popular actor in England for 2 years, then let them break into America, do some fabby Canadian work, then only have to do two films/plays a year for the rest of their life.' If that person IS reading this, I would love to play Hedda Gabler. Or if they're making a film based on Bluebeard, the female lead in that is awesome. Or...you know what? Just keep me in acting work and I'll be happy.

8) do some charity work. For the soul. Which is probably a bit tarnished from all my consumerism, buying Primark clothes, and not being vegan, and given that me and my friends were talking about the end of the world the other day, I reckon I need to give it a bit of a polish. Also, it's nice.

9) do something completely new. Even if it's just learning to make pasta with my exciting new pasta maker. Or dying my hair a new colour. Would be better if was something exciting though, like cuddling a baby tiger or playing ice hockey.

10) wear more exciting clothes. Because I can be really bloody boring sometimes with my choices, and when people buy me mad but gorgeous clothes I wear them to death and remember how much I adore looking a bit eccentric! The mother got me the most incredible little fifties style mini-dress with Sailor Jerry girls all over it and I keep wanting to wear it every day.

11) keep this blog up. Because at the end of January, I'll have been writing it for a whole year, and it would be a shame to stop now!

And that's about all I can think of! It used to be 'give up smoking' but I did that.  Yay. It's been quite a good year though Reader, I finished drama school, lived with a boyfriend for the first time, visited Ireland for the first time in ages, went to a health spa, did some interesting films, worked in a job for the longest I've ever managed (6 months so far!), got parts in radio and internet adverts, got the part of a lifetime to do a theatre tour next year, turned 23, saw my little brother off to uni, honed my baking skills, learnt to make steak despite being a veggie and have even managed to end the year with a little money saved up! I'm quite proud. I hope you've had a lovely year too Reader, and I hope that next year is even better.
Keep reading!
Ash
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In which The Lad gets older....

It's a special day today Reader, because The Lad is turning 23. Finally he will be the same age as me (so I won't feel like quite such a cradle snatcher). This may mean that he comes home wearing a suit, talking about his shares in the plastic industry and worrying about a pension and varicose veins, but that's quite unlikely. What's more likely is that he'll come home, get very excited about the prospect of the novelty cake I've made (the theme of which I'm keeping a secret till he sees it, but will post a pic later), glue himself to his Xbox (Skyrim arrived today-there goes my relationship...) and talk about pokemon. He may at some point try to tickle me till I wee a little bit (let's hope not, I hate being tickled) and will go to bed fully clothed like he did the other night (tirednenss? Coldness? I have no idea.).

Tomorrow night we're going to a rather groovy place called The Breakfast club and having lots of cocktails. I'll buy us something cheese covered to eat (or rather, I'll buy HIM something cheese covered. I may have something like that if my weigh in goes to plan, but if not, I'll just stick to the booze). A group of our lovely friends will be coming and hopefully a fabulous night will be had by all. And then the next day, we're playing board games (am slightly concerned he may force us to play the Pokemon game my parents got him, but am hopeful I can distract him with the prospect of snacks). He's quite spoilt really, but given that the poor sod is working 6 day weeks till Christmas, I reckon he quite deserves a bit of spoiling.

You may have noticed I mentioned a weigh in...that's right, I'm trying to lose a couple of cakes worth of lbs. Not so much because I'm lardy at the moment, more because I'm very aware Christmas is coming up, and I'm planning to eat pretty much the whole contents of Marks and Spencers. Particularly their chocolate covered cherries. Christmas has always been about family, cosiness and eating frankly shocking amounts for me, and this year will be no different. In fact, I bet there'll be some competition between me and The Lad on who can eat the most, given that this year will be the first we'll be spending together (am I excited? Yes. Am I a little bit sad that this means I'll have to share my quality street? Yes.). Last year, I got so carried away by mince pies, I had a tiny bit of a melt down the week before christmas when I realised I couldn't fit my arse in a coveted christmas outfit, so this year, I've promised myself that I'll only truly pig out the week of Crimbo. Which means aerobics classes till then, and portions my great grandmother would have spat at. Fun.

So what else is happening? I got made a team leader at work (yay!) which basically means that they trust me to keep people entertained and buy lots of glitter covered signs for our pod (we already have paper chains, a paper snow mountain range and a glittery christmas sign and that's only the beginning. Someone asked me if I wanted to be a kids tv presenter the other day because of all my d.i.y decs!). It's a bit exhausting, means that I have a whole lot less free time now as I spend my mornings buying prizes for competitions and have to come in early for meetings, and I stay late at work making sure everything is properly put away. I feel a bit like a hyperactive mother from the fifties, passing round biscuits and making sure everyone has a nice time. I'm hardly rock and roll sadly, but ah well!

Right loves, I'm off to put on a wash, since most of my clothes are now covered in flour,
Bye!
Ash
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All women are not sperm thieves...(now there's a title I never thought I'd write...)

Reader, you cannot have missed the huge outcry that's come from columnist Liz Jones writing about the time she stole her boyfriend's sperm to attempt to impregnate herself. As a very smart friend said the other night, she's a journalist, she's written it for the sensationalism that it would create, the notoriety it would paint her with and the column inches she would gain. Fair enough. But for the point of this entry, I'm going to ignore that element of it, because I find the whole concept of a woman being THAT desperate fascinating in an 'Oh God, I can't believe....oh gross....oh that's really not a great idea' sort of a way. If you haven't read the article, you can find it here.

The whole article is a series of oxymoron based phrases and ideals. The writer claims to be a feminist (the same woman who got a breast reduction because she wanted to look more like a model) and says that she looked down on mumsy types. Now, first and foremost, I might be wrong, but surely feminism is about support for each other? About women having the right to choose what they want out of life just as much as men do? And if a woman chooses to be a stay at home wife and mother, what's wrong with that? It's still a choice.

Next, she talks about having a boyfriend who was so suspicious of her that when they first started dating, he wouldn't have sex with her. All I can think about this is CLEVER MAN. Fair enough that he wouldn't shag her when she was constantly whittering about her dwindling egg supply, or agree to have a child when they clearly didn't work as a couple. But also, she had told the poor sod she didn't want a family with him! How could he even consider the idea properly when she'd vehemently denied wanting kids with him!

And then (and this is the gross bit) after they'd done the horizontal tango, she'd sneak off to the loo with his used condom and do things that I can't even think of without gagging a little. And then she has the audacity to say 'I don’t understand why more men aren’t wise to this risk — maybe sex addles their brain'

yep, that's right guys, all of us girls are just despo to steal your baby-making materials make a child against your will. So guard those disposed condoms like precious gold, gold I tells ye! I just had a thought of a man laying in bed going 'B'jeebus! I was so knocked out by all that hardcore sexing that I forgot to put my sperm in the little safe I carry around with me! NOoooooo!' and his girlfriend scurrying into the loo like the imps from 'Willow' going 'I stole a baby! I stole a baby!'. I mean seriously. Also, how patronising to think that men are slaves to their willies that much. I know sex rules our lives as human beans, but I'm pretty sure my male friends and peers wouldn't be able to do their jobs if all they were thinking about was getting it on every second of every day. Although, admittedly, part of me does find the idea that you'd be able to spot who'd got some recently by how dizzy they looked hilarious.

The thing is, I know I'm only 23, but do women really get to the point where they're so eager to have their bellies practically torn open that they'll quite happily degrade themselves that much? I know I have time on my side, but I genuinely can't imagine that I would turn into such a rabid nightmare if a partner didn't want kids with me. If I wanted them that much, that being in an unhappy relationship and stealing his sperm seemed like a good plan, I'd slap myself, end the relationship and go to a sperm bank. Or Adopt. Or foster. 

Saying that, as I said, I'm young. I haven't been through the trials of not being able to concieve, I haven't reached that stage where my body rebels against me and cries out for pregnancy and nor have I been in a relationship with a complete commitment phobe. Maybe when I'm 38 and The Lad wants to jaunt off and follow his dreams of becoming an international pokemon hunter instead of settling down and having a couple of really chubby babies, I'll go a bit mental. But I pray that I would never become the sort of person to trap someone into staying in a relationship. And if I did, I'm not sure I'd be brave enough to write about it. Because despite my horror at the story, and the way she's depicted women in their 30s and 40s (tarred with the same brush much?!) I do quite admire Liz Jones. She makes no attempt to make herself come out as the hero or indeed the victim in her columns. She is unashamed about her past, she just offers it up, and let's face it, she's a talented writer, they make for entertaining reading. I almost have to think 'well, good for her, that's a very ugly side of herself she's exposed' which few women (or indeed men, because I'm sure there MUST be men so broody they'd do something silly) would let anyone know about.

Ash

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